Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 20 - A Day in the Life of a Shapechanger

Akhan squeezed his eyes tightly shut and formed the image of a black cat in his mind. As the potion transformed him into feline form he swished his new tail experimentally and then retreated into the shadows. With the light becoming brighter with as person approached, he had to fight the compulsion to spit and snarl with agitation.
His back now beginning to arch, Akhan decided to skirt round the edge of the room in the shadows to just behind where the door would open if this person did enter.
The cat hung back tensely, waiting for the door to open.
"Don't want to get squished if this door is flung back," it thought to itself.
"Now if it's just the one person then I've got two options. If I reckon I can change in time, I can swap back to my own form, quick knock to the head and steal whatever keys he's got then away we go. Or, I can just make a run for it through the open door as he enters. But if it's more than one person then I'm definitely going to try and hide in these shadows till they go."
The cat's attention was briefly drawn to the manacled figure again.
"Be nice to try and save this chap if I get the chance though. Any enemy of my enemy and all that. If this guard doesn't come in we'll see what we can do. Get him out of those manacles for a start."
Tensing with anticipation again the cat returned its gaze to the door.
"Come to Felix little mouse..."

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Eloi turned round and whispered, "I will take the lead, my abilities will be to our advantage. I will scout a little ahead and if I come across anything to our advantage or disadvantage then I can report quickly. I want a good fighter behind me. Let's hurry and be as silent as possible."
Eloi turned and started of down the staircase beckoning for the others to follow.
Jean-Paul drew his sword.
"Does anyone have a subtle light? We do not all have Eloi's abilities, but again it is vital that whatever light we use to find our way does not give our position away."
With a smile, Hamman drew his broadsword, and it immediately illuminated with a soft yellow colour, shedding light about fifteen feet. He stepped in front of Jean-Paul in order to allow Eloi some light to work with,
Cautiously they headed down the spiral stairs - after only ten feet, Eloi saw the way ahead was blocked by a dead-end, and he had seen nothing suspicious so far.
"There's a secret door ahead, the trigger's to the right at waist level," Hamman said.
Eloi turned slowly and glared at Hamman with questioning eyes. Returning to the door, he soon found the trigger, and the door opened into a dimly-lit room that seemed, from the single bed, to be a bedroom.
It was sparsely decorated, albeit modestly rich, as though the person who resided there did not live there often. Two books sat on a bedside table, one open, and the room was lit by a candle there. The air was sweet with the smell of incense, and a few accoutrements about the place suggested a magician stayed there. There was one door from the room, to the right, and one small shuttered slit window.
The door was closed, and the bed-sheets pulled open as though someone had left in a hurry.
"I'll watch the door with Tumbry," Aranon said. "You guys search the room - quickly!"
Eloi went over to the closed door and examined it carefully looking for any traps and establishing the nature of the locking mechanism.
"I guess that we have been rumbled, we must be extra vigilant from now on. Lominstrall, must
know we are here now. Mordekei, your opinion would be helpful here, are there any magical traps barring this door?"
Eloi stood back allowing the Mage to look at the door unhindered.
Jean-Paul explored the room carefully
The door appeared an unremarkable type, with an ordinary handle and lock.
The key was still inside the room, in the lock. Leaving Mordekei to the door, Eloi had a quick look around the room. It was quite barren, giving him the feeling that the person who stayed here had not been there long, and did not intend staying.
Apart from the dishevelled bed, there was the bedside cabinet and a small chest of drawers. The books were in some language that Eloi could not read.
He gave the furniture a quick glance over, but could not see anything out of the ordinary. Except, that was, for the small chest resting under the bed. He failed to mention that to the party, chancing that he could return later to relieve it of its contents for himself.
Eloi looked over to Mordekei, who was staring at the door.
"Find anything, Mord?" he asked.
Before the mage could answer, Hamman interrupted.
"If we've been discovered, Eloi, do you think this is the time to be looking for treasure?"

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The black cat listened intently as the footsteps came closer, and he could now hear a person's laboured breathing, as though panicked. The footsteps moved away from the cell door, then stopped nearby.
There was a loud banging on a door.
"Come on, come on, hurry up you oaf!" a voice muttered to itself. The cat thought that the voice had an Olven lilt to it.
The banging started again, and this time the person raised his voice.
"Heteraal, Heteraal - open up - there are intruders!"
After a second there was the turning of a lock in a door, and the door opened.
A sleepy voice answered the person at the door.
"Intruders m'Lord? What has happened?"
The voice, a gruff male voice, had the complacency of a man who had been through the same ritual too many times.
"On the roof - noises, not the usual ones!"
The complacent voice tried to calm him.
"It is most likely just the beasts, m'Lord. You know how they..."
"No!" the panicking man insisted. "I used my wand, Heteraal - there are enemies on the roof. The Redemptionists may be coming for my life!"
Immediately there was a scuffling noise, as if someone were moving quickly. The two men walked into a room and the cat could hear movement within. he could only hear the bass tones of the second man now.
"Go downstairs, m'Lord. Warn the others and awake the garrison, and prepare yourselves for battle. I will go upstairs and investigate, and delay them if I must."
The cat heard a sword being unsheathed, and the ring of steel on stone, as though a sword were being tested. There were more sounds of movement within, and the cat heard footsteps coming towards the door.
The cat stood in the shadows of the cell and attempted to grin with satisfaction. Unfortunately it seemed rather unused to the facial movements required and let out a hastily muffled hiss as it bit it's tongue with a sharp incisor tooth.
"Bastard!" it thought. "Never mind. This is definitely someone we want to talk to even if it isn't old Lominstrall which I suspect it just might be. Anything to do with Redemption's just up our alley. But we don't want the bugger letting the rest of the garrison know though do we?"
Casting a regretful look at the manacled figure the cat resolved to return as quickly as he could and let the poor soul down from the wall.
"First things first. He's not going to survive long if we all end up on that wall beside him."
Quickly observing the nature of the grated Judas gate the cat thought, "If I open this little gap then I can morph into the songbird again and fly through and after that jittery character."
The footsteps went past the door, and Akhan looked at the grill. He soon realised that there was little he could do to open it, save to utilise his Eye once more. With a screwed-up moggy face, he slid the bolt back with ease, and the grating fell on its hinge with a clatter.
Having dealt with the grating Akhan closed his eyes and concentrated on the small songbird, shrugging off the momentary urge to pounce which the image roused in him
"Now let's see if we can't catch up. Don't want those guards losing any ugly-sleep and I'm sure I'll be able to persuade this wand-bloke to stop."
With a pounce, the cat leapt into the air, and, in mid-flight, changed back into the shape of the songbird, fluttering over and landing on the opening of the Judas gate to look around.
He was in a landing or hallway of some sort. To his right there was a door, partly open, from within which he could hear a grunting and shuffling noise, with the clinking of metal. The room was dimly lit, possibly by lantern.
To the left of the door was a spiral stone staircase, in the centre of the tower, with stairs leading up and down. Directly opposite the cell door was another door, without a Judas gate.
The little bird felt its heart beating ten to the dozen as it considered what to do.
"Let's get after that chap then," it thought, launching itself into the air to glide onto the stairs leading down to the lower levels of the Keep. As it neared the steps it made as if to alight but at the last second wished itself back into the form of the cat.
Finding its footing on the spiralling staircase it swept down the steps in swift pursuit of the figure who the cat hoped was indeed the King's Chancellor. As it felt itself to be nearing the next floor of the Keep it suddenly had a mischievous thought.
"Don't want to fall flat on my face when this potion wears off do I? So a human form might be more appropriate..."
Trying not to break stride the cat thought back to his days at Axewood Palace, chuckled briefly and wished himself into the form of Lominstrall.
"This ought to be good," the fake Lominstrall thought doing his best not to cackle and hurried on.
Akhan looked his new form up and down. As he did so, he cursed silently - he had only ever seen Lominstrall in the clothes he wore to the ball, so unless he were a permanently snappy dresser, would stand out somewhat.
He peered round the corner where the spiral stairs ended - he thought they had been much higher, and he had only come down one floor, so Akhan was puzzled as he was sure they had not reached the ground. The landing there appeared to be used as some sort of sitting room, with a large card table and chairs there, adorned with a few wine bottles and goblets.
Creeping closer to the landing, he peered into it. Directly ahead of the central staircase was the curved outer wall, and on the walls to the left and right, near to the outer wall, was a door.
Peeking out even further, Lominstrall's double shrunk back almost instantly - immediately to the left there was a door on the wall behind the stair well. That door had been open and there was a light within. It was when he turned to the right, to see the mirror-image door that he almost defecated in his pantaloons - there was Lominstrall, standing at the door, in his night-shirt with a pocketed robe thrown over himself.
Akhan listened as he heard the door open.
"Yethh," a familiar voice answered. He did not identify it, but for some reason the hackles went up on the back of his neck.
"Intruders," Lominstrall said. "Gather your belongings for a fight and meet me in the main hall."
"What do you mean, intruderth?" the voice asked rhetorically. "You told uth that we were thafe here, you, you..."
Akhan's eyes widened as he recognised the voices, from a conversation he overheard in a copse off a battlefield a long, long time ago...
"Elgarchin!" the voice snapped.
"Drow bastards!" Akhan thought indignantly. "Those Drow bastards and that treacherous weasel.."
"Listen!" Lominstrall said aggressively." We don't know who they are - and with your antics in the capital they may have followed you. Just get ready and meet me downstairs."
Lominstrall started to walk away and Akhan caught a glimpse of his back as he stood at the door to the right, opening it.

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Mordekei nodded at the book - "Pass that here a second, let me have a quick look"
Eloi smiled at Hamman, saying, "Of course you are right Hamman. Let's leave the pilfering till afterwards."
He turned to Mordekei and sarcastically replied, "Which book Mordekei? You may not have noticed, but there are rather a lot of them. Anyway, how is reading a book going to help us open the fecking door?! Is it trapped or not?!"
Eloi grew impatient and walked over to the door, drew his dagger, and started to unlock and open it Jean-Paul groaned at Eloi's actions and raised his sword readying himself for whatever faced them through the door.
As Mordekei wandered over to the book Eloi turned the key and opened the door into what looked like a library.
Stepping into the room, he saw that there were shelves full of books all around the four walls of this room. It was dimly lit by a candle on a table in the far corner.
"Ah feck!" Eloi cried, pulling his dagger up to his shoulder in an attack stance.
Jean-Paul, then Aranon, rushed into the room, followed by Tumbry and Sholin.
Over in the right hand corner, by a door they saw it! A lumbering mass of flesh and muscle, crudely sewn into a massive human form.
A golem!
"Aw feck indeed!" swore Aranon, as he started circling round the flesh golem looking for an opening to attack with his staff.
Eloi thought to himself, "My fecking dagger will be no good against this beastie!"
He replaced his dagger with his flail, feeling its weight sit pleasantly in his hand. He approached the golem in his standard, albeit somewhat absurd, fighting stance, ready to do battle.
Eloi called to the others, "Someone get Mordekei away from those fecking books, he can be of help here!"
Jean-Paul was somewhat shocked at the appearance of this abomination. With sword drawn he joined Eloi in his attack of the creature.
Hearing his companion's oaths, Mordekei prised his attention away from the books and rushed into the library. Beholding the golem, he took a step back before catching himself and drawing his dagger.
"My remaining spells will take all of us to damnation in such a confined space, blast those gargoyles! Our only hope is a fight - use magical weapons, for I fear they can be harmed by no other."
Aware of his terrible vulnerability, Mordekei hung at the back of the party, looking for any opening to use a spell.
Eloi ran at the beast, his flail swirling in an arc, catching the beast on its right leg. Quickly, Jean-Paul rushed to his friend's aid, but somehow the golem dodged his hefty strike, and then also managed to avoid Aranon's blow. Tumbry cut deep into its left arm with his sword, but the monk Sholin also missed with his spear.
Eloi ducked the monster's lumbering retaliatory blow, but Tumbry was caught with a mighty punch to his face. Hamman ran into the room and over to the ensuing melee.
The monster rained down a further two blows on the bard, who evaded the first, and almost avoided the second, taking a glancing blow to the shoulder.
Eloi, Aranon and Sholin, able to see past the creature, saw a man enter the room by the door - a warrior in dark chain with a small shield in one arm and a Falchion in the other. He seemed calm, as if expecting the combat he found there, and after a quick scan of the room, started slowly over to join the fight.
Eloi missed with his next swing, but Jean-Paul made sure his next strike landed true, as did Aranon's. Tumbry had withdrawn, staggering back under the ferocity of the creature's blows, and Hamman stepped into the space he left, stabbing the beast with his broadsword. This time, Sholin's spear found its mark and also stabbed the wretched creature, who by now seemed
badly injured from the attacks.
As the approached the party, Mordekei also saw him. He noticed the terrible deformity on the left side of the man's face, a festering reddened mass of diseased flesh which was painful even to look at. As he approached the fight the man took up a fighting stance and headed towards Eloi.
"Look out - there's someone or thing over there!" Mordekei yelled to warn them.
Eloi sighed as he say the figure approach him.
"Bollocks, as if this beastie wasn't enough! You want some too then?" he asked the man.
He shouted to the others, "Someone might want to give me a hand here!"
Eloi then disengaged from the Golem and made towards the approaching warrior flail swinging
impressively.
"No!" the man shouted as Eloi cried for help.
He circled around Eloi, moving away from the fight with the golem.
"Just you and me," the diseased man said forcefully.
"I am dying, and wish to die in battle, not with this rot! Fight me as a man, one to one, not as an animal!"
Eloi smiled at the mans plea
"Okay, you seemed resigned to dying so, I'll oblige."
He approached and engaged the man in combat.
"Stay back and kill that Golem, I'll deal with him," he called to the others.
A rotten grin came over the face of the diseased man.

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Akhan felt his blood beginning to boil with the righteous indignation of someone with a really big grudge to nurse.
Fighting off the urge to go and get stuck into the Drow straight away, he tried to get his wits back to the job in hand.
"Can't take them all on. But let's see if I can get Lominstrall out of the way for just now."
Getting the hang of the shape-shifting nature of the polymorph potion, Akhan almost absent-mindedly readjusted his appearance to exactly match that of the real Lominstrall.
"Got to be careful here. Don't want to get cornered."
Akhan steeled himself for action and got ready to move from his place of concealment. "Through the traitor's door and close it quickly and quietly behind me. Then hopefully the element of surprise will allow me to knock him unconscious or at least tie him up and gag him before anyone comes to his aid. Oh yeah, I knew those manacles'd come in useful.."
His throat feeling ever so dry the fake Lominstrall started off, trying to put thoughts of alternative, and safer, courses of action out of his mind. He was about to curse himself as a chicken before stopping himself just in time.
"Be a bit hard to peck him into submission."
Akhan's form changed, and he moved from the stairwell into the sitting room, and over towards the door with as much speed as his desire to be silent would permit.
"Lominstrall!" an unfamiliar voice hissed behind him.
It took all of Akhan's nerve and wits to stop casually and turn round. And he was sure he must have shown his surprise when he saw the man who hailed him.
With the same fair Suel features and drab clothing, there, in the doorway to the left of the stairwell, stood the other companion of Shabass T'Lan from the Wolf and Halberd!
He walked over to Akhan/Lominstrall, drawing a shortsword.
"They may be downstairs already, let me check first," he said, walking past Akhan and over to the door which the real Lominstrall had taken.
He opened it and started down the winding staircase behind it which appeared to follow
the outside wall downstairs.
Glancing over, Akhan saw dark shapes moving in the room to the other side of the stairwell, where he had heard the Drow. There was the soft clink of metal as though fine mail and weapons were being moved cautiously but quickly.
"Err, now what Dr. Polymorph Genius?" the counterfeit Chamberlain thought furiously to himself. "This is going to turn into a game of hide and seek if I'm not careful. Ahhh, the hell with it."
A large circus marquee shimmered in his mind's eye as he cast his mind back to a particularly boisterous carnival a few years ago when he had gone to gawk at some of the more dangerous animals the Oerth had to offer. Smilingly happily now, the form of the elf shifted again, assuming the shape of a rather larger black pussycat this time.
"Now let's see who's down these stairs as well as T'Lan's mate and Lominstrall," the fearsome-looking puma mused.
As it loped down the steps it wondered to itself about the advisability of wandering around by itself in a Keep full of its enemies, but couldn't think of any good reason at all; other than the prospect of biting one or two of them with these excellent fangs of course.
"Let's hope there's only those two down here. That way I might still be able to come up with a ruse for opening the doors for the rest of the gang without waking up the whole garrison."
The puma padded on hurriedly hoping to catch up with the Suel before he reached the ground floor.
The stairs led Akhan down the outer wall of the keep for about 20' to where they joined another set of stairs coming in from the centre of the tower.
He had come down about one storey, and heard voices below. Raising his front paws onto the balcony to see better, he saw the Brotherhood agent near the bottom of the stairs, approaching Lominstrall who was feebly trying to remove a large wooden crossbar from the double front doors.
The Suel stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the Chamberlain.
"Lominstrall!" he shouted.
Lominstrall stopped and looked around, puzzled.
"But...I...how did you get down here before me?" the Suel asked.
He started to turn around to look back up the stairs in confusion.

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Eloi's deceptive speed caught the man unawares, but he showed a surprising agility himself, and parried the blow, almost catching him on the riposte.
The man had Eloi's full attention now as he could tell that this was no man of little skill. Had he not been concentrating so hard he would have seen his one-time companion, Jean-Paul, drop the golem with a hearty swipe, the others carrying through their blows as the beast fell to be sure it was truly dead. As it was, they looked over to where the two fighters gave combat in their duel to the death.
Again, Eloi missed the warrior, but this time he was prepared, and with a precision thrust caught Eloi in the side of his ribs. Eloi began to think that perhaps he had made a mistake in fighting this man the 'honourable' way.
He settled again, and as the man turned, drew him in to an open side with a feint, before quickly recovering and catching the man's sword arm with a curling backhand strike. He could now see that the rest of the party had formed a very wide circle around the two men, but paid them no more attention than this as the warrior resumed his attack.
His opponent was met with thin air and the end of his flail, but again recovered with a passing stab that left Eloi's left leg bleeding, and in no doubt that there was magic of some sort in that blade.
In an instant, the fighter had turned again, and Eloi felt more pain as his blow struck true. His only retribution was a full-strength blow to the man's face, striking his diseased side and leaving him howling in pain as they both withdrew slightly to recover.
Eloi gave the man a quick nod of his head in recognition of his prowess.
"You are indeed a great fighter, my friend, you have surely bested me in this fight. I bow to you skill and hand the combat now to one of my colleagues. You do not fight like a man who wants to die!"
Eloi backed away from the man and warily stood down.
"I am too badly hurt to continue without risking my skin, one of you take over," he asked the others.
Jean-Paul shook his head in sympathy towards Eloi.
"It would not be the honourable thing to do my friend. This is your fight, you must continue whatever the outcome."
The diseased man snarled as he realised Eloi was trying to back out, and with a roar charged the half-orc, who only just raised his flail in time to parry the blow.
Aranon moved to the back of the group and, without the paladin's reservations about honour, he began praying and then quickly cast a spell in the direction of the disfigured fighter.
Eloi blocked the crazed man's attacks, then the man stopped, clutching at his eyes momentarily before flailing about with his falchion as an untrained man would. Or rather, a blind man!
"Bastard - could you not fight me fairly?!" he yelled as he continued his wild attack on Eloi.
With little effort, Eloi side-stepped, and as the man stumbled past him he caught him across the back with his flail. The man turned to face Eloi and again thrust his weapon at the half-orc, again missing and again feeling the crushing weight of Eloi's flail. From behind, the monk Sholin speared the diseased man, and all could see that he was badly injured.
There was a deafening bang, and a flash and smoke, and the man dropped his falchion and fell to his knees, a crimson patch flooding through his mail coat on the right side. Hamman stood there, pointing his pistol, which he had fired, at the dying man.
The man swayed for a moment on his knees.
"A blind, rotten dog!" he hissed. He slumped to the ground, his breathing laboured as his life flooded out the hole in his chest. Hamman shook his head in disgust.
"A curse on you, treacherous bastards!" the man rasped, before a gurgling froth spewed from his mouth and stopped him. In a moment his blind eyes were lifeless.
As Eloi regained his breath, the party stared at each other and at the dead man and the golem.

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Akhan felt his guardian angel frown in disapproval at his half-formed plan of attacking the Suel and Lominstrall. With a tinge of disappointment for the outrageous possibilities of pumas hurtling through the air he quickly turned his mind back to how he could create some sort of diversion or prevent these two from warning the rest of the garrison.
"Time for a good old bluff," he thought; the first sparks of an idea falling onto the fertile tinder of his imagination. "I'm not really wanting to get into any stand-up fights here so let's see if I can put them off going outside for a little while - play for time."
Akhan ransacked his memory again for a suitable image of a smug Thoggin in battle-dress, waiting only momentarily before willing himself into this somewhat disagreeable form. Looking at the balcony he heaved himself up onto the edge and smiled evilly down at the Suel and Lominstrall.
"Ha!" Thoggin/Akhan barked, almost rather than laughed. "Aren't you going to say welcome, Lominstrall. After so long from court I'd have expected a hello at least. Why don't you and your friend here come back upstairs and we can discuss your future?"
The Chamberlain and the Suel froze where they were - obviously, however bad he had imagined things were, Lominstrall had not planned for an event such as this!
Almost on cue, there was a muffled bang from upstairs - Akhan almost immediately recognised it as Hamman's pistol, but he was sure the other two had not.
As he went to turn casually and walk back up the stairs, Lominstrall spoke.
"My l...eh, my lord, Thoggin," he stuttered.
Akhan was enjoying this.
"Thank the Gods you are here!" the Chamberlain proclaimed, the Suel flinching in disbelief, then hiding his amazement. "I have this for you!"
Akhan watched in amusement as Lominstrall nervously took out a scroll from a leather case on his belt and unfurled it.
Then, as he began twisting his hands, making strange and weird sigils in the air, and chanting some dark, arcane language, Akhan realised that Lominstrall was casting a spell.

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Eloi stammered, "Thanks, guys I was in a bit of trouble there, boy, what a treacherous bunch we are eh?"
Eloi brushed himself down and surveyed his wounds.
"A little bit of healing wouldn't go amiss guys, anyone help?"
As he waited for the others to administer some healing he surveyed the room, looking in particular for an exit.
Jean-Paul was horrified. He turned to Aranon furiously.
"I have always looked up to you and tried to model my ways by your example. But, to dishonour that poor man by interfering in a fair fight is poor show. You dishonour all that we stand for. If Paladins cannot be honourable then I truly weep for our future."
He turned to Eloi, saying, "Your wounds are indeed bad, but you will get no healing from me, you did not win that fight fairly and as a result I want no part. I have my own wounds to heal, the wounds to my beliefs!"
He turned from the party in disgust and started to carry out an inspection of the room heading over to the door that the murdered man came from.
Aranon shook his head, saying, "I'm afraid I've used all my healing powers after the gargoyle incident, Eloi."
Aranon ignored Jean-Paul's outburst, but Hamman stepped in front of him.
"Distasteful as it was," Hamman said, "Would you rather Eloi were dead right now, Jean-Paul. I am a duellist, and would never intervene in any duel, but this is not a duel, it is a raid! And we, if I can remind you all, have a traitor to catch!"
Walking over to the door, Jean-Paul found the library to be most indistinct and positively boring. He had never much been one for the books. The door was closed, and did not appear to have a lock.
Eloi looked pleadingly to the others, who one by one shook their heads, having no more healing left to spare. He then decided to skulk at the back of the party, hoping to find some protection from further injury through their number.
Jean-Paul approached the door.
"Well, if we have no more business here I suggest we move on."
He drew his sword and tentatively turned the handle to open the door. Without a thought for the possibility of traps, the paladin yanked the door open.
Peering into the gloomy candlelit room beyond, he saw a sitting room of sorts, with a table and a couple of chairs. It was small, taking up about a quarter of the circular tower, and appeared to have no other exits than a circular staircase in the centre of the tower, which led downwards. There did not seem to be anyone within the room.
Aranon shook his head after Jean-Paul's outburst, as he stormed out of the room.
"A strange idea of honour, I fear, one wonders at the reaction had Mord struck him down with a fireball......"
Before anyone could reply, he shifted his grip on the staff and proceeded into the room, scanning around quickly for anything of interest or danger.
Moving steadily towards the stairs, Aranon peered into the gloom for a second, seeming oblivious to the well proven dangers of a crossbow bolt in the face.
"Well, lets all have a look then!" He paused dramatically before turning to the paladin with a mischievous grin on his face. "JP, you want to honourably go first?"

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In the distance, the first rays of dawn were creeping over the wooded horizon. For some strange reason, Bermen found himself thinking of Akhan's dog, Ash, back at the camp with Mordekei's snooty wyrmling.
He jumped slightly as he watched from the solar, when there was a muffled bang that broke the silence of the early morning. It reverberated slightly through the courtyard, but he was sure it had come from downstairs.

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As the realisation of the danger he was now in hit him, Akhan felt the apparent slowing of time familiar to him from all his previous brushes with death. With absolutely no hesitation he began to act almost at the same moment as he decided to abandon his Thoggin disguise.
Turning to flee from the balcony he simultaneously began to shift his shape into that of the small in bird which he had first entered the keep.
Within the body of such a small creature his heart seemed about to explode with its frantic drum roll of fear. The bird swooped down low trying desperately to power its way back towards the stairs and up to his companions.
"Bugger!" was the wordless shout in its mind as Akhan decided that his luck had finally run its course.
Akhan's lungs heaved as he flapped the unfamiliar wings as hard as he could, desperately trying to fly outwith the range of whatever spell was winging his way from Lominstrall's accursed fingertips. He felt a tightness across the feathers of his avian head as he anticipated the oncoming impact.
Then, as he reached the top of the stairs, his tiny heart sank in dismay.
The door at the top was closed!
From downstairs he heard a man, presumably the Suel, shout, "No! Lominstrall, no!"
Fluttering round at the last moment, he turned around and down, to see the Suel running towards the gradually disappearing shape of the Chamberlain.
He was teleporting away!
Then, as he circled back up to the door, it slowly opened, and standing there, armed and armoured for battle, Akhan saw the two Drow from the upper floor. The two Drow who had taken his eye!

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Jean-Paul turned to the others and suggested, "I think the staircase would be our next best move, I doubt that there is little in this room to take our interest."
Mord glanced around the room
"I don't know!" Mordekei mused. "The golem is an expensive beast to make, it may have been guarding something. Of course, it may have been to prevent unwarranted intrusion from whomsoever. I think we should quickly search the room for anything of interest or even concealed and secret doors."
As he walked out the door, following the others, Hamman spoke to Mordekei.
"Perhaps, Mord, the golem was there to protect its master, not his treasures. I would again suggest we make haste and return for the spoils later."
Eloi muttered something about, "headless fecking chickens," but followed the rest of the party at the rear. His wounds hurt and he was in no mood to add to them.
The others seemed to agree, as one by one they followed Jean-Paul through the door, and then down the spiral stairs. Sholin followed the paladin, then Tumbry and Aranon, to be followed by a worried-looking mage and a melodramatic sympathy-seeking Baron.
Hamman, having paused to reload his pistol, guarded the rear.
Slowly, cautiously, they went down, expecting treachery at every turn.
After about 12' of descent, the stairs continued down, or there was a landing, from which the paladin could see three doors. To his left and immediately behind him to the right there were stout wooden doors, but across the landing , slightly to the right, was an ironbound door with a Judas gate at about eye-level.
From below there was a muffled cry, but the knight could not make out a word.

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

"Bollocks" thought the little bird with heartfelt irritation as Lominstrall shimmered out of sight. "That's buggered it."
However, confronted with the approaching Drow he uttered an involuntary cheep and headed back down the stairs. Finding a conveniently dark perch overlooking the hall he waited.
"Lolth's titties! Those bastard Drow won't know that I'm disguised as a bird just yet. I can't fight three of them but I'm certainly not leaving here until I hear what this lot have got to say to each other. Just have to hope that the Suel didn't spot anything in his alarm at Lominstrall bolting. Can't hang around for too long though. By the sounds of things the rest of my merry friends have found a way past the trapdoor."
Akhan hopped daintily around on his perch in his agitation.
"Right here's what we do Bherruliann old boy. We'll give the Suel and these Dark buggers a chance to realise what's going on and blab something useful. But we'll only perch here for long enough for them to be annoyed. I don't want to be here when they start trying to figure out what's going on. So, if they don't drop anything tasty onto the conversational bird table within say twenty or thirty seconds, off we bugger."
As the Drow came into view of the bemused Suel, all three reacted with momentary surprise before realising it was an ally, not a foe. Even in the dim torch light of the main hall the Drow seemed uncomfortable, squinting their eyes somewhat.
Akhan's heart was now beating furiously, as they were but ten feet from him.
"Lominstrall has fled!" the Suel cried in his thickly-accented common tongue. "Thoggin, the Spymaster is within the tower, and I fear his men are outside and within also."
Walking even closer to the little bird, the two Drow started down the curving staircase to the ground floor.
"We mutht flee!" the female Drow said.
"How can we ethcape?" the male Drow demanded of the Suel.
Something seemed to dawn on the Suel and he appeared excited. The Drow were past Akhan now and almost at the ground floor, and he felt better for the fact that his route upstairs was now clear.
"In the kitchens - I saw a trapdoor there, and he told me not to go in there. Perhaps it is an escape tunnel!" he declared.
The Suel paused as something caught his eye - something small, feathered and resting on a banister!
With a look of horror, the Suel pointed at the little bird, yelling, almost screaming.
"The bird, the bird - it is Thoggin! Kill it!"
The Drow span around, hand crossbows raised, searching for this Thoggin-bird.
"Bloody crossbows," the bird cursed to itself. "Let's see if this Eye can get some payback."
Keeping perfectly still so as not to attract any attention, the feathered thief screwed up his concentration and thought carefully about the action he wanted to perform with the Eye's telekinesis.
"What I want is to try to knock one of the buggers aim off so as he or she's aiming at one of the others and I'm not too fussy who. Let's see who's crossbow would be easiest to re-aim?"
With the strain of a thousand hernias, the little bird put its mind to the task.
There was a soft twang, and the female Drow, in front, had a look of shock and agony as her companion's crossbow was loosed, involuntarily, into her back!
As she glanced back at him, now also sporting such a look of distress that it made the bird want to chirp at the top of its voice, her eyelids fluttered and she keeled over backwards down the three remaining stairs.
The Drow stood momentarily in horror, staring at his hand crossbow, before turning to the Suel - or to where the Suel had been.
Before he could even glance around, Akhan saw the Suel creeping nimbly behind him, sword drawn. Without a word, the Suel ran his sword into the Drow's back, thick, dark blood spewing from his gaping mouth.
"Treacherous bastard!" the Suel spat, as he slid the dying Drow off his blade.
The odds had improved, but the bird still did not like the look that the Suel was giving him as he hefted the sword and started towards the stairs!

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

Motioning to the others to keep quite, Aranon indicated the door with the Judas Gate.
"JP - you stand to the left, Sholin the right. I'll kick it in if necessary. Eloi, can you listen at the door, tell me if you can make out anything. The rest of you, cover the side doors - the last thing I want to discover is that one is another guard room."
He gave a sly grin.
Mordekei looked concerned, and whispered, "Hamman, I don't like this, we're quite exposed here if the other two are occupied."
He looked back up the stairs behind him nervously, then at the side doors.
Eloi smiled at Mordekei.
"Yer a fecking poof Mordy."
He cracked his knuckles and approached the door, melodramatically cocking his ear against the door panel. He listened intently.
Jean-Paul spoke.
"I reckon that the metal door will just be a pass door into another corridor and staircase. Unless you think that Lominstrall is now in flight I am more interested in exploring the other doors."
He looked to the others looking for their thoughts.
As they moved about, Eloi held up his hand and shushed everyone as he listened at the door. They all stood silent, holding their breath for a minute.
As Eloi took his ear from the door, he shook his head.
"Nothing," he said.
To Jean-Paul's comment, Sholin replied, "Easily tested, knight."
He stepped over to the Judas gate, which opened from this side, and undid the latch, dropping it down. Eager to see, Eloi pushed him aside and looked into the room.
There, lit by the first rays of dawn creeping in through a barred window, he saw a man, in a desperate condition, hanging manacled from the outside wall of the circular tower.
He stepped back slightly at the sight.
"A prison cell!" the Baron said.
Eloi turned to Mordekei.
"This might be more your cup of tea Mordy. Why don't you tend to this poor soul and try to establish who he is and why he is here?. The rest of us will explore the other doors."
Jean-Paul approached the middle of the three doors.
"If no one has any objections I suggest we open this door. Eloi can you check the door for traps?"
Eloi walked to the door and, cracking his fingers again, he did a careful search of the door and its structure to establish if there were any traps.
Eloi was worried about a few of the scratch marks on the door, and looked it over thoroughly, again and again. Despite a nagging suspicion, however, he could find no sign of any traps. With trepidation he pulled out his lockpicks and set to work. Within seconds he felt the tumblers of the lock drop.
He looked around to the paladin, nodding as he shuffled away from the unlocked door. He hoped the bead of sweat about his forehead did not reveal his concerns about the door, and said a silent prayer of thanks that it was not he who would be opening the portal.
Unsuspecting, the knight, sword in one hand, jerked the handle and swiftly flung the door open. It revealed a bedchamber, dimly lit by a candle. It had the appearance that it too had been quickly abandoned, the bed sheets being flung aside, the clothing still hanging out an open drawer nearby. It was also scattered with things of a military nature, a sharpening stone, a variety of weapons and pieces of armour that did not match.
Jean-Paul could see, by the side of the bed, a falchion, and he felt sure that this must be the room of the man the others had murdered upstairs, although the blade did not look nearly so fine as the one he had used when killed.
Eloi still held his breath as Jean-Paul stood just inside the door, almost expecting a scything blade or poison darts to spring out at his one-time saviour at any moment. This sudden lack of confidence was so unusual as to thoroughly perplex him.
Eloi turned to the others, somewhat relieved.
"Well, little to see in that room, I suggest we now try this one."
Eloi moved to the door on the left hand side of the one that he had just opened. He again checked the door for traps and listened intently for any sound emanating from the room. Once satisfied he checked the door to see if it was locked and if it was set about opening it with his lock-pick.
Jean-Paul hoped to find some clue as to the background of the man they had murdered and entered the room. He approached the open drawer and searched its contents, looking for any papers which may help him discover the identity of the man and the cause of his illness.
A brief search told Jean-Paul probably everything about the murdered man - at least everything he would want to know. His quarters were spartan, his possessions meagre, and mostly relating to battle. A copious quantity of ointments, bandages and other assorted healing goods indicated his vain attempts to cure the ill that cursed his life. Jean-Paul left the room with a dark cloud hovering above his head.
While he searched, Eloi checked the other door. This one was not locked, and this time he felt sure that there were no traps about the door. With a turn of the handle, he hefted his shoulder against the door and it flew open. A curious smell met his flared nostrils, and a strange glow emanated from the room.
The room was dominated by a large, sturdy table, on which an assortment of glass receptacles, filled with a variety of liquids of different colour and opacity, stood. Small burners at various points were undoubtedly hurrying whatever process the owner of this laboratory was effecting.
Aranon peered through the Judas gate at the fellow in manacles.
"Looks like he's not going to exactly jump us here." he mused, before shooting a grin to the rest of the party. "While these two trash that other guys room, I say we take a look in here"
As Jean-Paul walked over from the bedchamber, they all turned immediately to the stairwell as a bloodcurdling yell, somewhat muffled by the stone walls, rose up from below.
Mord turned around quickly, startled, and stifled an oath. Realising that the howl might draw any occupants out of the room behind him, and deciding to be proactive, he quickly span, in his best impersonation of Sholin's martial talents, and kicked the locked door, which opened outwards as most jail cells do, with all his might.
In an instant, as the strong metal-bound door held firm, Mordekei was sitting crumpled on the floor nursing his injured foot and suppressing the urge to scream pitifully. He certainly never recalled having such problems with dungeon doors in his youth!
Glancing back round, the sight jogged Jean-Paul's memory.
"There's a key hanging up just inside that room," he said, pointing to the murdered man's bedchamber.
With a wry grin, Aranon stepped inside and lifted the heavy iron key from the hook inside the door. He unlocked the cell door and cautiously opened it, peering inside to ensure there were no unseen occupants.
As they stood in silence, they could hear the wheezing, rasping breath of the manacled man. The man was tall, and although dishevelled and bloodied, drawn and beaten, his frame betrayed that he was once a massive, immense being, probably a warrior or priest of some sort.. He was sound asleep, and from the growth on his face had been there quite a few days. Aranon knew, from seeing such things so often, that the man, despite his mighty stature, was close to death.
Eloi looked on at Mordekei and Aranon's nursing attempts at the prisoner.
"May I suggest that we investigate that commotion that appears to be going on downstairs! For all we know Akhan and Bermen may be fighting for their very lives! I will investigate."
Eloi turned, drew his flail and cautiously descended the staircase using every ounce of his abilities to remain unseen and unheard.
Aranon took another quick look around the room, before going up to the prisoner and placing his hand on the fellow's brow. He shook his head at the others, before unhooking his wineskin and forcing a little of the liquid between the man's dry lips.
"Who are you my son, what fate brought you here?"
The man murmured nonsensically as Aranon fed him the wine, still very much unconscious. Aranon knew from his experience of such things that the man was in the latter stages of delirium, but not yet unsaveable, particularly with the graces of the Laughing Rogue.
Hamman looked into the cell, saying, "Aranon, we are headed downstairs to
the commotion."

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

Closely followed by the monk Sholin, Eloi started cautiously down the circular stairs. A floor down, they came to an end in a landing that seemed to be used as a sort of sitting room - with a table, several empty flagons and tankards, a deck of playing cards and four chairs.
To the wall immediately behind the entrance from the stairs, which seemed to bisect the circular tower, there was a door on either side. There was also a door on each of the walls to the left and right of the sitting room.
The door to the front and right was lying open, and there seemed to be another staircase going down there around the outer wall of the tower in a clockwise direction. From there Eloi and Sholin could hear faint voices.
They also heard someone coming down the stairs behind them, probably a fighter by the noise he was making.
Eloi turned to Sholin.
"Probably a guard room, and I would guess that the guards are that way" he said as he pointed towards the open doorway. "I hope that the person following is Bermen or we will be like rats in a trap. Anyways, at least Aranon and Mordekei will see some action. Might I suggest we see what's going on through the door?"
Eloi drew his dagger and approached the open door.
Suddenly, from the open doorway, they heard the clash of steel upon steel, the unmistakable sounds of battle.

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

The look the Suel was giving the little bird made it ruffle its feathers involuntarily. Puffing its chest feathers out it cheeped rather pitifully, torn between the desire to congratulate itself on the Eye's success and the realisation that it was still in the shit.
"Ah, baste me over a campfire! I'm more than probably stuffed if I take this one on for a duel too. I need an edge here..."
As the Suel began to climb the stairs the little bird found itself staring at the crossbow bolt in the Drow's back again with not a little smugness. It had to shake itself roughly back to the approaching reality of being dissected. Just as its eyes settled on him again though, Akhan cheeped with inspiration.
"I might not be able to shoot the damn thing straight but it'll buy some time and if I know the rest of the merry crew upstairs they'll get down here eventually. So let's see if I can get hold of this Drow hand crossbow..."
The bird waited till the Suel had moved far enough up the steps to be away from the body of the fallen Drow who still grasped her unused hand crossbow. "Just a little bit closer friend... ...And that's far enough!"
Akhan launched himself into the air before the Suel would be able to intercept him. He soared upwards, pumping his wings furiously to gain speed and then swoop down on the hand crossbow.
"Rigor mortis shouldn't have set in just yet." he thought gratefully.
As the bird took to the air, it saw the Suel reach with his free hand into a belt pouch. In a fluid movement, the metal object he removed from there was singing through the air, narrowly missing the bird as it swooped to the ground.
He approached the body of the Drow in a steep dive, and again concentrated on the form of Thoggin, preparing to shift back into that shape as soon as he landed on the Drow, ready to grab the crossbow. However, just as he was about to land he remembered the speed with which the Suel had moved and thought better of that idea.
Yet again the Carnival of strange animals he had seen flashed before his racing mind and a small, furry monkey dropped on the arm of the Drow.
Emitting a shriek, the monkey quickly grabbed the hand crossbow and scurried off from the Suel. As he tried to run off, away from the fast-approaching Suel, who had vaulted the final stairs and banister, he was tugged back as her hands remained closed around its handle. A swift glance at the Drow and Akhan could tell from her eyes that she was not in fact dead! Of course he was aware that the Drow used sleep and paralysis poison on their weapons, but the thought had not occurred to him.
He had just managed to pry the crossbow from the Drow's rigid hand when the Suel reached him, yelling, almost screaming, an unpronounceable battle-cry as he swung his sword at the monkey.
The monkey leapt out the way, then stared in fright at the two inches of tail it had left behind with the Suel's sword, grateful that it was not truly his own tail
The monkey screeched angrily at the Suel as it scuttled off. The sneaking about had finally palled and Akhan pulled himself violently back into his own form.
Akhan's earlier misgivings about taking on the Suel disappeared as a cold rage at his attacker took hold of him. As his shape shifted, his hand clutched the hilt of Kagnstir and he swept it out of its scabbard, brandishing it at the approaching Suel.
"Right pretty boy, time to dance," he thought. "Better fall on your sword now, Suel. Doesn't look like your friends care much for your survival!" he spat.
Akhan decided to try and goad the man - he might just decide to treat for mercy but either way it still might put him off.
"The King's army waits outside for you to dangle at the end of a rope. Or would you choose to treat for your life. Give us Lominstrall and something may be arranged."
The thief prepared for the Suel's riposte; verbal or otherwise...
The Suel looked puzzled.
"Lominstrall has deserted us," he said.
A look of recognition came over him.
"From the inn...the night Ganmaar disappeared!" he exclaimed. "So, you and your companions were up to no good, Skarsigh!"
The Suel lifted his shortsword in a more aggressive stance.
"I have no quarrel with you," he continued, "But I will kill you if you do not let me past!"
Akhan realised that he now stood between the man and the double front doors, which were barred with a heavy wooden crossbar. He could hear no noise from upstairs, or any other indication that the others were on their way.
Akhan smiled at the mention of the other Suel they had encountered back in Kro's garden at Niole Dra.
"Grandma, Ganmaar?" he said smirking more widely still.
The tip of Kagnstir was shadowing the movements of the Suel, almost in a dance of its own devising. Then, Akhan's smile disappeared and he addressed the Suel coldly.
"Give me some answers and I may let you pass."
Cocking his head sideways and looking ever warily at the Suel, Akhan took a careful step back towards the door.
"One step closer - my gesture of good intent."
"Was Lominstrall the only traitor?" he asked suddenly.
With his question, he decided to gamble on the Eye's power of reaching into people's minds to try and gather anything useful from the Suel's thoughts at this moment.
His fear however was that of the Suel losing patience altogether and simply engaging him.
"Try and gather what I can just now. If he decides to fight then this strategy goes right out the window," the thief calculated to himself.
The Suel seemed to consider Akhan's offer, long enough for him to delve into his torrid mind.
As he mentioned the possibility of another traitor, Akhan saw a picture form of a small castle in a town, with a jungle beyond it. From the Suel's eyes, Akhan stood on the battlements as a figure in a red hooded robe approached him. The figure, quite short, pulled back its hood and Akhan almost cried out as he recognised the person beneath!
Suddenly the picture faded and Akhan knew the Suel was about to attack. Yet as he raised Kagnstir to strike, a blinding pain seared across the top of his head - the Eye!
As he stumbled, Akhan lifted up his sword to deflect the Suel's blow, but he felt his enemy's blade cut deep into his shoulder as he tumbled to the floor, into the dark depths of unconsciousness..
And through his lurid, vivid, troubled sleep, the face of Fimuth Celanil, Count of Axewood and Lord of Fim-Sular, haunted him!

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