Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 21 - Down the Trapdoor

Eloi glanced nervously as the footsteps grew louder, but as he saw the boots and fancy britches come into sight, his fear was set aside. It was only Hamman descending clumsily after them.
Eloi put his fingers to his mouth in a silencing gesture.
He turned, and again started towards the open door. As he peered down, he saw the stairway curve away down the outer wall of the round tower in a clockwise direction, descending out of sight. Around the corner it appeared reasonably well lit, and the sounds of fighting had stopped abruptly.
Descending warily, the rogue made his footsteps as light and quiet as possible. As he rounded the corner, Sholin following a few feet behind, the unusual structure of the stairway came into sight, a further stairway joining it from the centre of the tower. The main room was two storeys high, and had a mezzanine type room with a balcony to the right.
Down in the main hall which Eloi gazed upon, near to the door and lying on the floor, eyes closed and quite still, lay Akhan. Eloi could see blood on the floor about him, his magical blade glowing about 3' from his outstretched right hand.
Also on the floor, close to the stairs, lay two Drow. One, unmistakably dead, had a large hole in its chest and its black blood covered the floor about it. The other lay face down, a small hand crossbow bolt, like the Drow favoured, in the small of its back.
Eloi turned as he heard a bang against the door to his right. It sounded as though someone were barring the door from the inside.

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Jean-Paul spoke quietly to Aranon.
"Perhaps we should leave this poor soul here and return for him later. We have more pressing business. We should head downstairs and see what the noise is about. Make him comfortable and lets go."
He turned leaving Mordekei and Aranon with the prisoner and headed downstairs towards the sounds of commotion which he noted had suddenly stopped.
Jean-Paul had left but a moment when both Mordekei and Aranon heard shouting from below.
"Jean-Paul, Aranon, Mordekei! Come quickly, Akhan is wounded!"
It sounded like Hamman's voice.

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The sun was rising in the east, and thankfully beginning to warm Bermen's frozen bones. From below, he could hear noises as the day started in earnest.
A cockerel crowed loudly in the outer courtyard, and he was sure that some of the soldiers would be soon moving about below. After the bang, he had heard no further noise form the party below.
Bermen scrubbed at the side of his face with the flat of his hand, examining several days' growth. "Getting a bit grubby," he thought.
His conscience still bothered him a bit for not charging down to see what was going on when he heard the sharp bang. But he had rationalised it at the time with the knowledge that the whole game would have gone straight down the toilet if he had rushed off and one of the occupants of this Keep had then escaped through the doors below. Now though, the situation was changing rapidly with the rapidly appearing red ball of fire low in the sky.
"Pretty likely to be someone reporting to the Keep early in the morning for orders. And those coins on the ground are going to raise some eyebrows too. No, it would be all very dutiful to sit here until the others give me a shout but this isn't going to be an option soon. I think it's time to lend a hand. This needs to be brought to a conclusion fairly rapidly now and I reckon it doesn't much matter if anyone escapes just right now."
His thoughts having crystallised on the proper course of action, Bermen allowed himself a satisfied nod to himself. Carefully now, so as not to attract the attention of any sharp eyes he moved away from the edge and stowed his bow and arrows. Then with his sword at the ready he looked briefly into the trapdoor to check the scene below and lowered himself into the Keep. With a last look round to accustom his eyes to the rapidly disappearing gloom he moved off down the stairs in search of the rest of the party.

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Hamman turned and ran back up the stairs. Eloi sprinted over to the prone Akhan. He was almost ashamed as the thought of filching his pockets while he lay there came into his mind, but not quite.
Thankfully Akhan was still breathing. Eloi placed his head to the half-elf's chest and was pleased to hear that his heartbeat was as strong as a Euroz war drum.
From upstairs, Eloi heard Hamman shouting to the others. Jean-Paul had only reached the circular staircase when Hamman's voice shouted up at them. With a spring, he leapt down the stairs, soon catching Hamman as he ran through the sitting room and down the clockwise staircase.
Looking at the shoulder wound it did not appear that bad to Eloi, and apart from the wounds of the earlier fight with the gargoyle, Eloi reckoned Akhan was in pretty good shape and there was no reason for him to be out cold.
Sholin was standing over by the door, testing its strength. Eloi looked up at Jean-Paul, at a loss, as he was more learned of killing a man than of healing him. Satisfied that Akhan would be better off tended by Jean-Paul, Eloi walked over to Sholin.
"How are you getting on?" he asked. He gave the door a quick glance over looking for any weak points that it may have. He paid particular attention to the door hinges.
Sholin shook his head.
"A fairly stout door," he replied to Eloi. "I think it has been barred from the inside."
Eloi had a good look at the door. Undoubtedly it could be broken down, but would probably take at least ten minutes to do so.
Jean-Paul walked over to Akhan and cast a more medically trained eye over Akhan's wounds. He drew a water pouch from his backpack and lifted Akhan's head to drink from it. He watched Eloi and Sholin survey the door from the corner of his eyes.
"Where the hell are Aranon and Mordekei?" he asked Hamman. "We have more pressing business down here!"
Jean-Paul was bemused by Akhan's condition. He was fast asleep, but seemed not to be badly wounded, or suffering in anyway. He did not feel there was much he could do for his friend. Looking up at the stairs he silently cursed Aranon again for his tardiness.

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Aranon shook his head, looking at the distraught man. With a thought and a prayer, he beseeched Olidamarra to return the man from the brink of death.
As the magic of his spell worked through the manacled man's body, Aranon could see the healing spread by the weak sunlight coming into the cell through the barred window. He pressed the wineskin to the man's lips.
The man's eyes flickered open, and he swallowed gratefully, choking as the liquid went down.
When he had regained his breath, Aranon questioned him.
"Who are you, friend?"
As though remembering something, the man turned his head to the left, where empty manacles hung from the wall. He squeezed his eyes tight as though the sunlight was burning them. When he turned back, Aranon was sure he saw tears filling the man's eyes.
"Bek.." the man croaked, before being forced to swallow painfully again. "Bekkar."
Mordekei heard the noise of footsteps coming down towards them, and in a minute Bermen appeared on the stairwell. Stepping into the landing he looked quizzically at the mage.
"Where is everyone?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued, "It is light outside and the guards are stirring. We must make haste - have we any success?"
Aranon turned to face Bermen.
"Quick, give me a hand to free this man!"
Mordekei began examining the manacles.
"What's all the fuss outside?" he asked, without turning his head.
Aranon and Bermen held the man up, supporting his weight from the cutting manacles, while Mordekei examined the fastenings. Seeing they were held together by a metal screw, Mordekei removed his dagger and began to undo them as quickly he could.

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

Eloi turned to Jean-Paul.
"Go and get fecking Mordekei, useless bastard might be able to cast a spell on this door that will either open it or destroy it. The longer we wait the more chance whoever is behind it will be able to fortify his position, prepare or escape! Get his arse down here now by whatever means necessary even if you have to drag him down!"
Jean-Paul left the unconscious body of Akhan, he thought that some magical ailment had a hold on him. He acknowledged Eloi's request and ran up the stairs, his mood getting worse by the minute.
Leaping the stairs in two's and three's, the paladin set of after the mage.
As Eloi waited, the seconds seemed like minutes, and his mind could only see Lominstrall running ever further away along some secret escape tunnel. With a glance at Akhan, Eloi paced up and down the floor.
"Sholin, remind me to give Mordekei a swift and hard kick up the arse as soon as we are out of this mess."
Reaching the top of the stairs, Jean-Paul could see that Mordekei and Aranon had not made their way down at all, and he ran over to the circular stairs and started running back to where they had left them. As he reached the second floor, Jean-Paul walked over to the cell door.
Therein stood Mordekei, along with Aranon and Bermen too!
"Mordekei!" came the shout, causing the trio, who were intent on their task, to jump somewhat.
They turned to see Jean-Paul, somewhat flustered by exertion, standing in the cell doorway. With a final turn, Mordekei undid the first leg manacle.
"Get yourself downstairs now!" he continued. "Lominstrall escapes and we need your magics!"
Jean-Paul turned to Aranon.
"Aranon, Akhan is unconscious and I cannot fathom what ails him. He may need your assistance."
Jean-Paul paused, drawing them a thunderous scowl that seemed to suggest that he might drag them downstairs if he had to.
"Shite!" exclaimed Aranon "Give us a bloody hand then!"
Aranon continued to support the man while JP and Mord worked on the chains.
Mordekei glanced up nervously, and continued to work as fast as he could. Exasperated at his slow work, he turned to Jean-Paul.
"Well don't just bloody stand there then, hit the damn chain with your sword or I'll be here all day!"
Jean-Paul roared out at Mordekei and Aranon.
"Look I know this might seems against my knightly traits, but I really don't give a fuck at the moment whether this man lives or dies! Get your arse downstairs now! We do not have time to be nurse maids at the moment. May I remind you that one of our party lies injured downstairs and is in urgent need of your assistance and every second wasted gives Lominstrall further time to escape justice!"
With that, he turned heel and ran back downstairs.
Mordekei continued working feverishly at the manacles, ignoring the outburst. Aranon muttered something under his breath, and kept supporting the fellow. By the time Jean-Paul had left the room, Mordekei had undone the second leg manacle. In next to no time, the stronger Bermen had undone the other two fastenings.
"I suppose he's hanging here because he's a ruddy nobody, is he?!" Aranon said, to no-one in particular.
As soon as they finished, laying Bekkar to the floor, Aranon and Mordekei stood up.
"Bermen, you keep an eye on him. Mord and I may have spells of use to halt Lominstrall"
They followed the raging paladin down the circular stairs, through the sitting room and down the further flights of stairs into the main hall, where Eloi was pacing back and forth.
Before reaching the final staircase they heard Eloi's dulcet tones screaming out from below.
"If you do not come down here right now, I am going to come upstairs and stick a dagger into the prisoners heart! Then you won't have anybody to save and you won't have any choice, but come down and help."
Aranon turned to Mordekei.
"At the risk of letting frustration cloud my judgement, I'm going to stick a fucking flame strike up that wee shite's arse if he doesn't shut the fuck up!"
As they ran down, the Baron's shouting had mercifully stopped.
Sholin, who had been listening at the door, drew back as they descended the final few steps.
"A door, maybe a trap door, shutting. Then silence." he said.
"About fucking time too," Eloi raged. "Open that fucking door, mage, and perhaps you could take a look at Akhan if you have time!"
Eloi tapped his fingers and paced up and down the room muttering waiting for Mordekei to do something!
Mord turned to Eloi, and dismissed him with flick of the wrist.
"With what, half breed - the same Knock spell which I didn't possess when we were in the attic? Fool"
He reached into his robe and produced a small wand, waving it before Eloi in an almost threatening manner, before turning his attention to the goings on at the door.

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Bermen stared at the prisoner curiously, trying to determine what he could about him.
Grasping his hand he leant forward to speak clearly to him.
"Rest easy now man," he rumbled. "You are delivered from your chains and Chamberlain Lominstrall has fled. What ill chance brought you here?"
The man, although a few steps from deaths door, still seemed dazed and bemused. As Bermen asked him of his circumstances, the man turned again to the next set of manacles.
"Bekkar - where is he?"
The man was lapsing in and out of consciousness, and Bermen thought there was little he could do for him. From downstairs he heard Eloi roar, as though venting his fury at the belligerent priest and mage.
Listening to the wrangling from downstairs, Bermen decided it was high time for them to get the hell out. He looked down at the prisoner and sighed.
"I don't supposed you're going to oblige me by getting up and running along with us are you?" he asked rather rhetorically as the man continued to groan and mumble. "Thought not."
The ranger clapped hold of the man's arm just above his wrist and flipped him expertly over his shoulder. Pausing briefly to adjust the weight, he found the actions so familiar that he felt a brief pang of nostalgia for the last time he'd been on a truly heroic pub crawl with his unit.
Then, sighing, he made his way carefully down the stairs of the Keep to join the others, the still-mumbling man perched over his left shoulder and Gottflinder ready in his right hand.

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Aranon looked once around the room before striding over to Akhan. Checking for a pulse, he looked over the prostrate thief, but could find little wrong with him. His breathing and heartbeat were strong, no obvious wounds apart from a minor cut to the shoulder, and no sign of poison there. He was bemused at his condition, but he did not seem to be in any overt danger at present.
Hamman seemed to get very annoyed at Mordekei's response.
"Then be imaginative! Blast the bloody thing to pieces, teleport it away, do something. Just get the thing open before he escapes!" he yelled.
"Hamman!" Sholin yelled, pausing before continuing in a much calmer voice.
"Everyone - we are becoming distraught at Lominstrall's flight, but we must not take it out on each other! Everyone think of how we might open the door, and we will come up with something. If not, then we must break it down!"
As everyone stopped momentarily, there were heavy footsteps on the stairs, and they turned to see Bermen padding down, face bright red as he was carrying the prisoner across his shoulder.
Suddenly there was a banging on the outer double doors.
Everyone looked at each other in astonishment.
There was another, longer, pounding, and some indiscernible shouting from outwith.
"Hell's teeth !" Bermen puffed as he came to a halt. "That's the garrison come for their breakfast. Does it look as if there's another way out?"
Bermen turned to look at Jean-Paul.
"You said something about Lominstrall escaping. Which way has he gone?
Bermen had felt his guts give a sickening lurch at first when he had seen the prostrate Drow female.
He could almost have imagined it was...
But no. Not her at all.
Still and all, he couldn't help but feel curiosity about these two Drow after his earlier encounter and he placed his human cargo gently on the floor to take a quick look at them.
"Can't spend too long rifling through their stuff but you never know what sort of clues as to their involvement they might have on them," he thought.
Quickly now with the guards still thumping on the Keep doors, he made his search of the two Drow.
"Why don't we use Mordekei's head to bust open the door?" Eloi pondered
Bermen shouted, "Do you recognise these two Eloi? The ones with the doppelganger in the park in Niole Dra. Do you think this is Akhan's handy work? Or has Lominstrall done for them all?"
As Bermen knelt there, the death-song of Khjallas Vernbrinnyen, a tragic Drow hero in the days of the Descent, ran through his head. Its haunting melody, as Eldrave would sing it, always made Bermen somehow long for the darkness of her underground world.
"Silver-black and soft rapport..."
The male had undoubtedly been stabbed from behind - but glancing over at Akhan's blade, Bermen could see it had none of the Drow's darker red blood which appeared black when spilled in the light. Clasped tightly in his left hand he held a hand crossbow, which had been fired.
"Sweet waters of the Sunless Sea..."
Looking over at the other Drow, Bermen suddenly wondered if this one had shot her, from the angle of the bolt. A quick check revealed nothing unusual for a Drow - the usual shortsword, spiked buckler, armour, crossbow and bolts. Eclavdra had once told him how their armour and weapons were made stronger by the magic in the Vaults of the Drow, but how this wore off in
time, especially when taken above ground. This Drow's equipment seemed particularly lacklustre, and Bermen had the feeling he and his companion had been above ground for weeks, possibly months.
"My Mother's shadow beckons me..."
Bermen rose and walked over to the female, about eight feet away, closer to the stairs.
"I'll wander the tunnels no more."
As he knelt, Bermen realised that a tear had come to his eye, and swiftly tried to turn away from whoever may be watching, but he was not fast enough for it to escape a bemused Mordekei's notice.
As he reached over the female Drow, Bermen felt a slight breath on the back of his hand! It was all he could do to prevent himself jumping back in surprise!
A glance at her eyes confirmed his suspicion - she was alive! Probably some sort of Drow paralysis poison on the bolt!
The pounding on the door continued!
Eloi did not recognise the Drow, and responded to Bermen's question. He then turned to Mordekei firing daggers with his eyes.
"You'd better start performing soon wizard or the only things you be conjuring in the future
will be rabbits out your butt at children's parties."
Mordekei continued to watch Eloi carefully.
"Would you care to repeat that, half-breed?" he challenged.
Ignoring the challenge, Eloi turned to the others.
"I have a suggestion for breaching the room. As most of you will know I own the Doors of Drawmji, a modest dwelling incorporated on a piece of scroll. Why don't the majority of the party join me inside the Doors? One or two members of the party can remain outwith and slide the door through the door. Say on the count of ten after we enter. We can then open the Doors, unbar the door, let the others in and deal with Lominstrall? I don't know if the Doors are capable of this deed but, it is the only thing I can think of at the moment."
Jean-Paul commented, "If it would work it will be better than standing around here waiting for the guards to find us, and if no-one has any better ideas then we should at least try."
He looked straight at Mordekei, hoping the mage would save them from having to go inside something that resided in Eloi's nether regions.
Hamman looked at Eloi's underpants with great consternation, recalling the time in the Palace when he rolled the Doors back up.
"How do you know what happens when the Doors are locked and become 'unreal' as it were? Have you done it before?" he asked, sceptically.
Thinking for a second, Eloi shook his head and shrugged.
"So you don't know if it would work or just kill us, then?" asked Tumbry
"I don't know if it would work or just kill us now!" replied Eloi.
"I know!" declared Hamman. "Perhaps we should use your thick skull as a battering ram, and pound the doors in!"
Eloi gave Hamman a very strange look.
"Well, it was only a suggestion," Eloi said. "But seriously, Mordekei, we need your assistance, use your magic by whatever spell necessary to destroy that door. Surely a wizard of your expertise has a suitably destructive spell. If not, then I suggest we break down the door before they do!"
Eloi pointed towards the door that the pounding came from. He then proceeded to rummage about his backpack, finally producing a crowbar.
"Let's get to work!" he cheerily announced.
Jean-Paul crouched down next to Akhan.
"Any thoughts, Aranon, have you detected any poison in his system? I fear that Akhan as fallen foul of some evil and powerful magic. We should help Eloi open the door, our priority is to capture Lominstrall after all. I do not think we have the ability to aid Akhan at this time and we may all perish if we remain here."
Aranon nodded at Akhan.
"Could be poison, but I don't know if its as simple as that. His pulse is fairly constant and his breathing steady. But lets worry about that in a minute, first I think we should get this door open."
Aranon checked Akhan once again, before turning his attention to the door. He began an incantation, then stood back as if examining the portal.
"Its not magically held!" he told the others.
"Have we any idea what's on the other side?" Aranon enquired, appearing poised to kick to the barred door in.
"Someone barred it from the other side as we arrived," Sholin said calmly.
The only thing I know is that I want to open this bloody door before they open theirs!" Eloi said, half-yelling as he the door a sharp kick with his boot, and reeling back in agony, grasped his toes.
He started working on the door with the crowbar.
"Well, are you all just going to stand there or are you going to help?"
Jean-Paul walked over to the door that the pounding was coming from and quickly surveyed it to see how well it was withstanding the constant pummelling that the guards outside were giving it. Follow his survey he walked over to the barred door to see the progress that Eloi was making and reported his findings.
"Should hold a while longer," he declared.
Bermen looked round at the others as Eloi heaved at the door with his crowbar.
The shock of this female Drow still living drove all thoughts of his Eclavdra form his mind only to replace them with the turmoil of uncertainty. He looked dubiously at the others, feeling torn
His mind went back to the King's Park in Niole Dra and their last encounter and
he felt again the conflicting loyalties.
"But, this Drow has brought herself here and not I. My duty to my companions and the King are clear enough however much respect I have for these two," he thought.
Having made up his mind, Bermen decided to inform the others.
"Gentlemen, we have another problem. This female Drow is only unconscious - probably with some sort of paralysis poison. I would suggest that we must take her with us also. Consider, if Lominstrall manages to escape our grasp here then we may need to question her."
At this he looked troubled and muttered, "Though I wouldn't lay odds on us getting anything more than curses out of her."
Thinking now of the Drow waking unexpectedly, he set to binding her hands and mouth although he was careful not to constrict her breathing.
"Mord, you got anything that will do it?" Aranon asked, looking over the door again.
Mordekei shook his head.
"The lightning bolt might do it, but I'm afraid that it'll just as likely take some of us out too."
Nodding, Aranon continued.
"Well I suggest you chaps take some cover then, whilst I rely on some real magic to do the work"
Aranon stood well back from the door and began to cast a spell. As he prepared, the others scuttled about trying to find cover, or distance, or both. The pounding continued from the outer doors.
Bermen dragged the female Drow, now bound and with her wound dressed, over towards the stairway where he had laid down the prisoner, now asleep. As Aranon began to cast the spell, he heard Tumbry, who had taken cover on the other side of the inner room from the door, shouting.
"No, wait!"
With the words of his God, Aranon called down a pillar of fire about the door, which billowed out towards them with a mighty roar.
Aranon looked over where Tumbry had been.
"There's an open door on this side of the room!" Tumbry declared, rather sheepishly.
Staring at the half-charred door for a moment, which had not been completely destroyed but would undoubtedly have the security features of warm toast, Aranon followed the others over to the other side of the hall, where Tumbry stood.
Looking in, they could see a large square kitchen, with a table in the middle, upon which lay all manner of foodstuffs, pots, pans and cooking equipment.
"Not bad for a war-torn famine-stricken country," Hamman observed dryly.
There was nobody within the kitchen and, apart from a char grilled door directly opposite this one, no other ways out.
Slowly they moved into the room.
"So where has this Lominstrall gone?" asked Sholin.
Bermen's stomach reminded him rather painfully of his duty towards it and he quickly pilfered some of the more tasty looking items of food lying around. Having stowed all this away he began to munch on a morsel by way of breakfast.
With a grin that made him look all the more ugly, were that possible, Eloi stepped over and knelt underneath the table. Placing the haft of his flail into a notch in the flagstones of the floor, Eloi levered up the large wooden trap door, covered with false flagstones.
Peering down, he saw a wooden ladder lead directly down from the trap door into the darkness, beyond which even his infravision could see nothing.
There was a dullness of sound below, as though this ladder led down for some considerable distance.
A horrific stench wafted up to Eloi as he leaned over the trap door.
"Hell's feckin' bollocks!" he thought, suppressing his look of disgust lest he should put the others off from venturing in first.
He had never smelt anything quite like it - a sort of rotting meat with an overpowering stink of vinegar that took his breath away.
Eloi had smelled some rotten things in his time, but this smell actually made him afraid to go down there!
Eloi turned to the others, a worried look on his visage, saying, "Well, who's going first?"
Aranon gazed down the open trap door, and turned to Eloi. "Suits you sir, suits you."
Champing his teeth vigorously on this snack he looked at Eloi and said, "Ladies first Eloi."
Bermen smiled at his own wit this early in the day.
"Come on, I'll follow you down. We secure the area at the bottom and the rest of you follow us with the baggage."
This was said with a significant look at the unconscious Akhan.
"Last man down can pull the trapdoor down again. Hopefully the soldiers either won't have been told about this passage or will take their time for it to occur to them."
Bermen tipped his head on one side to Eloi.
"Shall we?"
Eloi turned to Bermen and with a wry grin, said, "Smells almost as bad as you do, down there. It smells like your pants after I beat you in that fight on our way back to Axewood."
With that final comment Eloi gripped his dagger in his teeth and descended into the tunnel.
As Eloi descended, Aranon shouted after him.
"Give it a quick check for traps, eh? Wouldn't want to get skewered or anything."
Jean-Paul turned to Aranon.
"Help me carry Akhan, the sooner we are away from here the better. It will not be long before the guards return."
Jean-Paul walked back to Akhan's lifeless body and gently lifted him with the help of Aranon, and they carried it towards the open trapdoor.
"What about the Drow and the prisoner?" asked Sholin.
"Seems like we've more asleep than awake in this party!" Tumbry mused.
Bermen, sword in one hand, followed Eloi into the darkness.

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The stench was horrific.
"But not as horrific as something that's brewing in my intestines," he thought, trying to overcome his disgust at the smell with a little bit of Eloi humour.
As he went down the ladder, it occurred to Eloi that he had no light to see with. Unfortunately, this thought coincided with complete darkness descending on the rogue.
As he clambered down, Eloi suddenly realised that as well as being totally unable to see anything, there wasn't a single sound to be heard! Not the sound of his feet on the ladder, the others talking above, only the pounding of his distressed half-orc heart.
He continued down the ladder, and counting the rungs as he went he reckoned he was now about 20 feet down.
But as he reached down for the next rung - there wasn't one!
Both hands still firmly on the ladder, and his other foot, he flailed about first for the ladder and then for some other floor or platform to stand on.
There was nothing!
Suddenly, pain shot through Eloi's right hand as something pressed on it and he instinctively let go the ladder with that hand, swinging out to the side as he did so. He caught the side, and was just pulling himself back in when another blow sent pain down his left arm.
Realising that Bermen, coming down behind him, was likely standing on his fingers, Eloi overcame the urge to release his left hand, and gave a swift punch above it.
The punch connected with something that felt like leather.

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As he lowered himself carefully down the ladder, he saw Eloi, but ten feet below, disappearing into the darkness.
"Curses," he thought, immediately regretting his lack of foresight that caused him not to have thought of a light source. "I'll light one up when I reach the ground!"
From above, the others were discussing something.
And then it was completely dark and silent.
The complete lack of perspective made Bermen feel totally nauseous, if it were not for the feel of the ladder under his hands and feet he was sure that he would have no idea even which way was up!
"Still," he reckoned, "Eloi must be below!"
So he continued on down into the dark silence.
About another ten feet down, and he felt something soft squirm away from him on the rung of the ladder under his leading foot. As he brought his other foot onto that rung, something punched him lightly on the ankle, then something wrapped itself around his ankle and tried to pull it off the ladder.
The nausea Bermen felt brought an acrid taste to the back of his throat when his heart jumped into his mouth. With an involuntary shudder he kicked his leg convulsively trying to free the grip of whatever had a hold of him.
As he continued to try to wriggle free, sweat beginning to break out on his forehead, he called almost frantically back up the ladder. "Bring a light quickly, something's got a hold of me..." Then, turning back to look down, "Eloi, something's attacking me" he hissed.
But as Bermen yelled, the beads of sweat turned to torrents, as he realised there was no sound coming from his mouth. His throat hurt from his frantic yell, but the silence persisted.
With a kick, whatever was holding his leg let go, but Bermen felt the ladder shake slightly, as though there was still something down below him.
A moment that seemed like an eternity passed, and again Bermen felt something brush against his boot again, below, in the darkness and suffocating silence...

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There was no sound from within - not of fighting, or shouting, or anything.
After a minute or so, Aranon walked over to the trap door and peered into the darkness. It was complete, not a shimmer of light shining up, and there were no sounds whatsoever from below.
Bermen and Eloi had quite simply disappeared into the darkness below...
Jean-Paul replied to Sholin.
"Our first priority is the pursuit of Lominstrall and the safety of Akhan. The Drow is of little concern. As for the prisoner, if he is capable of walking then of course he should come with us, if not then alas I do hope the pursuing guards," he said pointing to the other room where the pounding was coming from, "Will show him mercy."
Jean-Paul walked over to Aranon.
"Any response yet from our eager friends?"
"Nothing as yet," Aranon declared with a worried look upon his face.
He peered thoughtfully down into the trap door and seemed very concerned at something below.
With a characteristic crack of the knuckles that told the others he was about to cast a spell, Aranon leaned over the trap door and began to recite the words of some rambling prayer.
Sholin looked back at the outer room, where the sound of the pounding grew louder, and there seemed to be a splintering of wood now. He whispered as if to avoid spoiling Aranon's intense concentration.
"It is only that if they free that Drow and she awakes, she may give us more trouble than the rest of them put together!"

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Suddenly, Bermen, if indeed it was Bermen, kicked out, dislodging Eloi's grip from his ankle and sending him swinging to the side like a barn door. In the pitch blackness and utter silence, it took a disoriented Eloi a few seconds to recover his balance and find catch hold of the shaking ladder again.
Eloi reached up into the darkness, feeling around for the leather he had gripped earlier. He shouted again, vainly hoping that someone above would hear him. he tightly gripped the rungs of the ladder entwining his arms and legs into it in order to make it more difficult for him to be dislodged. He hoped whoever was coming down would realise their folly and that someone would get some light down here quickly.
Eloi's hand brushed past something leathery, but in the darkness and silence he felt off-balance and had to immediately grab hold of the ladder again. A sweat broke out on his brow and he screamed at the top of his voice.
A silent scream!
With the total disorientation mounting Bermen realised he was definitely not going further down so he pulled himself up the rungs of the ladder.
"This is some sort of weird spell. Time for Aranon and Mord to do their stuff," he thought.
As he moved back up he tried shouting to the others occasionally, hoping to hear the return of his voice.

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Jean-Paul retorted, "I think we should make a quick exit, I don't particularly care what happens to the Drow, but I certainly don't want to be here when the guards appear. Do we have Akhan secured, so that we can make our descent down the trapdoor? If, so then I suggest we make haste."
Jean-Paul poised himself at the trapdoor for his descent.
"I see your point, Jean-Paul," Tumbry replied, crouching over the unconscious Akhan. "Do you have a rope with which to make a harness, for lowering him?"
Jean-Paul leaned over and rummaged in Akhan's backpack, where he found a thin, but extremely strong, silk rope.
"Thought a man of his dubious nature would have such a thing," he declared, evidently pleased with his assumption.
As Aranon finished his spell, Tumbry and Jean-Paul began to truss up Akhan as safely as their dubious rope skills could manage.

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Mordekei wandered away from the others, discretely drawing his dagger as he peered around the door into the main hall. He could see the main doors beginning to splinter, and reckoned, though he knew little about doors, that they would be through in but a few minutes.
Looking over to the stairs where the Drow lay beside the injured prisoner, Mordekei could not tell at this distance whether she was breathing or not. If she was, though murder was not in his heart, he knew that he must stop it.
He saw the prisoner stir, so was sure he still lived.
As the men outside pounded on the door, the first crack appeared on the crossbar, and Mordekei wondered whether it would give before the door itself.
Sholin appeared beside the mage, who swiftly hid the dagger to the other side, as though guilty of his intentions.
"How do we fare for time, Mordekei?"
"I think we have but minutes.....keep back from the door"
With that, Mordekei began to turn his hands in strange sigils and utter the arcane words of power that would cast his spell.

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As Bermen climbed up, or at least what he thought was up, there was noise from below - a horrendous din of yelling and screaming!
He could pick out Eloi, shouting for Aranon or Mordekei to send down some light. But above this there was a terrifying, manic, endless gibbering, an insane prattle, and screaming in some unknown language of some terrified soul in absolute torment. This spurred Bermen to climb upwards and he felt the colour drain out of his face at the horror of the noise.
Suddenly, he was out of the darkness. As his head and shoulders came above it, Bermen could clearly see it was some sort of magical darkness, as there was a dividing line between the pitch black and the half-light from above.
Aranon, Jean-Paul, Tumbry and Hamman all peered down from the trapdoor above.
"Aranon - we need some light!" Bermen yelled to them.
As he stood momentarily, Bermen realised the ladder was shaking and someone, or something, was coming up from below!

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