Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 23 - Lominstrall's Plan

Aranon wakened first the next morning, Sholin having maintained guard to allow the priest his sleep. It was before dawn, and as he set about praying, he noticed a third person in the great hall, asleep by the fire. A quick check revealed it was Bermen.
"I will catch a few hours sleep now," Sholin said. "Just keep an ear out for any murderous bandits or whatever."
As Aranon completed his prayers, the first light of morning crept in through the shattered doors to the circular keep. Bermen and Sholin were fast asleep.

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

Eloi turned to Akhan.
"We should investigate the shouting. Send Jean-Paul, Mordekei and Tumbry to find out the source of the noises from the road. Hamman and ourselves will investigate the source of the noise from the woodland as our night vision and thieving skills will give us an advantage. Tell Mordy to have a continual light spell ready if he has one."
Jean-Paul waited behind the others waiting for a response, nervously drawing his sword, painfully aware of every clunk and rattle his armour made as he moved. He hunted in his backpack for his lantern and readied it to be lit.
Akhan cursed under his breath. Thinking about two possible sources of danger at once was going to hurt his head - he just knew .
As Eloi quickly outlined his plan he replied, "Yeah OK Baron, but didn't you hear that 'Who goes there' challenge? I doubt the forces of darkness are going to go round advertising themselves like that. Then again...!"
Akhan looked at the others, now peering about them in the gloom, and said quietly, "We've no way of knowing if that's Fimuth's goons or forces loyal to the King or just some nosy sod. Eloi and I will see what all the crashing around in the woods here is all about and then rejoin you all. Mordekei, get your familiar to have a look and see who or what issued that challenge. Don't advertise your presence but remember to strike some sort of light if you get jumped on. Jean-Paul, if they're genuine then you try and convince them who we are: it'll sound more plausible coming from a paladin."
Akhan quickly wrapped his sword in his cloak hoping to disguise the glow and moved silently towards where the rustling noises had come from. He motioned Eloi to move parallel to him separated by about twelve feet.
"I don't know, lads, I think its going to be a big buggery trap." Mordekei said. "Or how do we know the bastards aren't circling round us right now? Hmm?"
He looked nervously around.
"We could get separated far too easily in there, and those of us that don't have magical light would be scunnered."
He smiled briefly.
"I could just..."
Mordekei wiggled his fingers suggestively towards the darkness.
Akhan looked at Mordekei and shrugged.
"Ah bugger it, maybe you're right Mord. What do you think Eloi?"
"I don't want to take any chances," Eloi replied. "Remember, we are not just against the Hordes here. We cannot trust Fimuth's men, for they may be in league with him. Until we are aware of anyone's intentions we must treat them with care. I would much rather know who is out there now than they know who we are."
He turned to Mordekei.
"Do you have a continual light spell, a little light on the proceedings might just help us here. It will not only let us see clearly what is going on, but its going to give whoever is out there a nasty shock."
He turned to the others and whispered, "So do we recce the woods or just plough in continual light blazing?"
Jean-Paul added, "Whatever we do gentlemen we'd better be quick or we shall lose any advantage that we might have. Remember it is the King's life at stake here. Anything else is secondary, including our own lives."
Akhan brandished his sword in the air in frustration and somehow he imagined the hollow laughter of some shadowy god echoing in the back of his mind.
"As I said, bugger it. Mordekei, turn on the light and let's see what's out there"
The thief moved back to the side of his horse in preparation for what they might be about to see.
Shrugging, Mord held a finger up to the air, testing the wind direction.
He turned and smiled briefly at the others.
"Stand back!"
As Mordekei finished casting his spell, a deep green cloud appeared ahead, but a few feet from Eloi who was lurking by the edge of the woods, about to enter.
"Feck!" the half-orc yelled as he jumped back in surprise, almost walking right into it.
The billowing cloud slowly began moving away from them, rolling along the road into the woods, reaching right across the road and into the forest on both sides.
As they stood momentarily watching, there was a shout from the other side, further into the woods. Then a few more shouts, and more, which sounded like battle cries.
Suddenly, the treetops and sky ahead, the only thing they could see above the cloud, lit up with a long flash and a searing crackle, and men screamed.
Almost automatically Akhan turned to Eloi and asked, "Is that your fart?"
Eloi turned to Akhan with a wry grin and answered, "Nope, my farts are much more noxious. Akhan. I think Mordy just cast that cloud."
Hearing the fireworks show up ahead, Akhan said worriedly, "Hell's teeth, that's got to be something to do with the King! Mordekei, do you recognise this kind of smoke? If it's not toxic then we have to head for the fight."
He paced nervously back and forth for a second or two.
"If it's not toxic but we can't see our way through then I've got a suggestion. I've had a Potion of Flying stashed away for a couple of years now but it might be time to break it out. I could fly along at a walking pace above this cloud and keep hold of one end of a rope while I lead the rest of you along with the other end descending to the ground."
"Mordy I hope that cloud had something to do with you, if not, we might be in big trouble," Eloi said.
Jean-Paul, somewhat concerned ,turned to Mordekei.
"If that cloud belongs to you, what sort of effect does it have? Remember, our sovereign, the King, may be up ahead. We don't want to kill him by our own hands. We should now find out what is going on up ahead, I guess we may have the advantage."
Eloi with his flail drawn and Jean-Paul with his sword drawn, started to move carefully along the road towards the cloud. Eloi turned and motioned for the others to follow.
Mordekei struck his forehead in self-retribution.
"I should have warned you, but I feared we were about to be attacked. Basically, I couldn't give a hoot for the King if it means I die in this place, so its me first as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, anyone guarding him should be strong enough to withstand the poisonous effects of the cloud. I can fly over the cloud too, can anyone else?"
Jean-Paul stared at Mordekei with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"I cannot believe what you have just said. As loyal servants to the crown we should be willing to put our lives on the line to save the king. If these are your true feeling then why are you here?"
He turned his back on Mordekei and faced the cloud with an air of expectation on his face. Whatever was approaching would feel the sting of his sword.
"What's a little regicide between friends anyway?!" Tumbry said, a sarcastic look on his face, made to seem somewhat demonic by the light of Akhan's sword.
Eloi turned to the others looking very distressed.
"I am feeling very bad about all of this! There is something very nasty out there. I fear perhaps another demon has been summoned to murder the king. As for your comments Mordekei, I am sure the King and Thoggin would be interested in your views. As far as I am concerned my life won't be worth living if the King is harmed and I will endeavour by whatever means to ensure that does not happen."
He turned towards the cloud and moaned.
"Well, Mordekei, it seems that you have cut out our only route to the King, I certainly don't have wings and whilst I do not question Hamman's skills in hand to hand combat you may have a little trouble. Anyways, I am not going near that cloud and I think whatever is in the cloud is coming this way and is pretty pissed off. I suggest we make preparations for its attack."
"I can fly over it too," Hamman answered. "But what of the cloud? We'd best beware of it ourselves!"
Akhan seemed to be in a world of his own, facing towards the billowing magical cloud, which was moving away from them. Through the woods his slightly pointed ears could hear men shouting.
"... the flank, guard the..."
"... over here..."
"... to me, men, to me..."
Suddenly there was a moment's silence.
"Noooo!"
"What the..."
A roaring whoosh and a rasping growl came through the still night, and in unison, Akhan heard a multitude of men cry out in pain.
Suddenly, from the other side, the others heard a strange growl, muffled by the woods but still sufficiently loud to imply a very loud creature. Almost immediately after the strange, loud growl, the smell that had first stopped Eloi, which he could only describe as 'darkness', flooded over him again, but this time stronger and more unpleasant.
Akhan quickly knelt and stared intensely into Ash's eyes.
"Stay with Jean-Paul, Ash. Help him out if you can."
The thief hoped that the dog would understand but said to the knight, "Jean-Paul, look after Ash!"
By now there was a bit of a wild look on Akhan's face and the grin he often wore at the start of any dangerous venture had appeared. He rooted around in his belongings and triumphantly brought out the potion he had been looking for.
"Cheers, ladies!" he said and swallowed the whole potion in a oner, flinging the bottle over his left shoulder.
"Anyone feeling suicidal enough can follow me," he grinned. "I'll try and let you know what's going on if I can. If I don't get frazzled that is!"
The words faded out as he rose from the ground and began to pick up speed in the direction of the fighting; and the dying.
As he watched Akhan go, Mordekei half-wished he had allowed Grym to come so he could know what on Oerth was going on.

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

A sense of exhilaration overtook Akhan as he lifted into the air, his delight at the freedom of flight only being dismissed at the seriousness of his task. Suppressing the desire to do loops and rolls, he headed over the top of the cloud, noticing that Hamman, sword in hand, had also taken off from the ground behind him.
About fifty yards further along the road, Akhan saw the ongoing fight. In the centre of the road lay several dead horses and men, scattered about a fine carriage, whose horses were also dead. A handful of men, swords in hand, were scattered from the rear of the carriage to its south, stumbling along the road, tripping and falling as though they were unable to see.
To the left of the carriage, Akhan immediately recognised the figure he had seen the previous night - Lominstrall. The mage was beginning to cast a spell, looking in the direction of the remaining men. Akhan doubted that he had seen him, or the noxious cloud that was headed his way.
Speeding through the air, Akhan surveyed the scene and was torn between going to help the fleeing figures, whom he hoped included the King, and sneaking up on Lominstrall. The decision wasn't long in coming though as Akhan realised that the ex-Chamberlain was the real threat.
"No point in joining that group and standing in line for whatever that traitorous bastard throws at us."
Taking a quick glance at the advance of the smelly smog he attempted to gauge the speed of its advance on Lominstrall. A thievish back-stab on him would be good so long as he didn't get involved in hand to hand stuff. It wouldn't do to get enveloped by the cloud if he could possibly avoid it.
Time was running out for consideration though as Akhan had not slowed down since he spotted the traitor. The overriding memory present in Akhan's head was of the last time they met and the bugger disappearing before he could stick him with Kagnstir. He wouldn't give him the chance for that option again.
Akhan sketched the curve of his descent in his mind's eye, unconsciously drawing on the experience of his avian capers in Torrisz Keep. He hoped to surprise Lominstrall and especially catch him unawares from behind but speed was the essence. Getting an attack in before the spell was cast!
Akhan held his breath as he approached, ludicrously convinced that he'd be quieter in approach.
"Right, get a load of this," he thought to himself glancing at Kagnstir's icy cold point.
Smoothly, silently, Akhan floated down, in front of the slowly moving cloud, keeping his feet from the ground to maintain the silence. Lominstrall had casually stepped onto the road, and without any effort, raised his hand and took down another three of the helpless, stumbling soldiers with a stream of magic missiles.
Akhan positioned himself close behind Lominstrall, and floated over behind him, Kagnstir drawn. As he was about ten or so feet away, Lominstrall glanced at the ground, at his own shadow surrounded by the bluish glow from Akhan's sword.
Kagnstir!
Lominstrall spun around as Akhan hovered indecisively in the air.
As Akhan took a swipe, Lominstrall turned again to run back into the cover of the woods on the left of the road, as Kagnstir caught him across the back, biting deeply into the mage's flesh. There was a cracking noise from behind, then a thud in a tree to the left of Lominstrall. Quickly glancing back, Akhan could see Hamman, hovering above the cloud, sword in his left hand, smoking pistol in his right.
"Does that fucker ever hit anything?" he wondered with a hint of worry.
Lominstrall ran unconcerned into the woods, passing from vision, but sounding like a Hollyphant crashing through the undergrowth.
Suddenly there was a heaving noise from behind, like air being drawn through massive bellows. The hackles on the back of Akhan's neck raised.
As he turned, he heard Hamman shout a warning, and the last thing he saw was a pair of large grey eyes staring at him from within the woods to the west.
A blackness overcame him, a cold, twisting darkness, almost tangible like an
endless freezing bolt of black Drow silk, covering him, drawing the heat from his body, sapping his energy.
At first Akhan thought he had been rendered unconscious, but then the pain told him otherwise. He was, as far as he could tell, still standing on the road, but he could not see the hand in front of his face. Worse than that, Akhan felt as though he had had the life sucked from his very veins, and was shaking and chittering worse than the time he had wakened from a night out in Rel Mord to find that his bed had been the Duntide River.
He was blind!
"Akhan!"
It was Hamman's voice, shouting, somewhat panicked.
"Akhan, get away from there, its a dragon! A ..."
Hamman's voice ended abruptly, and there was a crashing thud to Akhan's right, more like a falling pillar of stone than a body.
Akhan could still hear that thing with the grey eyes, breathing within the forest, lurking, waiting...

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

As Bermen's tired eyes flickered open the amazing smell of fine Keoish sausages flooded into his nostrils. The light from outside was weak, and he reckoned it must only be minutes past daybreak.
Following their fine scent, he found Aranon and Sholin in the kitchen, cooking up a feast at Lominstrall's expense. Aranon turned to him, frying pan in hand.
"Ahhh, the sleeper awakens. Good sleep? Anything happen much with the Drow?"
Bermen disliked the way Aranon spat the last word, but considering the months he had spent fighting them he forgave this show of emotion. A sense of foreboding and urgency overcame Bermen as he recalled what the Drow had told him.
The ranger started rummaging purposefully amongst the food in the kitchen. He collected some sausages and luckily, a stash of eggs. The bread did not seem to be too old and tough so he decided to make himself a fry-up sandwich.
Already his mouth was salivating at the prospect.
As he made his breakfast along with the other two Bermen gave them a brief account of what the Drow had told him of the plot to kill the King.
"Aranon, when I arrived back last night, Sholin here told me that Akhan says that Fimuth has betrayed the King. This makes what I have to tell you all the more plausible as the Drow also named Fimuth as traitor. First she revealed that Lominstrall has travelled back to make a further attempt on the life of the King. Somehow he has gained the ability to summon something called a Shadow Dragon - not a mere flesh and bone dragon."
Finishing his fried ingredients he crammed them between a couple of bits of bread and spent the next thirty seconds munching away.
"Lawmihstawl," he coughed, "Lominstrall will use this Shadow Dragon to draw off the King's bodyguard. While they are engaging the beast, Shabass T'Lan will use the distraction to assassinate the King. After this they plan to sail south down the Sheldomar to join Fimuth."
Bermen applied himself to the remainder of his breakfast and then continued.
"As for the treacherous Count Fimuth, it appears that he once paid off the Scarlet Brotherhood when they were attempting to kill him. His expenditure on the colony of Fim-Sular left him near bankrupt and then the Brotherhood bought up his debt. Then it was simply a matter of him doing as they asked. The attempt on his life at Axewood was a warning although it fooled us at the time into thinking him loyal I believe. But the last thing the Drow woman told me was that it was Fimuth who was induced to steal Zarn Varnt's Demonomicon and summon the demon to kill the King."
He sighed and looked at the other two sitting in front of him.
"So Aranon, you must take us back to Niole Dra now. We cannot waste any time in returning to the King's side and warning everyone we can lay our hands on. Now that we've had some food and sleep I feel like I could really enjoy getting stuck into this parcel of turncoats."
Sholin sat agog as Bermen finished his briefing. Standing up he grabbed his spear and the rest of his meagre possessions.
"I think Bermen perhaps the meaning of the word 'urgency' should be explained to you at a later date. Come on, we must go now, Shabass T'Lan may succeed and escape!"
Aranon looked quietly into the fire for a moment, and then slowly shook his head.
"It is hard to believe. I have known Fimuth for many, many years and I never for one moment thought that he would stoop so low. I'm not sure if I trust this view....."
Looking back up, he appeared to snap out of his thoughts.
"Nevertheless, his Majesty is in danger, there is little doubt of that, and we must return post haste."
Aranon polished off the remaining food, and gathered his possessions.
"Lets get rocking and rolling gentlemen, its going to be a long day. My spell will return us to Niole Dra, but only to the small shrine to our Lord there. We still have to get to the King. I propose we try to ignore the Dragon. Let us concentrate on this blasted Shabass T'Lan - and if I get him he will be one dead assassin."
Bermen grabbed his stuff and then went to stand by Sholin and Aranon waiting for him to begin his prayer to take them into action.
"OK, Aranon, let's go!"
As the trio stood together, Aranon began his prayer.
With a slight blurring, the hall of Torrisz Keep faded out, to be replaced by a small one-room building with stone walls. They were facing the image of Olidamarra next to the altar. Bermen couldn't help but feel he had seen that face somewhere before, but dismissed the thought as nonsensical.
They turned as they heard a gasp behind, seeing an acolyte standing within the shrine behind them, rising from his knees where he had been praying. The shrine was sparse, pretty much as Aranon remembered it. It was in the Keisling area of Niole Dra, near to the taverns that serviced the bier-swilling students of the Royal University, with whom Aranon's god found much favour. Moments later the many temples about that Quarter rang out seven bells.
"We have to get hold of someone who knows where the King is just now. Where's our best bet Aranon?" Remembering where he was standing, Bermen felt obliged to offer a respectful bow to the image of Olidamarra. After all, it seemed only fair to the ranger after the distance that Aranon's god had just enabled them to travel. He nodded quickly and as he turned away an idea struck him.
"Aranon, what about that Lareng character that Berran of Greyhawk took us to! Unless you know of anyone else in Niole Dra who'd be able to tell us the King's whereabouts. He might be able to provide us with good horses if we have to travel on from here."
Bermen looked expectantly at the High Priest as he knew Aranon moved in circles of the great and confidently expected that he was sure to know the right person to see.
"I can think of no-one better," Aranon said.
The acolyte appeared bemused and astounded, apparently recognising Lord Aranon, but unable to find words to greet him.
Quickly they sped through the streets of Niole Dra, its people only just awakening to greet the new day. It took a good ten minutes to reach Lareng's abode, and Bermen started pounding on the door with a sense of urgency.
Soon enough, Bermen heard a voice on the other side, decidedly unhappy, and after a few moments and the turning of numerous locks on the huge fortified door, it opened, revealing a tired-looking Lareng, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"By the Gods man, what has happened, why the urgency?" he cried.
Bermen clutched Lareng's forearm in his vice-like grip and hurried him back into the house.
In a low, urgent voice he said to him, "Friend Lareng, you must help us now. We have plumbed the full depth of the treachery surrounding the King! Lominstrall has shown himself as a traitor as I'm sure you already suspected from his disappearance. But from two sources we have discovered that Count Fimuth Celanil has betrayed the King also under blackmail from the Scarlet Brotherhood."
"Even as we speak, Lominstrall is on his way to attack the King. He has found a way to summon a Shadow Dragon and means to use this to draw off the King's bodyguard leaving him vulnerable to attack from the Brotherhood assassin Shabass T'Lan. They mean to join the Count after their attack."
The ranger placed his hands on Lareng's shoulders and stared into his eyes hoping his gaze would drive the sleep away.
"Lareng. Where is the King now? We must reach him, either to warn him of the attack or to defend him when it comes. If he's some distance from here then we must have fast horses too."
Bermen held his breath, hoping Lareng would say that the King was safe in the Palace. But he didn't really have much hope of that.
Lareng only seemed mildly surprised by the news, Bermen got the impression that he had seen enough shocking events to nullify the effect of this piece of treachery. He stroked an imaginary chin-beard as he walked them into the lounge, thinking deeply.
"I'm not sure if you know, but the Dwarven Mareschal, Darrak Thurnsyte, was murdered in the Lortmil mountains a few days ago. I'm pretty sure the King will be attending his funeral, so he would either be on his way directly there from Axewood, or returning to Niole Dra before setting off. I'd put my money on Niole Dra, he's likely to gather an entourage before setting off."
Lareng remained standing in the lounge, and seemed to sense Bermen's anxiety.
"If there's just the three of you, you can take my horses, but I'll need them back."
Aranon nodded at his request.
"We may need fast travel if we are to save His Royal Majesty!" he said.
Lareng ran upstairs, returning a few minutes later, fully clothed.
"A Shadow Dragon is useless during the day, so you should have some leeway there. Unless, of course, they have already attacked."
He led the trio from his home, locking the massive door before leading back down the street they had come along. The streets of the Tarskling area were now extremely busy, despite it being but half an hour from dawn. He took them to a tall, long building, which they gathered was a stable, and they entered, Lareng speaking quickly to the owner.
But a minute later, a stableboy led out three well-groomed riding ponies, who seemed to Bermen to be of reasonable build.
As he handed them the rains, Lareng updated them more.
"The would-be assassin who attacked Fimuth, a mage called Sherrigo - he has been killed by another Mareschal, Ollf Veshper. There is little to confirm that he was anything to do with the Brotherhood, but if what you say is true, your Fimuth might have been struggling with his conscience over this deed."
The three adventurers mounted and, with little by way of goodbyes, rode off.

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

Helpless, the party stood rooted to the spot on the other side of the cloud, and watched Hamman drop from the sky.
"Damn this!" Tumbry cried, as he started to cast a spell, then raised from the ground, flying over the cloud towards the others.
Again, after the bellowing noise, the smell of 'darkness' flooded Eloi's nostrils, although this time it was stronger.
Eloi turned to Jean-Paul and Mordekei
"We must help the others! We should skirt round the perimeter of the cloud as quickly as possible."
With a wave he quickly moved around the perimeter of the cloud heading towards the other side. Jean-Paul looked at Mordekei with a quizzical look, shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
"He humbles us all with his bravery. Shall we go?"
Without waiting for Mordekei's response Jean-Paul pointed his sword in front of him and followed Eloi.
Eloi was making ground as Jean-Paul, the undeniable Ash walking at his heel, entered the east side of the woods, leaving Mordekei standing on his own. Within seconds, Ash had gone from his usual, exuberant but controlled, self, to a whirling mass of barking fur. Settling, he leapt repeatedly into the air, barking wildly at the sky towards the cloud, whimpering in between vicious yelps.
Eloi, creeping ahead, was sure that no-one ahead could have missed their approach now.

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

Akhan's usual sang-froid deserted him and along with the cold fear in the pit of his stomach there was a definite hint of panic. The blindness unnerved him more perhaps than it would have done previously when he hadn't been used to the Eye's extra abilities for seeing in the dark.
Without waiting to consider where he was going Akhan bounded into the air. As he rose, he tried to calm his mounting fear by reasoning that this at least would stop him being wrapped in the poisonous smoke. The unspoken thought about the duration of the potion lurked at the back of his mind however. His wits started to recover themselves with the action and Akhan started to increase the forward motion hoping to distance himself from the malevolent pair of eyes he had seen staring at him from the woods.
Considerations of the potion must have sparked an idea though and Akhan remembered his last remaining little bottle of liquid magic. He rummaged blindly through his belongings hunting for the bottle's familiar shape. There! A Potion of Extra-Healing. Greedily he popped the stopper and guzzled it down.
"How the bloody Hell do I get down from here?" he thought forlornly. "How do I find the others?"
"Ash!" he shouted out loud.
The war dog wouldn't let his friend down. He'd bark. He'd reply!
"Ash!" Akhan began to call for his shaggy companion.
Akhan felt sick without any bearings as to where he was. He was only too aware that up there, if Hamman was right and there actually was a dragon about, he was perhaps now even more vulnerable to attack, never mind the thought of Lominstrall's magical abilities.
Fear gripped him now as he realised that Hamman had not made any more comment since being cut off so abruptly, and he called on Ash with ever more urgency.
Like a lifeline to a drowning man, the bass tones of Ash's bark flooded up to him from below and to the right, like a Harpy's voice to the stranded Akhan.
Suddenly Akhan became aware of the presence of another nearby. His skin crawled in anticipation as he could not get a fix on whoever, or whatever, it was!
"Akhan, what is wrong, what has happened?"
It was Tumbry's voice. Akhan breathed again, suddenly realising he had been holding his breath for some time now.
"Tumbry, there's something out there!" Akhan hissed. "Lominstrall was out there by a carriage attacking some soldiers and when I jumped him he ran off. Then something with great grey eyes that was hiding in the woods behind me... attacked me somehow. I can't see! It sort of sucked the life out of me and now I'm blind. The last thing I heard Hamman shout was that it was a dragon!"
Akhan gulped some more air convulsively and started to feel more confident with the anxious Ash's wet nose beneath his hand.
"Tumbry, where are the others? I'm afraid whatever kind of dragon it was in the woods may have got Hamman. We've got to try and help him. He could be wandering around like I was. Maybe Jean-Paul or Mordekei know what's happened to me."
He stretched out his hand to the bard saying, "Here, you'll need to keep hold of me if we're going to get anywhere.

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

Bermen looked round at the rest and said, "We'll travel back to Axewood then and hope we meet the King before he's attacked? I'll take the lead: I'm going to keep an eye on the tracks just ahead of us as we ride. If there's been a scuffle then I want to be able for us to stop before we mess up the tracks. It could be that we might have to follow some of them and I want to be able to pick out what might have happened and who went where. But we'll need someone up front with me to look out ahead for any possible ambush. Sholin? Fancy riding point with me?"
Sholin replied, "Is there really much point in splitting up then? It would just mean that Aranon was twenty yards behind us. Best stick together, avoid confusion. Perhaps you could take the fore in case you see anything unusual."
After agreeing the party's riding order, Bermen moved the pony briskly out into the street and began to force his way along towards the gate leading out of Niole Dra towards Axewood.
"This is getting to be a damn familiar road.," he thought.

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

As he finished speaking, Akhan sensed the slightest swirling before, in his fearful world of darkness, a shocking coldness swept about him. In an instant he was freezing cold from head to toe, his bared face pelted by hard stone-like objects that stung his very skin.
"A m-m-magical snows-s-storm!" Tumbry stammered, his voice raised to break through the howling, cutting winds.
As the cold ended, Akhan still shivering, Tumbry cried out, presumably to the others.
"There! There he is! Jean-Paul, Eloi, Lominstrall is a hundred yards ahead of you on the left side of the road, in the woods!"
Eloi and Jean-Paul looked at each other and gave a knowing nod. They started to run towards the location that Tumbry had given them with flail and sword drawn respectively. They headed straight in the direction that Tumbry had told them, skirting around the cloud. Eloi scanned the woodland looking for - they had a score to settle and Eloi was in a boinking mood.
As he stepped onto the road, he was taken aback by the carnage that lay before him.
Scattered about a carriage of most regal appearance were over a dozen dead and dying soldiers, Fimuth's Palace guards from their uniforms. The carriage doors lay open, and as he jogged forward, keeping an eye on the woods, he glanced into the carriage, seeing two dead Royal Guardsmen sprawled there, but no King.
He glanced back as he heard Jean-Paul clutter onto the road, and above the ever-looming cloud he saw Akhan and Tumbry floating in the air, the light from Akhan's sword like a beacon.
"Over there, Eloi!" Tumbry shouted, pointing ahead and to Eloi's left. "He's casting a spell!"
Eloi looked into the woods, and caught a glimpse of a person, about twenty yards into the woods, partly obscured by trees.
Eloi turned and shouted to Jean-Paul and Mordekei "Quick follow me!"
He then turned and with flail ready he ran towards the figure in the woods.
"Lominstrall will pay dearly for his treachery," he thought.
Jean-Paul struggled to keep up with Eloi and paused to catch breath, looking upon the carnage of the king's carriage. He turned, catching Eloi's words and followed his friend into the woods with sword ready.
Mord glanced at the bodies briefly, before the shout got his attention.
Squinting into the trees, he could just make out the figure.
"The King damnit, the King...where is he? I dare not use a spell on that man until I know if the king is with him!"
Surmising that Lominstrall might be thinking of casting a spell at numero uno, Mordekei quickly began moving sideways, out towards the fringes of the massacre but still keeping reasonably close to the others.

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

As Eloi ran towards Lominstrall, the mage finished casting his spell.
Momentarily, Eloi felt an overwhelming urge to hunt down a juicy piece of lettuce, but this soon passed. From behind, Eloi still heard Jean-Paul, close-by, lumbering through the undergrowth. Rounding a large oak tree, he ran at Lominstrall, flail flying, noticing that the mage was casting another spell.
The mage continued his gestures and incantations as Eloi approached and lined him up for the strike. As he swung back, the mage shimmered, then disappeared, and Eloi found himself off-balance as his mighty swing passed through thin air.
As he recovered his balance, Jean-Paul ran up with a 'What happened?' look on his face.

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

Making sure to keep ahead of the cloud, which was now heading away from him and the others, Mordekei crossed behind the King's carriage, using it for cover between himself and the Chamberlain. Something occurred to him as he passed, and he stuck his head fully inside to ensure that those fools had been right, since neither had properly checked the carriage.
Contented that the King was not within, he turned back to proceed down the right (west) edge of the road, hearing the sounds of the never-delicate Jean-Paul crashing through the undergrowth on the other side.
As he turned he froze.
First he spotted the shattered trees and branches, crushed bushes level, with this carriage. Then he noticed the dull grey eyes blink from within the darkness!
From the shadow, a lunging shape formed, swamping towards him, its body seemingly made up of the very shadows it leapt from.
The massive Wyrm's maw flew at Mordekei's head, and it was only as he came to his senses in the last instant that he dodged its row upon row of snapping teeth. As he ducked and dodged, he moved straight into the path of one mighty claw and then the other.

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

Jean-Paul looked at Eloi, perplexed.
"Where did Lominstrall go to?"
Eloi still somewhat dizzy from his fall looked at his friend and replied.
"Dunno, he just sort of disappeared in thin air!"
Jean-Paul gestured back to the road.
"Best get back and help the others."
He turned and started to head back to the road.
Eloi shouted, "Its only fucking Mordekei. Anyways, he might get a better shag of a big dragon rather than that poofy small one he's always hanging about with."
Eloi shrugged his shoulders when his joke evoked no response and quickly scuttled after Jean-Paul taking one last final long look at the spot Lominstrall had been standing.
"I'll stick the bastard yet," he thought.

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

"I will guide you down my..."
Tumbry stopped dead in mid-sentence, and in the instant of silence, Akhan could only hear the crashing of undergrowth from below.
"Mordekei!" he heard Tumbry scream out. "The Dragon has Mordekei!"
Akhan felt Tumbry's grip leave him, heard his words trailing away.
"I must help him Akhan..."
Akhan felt very isolated, hovering there on his own.
Akhan was beginning to get over his initial fright at being blinded by the dragon and being abandoned by Tumbry brought back all his old acerbity.
"Bugger that bloody mage," he thought to himself. "What am I supposed to do up here? Take a piss downwind and hope it goes in the dragon's eye?"
"Ah well, I'm the proverbial sitting duck up here. Let's see if I can't get back down." Akhan sheathed Kagnstir realising that he was also the proverbial Sitting Duck from the Illuminations of the Pool of Black.
Taking out his dagger from the top of his boot he held it between finger and thumb to try and gauge the precise direction of `down'.
Then, adopting a `laugh-at-me-and-I'll-spit-in-your-eye' expression he descended trying to listen out for the sound of the wind in any branches which just might happen to be directly underneath him.
"Don't want to be picking splinters out of the Old Crack of Doom, do we?"
As he floated slowly down, the air grew fouler, and it was only as he began to choke that he recalled Mordekei's noxious cloud!
Suppressing a sudden urge to vomit, he sped upwards, back to his previous position, wishing that he were indeed ensconced comfortably within one of Eloi's botty coughs. Once he felt he had gone far enough he took a deep breath, feeling the welcome rush of pure air into his troubled lungs. With a final cough, he reminded himself to 'thank' Mordekei for his troubles next time they met!
Akhan was now getting thoroughly fed up with hanging around and decided that he'd have to get away from the cloud of he was going to get back to earth. He paused briefly to try and feel which way the wind was blowing and then moved off into it.
"At least if I go into the eye of the wind for a minute I can try and descend again..."
The wind was blowing from behind Akhan, and so he glided slowly down in front of himself - not too far, and very cautiously as he did not want to land in the forest. Checking for any hint of noxious vapours as he went, he soon reached the ground, landing on the firmness of the road.

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

"Gods almighty!" he cursed, reeling from the Wyrm's blows.
Fumbling at his belt, struggled to draw his wand, using all his strength and skill to bear the thing to bear and shout the command word. As Mordekei reached for the wand, using every trick Gastanykk had taught him to maintain his composure, the dragon reared back ready to pounce.
Suddenly there was a greyish blur, and a snarling, growling missile of teeth and claws flew through the air, striking the monster unexpectedly on its left side.
Ash!
The dragon swiped the dog away with one claw, and as Ash hurled through the air, yelping, Mordekei pulled the wand clear. He had hardly started the first syllable of the command word before the dragon was upon him.
Jean-Paul then Eloi ran out onto the road about ten yards away, and were powerless to help as first its other claw struck him, then its stinking maw was about him, biting deep into his.
As the beast exhaled, a strange smell filled Mordekei's nostrils, a smell he could only describe as ... darkness!
Mordekei finally uttered the command word. Nothing happened.
Suddenly the very trees and bushes about them started twisting and writhing, pulling at both mage and dragon, attempting to tie them to the woodland floor. With a mighty wrench, showing a strength he never knew he had, Mordekei, who was half within the mass of seething plants and half on the road, pulled free, stumbling backwards until he was stopped, still upright, by the King's carriage.
The branches of the trees, the very grass beneath its feet, the leaves upon the branches twisted and slithered until the dragon was covered from head to toe by a mass of plants, held fast and firm by their combined strength.
Ash was regaining his feet, slightly stunned looking, injured but looking well considering the blow he received. Glancing up to his right, Mordekei saw Tumbry hovering about ten feet from the ground, a broad grin across his face.
Jean-Paul shouted to Mordekei.
"The King? Is he still in his carriage?"
Jean-Paul scanned the surroundings looking for other enemies. He turned to Eloi.
"Does your superior night vision reveal anything to us?"
Without waiting for an answer Jean-Paul joined Mordekei over at the carriage.
He called out to Tumbry, Hamman and Akhan.
"Is everything clear? Are there any more enemies nearby?"
He shrugged and walked over to the carriage. Once at the carriage Eloi surveyed the interior. As Jean-Paul began to cross over the road to where Mordekei stood, Eloi
scanned the woods about him for any sign of life.
Suddenly, he saw a figure on the far side - a figure casting a spell.
"Lominstrall!" he shouted, automatically, pointing to where he saw the mage in the woods.
As he spoke, Lominstrall pointed in between him and Jean-Paul, and a silvery spray flew forth from his outstretched hands. As it hit them, Jean-Paul and Eloi turned, closing their eyes, gasping at the sharpness of this freezing cold.
Mordekei stood almost transfixed as he saw the Cone of Cold hit his comrades, not to mention the snarling dragon entrapped in the twisting plants but ten feet from him.
As he watched, Tumbry flew overhead, his sword drawn, headed towards the mage. When the blasting cold finally stopped, Mordekei was relieved to see Jean-Paul and Eloi, although somewhat frosted, still alive.

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

Riding on at a canter, they set off, Bermen ahead and paying close attention to the road lest he should miss anything.
They had barely left Niole Dra fifteen minutes, when Bermen was beginning to be perturbed by the absence of travellers on the road for the stretch. He slowed down considerably as he approached the confines of a small village, fearing some sort of ambush. A quick check behind revealed that Sholin and Aranon had done likewise.
He entered the cluster of houses, and found it to be quite deserted.
Although early in the morning, he would by now have expected to see men in the nearby fields, women washing, gathering water from the village well, children playing in the square.
Instead there was a dull silence.
Bermen noticed, unusually, that some of the chimneys of the houses had no smoke coming from them, and those that did would seem to have the merest flicker of a fire within their hearth.
Aranon turned his horse from side to side, looking around puzzled.
"I don't like it, not one little bit....".
He rode over to a house, larger that most, and dismounted. A quick boot and the door was open - Aranon clutched his staff and gingerly peeked in.
Aranon pushed the unlocked door aside and cautiously entered, as Bermen and Sholin dismounted to follow him.
As he wandered about, he noticed that a few items had been left out in the kitchen in preparation for breakfast, but not used. The huge kettle over the kitchen fire was stone cold, as the fire had been allowed to go out.
As he went to leave the kitchen, heard a noise from beyond the large table. Walking over, he noticed a crumpled rug, and lifting it carefully found a trap door beneath it.
As Sholin and Bermen entered the room, he nodded to the door. Sholin pointed his spear at it, Bermen drawing his sword as Aranon quickly lifted the door. Peering down into the darkness below, he heard a child snivelling. As his vision adjusted he saw a family, a wife, and three young children, hovering over a prostate man. The eldest child, a boy, was standing by the ladder down, holding a pitchfork pointed at the trap door.
"Calm down lad, we're not here to cause you any harm......"
Aranon stood back a step, allowing the others a brief view of what was happening, before peering back in.
Seeing the age of the young boy, Bermen admired his spirit for guarding the entrance to the hiding-place. He changed his sword to his left hand and raised his right hand in salute. "Peace. We mean you no harm."
"Come on out and we'll see what we can do for your father."
Aranon looked around the room again.
"What happened here? What kind of trouble caused so many to flee or hide? What has happened to this village? We are in search of the King and we think he may be coming this way. What is it that has caused you to hide? Was it a dragon?"
The woman, presumably the boy's mother, pushed down the spear tip and stood beside the boy, facing up. Bermen could see the tear stains on her cheeks, and as their eyes adjusted to the dark they saw the man's head was bandaged, blood crusted across the brow.
"A man came, last night. He told us all to stay inside. When Darrall, the headman, went out with three of our strongest men to tell him to be on our way, he beat them all, some sort of boxing like I have never seen before."
She sobbed, looking down at the man.
"My husband tried to help them, but..."
The boy, anger in his eyes, grimaced up at them.
"A man came at dawn from the north, a fancy lord. He was sick, and the man chased him off to the fields to the west."
Aranon inspected the prone figure, trying to determine whether there was anything he could do for the fellow.
"This fancy man, lad, what did he look like - can you remember? Or this other fellow, the one who has near killed your father?"
Aranon reckoned that the man's wounds were more superficial than anything, although he still seemed stunned, and quickly set about redressing his wounds.
"The man was tall, with yellow hair, like the sun. He wore a brown robe."
"A Suel!" Sholin stated. "This Shabass T'Lan perhaps? And the other man?"
"Muscley, with long brown hair. Quite tall, with a red silk blouson like them lords wear. He had jewellery on, but no sword, and he looked hurt or ill or something."
Aranon looked up at Bermen and Sholin. This needed no words, as all three knew the boy had just described the King!
Bermen looked at Aranon.
"Bugger," he said.
Looking intently at the boy he spoke quickly, "Lad, you can help us get the man who hurt your father! Come with me for a short time and show me exactly where these men went. I'm a ranger - I can follow their tracks and if we catch the bad bastard who beat your father then you can be sure he'll take a long and painful amount of time to die!"
Bermen held out his hand and smiled encouragingly as he used to do for raw recruits to his unit.
The boy put down the spear, which seemed to be far too heavy for him anyway, and began to pull Bermen outside. Aranon and Sholin followed.
Walking their horses, they followed the boy to where he pointed out a muddle of footprints, interspersed with the imprint of fallen bodies and, in places, bloodstains in the soil. Aranon and Sholin mounted as Bermen surveyed the tracks from there.
Most of them seemed to lead to other houses in the village, but Bermen soon found one set leaving to the east. These soon met up with another, of a man more heavily laden. As he walked on, past the houses, into the fields, Bermen was sure that the more heavily laden man had been running, whereas the other man seemed to have been walking.
He led the others out across the barren fields, and almost at the top of a small rise, the footprints merged. It seemed there had been a struggle there also, but there was very little blood. Only one set of footprints continued east, now heavily laden.
Following these over the rise, Bermen stopped and stood back up straight as Aranon and Sholin caught up to him. He pointed, to the south-east, to a small hill about two miles away.
A windmill stood there, its sails turning slowly in the light winds of that morn. Just below the sails, by a door there, they could just make out a minute figure.
"He went there!" Bermen declared.

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

Previous Chapter

Return to Black Hart page

Return to Greyhawk Matters

Next Chapter