The Cavern of Black Night and Unholy Rage

Leiden, Chloe and now Hador return to the room they slept in, Splice straggling behind. There are 2 guards now, Splice flies between them, last to enter. He lands on the rocky perch.

Hador removes her armor, sets it on a shelf away from Splice's greedy eyes, stands the axe carefully against the wall. One after another, Leiden and Chloe draw Hador into their arms, heart to heart, sealing the bond. They are brought food and drink, but none for the raven. Splice shares Leiden's meal and picks at Chloe's offering. He refuses to touch Hador's, even though the dwarf gives a fair portion.

Done with the meal, Leiden fits the tiny bracelets to the raven's feet. He zips about the room, shoots between the guards at the door, returns. He likes the silver bracelet.

Later Leiden and Hador talk, while Chloe listens. Once again, the raven is excluded. He flaps from his perch to Leiden's shoulder, cocks his head, squawks. There is only silence in his head. Chloe smiles at Splice, holds out a tentative hand, he flutters back to his perch on the wall.

Food is brought again before they are done talking, this time there is some for the raven.

Splice is not interested.

 

Next morning, they are outfitted with trail supplies and leave through the stronghold gates, a small unit of 5 warriors marching ahead of them. Hador notes to Leiden that the unit is the stronghold's finest, proven fighters, all. Because their journey now takes south, then west, they cut through the swamp they avoided before, to save time.

It is soon apparent that the raven and Hador do not get along. Even the charisma stones do not help much, but Splice is more to blame than the dwarf. He delights in startling the normally staid Hador, swooping in on her flank, cawing as he goes by. She does not know it, but it is her armor, the living aura, that pulls the raven, grasps his greed for anything that shines. Leiden tires of his antics and sternly bids him to stop. He does. But the damage is done...Hador glowers whenever she gets sight of him. Red Dwarves do not soon let go of a grievance.

The swamp proves to be slow going, they are forced to camp for the night on a raised hillock. Chloe this time sets the wards. No fire, they chew the flat cakes of of dwarven trail bread and settle down for the night. Each of the fighters fan out to the perimeter, form a circle around the two sorcerers, 1 stands at watch. Hador sleeps at Leiden's back, Chloe beside her, Splice in a nearby bush.

 

Shortly before dawn the wards wake up Leiden, Chloe and Hador. Splice shrieks out a warning, alerting the sleeping fighters before the one on watch can react.

Six lizard men come at the party from all directions, their clubs upraised, 4 goblins stay further away, preparing to use ranged attacks. Hador sees 2 Will-o-Wisps, small round bodies of blue light, casts a circle of shining light, pins it to Leiden. She tells Chloe to stay inside the circle, it will protect them from those who are evil.

The dwarven fighters deal with the lizard men, each taking on a foe. Leiden and Chloe loose their arrows at the goblins, who let their own arrows fly in return. Chloe takes one in her leg, a minor flesh wound. She yanks it free, thanks her bracelet, will deal with the injury later.

Splice plays games with the unopposed lizard man, flying at the back of his head again and yet again. His quarry spins in one direction, then the other, swinging his club wildly.

Hador goes after the 2 will-o-wisps, who promptly disappear. Leiden tells Chloe to place a spell to bring them back into view. Chloe does, they reappear right in front of Hador. Ferusaxe nearly leaps out of the dwarf's hands, so eager is it to fight evil again. One swing of the axe takes out one will-of-wisp, the other goes down seconds later. Blue sparks fill the air from their demise.

The goblins go down, studded with arrows, howling.

Hador wheels to meet the lizard man who has given up on the raven, and charges behind her. He doesn't have a chance against the axe, his club breaks and so does his skull. Blood and brains splatter the shining armor, hangs from the axe's blade, even splashes the raven. Splice sputters in outrage as he wings to get away from the gore. Almost, a smile forms on the dwarve's lips, it is gone too quick for the raven to notice.

Meanwhile, the dwarven fighters have taken down their targets, with only minor wounds, mainly bruises and a couple of leg injuries from the lizard men's spears. None of them appear to be out of breath, or even much discomforted.

Hador heals the minor wounds the party members incurred, she suffered none of her own.
Leiden and Chloe collect their arrows, including those still in the quivers of the dead goblins. They leave the flimsy bows behind. The warriors search the lizard men for gold, ignore the clubs and spears. There isn't much in the way of gold. What is found belongs to the fighters, their bounty for service. It goes in their leader's money pouch, will be divided later.

Everyone who needs to cleans their equipment while they eat a scant breakfast of trail rations; Splice cleans his feathers, too busy to care that food is around.

 

They debate returning to sleep, ask Hador if she needs to rest. She checks her spell book, seems satisfied; they break camp.

Healed, thoroughly energized from the fight, the band of travelers make good time crossing the rest of the swamp. They detour only once to avoid a pair of jellies that the raven spies. Once the swamp is crossed, the dwarves leave, head back to their stronghold. Hador stands watching them leave, squints as they move further and further away. Her face somber, she tugs at her beard. It is the first time she has been without her kind. Splice, for once, withholds comment.

Leiden, Chloe and Hador travel into the night to get as far as possible from the swamp before they camp. They find a friendly group of oaks, set the wards, settle in for the night. No disturbance wakes them, likely the dwarves have taken care of any problems on the trail back to their home.

Next day, they cross a river, paying a fee at the ford, continue to angle south and west. Another night passes without incident, another day, as well. The trail ends at a road that crosses the main course of the river over a bridge. There is a small stone fortification at the bridge, with a troupe of soldiers, an inn, a bathhouse; the bathhouse sets their decision, they stay at the inn.

 

III​

On their way again, they travel in a more southerly direction, heading toward a large town a few days away. Known to be a haven for bandits, Leiden avoids the roads in the area, even stays off the trails. Splice scouts far ahead, crisscrossing their route. Three times Leiden detours due to the raven's warning.

That day, they make fairly good time, even with the detours. They stop early when they find a good place to camp on a rocky ledge above a stream. A full moon is upon them with it's attendant energies, they decide to stand watches in addition to the wards. Hador sleeps in her armor.

Toward the end of Chloe's watch, at midnight, their camp is overrun with dire rats.

Dire rats, huge filthy things, their bite poisons, they carry diseases as well.

Hador's armor shines brightly, it's aura extended, she takes the point with Ferusaxe. Leiden and Chloe wait behind, their bows drawn, the rocky wall of the overhang at their back. Splice waits on top of the ledge.

A ring of fire forms around them, Chloe's doing, forcing the rats to jump it or turn away. Many of them bound over it, crazed fearless, squealing loudly. The rest mill around a short distance away waiting for the ring to subside. Splice takes the overhang, baits the rats who gain the ledge to leap, fall into the fire. Ferusaxe swings and chops, swings and chops. Heads fly, guts spill, red blood soaks the ground, sizzles in the fire. The smell is atrocious. Rats who lunge at Hador are stunned by her armor's aura, easy targets for arrows.

Leiden tires of shooting arrows. She throws out a hand, sends small little balls of energy to the rats waiting on the other side of the fire ring. Caught between the explosions and the fire ring, the rats who still live are shot down by Chloe. Hador and Ferusaxe have taken care of those inside the ring.

There are no rats left alive when the fire dies down.

Everyone checks for wounds, has Hador clean and heal any they find. They decide to pack up, find another place to camp, sure that the fire, all the squealing will bring other danger to the site.

 

And it does.

They run into a group of bandits and their leader. Ferusaxe, still bloody, practically snarls in Hador's hand. She and the axe take on the leader, Chloe and Leiden the others.

Out of missiles, Leiden stuns the bandits with rays of electricity crackling from her hand, blinds them with dazzling bursts of colored light. Chloe targets the blind or stunned bandits with her energy missiles switches to arrows. It doesn't take long to defeat the bandits, with the exception of their leader.

Enraged and screaming, the leader furiously swings, chops and thrusts at the dwarf with a stout halberd. Hador dodges and retreats, unable to get within striking range. Immune to Leiden's stun or blind magic, Chloe's arrows do not measurably slow him down. Splice sees an opening, and -- his talons outspread -- flies obliquely by, rakes the leader's neck, who wheels around. Hador charges in, screaming herself, directs the axe at his head. Drops of blood fly from the axe, Ferusaxe dives in, goes deep.

Almost, the axe in his head doesn't seem to have an affect , he wheels back, roaring. But the dwarf steps closer, trips him, he falls to the ground. Hador yanks Ferusaxe from the leader's skull, swings the axe and delivers the final blow.

Looking for gold coin, they loot the bandits. Except for the leader, most of the weapons and armor are not worth taking. Finding little in the way of gold on the others, they luck out with the leader. Besides the halberd and his chainmail, he carried a small bag of coins and 2 pearls.

They leave quickly, travel the rest of the night, Hador cleaning Ferusaxe as they go.

 

Interlude​

Cut in one rock wall of the dark cold cavern, an ancient worm hole climbs around, around, three times around, and up. It led, once, to a night black tower, old itself, younger than the tunnel, placed there as a seal. In ruins, black walls collapsed upon themselves and piled on the surface of the land, lie the remains, nearly forgotten.

Not so long ago, a dead witch's tower, a liche's tower; once upon a time, a place of exceptional power.

Few in recent memory ever saw the site, save those who laid the tower low, fought the dead one who died yet again, within. Uneasy eerie feelings, foreboding, dark and chilly turned all who ventured near, away.

Now the spell put there, placed upon the stones, the land, the seal, is weak; those who feast on fear hear the call, from the grotto below, come to clear the rubble, clear the stone. Lo, they clear the stone.

They work, they work. They search.

 

In a hollow sheltered by bushes and trees, Leiden and the others stop to rest, restore their spellbooks, allow Hador to clean her armor.

Traveling again the next day, they cut more southerly still, to reach Aglae's ancestral home and his heir. Aglae Argent was the last of the 7 to pass on, a frontline fighter, another of the 4 defenders. His weapon, Mortel Rouge, flamed when facing evil. It was always paired with a flaming shield. Both were made of silver, and some said the family name came from the sword and shield.

Although there are numerous trails in the area, they avoid them.

Mid-day, the raven tells Leiden Argent Manor is near. Shortly after, on a rise in a clearing and surrounded by a wall, they come to the manor.

Once inside the walls, a tall man approaches them, bows to Leiden, introduces himself. Long legged, broad shoulders, his hair shiny black, Libere's grey eyes missed nothing, and certainly not Chloe. He is Aglae's son, Libere.

Like the dwarves, he knows Leiden's purpose; like Hador, he has prepared since early childhood for this day. Like her, his father provided much of his training.

Fostered with other noted fighters, Libere rarely stayed for long. None could match his reflexes, speed or endurance; he seemed to float when he fought. When Libere had yet to reach manhood, he could out fight his father.

Early the next morning, they take off again, still heading south.

 

With Libere leading the way this time, Hador in back, Splice flying ahead, they move quickly into forested land. Libere grew up in the area, knows the trails, the fastest route to the area where they go. The manor fighting men patrol regularly, so they meet no danger.

It takes them 3 camps to reach the grove where Rilen Silivrenniel the Druid worships his god. They all feel the power emanating from the grove as they approach, Leiden most of all. She does not falter. Splice, however, flies erratically, squawks repeatedly, no matter the thoughts Leiden sends.

Standing outside a small house, Rilen, his older brother and younger sister wait on them to come from the trees and up the path. Rilen smiles, bows his head at each of them in turn, brings them in the house.

The raven will not come in the house, will not go near the oak grove.

Later that night Leiden comes out of the house, sits, bids Splice to come, come to her shoulder. He does. At dawn, they watch the sun rise together.

 

Around a meadow, a ring of oak trees grow, guardians, their branches intertwined. An old, old tree stands in the center, it's trunk huge, it's branches shading almost the entire meadow.

A small clear placid pool, no more than 3 feet across, sits slightly west of the trunk; an large oblong weathered stone, flat on top, lies south, facing north. Rilen's family cemetery, unmarked, lies north of the tree.

Rilen worships his god at the altar of stone, a god his ancestors worshiped, a god they were sworn to long ago. Apart from Rilen, his family, the god is known to no others in recent time, none save Leiden.

When the new moon rises, Leiden, Chloe and Rilen bathe in salted water, precious in the woods, dress in robes. They take turns braiding each other's hair. Splice preens and grooms himself. His eye never leaves Leiden.

Rilen and Leiden prepare the altar, Chloe and the raven wait. They place two small bowls on the altar, one filled with water from the pool, the other holding a pink powder: the quartz marble crushed and ground. The small scroll Leiden carried lays between the two bowls, flat on the stone.

Overhead now, the new moon, Leiden and Chloe remove their robes.

They are ready.

 

Interlude

In my place on the altar, I watch.

Together, the old one and the young one kneel across from one another, on either side of the flat stone. First the old one wets her lips with holy water, adds the dust. Then the young one follows suit, her mouth pink, even as the mouth, the lips of the old one.

I hear the old one start the chant, read the words of power. She chants, the young one answers. Then, the young one leads, the old one responds, back and forth, back and forth, building a chain. Their lips glow. I feel the power. The chant builds, it builds, their voices rise, the power follows.

Together now, they chant, in unison. I feel the power, all around I feel it! It resounds like silent thunder. I quake. I remember the old one's words, I stand true.

Aiyee! The chanting stops. Leaning forward, with open mouths, the old one and the young one, I see them press their mouths together. I see them kiss. Light flares from the kiss; it is bright, the light. It is very, very bright.

I shiver, I watch the transfer. Dressed in light, the old one pours herself into the other, pours everything: her knowledge, her training, her wisdom, her inner strength, her force of will. The light goes with her. Another presence, bleeds up from the altar, goes to meet her. I go with her.

Aiyee! I go with her!

We flow, we flow like a river, we flow with the light, seeking, spreading, binding. It is so bright!

The presence reaches, finds, takes.

Aiyee! She dies, the old one dies, aiyee!, she dies. She dies.

I try to go with her, I so want to go with her!

I can't.

I am bound now, mind to mind with Chloe.

 

The ritual is not over. Rilen burns Leiden's body, on the altar. Night and the new moon pass. The sun's light cuts through the tree, touches the altar. It is finished.

Her ashes, her bones, are placed in the ground with the others of Rilen's family, those who also fed the god, feed the tree, passed on their knowledge, one to another.

The old gods give; they also take, balance the scale. This god gives much.


Everyone passes the day resting, recovering from the ritual, the transfer, the burial.

Chloe is quiet, assimilating the new parts she has gained. Hador shines her armor, cleans Ferusaxe until the axe gets fidgety. Libere replenishes the trail rations, studies maps, cleans his armor. Rilen prepares to leave his duties, spends time with his family.

The raven Splice sits alone in a tree. He does not show interest in any of the preparations, nor does he appear to rest.

 

Dawn finds them on their way again, to the west this time.

Again, one of them is familiar with the area and has kept it free from evil; their way is uneventful.

Until they reach the river.

A ferryman's shack sits not too far from the river, his rowboat tied to a post on the bank. No one is inside, and it doesn't look as though anyone has been there recently. They need to cross the river to keep traveling west, decide to take the boat across themselves. Splice lags behind, as he has since they left the druid's grove.

Almost to the other side of the river, a merrow rises from the water in back of the boat. Splice calls a warning, but it is too late. The water ogre, a large stout creature wearing hide armor, swamps the boat. All of them fall in the river. Though submerged, the boat doesn't sink.

Splice swoops and darts wildly around the merrow, trying to give Chloe and Rilen, good swimmers, a chance to gain the river bank. Hador, who cannot swim at all, hangs onto the boat with both hands. She curses the merrow in every language she knows. Libere can just barely touch the riverbed with his feet and clutches the side of the rowboat with one hand. He is unable to reach his sword, holds his flaming shield up in front of him with his other hand.

Distracted by the attacks by Splice, the merrow swings around and back around, trying to hit the raven, then Libere with his longspear. It rocks the boat even more. Hador swears at them all.

Chloe reaches the bank, prepares to send a fire beam at the merrow. She sees a figure lurching toward her from the side, turns to face it.

Rilen, while still under water, changes into his fire eagle shape. Screaming, he shoots up out of the water, wings trailing fire, wheels, flies directly at the big ogre.

Splice wings to help Chloe, is attacked by a small flying water mephit. He angles sharply down out of the way of it's icy breath and flies under it, comes up behind.

Dodging the fire eagle, the merrow slips and falls forward, sending the boat toward the riverbank. Feet on the riverbed, Hador wastes no time getting out of the water, rushes toward the lacedon that threatens Chloe. Temporarily crazed, she forgets she can drive the water ghoul away with her innate ability to turn the undead. Libere, his feet planted, draws his sword, waits for the merrow.

It comes up thrashing, it's spear lost in the water. Enraged, the merrow charges Libere barehanded. Mortel Rouge flames and dances, striking the ogre once, twice, thrice. Wounded, still the merrow stands, clubs Libere with his fist, then yet again. Libere staggers, but keeps thrusting with his sword, cutting it's arms when he can't.

Meanwhile, Chloe has been struck by the lacedon and is paralyzed. Hador gives Ferusaxe his head. With one swing, Ferusaxe nearly chops the lacedon in half, keeps chopping until it lies in pieces. Purple ichor puddles on the ground, splashes on Hador's armor, on Chloe.

Screaming again, the fire eagle halts in midair above the mephit, flaps his flaming wings, and catches the mephit in the fiery wash. It falls in ashes. Rilen turns to aid Libere.

Libere needs the help; the merrow won't go down and batters him with it's fists. Rilen comes up behind the ogre, burns the back of it's head with his breath. This, it notices and turns to face Rilen, who has already flown out of range. Libere sluggishly shoves Morte Rouge into the merrow's body, hits a vital organ, it falls into the water, dead. It's bulky body sends the river outward in waves. The water is red with it's blood.

Rilen lands on the bank, changes back into his normal form. Libere is standing by force of will and is bleeding from his ears. Rilen goes to him, helps Libere get to land, where he falls, his strength gone. Ferusaxe back in her control, Hador is measurably calmer. She attends to Libere, heals him, then turns to Chloe. Splice hovers, anxious, overhead while Hador frees Chloe of paralysis and ghoul fever.

Each of them unties their packs from the boat. Most of the rations, soaked with bloody river water, are fed to the fish. Wet armor needs to dry, sword and axe cleaned; they move into the woods swiftly, seek a place to camp. Splice flies in front, this time.

Cleaning their gear, sharing the rations, they discuss the battle. Libere ponders why the trio of monsters came together. Chloe knows why. Even as she can sense the figure in the grotto, so it can sense her, knows her location. Evil marches not only toward the grotto, but seeks her as well.

 

Ahhh, they march, they march. They crawl, they scuttle, they fly, they drag their bodies to the tower ruins. Higher, higher grow the piles of rock. Closer, closer they come, to the stairs, the stairs, the stairs in the tunnel below.


With the passing of the old one, on the black silvered ball, the net of neon blue flickers out.

In the grotto, the transfer is felt, known. Unrelenting, cascading all around, shrill screams ricochet off the walls. Under the blue basalt, the figure writhes, heaves, wracking the stone shroud.

On the shroud, the ice grows, it grows, it grows.

It grows yet again, even to the black silvered ball.

Lo, it rises up the ball.

 

IV​

Still heading west the next day, they angle north somewhat. Hador grumbles that she will cross no more rivers unless it is on a bridge. Splice is earnestly scouting ahead, checking with Chloe mind to mind frequently, flying back to perch on her shoulder, then flying forward. Libere takes the lead again, his long stride moving him well ahead of the rest. Hador chides him often to slow down. Chloe and Rilen bring up the rear. Rilen too complains about Libere's pace, to no effect.

They are traveling to a roadhouse on the outskirts of a large town. Skylark Volare's family has owned the roadhouse for 3 generations. Skylark, half elf, more elf than otherwise, was the bard of the band of 7. Her remarkable voice was put to good use at the family roadhouse, making it a well known stop for caravans and other travelers.

After hearing Skylark sing one night, a cloaked traveler gave her a tambourine, then slipped away without anyone learning his name. Runes of an indeterminate nature covered the drumhead, the discs that were around the rim were silver, the same silver found in the mines of the Red Dwarves. Hador's father, Beldon, believed the discs were fashioned on the dwarve's holy forge. His hands itched to touch them. When Skylark used it, her voice seemed to echo, reverberate, as far out as any walls allowed.

There were times when the tambourine and Skylark's voice made the difference in winning a battle.



Two more days travel brings them well out of forested lands, onto the level plains and then to the roadhouse. Tired, dirty and thoroughly put out at Libere's unrelenting pace, Hador and Rilen are barely speaking to him by the time they arrive. Chloe, preoccupied, has yet to assert leadership. Splice has stopped harassing Hador and her shining armor and swoops instead at Libere's head. Libere ignores them all, except the raven, threatens to split Splice's gullet with an arrow. Everyone is relieved when the roadhouse comes in sight.