Terrance Everley

[Eredar Rathisk]

Even though the Tavern mysteriously exploded and collapsed on itself only two days before, night gave way to day regardless... and vice versa... and again. The majority of Sifligians, although initially uncomfortable while near the rubble, began to idle the Square just as before. There they were: laughing, singing, dancing, drinking - just as before. In stark contrast to this scene, we have another: a group of lizardfolk working diligently trying to remove the debris in preparation for the construction of a new Tavern.

The image of the Square was tableau, and speaks well of the Sifligians. However, the picturesque world of recovery after great loss would soon find itself intruded upon. The Yokurans, either furious over the loss of the leader whom they were most connected to or blinded by the irresistable allure of gold, barged into the Square en masse wanting the head of those responsible for Aquinas Aurian's death.

The standard-bearer, acting as the ad-hoc leader for the group, displayed an unusual symbol to the people in the Square - an ancient symbol for water, a familiar symbol to some. In a rather boorish voice, the standard-bearer inquired, "Have you seen this around anywhere?"

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A day before, while Gnimelf was away, Castle Darykthal received another strange visitor.

Ulysses Andesan, a wizard and devotee of the Firelord, was put in charge of guarding the castle's entrance while the others were gone. Superficially armed with only a broom, he gently swept the grounds while at the same time listening for interlopers. Although he was the one who offered a position in the twenty for Terrance, he was far from being a bumbling twit, and despite being more wizened and ancient than Gnimelf himself, his hearing was still astounding.

Then, Ulysses heard something. Someone was coming toward the gate. He quickly abandoned the pretense of common janitor, and his broom transformed into an obsidian staff. The shabby robes he was wearing suddenly exploded with a combination of orange and black. He slowly approached the gate to greet the man in red and black.

"Friend or foe, sir?", he inquired.
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血�水より濃�。

[Ktzi]

The masked, armored figure paused to regard the Kossuthian at the gate. It seemed to him that the followers of this "Kossuth" were more well off than he had expected, but either way they would work well for what he had in mind. He lowered the hood of his cloak and removed the cap-like helm to which his mask was adhered.

The face so revealed was obviously inhuman, with a dark grayish-red pigmentation and slightly reptilian features, much like those of a Yuan-Ti pureblood. His golden eyes glowed faintly with just the slightest hint of a pupil and his head was crowned with long black dreadlocks. The being grinned, revealing oversized canines, before speaking.

"I am Ascendant Superior Arakkan Zamatz of the Moahroc Sixth Inquisition. I desire to seek audience with your master to discuss certain mutually-beneficial arrangements. So, as you say, I am a friend." As the last words escaped his lips, his expression returned to its previous unsettling grin.

[Eredar Rathisk]

By just looking in his eyes, Ulysses was obviously taken aback by the creature's appearance. Quickly, he worked to regain his composure in dealing with this strange visitor.

"Well met, Arakkan. Won't you come inside the castle?" said the wizard, beckoning him inside. "I am afraid Kossuth's Chosen One ... and our leader, Jaron Gnimelf, is away at the moment. He should be returning shortly, however. In the meantime, do come in, I insist."

The two of them entered the castle and navigated themselves through the many foyers and hallways until at last they came upon the parlor room.

One of the many rooms left untouched by the Order upon moving in, the parlor room certainly seemed that way when they went inside - untouched, that is. The furniture and decorations of the room all seem borrowed from antiquity. An acrid stench fills the room, and the fireplace in the corner is full of cobwebs and various offal.

Ulysses bows and says apologetically, "I am sorry, it is not often we receive visitors, sir. Please, please, sit down. My master will be here shortly. In the meantime, we have time to talk.."

In a tone that seems to regret his own words, "Pardon me, but can you tell me a bit about this Inquisition you belong to?"
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血�水より濃�。

[Ktzi]

Zamatz nodded to the wizard. "I would be happy to do so." He glanced about the room, selecting a large chair to sit in. He removed from under his cloak a long, curved sword, held in a scabbard wrapped in black leather. The Ascendant Superior leaned the weapon against a nearby table and placed his helm with its distinctive faceplate atop the sword's pommel.

"You noticed the term 'Inquisition.' That's not the accurate term for my group; though the first five are true inquisitions, weeding out heresy and corruption within our major realms, the Sixth seeks to prevent its spread. There was a great.. embarrassment to the Church of Moahros and much of my race, of which I can give the details if you so desire," Zamatz's accent was very thick, possessing an almost songlike quality mingled with the crackling hisses of an open fire. "That leads to the explanation of my presence here. You see, distant forces have noticed your repeated contacts with the Plane of Elemental Fire. They are massing in the woods surrounding this place, and they are a sort of infection. Not only do they seek to destroy you, they seek to convert the populance to further this end. My group, in turn, seeks to destroy them and prevent the latter." He smiled. "Again, if you are curious, I can give a basic history and the reasons behind each of these things."

Zamatz leant back in the chair, making himself as comfortable as his curious armor would allow, waiting for Ulysses' response.

[Eredar Rathisk]

Ulysses was overwhelmed by what he was hearing. Arakkan Zamatz's answers only put more questions in the wizard's naturally inquisitive mind. Ulysses, in all the years he spent traversing the northern part of the realms, had never encountered anyone... or anything like the .. Ascendant Superior.
In a voice attempting to sound cool and collected but still anxious, he spoke.

"Who are these.. 'forces' you speak of? How large are they, do you know anything of their numbers? .. and I don't mean to sound rude, but what exactly are -you-, and where are you from? In all my years of travel, I have never seen one of your kind, I'm afraid."
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血�水より濃�。

[Ktzi]

Zamatz leaned forward, smiling. "I am isimothe. We are a fairly expansive people, but our home is in a parallel Prime Material. I'm from the world of Aeldan, the largest of our worlds. There's a fair human presence there, I suppose possible refugees from this Prime, which is why I am able to use your tongue." He closed his eyes briefly. "The forces I mentioned are the followers of a being, a demon, known as Kalandath. Some centuries ago he managed to corrupt and enslave some members of our High Council, the leading body of our church. We worship gods of fire, symbolizing the light that leads us to enlightenment, the flame of both innovation and destruction. But sadly, the fires blinded us to the corruption festering within until a small faction-- the Knights of the Undying Flame-- discovered the taint and purged it without mercy. Kalandath fled, but took with him many loyal followers."

Zamatz glanced at the door before continuing. "We discovered later that Kalandath had discovered a new method to recruit followers. He had some sort of.. drug that would slowly build in the body. Initially it would cause aggression, gullibility, and recklessness. Eventually sudden, short trances would occur at random as the previous traits were magnified. Finally, the skin would turn pallid, the blood vessels a foul black visible under the skin, and the eyes a fell green. The victim would be wholly a servant of Kalandath. They've spread this.. drug, disease, all over our Prime and in some areas in this one. Now it's in the water here." He stood. "I can't give exact numbers, but his forces are almost limitless, only limited by the number of Gates available to his magicians. Aside from those tainted ones I just described, there are innumerable bloodlines containing humanoids mutated beyond recognition within his armies. They despise anything worshipping gods of fire because of that Purge I mentioned: and this includes you."

[Eredar Rathisk]

As Zamatz spoke of Kalandath and his minions, Ulysses' face transformed from one marking curiousity to one marking incredible terror. Such is the nature of wizards: it is not the known that makes them fearful of the future; rather, it is the unknown.

"Us?!", he said in a manner of disbelief. "... and their numbers are limitless?! Oh, oh, we can't possibly fend them off, we are but twenty! By the nine.."

A loud voice of untempered arrogance suddenly interrupted Ulysses and his lamentations, "Oh, do shut up, old fool. Your gutless nature sickens me. Why don't you go crawl back to the hole you came from?"

Entering the room from the hallway was Ferrick Darkshield, a warlock whose pride was surpassed only by his disrespect for his cohorts and the god they worshipped. Ferrick rarely attended the Order's religious ceremonies, and whenever he did, he jeered and made mockery of the liturgy. The only reason Ferrick was allowed admission into the organization by Jaron in the first place was his incredible fighting style and his mutual hatred of the Sifligians. But even though Ferrick is under Gnimelf's protection, almost all the other members would like to see Ferrick treated like the heretic he is.

Ferrick continued his snide speech. "Andesan, why don't you go find our 'glorious leader' and tell him we have a visitor... since you apparently can't handle -any- sort of diplomacy." Ulysses, so shaken by Zamatz's news, acceded to Ferrick's unauthoritative demands and left to find their leader.

Ferrick sat himself down in a chair opposite Zamatz. "I apologize. Ulysses seems to be at first glance a fairly intelligent man, but he can't handle anything... He was the one who admitted that green.. idiot into the organization, who almost screwed up in bombing the Tavern ... but I digress."

He looked into Zamatz's unusual golden eyes and his tone changed entirely, "I overheard you two talking... You mentioned that Kalandath's men traveled through a series of Gates. Do you know of any Gates near here? We may be able to bring them down if you can tell us or find out for us where they are."

"Also... and I'm sure this is fairly obvious to you, but although we are twenty of the best warriors and spellcasters in all of Faerun, we are still only twenty men and women. If you could speak with your High Council about providing us with some troops for protection, I'm sure our lord could provide them with suitable room and board within Castle Darykthal. What say you, Ascendant Superior?"
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血�水より濃�。

[Ktzi]

Zamatz leaned back, his grin widening. "Those are exactly the words I wanted to hear. The Inquisitor leading this detachment arrived along with roughly two hundred of our finest troops roughly a day ago and is currently camped within the woods outside. With your master's approval we shall occupy what segment of this fortress you allow us." His expression turned to the serious. "The Gates used by Kalandath's worshippers are simple, permanent one-way portals that are notoriously unreliable without a Linking Gate on the other side, which can only be constructed once they have a significant enough presence to harvest the massive amounts of magical material needed. As it is now, I imagine that their portal spat out a small band somewhere near here. As they could not gain reinforcements from the Gate due to planar distortion, they've begun the conversion process on the surrounding intelligent beings. Essentially, we have to eliminate them prior to the construction of the Linking Gate; if that occurs, this place will be quickly overrun." He leaned forward, looking closely at the warlock. "The Gates do have a usage limit and a cooldown period, so even if it is constructed, its rapid destruction may be enough to prevent any... unpleasantness."

[Eredar Rathisk]

"Right, so we must prevent them from building their Linking Gate at all costs... but then there's the equal threat posed by Kalandath's followers converting the.." He pauses to spit on the floor. "... Sifligians into the tainted ones you mentioned earlier. While the Sifligians have no brains to call their own, they do have the brawn."

The warlock contemplated for a moment in silence and finally exclaimed, "Meh, s'no good, we can't let the Sifligians themselves know anything about this. We'll just have to hurry and execute Jaron's plan in exterminating the Sifligians while at the same time prevent the construction of these 'Linking Gates'. Hmm.. Speaking of Jaron, what is taking him so long?"

"Probably having some sort of out-of-body experience," the warlock mumbled sardonically.
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血�水より濃�。

[Rawor]

The man, Roach, was living true to his name and had a soggy rollup in his mouth, the glowing tip just visible from under the hood.

"I've been trying to quit." He tells Eredar casually, and offers him a smoke. "Hello, Eredar, old friend. I've not time to sit and chat, you'll just have to trust me. Shall we walk?"

Amy, true to her orders, offers the Necromancer a hand and a glittering smile. On the inside she was rolling her eyes.

[Eredar Rathisk]

"Hmn, do I know you? Hmn..", Eredar inquired. Following a brief pause where his mind tried to attach the face to a name, the half-drow necromancer answered Roach.

"Yes, let's walk."
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血�水より濃�。

[Rawor]

The four Midnight Visitors sent to capture Jaron were walking alongside him but off the road, waiting for the right time to reveal themselves.
Zoltan made a two-fingered gesture, and his companions backtracked behind the wizard, drawing long, recurve longbows as they walked. He himself ran a little ahead, quietly as a ghost, and stepped out into the road some 40 metres ahead of the Baron. Lighting another ciggarette, he then made no attempt to hide his presence. He looked sightly otherworldly, with his frazzled hair, lack of eyebrows and goggles reflecting the light of the flame.

---

Meanwhile, the three were walking together towards the Kreklok stream.

Wondering amusedly whether the old duffer had put a name to his darkened face. They walked in silence until he felt that the Necromancer was ready to ask just what was going on.
"Eredar, there is something rather severe going on in Siflige, but this is no place to talk about it. With your leave, I'd like to take you blindfolded to a more secure location."

They stop walking, and Roach turns to face him. "Again, I will have to ask for your trust."

[Eredar Rathisk]

It wasn't until Zoltan got in front of him that Jaron realized what was going on. He gave a quizzical look towards Zoltan and the Midnight Visitors behind him and, in a haughty tone of voice, spoke to Zoltan.

"... What is this? An attempt at a robbery by a group of highwaymen? Each of you, give me your names, fools, so I may write them on your graves, along with the epitath: 'This fool and others foolishly tried to outwit Jaron Gnimelf and died for it'."

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"Severe, indeed?", said Eredar. "Blindfold me if you must, but no tricks. Heed my warning: if you try and trick me, you might just end up like the walking dead: a silent, shambling corpse."
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血�水より濃�。

[Rawor]

Zoltan puffed out some pungeant blue smoke, and looked over Jaron's shoulder towards the other Visitors. He shrugs, and walks towards the Pyromancer.

"My name is Zoltan the Corsair. Most people call me Zap. You, I think, will not."

The three other visitors approach Jaron, bows drawn but not held in any particularily menacing manner. They were all experts; any one of them could draw and fire accurately in under a second. Wary of the wizard's magics, they fan out around him.

"As much as I'm sure you'd love a little rough and tumble out here in the woods, we don't intend to hurt you if we don't have to. It would be in your interest if you would come quietly." Zoltan raises his eyebrows, but it is an unnoticeable action, considering the current state of his face. "So, what are we going to do?"

---

Amy blindfolds Eredar, and together they lead him to the treehouse, whereapon Roach hoists him up onto the roof through a trap door, leaving Amy to join the other visitors in capturing Jaron.

"Yes, you can feel it. It isn't a normal tree. Ironwood, with elemental wards on it. I tell you this because I feel I can rely on you to keep it to yourself.
You're probably wondering why you're here, and who we are."

Roach removes his hood, revealing a bony, bearded face and severe eyes. He looks to be in his thirties.
"You don't remember me, do you? I suppose I am rather older." He leans closer to Eredar. "My name is Jack Taralash. Ten years ago, the when you woke up from the Loci slumber, I killed the guards and helped you escape. Do you remember?"

He regards the Necromancer critically. "Either way, I need your help."

[Eredar Rathisk]

"What are -you- going to do?", said Jaron. "My suggestion to you all is... run!"

Using an esoteric yet seemingly simple set of gestures and incantations, the Ignathekir, as he was known around the Kobonni kobolds, sent a hex towards the Midnight Visitor on his right. The man suddenly found himself consumed in all-encompassing flames, and, like a headless chicken, the man ran around in circles, hopelessly and with no aim. When the Midnight Visitor stopped running, his body was reduced to a lifeless burnt husk.

The other Midnight Visitors were taken aback by this for a moment, but they quickly retained their composure. It was clear to them he was not going to go quietly; yet, at the same time they were confident in themselves. They could still take them on.

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Eredar Rathisk stared blankly at Roach's face and tried to bring back the memory of that day. Yet Eredar was old, and his memory was failing him... even the memory of that day.

Still, Eredar was willing to help Jack... who knows? He may get something in return. "What do you need my help with? What's going on.. do you know who or what destroyed the Tavern?"
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血�水より濃�。

[Rawor]

The Midnight Visitors blink, but remain composure.

As the two archers fire at the mage, the arrows are ignited and disintergrate before they reach their target. As one approaches with a knife, his armour blackens and scorches, and he backs off fromt he unbearable heat.

Zoltan, the Monk, is in proximity of the Baron within moments and puts a kick to his chest, sending him onto his back several yards away. He follows, and kneels on his chest, pinning his arms to the ground. Due to his speed, the other two hardly noticed his passage and take a second adjust themselves.

Zoltan stares at him coldy, and rabbit-punches him on the nose. "I knew we should have just killed you from the start, but Roach wanted you brought in. I'm thinking we should just send you back top your little castle dead, and tell him it was a mistake.
Lucky for you I'm more loyal than that." He punches him again, and again, then climbs off and wipes his hands on the mans robes. "Tie that sonofabitch up and drag him home."

Looking to his fallen comrade, he sighs. "Looks like we need another upgrade. But this is no time for standing around."

Zoltan wrinkles his nose at the smell of burning flesh, and places a blessing on the body. With that, he kicks the mage in the ribs, and walks off into the woods.

[Eredar Rathisk]

If Jaron wasn't quite unconscious after having Zoltan's fist meet with his neck, being dragged to the Midnight Visitors' treehouse eventually made him that way.

... and it was in this state of unconsciousness that the fire-god Kossuth began to speak to the wizard, and as he spoke, the Midnight Visitors heard Jaron speak as they dragged him back to their hideaway.

He began to recite a poem.

"O, ye unholy synod, ye wicked place of vice,
Begat by the primordial Locus, it beguiles men as nice,
Aye! A modest hostelry luring men with spirits of cheap price.
The antediluvian monster had done such before.

Was this place of wonder Primal or even close? Nay!
T'was otherworldly, a land of non-stop play,
The perfect world for libertine scum to drink rum all day,
And then at night, roll around in the hay,
What can a man of values say that cannot be inferred from lore?

The star-cr ... PURGE THE LAND OF THE DECADENT!"

Almost as quickly as he started, the wizard stopped.
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血�水より濃�。

[Rawor]

The Visitors don't take much notice of the mublings of the mad wizard, and drag him up the tree. As they get inside, Roach has his hood on again and is talking to Eredar about the situation with the Igniferi and the tavern. As the trap door opens, they both turn to see the two very angry Visitors and a battered looking wizard.

Roach seemed amused. "Didn't come quietly, eh?" Then he pauses. "Where are Zoltan and Alex? And Amy? I sent her to meet you."
"Alex was killed by this bastard. Zoltan wandered off, we haven't seen Amy."
"Killed? How? You were all flameproofed."
"This guy is different. He's rather more powerful than we anticipated. He probably could have brought down the tavern on his own, bomb or no bomb."
Gottenburg rubs his palm across his nose. "We knew the risks involved. It's the business. Boss, what do we do with him now we've got him here?"
"We pester him for information." Roach remained calm, but saying that, nobody could see the expression below the hood. "Put his hands in buckets of cold water. And bind his fingers together. Gottenburg, start surveillence at once. No doubt someone will notice him gone."

--

"I saw what happened. It was just bad luck, that's all." Amy stood beside Zoltan, who, despite himself, hadn't heard her coming.
"I was being cocky. That won't happen again." The monk squatted in a tree, some distance from the Castle. "Tell Roach I'm watching them from now on. I'll send messages back daily to convey what I've seen."
Amy knew better than to argue. "Take care. I'll come back later with food."
She dropped out of the tree silently, and ran away into the night.

[Eredar Rathisk]

"Where could he be?!", Ferrick exclaimed in exasperation. Hours had passed since Jaron's departure, and Ferrick was growing impatient. He couldn't entertain this stranger forever; he seemed to be growing impatient as well. He looked apologetically towards the Ascendant Superior and spoke, "Excuse my master for his punctuality or lack thereof. May I get you a drink? Perhaps some brandy or some other brand of liq-.."

With little warning, Ulysses burst into the room screaming, "Ferrick! Ferrick! Everyone! I can't find Lord Darykthal anywhere! I've looked all over for him and can't find him! I've tried to cast divination spells to find him, but I can't find out what's happened to 'em!"

"You're hardly an augur, Andesan," said Ferrick in a tone like a snake's bite. Then in a reflective tone, he conceded to Ulysses. "Still, he's been absent for hours now - it's quite strange. Incredibly strange. Ulysses, get the others... I feel we must search for Gnimelf. Something may have happened to him." He looked to the Isimothe. "Feel free to join us, if you want."

Within an hour, men and women alike could be seen leaving Castle Darykthal and descending down the hillside.
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血�水より濃�。