The Order of the Dark Flame: Book 5. (story, no spam)

[T'lainya]

T’lainya entered the kitchen, wiping the last of the fireplace ashes from her face. She was desperately in need of a strong cup of coffee. She arrived just in time to smell the fresh brew. She sat down and spoke quietly to the others about the status of the weave and what she had seen.

[Gwalchmai]

Gwalchmai rode back through the forest on his horse, the early light filtering through the snow and trees. As he drew closer to the keep, the feeling of dread grew within him. A clump of snow falling from a branch made a soft noise behind him and he startled, absurdly worrying about monkeys in the trees. Two riders approached him, and he was relieved to recognize Yshania and Dragon Wench. But his relief was short lived once he saw the expressions on their faces. Yshania seemed sad, with the hood of her cloak drawn tight against the icy snow that had begun falling, and her eyes made furtive, worried glances toward Dragon Wench. Dragon Wench just stared blankly, the snow striking her face and her cheeks reddening from the cold.

Gwalchmai explained that he had left Bloodstalker and Aegis to puzzle the many tracks in the clearing and that Aegis had seemed particularly keen on a set apparently belonging to a Drow wizard. Gwalchmai further explained that he was heading to the keep to find someone who knew the rituals. Yshania said that they would accompany him and she pulled both her and Dragon Wench’s horse around to follow.

Entering the keep by the front door, they quickly located the Symbols and Tome of Amaunator on a table where Aegis had left them. Gwalchmai heard voices coming from the kitchen; at least Thantor, Vivien, T’lainya, and Nippy were there. He was about to go and ask if they knew the rituals that needed to be performed when a slip of parchment fell out of the tome. Picking it up, he read:

Dawn Ritual
1) Say a prayer to the rising sun.
2) Hold the Holy Tome up to the Sun and my Power shall bless it.
3) Reflect as thou perceive the victory of Light over the Dark.

Noontide Ritual
1) Let thy voices sound the glorious songs of thy Lord.
2) Raise thy hands to the sun
3) Rejoice on the Glory of the Light as it reigns over the Dark.

Dusk Ritual
1) Recite the Tenets of the Faith. They shall give thee strength until I come again.
2) Hold high thy children that they may longer see the Sun before it slips beyond this realm. The Sun shall give them courage against the fears of the Night.
3) Mourn as thou watch the sun give way to the night

Yshania read over his shoulder. “Surely Rai’ya wouldn’t need to keep notes on how the rituals are performed, would she?”

“Maybe these were written by one of her acolytes,” Gwalchmai said, “Dragon Wench and I have read a number of Rai’ya’s journals and its not her handwriting, don’t you think, DW?” But Dragon Wench did not seem interested in looking at the note. She just kept fingering the pommel of her sword. Gwalchmai’s eyes were drawn to the glob of coagulated blood at the top of the scabbard, indicating that Dragon Wench had sheathed her sword without cleaning it – something she would never do even in the most dire of circumstances. Then he noticed traces of blood soaked into Yshania’s sleeve. He raised a questioning eyebrow to Yahania, but she just turned away wordlessly.

Choosing not to disturb those tending to Nippy’s wounds, Gwalchmai mounted the stairs and climbed to the eastern ramparts of the keep with Dragon Wench and Yshania following closely behind. He recognized the view of the fields and forests as the same view from the window of his own room at the keep, indicating that they were directly above his room. Adjacent to the easternmost wall of the rampart there was a small stone altar that he had never noticed before. An eroded sun symbol was revealed when he brushed the snow away from the surface. He placed the Symbols of Amaunator on the altar and opened the Tome. He looked out over the fields toward the rising sun – a spectacular view from this vantage, and said a silent prayer of forgiveness to Eldath and Silvanus before beginning the Dawn Ritual to a dead god.

Gwalchmai checked the note, then opened the tome to a page containing the Prayer to the Rising Sun. He spoke the words, though some of the ancient language was difficult for him to pronounce. By the end of the prayer, a soft orange glow seemed to have settled on the altar, washing over the symbols and picking out the engraved sun with bright specks of light. He checked the note again, and lifted the tome high, into the rays of the morning light. The tome began to feel warm in his hands, and a bright mote of dust appeared and began to swirl around the tome, moving slowly at first, but gradually gaining speed.

Suddenly, a mystical portal opened directly behind Gwalchmai, and a large round orb floated out. Gwalchmai’s eyes widened as a Beholder turned its large bloodshot eye toward him. Only this wasn’t any normal Beholder. This one was covered in a thick acid-green slime that dripped and sizzled on the stone and snow. Great pustules and festering wounds covered the bloated orb, and Gwalchmai fought the urge to retch from the smell. A score of small eyes writhed on raw, red-colored stalks. The large mouth opened, revealing blackened, rotted teeth in a grotesque smile. “There’ll be no rituals today, stupid druid!” the Slime Beholder said in a hissing, gaseous, high-pitched voice. Then one of the small eyes opened and shot a beam of gray light at him. Gwalchmai’s body was wracked in pain as he was hit by Cause Light Wounds, but he could do nothing to defend himself. He could not put the tome down until the sun’s blessing was complete and the ritual could not be interrupted.

“Hey, you!” Yshania shouted, getting the Slime Beholder’s attention as she threatened it with her scimitars. The Beholder turned and leveled an eye at her. A swish of her swords caused the small eye to close and recoil, but another eye opened, and Yshania cried out as some of the moisture began to be sucked out her body. Gwalchmai watched over his shoulder, still holding the tome. He saw Dragon Wench watching the fight too, with glazed eyes and an impassive expression. He called to her to try to snap her out of her funk, but to no avail. “What we really need,” he thought, “is a really good battle cry. I wonder why we never came up with one?”

“To Arms!” he cried, but Dragon Wench didn’t blink.

“Dark Flames, Assemble!” Still no reaction.

“Let Nature Take the Life She Gave!”

“Torm Take You!”

Then, drawing on some of his earliest memories of Dragon Wench, he yelled, “For Anomen’s Mighty Rod!” A beat of time passed, then a glint appeared in her eye, and a faint smirk played on her lips. She grasped her sword and drew the blade, which glinted in the sun. She seemed to draw breath as though for the first time. Power again coursed through her arm, filling her emotionally deflated body, and Gwalchmai almost felt sorry for poor Beholder.

[dragon wench]

At the almost forgotten cry Dragon Wench felt herself stir. Briefly she recalled the days of its use......and for a moment she felt the ghost of a smile....... She remembered the time as a relatively happy one....... Then, just as suddenly a deep and bubbling anger seized her, and with a gutteral snarl she lunged towards the beholder, her sword cutting a silvery arc in the golden light. Gripped by a rage that neither Gwalchmai nor Yshania had ever seen she screamed in savage fury and began to slash at the monster, wildly slicing into the foetid flesh.....

[Yshania]

Briefly distracted by Gwalchmai's battle cries, she was glad they had had the desired effect on Dragon Wench...this gave Yshania time to focus. Whispering frantically whilst the beholder was being held by her friend's relentless hacking, Yshania cast Chant, Defensive Harmony and Call Lightning. Gwalchmai continued, determined to complete the ritual.

The beholder screamed as the vertical bolt hit it, electrifying it, the blinding light flashing continuosly off Dragon Wench's blade. Yshania drew her scimitars and waded in. Her own battle cry a wordless roar....

[Gwalchmai]

The Beholder screamed in rage and pain, then did something that most Beholders don’t think to do: it floated a little higher in the air, pulling itself just out of reach of Dragon Wench’s sword. Dragon Wench cursed in frustration as she jumped up to try to hit it again. With this brief respite, the Beholder again turned its attention to Gwalchmai. “Blessing the Tome, eh? Then feel the unholy blessing of Moander as well!” It opened its great gash of a mouth, and gouts of dark green mist poured out, enveloping Gwalchmai in a reeking cloud.

Meanwhile, the mote of light that circled the Tome had begun spinning faster and faster. The Tome glowed warmly in the morning light that shone just over the treetops on the horizon and just under the clouds. Gwalchmai could sense that the blessing was almost complete, but then the noxious cloud hit him. The smell was horrible, like the waste dump of a slaughterhouse, only a thousand times worse. The green gas ate into his skin and seeped beneath his armour to raise painful blisters of disease. He fought the urge to double up in pain, somehow keeping the Tome held high in the morning light even though he was vomiting uncontrollably.

[Bloodstalker]

Bloodstalker walked in the direction of the keep, not at all comfortable with leaving Aegis alone to follow the tracks. Still, he could see the wisdom of telling the other's as Gwally would no doubt be involved in the performance of the ritual. Still, it bothered him more than he would have liked to admit to leave Aegis. He didn't like to think that maybe he wasstarting to get attached to these people. He didn't plan to be with them any longer than it took to get his answers and make his way back to the chamber.

The cold air bit into him, so much like the northlands he had once called home. Before he had come of age to be taken to the chamber. He stopped for a moment to let the cold pour over him, inhaling deeply to feel the familiar sting of the cold in his lungs. He loved the sensation, it made him feel vibrant and alive. Then something else bit into him. Instantly idendifiable, it caused him to catch his breath momentarily. Something was manipulating the forces, weaving and casting something, something dark. It screamed out it's presence to him as clearly as the breaking of the sun on the horizen signalled the begin of a new day. Of to his right some distance.

Bloodstalker stood in thought for a moment. He needed to get back to the keep. He decided he should get back, and tell the others. That was the sensible thing to do. No sense in rushing off alone when their were allies to be had.

Once again, he started moving. Only this time, his direction had shifted somewhat. no longer heading towards the keep, his steps took him in another direction. A glint came to his eye as he continued toward the source of what he had felt.A few minutes delay wouldn't hurt, besides, he would have a more clear picture to relate to the other's once he found what was going on.

[Yshania]

Beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder...

With exasperation, she noticed the beholder raise above the reach of their blades...'an eye thing with brains?' Stuck momentarily, her mind racing through her spell repertoire she decided on Nature's Beauty...maybe she would appear to this abominable creature as an irresistable female gauth...maybe she could tempt it down? Concentrating on her spell, she felt the flush as Nature's Beauty surged through her...but the beholder paid her no heed, it's attentions turned on Gwalchmai...

Collecting herself, and performing another quick run through, she carefully recited Dolorous Decay and was satisfied to note it's impact...seconds later the creature screamed again, before addressing Gwalchmai and releasing a cloud of gas....

[Obsidian]

Farscape came to in time to hear a call to arms. Struggling to his feet, he staggered outside to see 3 of the darkflages battling a monstrous beholder. Sheathing his sword and readying his hatchet, he wound up and threw the hatchet as hard as he could up to the top of the keep. With the beasts attention focused wholey on Gwalchmai, it didn't see the axe coming.
Striking is squarly (orbly?) in the back.
The elation was short lived as nothing happened. When he spoke the command for the axe to return nothing happend.
"Damnit, I want my axe back" Shouted Farscape. He started running for the stairs.

[dragon wench]

Furious at this beast's apparent intelligence, and at the knight whose axe had narrowly missed her shoulder, Dragon Wench backed away and muttered an incantation. Within moments a searing jet of flame tore into the beholder's putrid body, releasing a sizzling stench through the area.

The monster screamed in agony, and with a thud the embedded axe dropped to the ground. It was coated in a noxious slime, which was rapidly eating into the steel blade. Shuddering, Dragon Wench kicked the axe down the stairs after Farscape.

Still irritated, she shouted angrily after his retreating figure, "I think we have everything in hand up here."

Once again she focused on the beholder. Clearly fire had some effect on the beast. Narrowing her eyes she recited another spell, and soon a cluster of glowing orbs appeared in her hands.
She threw them rapidly at their foe, and was gratified to see the monster writhe in pain as smoke billowed upwards and the sickening sound of bursting pustules filled the air.

Just as Dragon Wench was beginning to feel that this monster had a weak point, a greenish light suddenly exploded from the beholder, enveloping them all in its glare. For several minutes they stood as if blinded. Finally, the light dissipated, but their enemy appeared to have vanished.......or at least......they could no longer see it.

A taunting voice floated above them........."the evil you can perceive is so much easier to battle isn't it........?"

[Gwalchmai]

The swirling light around the Tome of Amaunator finally stopped, leaving the book radiating a powerful warmth. The warmth traveled down Gwalchmai’s boil-covered arms and filled his body, wiping out the nausea and lending him a little strength. Painfully, for it felt as though he had held the heavy tome aloft for days, he lowered the book and clutched it to his chest. The warmth continued to expand outward, dispelling the noxious green cloud. He could see the sun clearly again, and he tried to draw strength from this, though the disease that wracked his body took its toll on him with each passing moment. “I’m going to need some healing when this is through,” he thought to himself.

He heard a familiar mystical sound above the rampart, and saw traces of a recognizable blue-white light. The Beholder, however, was nowhere to be seen. Obviously it had rendered itself invisible and was healing itself. It would be even more dangerous than before.

[Der-draigen]

Meanwhile, back in the tunnels........

The minions of the Shadow Master closed in on Der-draigen. The presence and aura of pain they effused would have been stifling to any other; any other would have been overpowered by the force of their hatred; but Der-draigen was well-armed with the same weapons, forged long ago and sharpened, honed, and perfected over many, many years....She had her own arsenal of torment to draw upon. Instead of being crushed by the minion-shadows' bitter, biting pain, she fed on it, created a terrible strength from it, and turned it against them. The reversal blew them all apart, one by one.

Well done, said the voice of the Shadow Master, and Der-draigen felt a heavy pall of rage descend in the air around her.

"What," she asked the voice. Didn't think I'd last this long? Thought your little pawns would best me? Thought you'd have it easy eh? thought you could just take what you wanted here and now without a direct confrontation...I hadn't taken you for a coward, cleric."

Something like a deep, distant growl emanated from the blackness before her.

She stepped toward the shadow. "It will take an awful lot more than little foot soldiers to take me.

"Why don't we stop this ridiculous little game," she continued. "I have what you want, so why don't you come and get it."

And very swiftly, the formless blackness seemed to congeal and advance; and the Shadow Master moved to do just that.

{NB: I'll start the battle in earnest tomorrow; I'm tired }

[Obsidian]

AS he ran up the stair he heard a loud clattering of metal ricoting off the stone walls, Farscape braced himself to meet his new foe only to have th hilt of his axe slam soundly into his head, sending him tumbling down the stairs. Several painful moments later he found himself lying on his back at the bottom. "Well then, I'll take that as a sign." Grabbing his axe he stalked off unhappily back to the kitchen.

[Bloodstalker]

Bloodstalker crouched silently, staring intently down at the tracks he had come across. his mind worked quickly as he studyed them. One set, a lone traveler, coming from the west. In and of itself, not so remarkable considering how many seemed to be passing this way recently. What disturbed him more was the fact that here, another set of tracks joined the first. Not coming from the same direction, not even coming from a differant direction. The second set appeared here, at this very spot, and headed in the direction of the keep. Looking at the size of the ffirst set, he bagan to believe Aegis's earlier assessment of Drow. The tracks were smaller that he would consider a human would have made.

It all pointed him to one conclusion. The Drow had to be a mage, and the second set had to be some kind of summoning. That would explain the vibrations he had felt coming from this area earlier. The thought of a Drow mage worried him, more so because he was beginning to suspect that this was not a single wandering wizard. The tracks came from the west, at an angle that made it highly inprobable they would be the same ones Aegis had pursued. No, this was a second being, he concluded, and probably there were more.

He let his eyes trail the smaller set as they led back into the trees. He wondered how far the mage had gone. Surely not far, as not more than a few minutes could have passed since he felt the spell. Mybe long enough to make it impossible to catch him before he had to get back to the keep. Aegis had said two hours, and Bloodstalker was resolved to return ontime.

A split second later, he knew the wizard was not that far after all. The familiar sting of a casting came to him suddenly, and just as he straightened up, the spell hit him. His arms felt almost imobile, and his every muscle screamed in protest of even the slightest movement. A Hold spell, he thought, just before he froze in place.

he stood there, not moving an inch, though the pain that coarsed through him made him want to scream. But he new he couldn't. He would have no chance killing the wizard before it got off another spell, and he could only wait.

He cursed himself mentally for allowing the Drow to hear his approach and set the ambush. And he no longer had any doubts as to his attacker being a drow, as the wizard had circled to approach him from directly in front of him, a wicked look on his face.

The drow halted just in front of Bloodstalker, and spoke something in a tounge foriegn to him. Evidently it was something he considered amusing, judging from the grin on his face. Whatever it had been, it was the last thought the Drow would ever have, as Bloodstalker moved with lightning speed and plunged Striker straight through his heart.

A stunned look crossed his face, then the blank countenence of death settled over his expression. Bloodstalker wasn't surprised, there was no way the mage could have known that the years in the chamber had rendered any spell that sought to restrict his body or dominate his will useless. Painfull as hell, yes, but useless all the same.

He plunged Striker into the snow a couple times, as much to give him time to recover from the tingle he still felt as to wipe some of the blood off, before he started for the keep. He had no thoughts of pursuing whatever had been summoned, he just knew he had to get back and warn the others.

[Yshania]

'Dammit!' cursed yshania as the beholder faded before them. 'It is playing for time' She was frustrated knowing that it was probably healing itself whilst they were unable to continue the attack. She closed her eyes and concentrated, Invisibility Purge....that would do it....though she had considered a blind attack, she could not be sure it remained where it had faded, and it's taunting words were difficult to place....

A way off to their left it started to reappear, a ghost of an image, but visible none the less. Dragon Wench resumed her attack, 'fire!' mused Ysh as she observed it screaming in pain. Another mutter and four fire seeds appeared in her hand, sure that none of her comrades were in the area, and vulnerable to this attack, she tossed the first fire seed...the seed morphed into a fireball and leapt from her hand, flying towards it's intended target in an arc. The beholder was engulfed...the stench of burning, putrid flesh turned Yshania's stomach, but she continued her attack as the creature screamed within the corona of flames...a second fire seed, then moments later, a third...

When her fourth was spent, she briefly left the beholder to Dragon Wench whilst she ran to tend Gwalchmai. He was collapsed against the stone alter, using it to support his body upright. She looked him over quickly, disease was evident. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and whispered a heal spell, hoping this would work, but she was not sure of the disease...whether it had magical properties...but the spell began closing the open sores and burns...

She turned her attention back to the beholder....

[dragon wench]

When the beholder reappeared Dragon Wench smiled grimly. Burning anger and utter frustration mingled with the aching sadness within. With a bloodcurdling yell, she aimed her remaining fire meteors at the monster, which caused it to lose focus and descend from its lofty position.

Again, the monster screamed, its rage and pain mirroring her own. Briefly, she felt a moment of compassion, but then she remembered those taunting words before it had vanished, and an agonized cry emerged from the depths of her soul.

Dragon Wench gripped her sword, and plunged it into the soft, rotting flesh. Again and again she thrust her sword, oblivious to the suffocating stench that emanated from the beholder and surrounded them.

As she drove her blade into the monster, tears coursed from her eyes, but ignoring them she continued her attack. Her sword moved rapidly, as though hastened by some inner force of its own. Repeatedly, the blade seared into the beholder's body.........

[Aegis]

The pursuit of the Drow mage did not take long for the skilled elven ranger. Aegis closed in on the dark elf, who was obviously a rogue to be on the surface world. He crept along the branches of the trees surrounding the clearing in which the mage had stopped in. The Drow was in no rush to go anywhere, and hadn't set up any protections or traps, obviously secure in his power. Aegis fitted an arrow to his bow, and carefully aimed it to the back of the mages neck. As he was about to loose the fletching, he realized his folly. He heard a snap from behind him, and the rustling of leaves. He spun, turning completly on the branch. when he saw what made the noise, he realized why the Drow mage had made no protections. A lilthe Drow warrior dropped from higher up in the tree, a wicked curved scimitar in his hand. He made one swift attack that Aegis barely avoided. The ranger loosed his arrow, sending it thudding into the chain mail of the drow, but in deep enough to knock him out of the tree. Aegis then leapt from the trees to the ground, another arrow already fitted. As he landed, he heard a wash of rustling, and watched as six more drow figures dropped from the trees, encircling the mage. Aegis knew he was in trouble.

[Gwalchmai]

Gwalchmai took a halting step forward, still clutching the tome as if it could somehow preserve his life. He found the slip of parchment and read the last step for the Dawn Ritual. Reflect as thou perceive the victory of Light over the Dark.

“Reflect…?” he thought, confused. He looked at the rising sun for a moment, pondering its ‘victory over the dark’, but his mundane mind could only think of it in terms of Nature’s balance. The night always gives way to the day, and back again. That is the way of it. There is no victory or defeat in a natural cycle. He began to despair that he was too pragmatic to complete the ritual.

He slumped against the stone altar, using it to support himself. He was getting weaker by the moment. The sounds of battle behind him were loud, but he did not have the strength to turn and look. Then, he felt a touch on his shoulder, and heard Yshania’s invocation. Tingling sensations coursed through him, and he felt whole again. He turned to thank Yshania, but she had already left to reengage the enemy.

His eye was drawn down to the altar in front of him and the three Symbols of Amaunator. The Dawn’s Light symbol, in particular, caught his eye. Picking it up, he examined the intricate carving on the face, depicting the rising sun in all its glory. The sun was positioned over a field and forest very similar to the actual view he had from the rampart. In the picture, the rays of the sun shot out and bounced at the edges of the frame. The symbol was made of an orange metal. Turning it over, he saw that the backside was highly polished. He could see his own reflection quite clearly. “Reflect…,”he muttered to himself.

The battle raged on. From his vantage, almost all he could see was a whir of flashing steel, Dragon Wench hacking like a mad woman at the Beholder, while Yshania also dealt her own blows while also avoiding Dragon Wench’s furious butchery. Suddenly, the Beholder made a desperate lunge and closed its putrid maw on Dragon Wench’s sword arm. It lifted her from the ground, and shook her like a dog shaking a rag doll. Upon release, Dragon Wench flew through the air, landing squarely on Yshania. The Beholder, hurt, bleeding acid, and full of rage, turned and opened all twenty of its magical eyes upon the women, intending to release an onslaught of lethal power.

"No!" Gwalchmai raised the Dawn’s Light symbol so that its mirrored surface could reflect the sun’s light at the monster. The light struck the mirror, and astonishingly, broke into twenty distinct beams like light through a prism. Each beam struck one of the eyes of the Beholder, blinding it with searing light. The monster roared in pain and reeled backward, falling to the stone floor of the rampart. Many eyes blinked and moved uncontrollably; the Beholder was temporarily blinded.

[Yshania]

Temporarily winded, Yshania laboriously dragged in deep lung fulls of the icy air to shock her system back into working. Realising the beholder was about to strike, (and knowing her intentions would render her friend invisible) she grabbed the other woman's arm and invoked a hand full of pixie dust. Throwing the glittering powder into the air, she whispered 'whatever you do, stay your sword!' Instantly, the party of friends disappeared from view. She leapt up, pulling Dragon Wench with her, and ran some distance away from where they had fallen, anticipating a possible blind attack on where they had laid.

As the mass of burned flesh hit the floor of the rampart, Yshania informed her friend 'We have a chance to prepare now, it will only see us if we attack...but we have the advantage of first move' She could no longer see her own comrades...she hoped Dragon Wench was not too badly hurt from the beholder's attack...she guessed the other woman would be oblivious to it anyway.

Taking the brief opportunity, Yshania decided to summon. Knowing that the results were random, she was hoping that some god was with them this day....She smiled to herself as she heard the words bellow like a raging pyre, sucking in all the oxygen to feed it's hunger...

'Who calls Zaaman Rul, Prince of Fire?' Opening her eyes, she observed with satisfaction as the elemental prince advanced on the grounded beholder, with great swiping attacks.

'His visit will be brief' she whispered to Dragon Wench 'we must take our chance while we can'...

[Mysteria]

Once inside the kitchen, Mysteria helped Fang and herself to some breakfast and sat down in a quiet corner. Absentmindedly munching a piece of bread, she let he gaze wander across the room.

Dragon Wench and Jerren had finally come down to the kitchen and Mysteria felt that she should apologize for barging into their room. Suddenly, Dragon Wench abruptly left the room, Jerren following her with his eyes, then closed them. Mysteria decided that this was a bad time to try any apologies.

Her eyes now fell on Nippy and she noticed that Thantor had come into the room as well and was presently helping him. Thantor... She had still difficulties to associate the man she saw with the boy she remembered. Her mind now wandered back to those days. She had never paid much attention to Thantor or, as he was called at that time, Loopy.

Looking at him as he tended Nippy's wounds, she realized how lonely he must have felt at that time and suddenly wished she had been kinder to him. She had not really taking part in mocking him, but she hadn't done anything to prevent it either. She tried telling herself that she had only been a girl at that time, but she still felt that she should have done something.

She wondered how he had managed to become what he was now. The day she ran away, nothing had hinted that he could change in this way. A ranger devoted to Mielikki, she mused. She could well understand why he had become a ranger like herself. After the way they had treated him in the village, it was all too understandable why he had chosen the lonely life of a ranger. Alone in the wild, there was no one who would hurt you, who would make you feel your difference. At that point, she did no longer know if she was thinking of Thantor or herself.

And now he would try to help her, who had not tried to help him then. We change, she thought, life makes us change. She desperately hoped that he would indeed find a way to help her.

She had not been lonely by choice, but by necessity. More people only meant more feelings and more feelings only let to more magical incidents. The little time she had spent in the keep had only shown her this again. As she had been on a rollercoaster of feelings, her magic had run wild. Fear, hope, determination, surpris, desolation, she had been thrown from one extreme into the other.

And then, there was Gatok, a sorcerer. Her thoughts now drifted to the possible impacts his presence could have onto her life. He had offered to help her, but she still doubted that he could be of much help to her. Others had tried before and all had failed. As long as her magic and her feelings where thus enmeshed, any attempt at controlling her magics results were bound to be extremely difficult, if not impossible.

Suddenly, she remembered that most still didn't know about her magic. Thantor had promised to tell them, but he seemed lost in thought now that he had healed Nippy's wounds. Jerren had somehow disappeared and now T'Lainya came into the kitchen. Mysteria got up and took two mugs of the strong coffee Vivien had made. She offered one to Thantor and then they listened to what T'Lainya told them about her vision of the weave.

So, there was a reservoir of energy beneath the keep, perhaps that was an additional reason why her magic was even weirder than normally, Mysteria thought. If the evil was feeding on this power just beneath the keep, this could also explain why Georgi was abducted that way.

Hearing T’lainya speaking about the weave, the choking web of her nightmare came back to her mind. She wondered why she should dream being tied up in this web the way she did. Had it only been a false vision sent by the Shadow Master or some other evil being or was there some truth in it?

Somehow, she felt that she had joined a bigger quest and that she would spent quite some time helping to bring it to an end. She really needed to tell them about her magic.

She shot Thantor a pleading look, but he was listening to T'Lainya. Perhaps it would be better to tell them herself, after all. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she opened her mouth to tell them. But at the last moment, her courage faltered, she had seen too many people turn on her once they knew her secret.

"So, what are we going to do now?", she asked instead, angry with herself for not having the courage to speak openly, hoping more fervently than ever that Thantor would tell them.

[Aegis]

As soon as the elven ranger saw the coterie of drow drop from the trees to assist the mage, Aegis sprang into action, loosing his arro at the nearest one while rolling to the side. Even in the midst of the complicated manouvre, the ranger struck the surprised drow in the forehead, sending one of their numbers to the ground before the real fight even had begun. The mage acted instinctly, his hands raised, and forming the twisted symbols and chanting the arcane tongue of magic. Aegis completled the roll, and sprung back to his feet, dropping his bow in the process. In the same fluid movement, Sunfang was in his hand, and was already on a deadly path towards another drow. The dark elves, though, had already orgainized, and Aegis' attack was struck to the side, and a counter was already on it's way. Aegis sidestepped, barely missing the blade. Before the drow could continue, Aegis stopped, and reversed the motion, stepping into close proximity to the drow, Sunfang lowered towards the drows stomach. He felt the cold resistence of the drow chain mail as the magical blade sunk through the metal, and into the abdomen of the dark elf. He didn't stop to watch the drow die. He spun on his heel to meet the other four drow fighters and the mage. the mage! He sprang to the side just as a magical bolt of lightening blasted past him. He hit the ground with a thud, his face contorted in pain. He grimaced at the pain in his arm that the magic had caused, but shrugged it off for now. He roleld back to his feet, and charged the drow warriors, his blade a wave of motion. The drow parried every attack easily, and deftly knocked aside any attack made by the elven ranger. Behind the group, the mage began a new incantation...