Sorry, all. I like to write. Another long one. I'm going to make a big jump to conclude this soon. At this point, most of the shadow thieves and paladins are off to hit Aegis' Heart in a diversionary move. Aerie and Magus now stand with Rail, fallout, Flagg, Keldorn, and Aran. (did I leave anyone out?
), waiting for word of the diversion so they can teleport into the Temple of Lathander and from there get into the Heart to confront Aegis and Co.
“You’ve formulated a plan, then? Could you explain our individual parts in more detail before we reach the point of no return?" Magus stared at the assassin expectantly, as one did an equal, and the assassin shifted his stance uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
Rail kept his gaze firmly on the mage, though.
I'm NOT going to trust him, Rail thought, though he seemed to be trying to convince himself.
He, too, will eventually fall, though not by my hand. The last thought shocked him. For the first time, he realized he harboured no ill feelings toward the man. Despite the fact that Rail felt he had been carefully forced into current circumstances ever since the first time he chose to enter the Rift, Rail considered Magus, a mage of no small power, both an ally and a friend.
With level eyes, Rail smiled. It was an old smile, not as warm as it once was, but the assassin was out of practice. "We've been through this before, Magus." Rail looked around the room, nodding at both Keldorn and Aran equally. "I think all of us have."
"Just give us the damn mages," Flagg grunted, again spitting on the floor in exclamation. It was a wonder there wasn't a puddle surrounding the surly dwarf.
"Aye," Keldorn agreed. His eyes were weary, but the rest of his expression was one of grim determination.
"So be it!" Aran rose from his chair, striding over to one of the chamber walls. Removing an amulet from an inner pocket, he held it toward the blank wall and muttered a phrase under his breath. One section of the wall swung inward, revealing a room full of glitter and dust. Several bookshelves and tables contained scrolls and tomes of seemingly every imaginable size and shape. Baubles and trinkets of varying precious metals and gems littered the place, as if they had been hurredly thrown in there and abandoned. All manner of valuables, from ornate jewelry of all kind to gem-encrusted scabbards, were scattered haphazardly throughout the room.
Aran strode into the treasurehouse with an ever-so-slight glance over his shoulder.
Keldorn frowned. "This stuff is stolen?"
Aran didn't respond, walking over to a set of shelves and pulling out a few select scrolls.
The Praelit's scowl deepened. He recognized several of the items. "More loot from nobles and temples, I see."
Aran turned toward the paladin, a slightly amused look on his face. After a moment, the master thief snorted derisively. "You do your job, paladin. We'll do ours."
"We will discuss this later, thief." The disdain and contempt dripped from the Praelit's words.
Aran nodded, turning to open a drawer full of jewelry. "Yes," he responded unconvincingly. "We will."
"Bah!" fallout snorted. "Let's get going! The others should be hitting the Heart any minute."
Keldorn turned respectfully toward Magus, seeming putting the Shadow Thief out of his mind. "This mage...," Keldorn began, but he paused, seemingly unable to find exactly the words he wanted to say.
Magus understood and shook his head grimly. "No, I cannot match his magic but for a moment."
Keldorn nodded. "It is as I figured." The Praelit looked over at Rail questioningly, but said nothing.
The assassin drew his blade. "It doesn't matter." His voice was as a man walking calmly to the gallows, but his smile still held a touch of remembered warmth.
As if on cue, a wind seemed to flow into the still chamber. On the wind, a whisper of a voice could be heard. "By Torm...," the rest was cut off abruptly.
Keldorn's brow creased in concern. That was not how the message was supposed to go.
"No matter," Rail nodded toward Magus, who was stowing a number of scrolls Aran had handed him.
The mage gathered up the arcane power around him and wove the spell, whisking the group off to the Temple of Lathander, where they would begin their assault on the Broken Heart.
* * *
As the light began to fade from the undead preparation room, the deceased paladin suddenly gasped a painful breath of air, fists clenched at his side, as a cold and steady light filled his once sealed eyes. Not a illumination, per se, but more as light distantly remembered. With the light came purpose.
* * *
Rail eased from the shadows of the dusty tunnel into the library of the once-Radiant Heart. Istantly, he knew something was wrong. He should have been able to hear the remnants of the battle fought elsewhere in the Heart. Instead there was only unnatural silence. Like a spider.
Void interrupted his thoughts.
You are wise to be cautious, silent one.
Somewhere, from the back of Rail's mind, laughter rose, but the assassin squeezed it out of his thoughts.
Thanks, Misty, the assassin shot back sarcastically. Wordlessly, he motioned the rest of the group to join him in the study.
Hands holding weapons to eliminate as much noise as possible, the others crept in among the ancient bookcases of the venerable study.
Rail silently slid to the doorway and tested the air. Only distant light and faint echos greeted him. Still, he couldn't help but feel his skin crawl. Every instinct seemed to scream that something was wrong, but there was no other choice to be made. For the first time, he was hunting mages for something other than vengeance, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was hunting or trapping that was being performed.
Gritting his teeth, he led the group out into the shadowy hallway and on toward the inner chambers of the Broken Heart. Toward a waiting Aegis and Raistlin.
Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
