Sorry for being away from the thread so long. I was hooked on a long thread on the Shadows of Amn board, and it took me a while to read. Then I got interrupted while I was writing...(sigh)
@Fas: In a more gentle way, yes
I just thought I’d poke fun at you for a while. No offense intended. Everybody makes mistakes, including yours truly
BTW, Ribald? Is the name similarity coincidental? Also, I think Xandax’s character would be more than annoyed if you told him that Faisal felling the dwarf was merely a stroke of luck
@Aegis: I’m sure Raistlin would cause chaos, but civil war is something different entirely. That involves the plots and intrigue of many. That’s why I’m slowly revealing the guild leaders and their subordinates. They’ll be critical players in this little drama.
@Xandax: You’ve probably got it. Remember that a good deal of time passed between the two posts. And keep in mind that the party had a lot of off time recently.
*****
The newly arrived wizard looks around in astonishment. Blood forming in pools from the fallen. Scorch marks in the wall. The ceiling in one area completely caved in. A bar fight raging around him, though the sight of the luminescently-garbed wizard quickly quiets that. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a few bloodied adventurers slipping out the door. But his eyes come to rest on the mage in red. Blood red. He stands amidst the carnage, unshaken and imposing.
“What has happened here? Are you the cause of this chaos?” the wizard says, his melifluous voice reaching the ears of all, commanding attention.
“Ah...you must be Magus,
hero of Athkatla” the red-robed mage sneers. “I had wondered if the tall tales of your prowess were true...guess not.”
Magus senses the great power within this man. He couldn’t let himself be baited into a spell battle. It would surely destroy the Copper Coronet and everyone inside it, and likely even more...if he could even win. It had been a long time since Magus had felt such power...dark memories of Raistlin, a decade ago, come rushing back. No, fighting now was not an option.
Perhaps he could draw out some information from the obviously vain man. “Who are you, that you wield such powerful magics...” Magus pries flatteringly, motioning to the surrounding destruction, and then staring at the mage intently.
“Don’t you wish you could know...” the mage speaks with a smile.
I am Lazal the Red, and you along with this city of fools shall soon feel my wrath... Magus detects psionically.
Lazal’s eyes widen as he realizes the trick. His mind slams shut.
“YOU...” Lazal fumes, pointing his finger at Magus.
Damn, Magus thinks. This wasn’t good...
Lucklily, Lazal calms down. He smiles. “Ah...I should have known better, you of many talents. But I know your kind’s ways, and you couldn’t have pried far without me sensing it. You know nothing. And you are no threat to me, Magus, mark my words. I know your purpose here, and know that you can’t stop the inevitable, fool.”
With that, he teleports away, the previous inconsequential battle gone from his mind. He had more important matters to deal with.
*****
Magus still knows little after the fruitless encounter.
Void, did you have any more success?
I didn’t want to risk detection. But revenge and the Cowled Wizards were on his mind as he left.
This man was dangerous. He wondered if he should warn the Cowled Wizards. Then again, why should he? He was certainly no friend of theirs, and one man couldn’t do much against an entire organization, could he? No matter. But secrecy was a weapon, and Magus wouldn’t leave without some answers.
“You there! Yes, you! What do you know of the reb-robed mage that just left?” Magus asks a nearby mage, an apprentice by his looks.
“N-nothing much, milord...” he stammers, obviously overwhelmed. Magus’s frown quickly loosens his tongue. “H-his name is Derlaz. He was part of the adventuring group, the Bleeding Hammer. That’s all I know, I swear,” the man hurriedly adds.
“What happened here?” Magus presses.
“N-nothing much, milord. A drow came through and caused quite the stir. The Bleeding Hammer were sitting at the table over there, and got up to go after him. B-but Derlaz...”
“What, what about him?” Magus asks impatiently.
“There was this wave of power...all the mages felt it. Derlaz has never been one to mess with, but never did he emanate such power. It frightened us, it did. It was quickly gone, but we FELT it. And during the fight...his magic grew more and more powerful.”
“What caused the fight?”
“A-a gentleman at the bar asked them something. Then somebody comes out of nowhere, knife striking toward the guy’s back. Then all Hell broke loose. A friend of the man bashed the guy with the knife over the head with a chair and ran up the stairs. Then this elf comes running in like a blasted cheetah...and, and-“
“That’s enough.” Magus says, cutting him off, and the apprentice lets out a sigh of relief. “Did any of these two people fighting this adventuring group escape?”
“Yes, sir. I think I saw them leave when you came. They were pretty badly hurt. The elf went after them.”
“Thank you. Here, a gold piece for your trouble.” The apprentice gapes in astonishment. When he looks up, Magus has vanished.
*****
Hopefully these two guys fighting the Bleeding Hammer would have more answers about Lazal, or Derlaz as he seemed to be known. They must not have been your ordinary drunkards to have lasted for any breadth of time against what seemed to be a powerful and well known adventuring group. And this elf that ran like a cheetah...what was his involvement in this mess?
The babbling man said they were badly hurt. Perhaps they went to see a healer?
Magus turns wearily towards Void. In the sunlight outside the Copper Coronet, he looks like some strange mirage, or perhaps part of a low-lying cloud. Except for those red, glowing eyes. Finding the bright sunlight uncomfortable, he drifts away to find a shadowy and less unpleasant spot.
“Yes, the temple of Ilmater up there would be a good place to start,” Magus mutters, shielding his face with his hand as he looks up at it. Blasted daylight. He much preferred the softer light of his home.
Deciding not to tempt the wrath of the Cowled Wizards, Magus climbs the long, rickety staircase leading to the inn’s roof, then walks to the temple’s entrance, instead of just teleporting about as is his wont. No need to strain already tense relations, though he’s sorely tempted. He enters the door of the temple and goes to speak to the head cleric.
*****
Xandax’s mullings are interrupted by voices outside the door.
“Magus, milord, the young lad within was gravely injured. When the priest finishes he’ll need his rest.”
“I’ll only be a moment, good sir. But I must speak with him.”
“Very well. Please try to be brief.”
The door opens, and in comes none other than the teleporting mage from the Copper Coronet! Xandax instinctively tries to rush to his feet, but his exhausted body won’t obey. It doesn’t matter anyway. He is tired of fighting.
“Well, young warrior, looks like the day hasn’t been kind to you,” Magus says with a small smile. His voice is soothing and pleasing to the ear, and all feelings of hostility seem to fade away.
Things just keep getting weirder and weirder, Xandax thinks with a sigh. Then he notices the two red, disembodied eyes floating over his head...
*****
@Xandax: Were you right? See the little word-play in his name? Remind you of, oh say, Koveras?
I wonder how your first encounter with Void will go...