The RETURN to the Tomb of SIMORP Notes,journal
entries by DR's Firebrand / Dr MONTI.
Scratch - 12:49am Feb 4, 2001 PST

Character roster:

Master Hamfast Halfling, Tech inclined
TIM & JIM 2 slow (slightly thick) ORC bodyguards
Dr Renor Firebrand Dwarf Master Tech
Dr Johsirus Monti Half/Elf Master Mage
Mr Perinio Nostrimani Half orc of noble heart
Miss Jacinta RIST Of the house of Scratch Mage inclined
MR Doromond Delari Half elf Neutral user of both Magic and TECH
MASTER : Tanuvein 'Dweller' ELF MAGE (, Earth, Water, Air and Force.)
DR Stanislo Repkin Gnome, master trader, liberator and assessor
Oxo Halfling Tech (Uncle to Hamfast)
Oro Halfling Mage (Uncle to Hamfast)

The RETURN to the Tomb of SIMORP Notes and journal entries by both DR
Firebrand, Dr MONTI and from the Journals of Tanuverein,Doromond,Hamfast as well
as notes found in the Tomb of Simorp

CHARECTERS ARE WRITTEN BY

Tanuvein: as himself and Graylor and many others
Vikram Thanki: as Doromond and others
Oyarsa: as Himself, Hamfast, Oxo, ORO, Various Halflings and others
Nollidj: as Ghent and others
Scratch: as almost every one else..

PART 1

DAY 1

THE JOURNEY BEGINS

Dear party members

A note of point.
YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT 64 -65 ORKISH ROAD SOUTH TARANT BY 4PM YESTERDAY.
WHERE ARE YOU. !

DR Firebrand and my other adventures waited till 6pm but since you chose not to
arrive. (Although the instructions where quite clear in the contract). We set
off.
Hopping to meet you at POINT LUX tomorrow (5th)..

DR MONTI (This note was left with me to post.)

NIGHT OF DAY ONE.

From the east I saw a lone figure walks, the sun shadowing his figure. As he
comes closer, his elven form is distinguishable, if his details are blurred.
After several more moments, he comes upon the hired band. He stands tall, for an
elf, and holds out his letter.

He is wearing plain, green woolen forest clothes with soft heeled boots. His
features are breath takingly handsome, if hard and cold, as though he wears an
iron mask. His eyes are fully silver, with no white. His long, blue hair hangs
at a point between his shoulder blades. A cloak is tossed over his shoulder do
to the exceptionally warm weather. At his hip is a longsword, and a golden,
gemmed dagger. He speaks in a litling, sing song voice.* "I was supposed
to meet others here. I presume those others are you?"

Later that night a young, unassuming-looking half-elf can be seen approaching
the group of adventurers a while later, almost unnoticed until he got close
enough to get a good look at him. He is slightly short and lean for his kind,
and his features remarkably average. He is wearing simple travelling clothes
underneath a loose-fitting chainmail coat, though he is well equipped, wearing a
sword on his left hip, a dagger on his high, a pistol on his right hip, and a
short rifle in his right hand. With an indiscernible look in his amber-colored
eyes, he reaches out with his left hand, holding out a letter.

*
"Dr. Monti and company, I presume?" he said in a quiet voice, looking over the
band of adventurers. After a brief pause, he continued. "My apologies for being
late. I was...laid up on my way to what was to be our meeting place, and by the
time I got there,you had already left. Anyways, I am Doromond Delari, pleased to
be working with you." He punctuated his sentence with a short bow.

I of course introduced them to the rest of the party and we spoke into the night
about the coming adventure.

Later that night as I hoped Tanuvein was able to shed some light on the
parchment we recovered on the first mission.

It seems that it is in a long forgotten language and has something to do with
binding and losing objects, persons and things magical..

I hope to hear more later. Surfice it to say we now believe that SIMORP had
intended to use it after the transformation to aid in recovery.

(SENT BY CARRIER PIGEON TO SCRATCH)

DAY 2

EVENTS IN THE NIGHT

Two strange events last night, around 8 ish while still light I will describe
the events:

A halfling courier riding ponyback comes into view of the party. He reins in his
mount, studies the group, and spurs the pony to a swift trot.

"Dr. Monti, I presume? The Master of Buckland Estates dispatched me to deliver
this message." A standard courier's parchment changes hands.

The scroll states simply that Hamfast will rendezvous with the party at the same
location as the previous foray. Furthermore, he will be leading a pack pony with
extra supplies.

And :

After this event later that night Tanuvein agreed to look at the document and
had walked over to Dr. Monti, standing beside him silently the good Dr had given
him the scroll, and I could see he was attempting to read it, his eyes glazed
over and looked sharp with intelligence and he seems to understand the words he
read.

He read the words slowly almost hesitantly, and a few of the words, he admitted,
are poorly translated. Then suddenly a light seemed to dawn and he said. 'Yes, I
understand.' He said suddenly, and looking towards the party said. 'There are
not enough of us.' That was all he would say that night, apart from. 'It is best
we speak of these things in daylight.'

We have finally got from Tanuvein what the scroll contains. I will not write it
here (in correct language), for fear that I may do something.

Tanuvein spent 2 hours with DR Monti before they would explain the scroll, and
Dr Monti stated that we would have to visit Brother Nikko's monastery before we
continued on our journey.

It seems the scroll is an invocation of binding that has three parts.

First it binds areas. (This must have been the part that was read in the tomb.

Second it binds powers and objects to persons and places. Third Tanuvein says
that it invokes certain Gods and certain things form the underworld and then....

Well Tanuvein was silenced by Monti (gently) with the word. "MERCY". At which
Tanuvein, looked slightly sad.. (for an elf), although I think it was a burden
from ages past that quickly crossed his face.

We broke camp and headed to the monastery, while Dr Monti, Jacinta Tim and
Perinio went on to Buckland estates to pick up young Hamfast.

We arrived at the monastery near sunset, while the rest of the party (including
Hamfast) arrived round 9, having previously agreed to all meet here before
journeying off tomorrow.

Tanuvein seemed uncomfortable in the monastery so decided to join Stanislo who
had refused to enter preferring to sleep outside. Dr Monti attempted to speak
with Brother Nikko, and the abbot and I did not see him tonight at all.

Meanwhile our party rests, gathers their courage and will continue tomorrow.

Taken From the journals of Tanuvein,Monti, Firebrand as well as the writtings of
Hamfast and Delari

EARLY EVENING OF DAY 2/EARLY MORNING DAY 3.

REMEMBERANCES IN PAIN

Another uneventful day, and another uneventful evening watch, Doromond thought,
as he threw down his bedroll and laid down to go to sleep.

It was just past midnight, according to the pocket watch he had set down by his
head. Something's not right about this though, the half-elf told himself. After
all, this Simorp was a lich, and a pretty powerful one at that,according to his
employer. Among other things, that meant he had most likely divined the fact
that the group was coming.

Why then, had their journey thus far been this simple?
Had Doromond been in his place, he would have done everything in his power to
ensure that this group would never even reach his tomb alive.
Perhaps he has plans he considers more urgent?
Few things could indeed be important enough to warrant more attention than a
group of adventurers who intended to send him into the void he had evaded for so
long, but whatever it was, it could only mean bad things if he succeeded in
these plans.

Nonetheless, I can't complain, he thought. After all, it is paying work, and
that's in fairly short supply these days. And, of course, I'm doing a good deed
by helping to make sure that this creature's plans never come to fruition, which
always helps.

With that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

His sleep, sadly, was not to be a peaceful one, as he was again haunted by
nightmarish memories of his days as a factory slave in Tarant. He had just been
eleven years old at the time. His human mother had passed away a mere two months
before his being captured by slavers there, and his elven father had simply
disappeared without a trace some three years
before that.

While slavery was officially illegal in Tarant, it was hardly a deterrent to a
number of factory owners whose greed far outweighed their respect for morals or
law, and for the unscrupulous slavers who rounded up poor people, such as the
young Doromond, off the streets and sold them to the factories.

The work was brutally hard, being expected to labor over the machines that
processed tobacco 20 hours out of every day, on only meager rations of bread,
water, and occasionally, if the factory slaves were lucky, a small bowl of soup.

They were also subjected to regular beatings, and would be burned with hot irons
if they fell behind on production. Doromond's back and arm still bore faint
marks of where he was so tortured, and now the memories of the pain he felt as
the clubs were applied to his body, and the irons were pressed against his skin,
were all flooding back into his unconscious mind.

He could feel the hunger, the near-exhaustion, and the desperation as he had
prayed for death every day, all as clearly as that time of his life. And all the
while, in the back of his mind, he could swear he had heard a sadistic, derisive
laugh, one that sounded all too familiar to him.

Then he remembered the day of his miraculous escape, two years later, and nearly
six years ago this day. One of the tobacco machines had exploded, spreading fire
across the factory.

The factory owner and the slave overseer had both fled in panic almost
immediately afterward, leaving the slaves, most of them children, to
Providence's mercy in that inferno.

A number of the slaves had already burned to death in the inferno, and the rest
of them were all scrambling toward the nearest exit as fast as they could,
pushing and shoving each other aside, trampling over the fallen bodies of their
comrades-in-suffering in sheer desperation, hoping to escape not only death, but
servitude as well.

The memories of that day were particularly vivid, each scream of pain from the
dying feeling like a dagger thrust into Doromond's body.

He could remember being thrown backwards by an orc, landing by another machine,
one that was dangerously close to the expanding fire. Knowing very well that his
life was in danger, the young half-elf quickly climbed to his feet and ran as
fast as he could, away from the imperiled machine, but it was too late, and he
had landed too close.

The machine exploded, throwing him across the building like a rag doll, as
visions of what had been his past, and what might have been his future, all
flashed through his mind.

The blast had thrown the light half-elf clear through one of the factory
windows, the broken glass shards biting at his chest through the filthy, worn-
out shirt he wore.

The laughter that had been echoing in his head the entire time now rose to a
near-deafening level.

At that very instant, Doromond woke up from the nightmare with a gasp, soaking
in sweat from head to waist. After the reality of his actual surroundings had
set in, he sighed and picked up the watch by his bedroll.

5 AM.

With another sigh, he climbed to his feet and dressed himself, also putting on
some of his extra equipment, and then walked outside his tent.

Tanuvein and Dr. Firebrand, who had apparently been assigned to take the early
morning watch, paid him little heed as he slipped away from the camp some
distance, coming to a nearly empty area. Finally, his anger at breaking point,
he took a deep breath, and screamed at the heavens.

"Damn you, Trevorson! DAMN YOU, TO THE DEEPEST REACHES OF PURGATORY!!"

His grievances so released, he returned to the camp, acting as though nothing
had happened.

DAY 3

A PARTY UPDATE:

UNKNOWN to the party, the events with Scratch have taken a turn for the worse He
is sick and cannot resuply the party as expected.

SIMORP was quite aware of the nature of the mission.

Having cut off the parties only visible means of support (Scratch, now ill in
Tarant), and not knowing they had already been well privisioned before they
left. SHE has sent some Dire wolves, Manti and Scorpion to delay the party long
enough, so as to better prepare Her Lair for their arrival, (Still some 6 days
off).

However things do not go smoothly for your party, Vikram Thanki is troubled by
dreams, Tanuvein is worried by the unread parts of the scroll and searches for a
way to decipher it.

DR Firebrand has found problems with 2 of his arachnoid's and wounders how that
could have happened.

DR Monti has noticed that one of his most precious book is in the proccess of
decay. (Some strange fungi have attatched themselves to the leather bindings and
hides the book is written on).

Young Hamfast and Jacinta (well nothing is wrong wiTh them, but they deserve a
mention)

Finally DR Stanislo & Mr Perinio don't seem to be able to get on... NO NOT AT
ALL, there appears to be some bad blood (of some sort) , between them, although
they hide it well.

DAY 3

TRAVEL RESUMES

We left the Monastery early this morning, after the Abbott gave us so vials of
Holy Water, a quick blessing and Taught DR Monti a prayer of supplication to the
Greater Gods.

We found Stanislo and Tanuvein asleep outside, (well not really asleep, more
resting than sleeping), and packing out bags we made off.

STRANGE:: I had only just put down this pen and record when we were attacked
(WITHOUT WARNING) by 40 Dire wolves.

They came out of no where (that's all I can say), One minute we were on our own
traveling the well-worn path, the next the Dire wolves attacked.

The attack was so sudden that even our brave Elves were surprised.

Tanuvein summoned his forces providing a FORCE wall between the animals and the
attackers, meanwhile I unlimbered my trusty pistol, and Hamfast his, Jacinta
summoned and ORC Guardian and DR Monti opened a HELL GATE.

Our brave Gnome hid behind the pack animals while Tim and JIM just waded in, and
Perinio let fly with his flail.

I watched out the corner of my eye as Tanuvein disintegrated creature after
creature. And Doromond you say, what was he doing. I tell you now but for that
brave soul we would have lost Jacinta.

The creatures seemed to head for her first and Doromond interposed himself
between them and her, Tanuvein and Perinio noticed this and rushed to assist.

Poor Doromond was injured for his plight, (only minor) but I have no doubt that
the young miss would have left us if not for him.

The battle took minutes to complete (With Master Mages and TECH's you would
expect no less), and we counted the bodies.

It was then that our GNOME rushed forward and proceeded to disembowel one of the
corpses savagely, DR Monti and myself where about to reprimand him when he
shouted.

"LOOK.. LOOK. I KNEW IT... I KNEW IT", pointing to something he had found within
the creature body.

We when over and looked.

I was shocked, Tanuvein and Doromond look quizzically at each other, Jacinta and
the rest looked puzzled. It was then that Tanuvein pointed to a strange metal
colored pigment that filled the creatures stomach.

The Stench was overpowering and as we stepped back, the creatures that lay
around us suddenly burst into flames, consuming all record of there even being
in existence. "WHAT DID YOU SEE" I said over the roar of the flames.

'MAGE WORK' shouted back our Gnome, "AND TECH WORK TOGETHER" he said.

We were just about to continue the discussion when another attack happened.

MANTI appear out of no where and attacked.

This time we were better prepared, and we decimated the creatures before they
had time to fully attack.

10 of them... and they too burst into flames after their death... ALSO Dr Monti
reports that they cannot be charmed.

Tanuvein suspect a Portal (although not skilled in that field he has seen them
work before).

We all suspect our goal of these problems but have nothing concrete to base this
on (all our evidence having vanished in flames.

IT was just as well the combat finished then for our mages were VERY weary. I
had to administer a restorer to our friends

Day 3 Afternoon

A PROBLEM IN TRANSLATION (

Blood..... and ^%%^$^)^$ then they came ^%$$@^%) *(& and attacked...
*^^#(*)&^*&> I was at a loss as to why ^*^& did not respond, he just stood
there, &*^$^%*(()*&%$^%^..

Hes ok but why did %Y$^%*($^())...

****
DEAR Friends

The last message from our brave adventures is, as can be seen a mess.

I will try to decipher the message before I again post it.

(IT seems that SCRATCH has not given me the full code for these cypher
messages.)

ALL is not well, Dire wolves have been see on the outscirts of Tarant and
numerous travlers report attacks on passing trade.

I cannot belive that this is all from some small accident of fate, the finding
of the tomb, the awakening of SIMORP and Scratches ilness.

I have sent bodyguards to the BUCKLAND estates and advised all our couriers to
take extra supplies with them on any mission.

The problem is that SCRATCH is unwell, and he is the only one who can authorise
release of Both myself and Professor Hennimor to watch over our staff.

While Johnnothan and I could both run the buisness easly, only Scratch knows all
the house cyphers. I look to Johnnothan to find a cure for Scratch so that we
may send reenforcements to help our adventures (if needed).

Professor Albert Namigi (HOUSE MAGE)

Day 3

MESSAGES FROM THE FRONT

(TRANSLATION OF PREVIOUS MESSAGE)

After the last fight we could not get quickly enough away from the area. We
moved quickly, gathering whatever we could and after scouring the area we moved
off towards the long road to Stillwater.

Tim and Jim made the trail blazing easy as we moved towards our next goal of
White Hills.

That's when it happened, suddenly , again out of nowhere appeared 20 desert
scorpions. They attack without warning and the Blood flowed freely as they
caught us unaware.

Perinio and Doromond guarded Jacinta and Hamfast while Monti and I attacked,
Tanuvein and Stanislo rushed over to seal the gap between the party as Jim and
Tim came back form point.

Then they came most adult, a few immature youngsters on the outside of the
group, and they attacked leaving nothing standing in there wake as they bowled
over small shrubs and trees in there attempt to get to the party.

I look over our party and saw all of us fighting for our lives, I called to
Hamfast to close ranks, I was at a loss as to why Hamfast did not respond, he
just stood there, pistols in hand, blood flowing from an open cut on his right
side.

We were all wounded, and once again the bodies disintegrated after death,
Jacinta and Monti spent three hours tending to the needs of the party

Hamfast, hes ok but why did he ignore my instructions ?

Tanuvein says he has the answer and Stanislo agrees with him, he believes that
Hamfast and Jacinta where charmed by something unseen.

We set camp after the last attack and set wards as well as forcefields and set
the Arachnids out.

DAMN the arachnids are faulty... Something has damaged them.... Monti came over
with one of his most precious books, it seems that it's suddenly decaying.
Doromond says nothing but appears troubled.

Well I've always hear it said 'It never rains it pours"

I sent one of our cipher messages to Scratch asking him to make sure we can re
supplied in White Hills and asking for at least 2 more party members.

DAY 4

NIGHT IS FOR SLEEP ?

A restless nights sleep.

We are determined to complete the mission, although we all hope that the message
to scratch got through.

Tanuvein surprised us all by saying he knows some people in White hills and may
be able to get us more companions. Hamfast is still unwell and Monti says that
he will be better by tomorrow.

I managed to fix the arachnids (after much work), at lunch today, and Hamfast
was sufficiently well to take interest in their structure and design.

After lunch we continued our travels and White hills, passing near where we had
destroyed the cave entrance on our last adventure. Luckily for us no trouble
today.

Posted night guards.

DAY 5

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

Today we make White hills .

The party has finally recovered from the knowledge that we MUST have been
attacked by SIMORP.

AS yet we cannot explain how she knows where we are, but it is obvious She is
behind our problems.

Had lunch near a streambed.

DAMN again we are attacked, Giant ANTS broke out from the ground, swarming over
to attack.

Again they went for Jacinta first.

I finally saw my first Earth and Fire Spirits today as Tanuvein summoned the
creatures, and Monti summoned a Hell Gate and then an OGRE guard.

It seems Jacinta has been paying attention as she to summoned and ORC champion.

The rest of the party unlimbered their weapons and proceeded to fight. The blows
from the creatures came thick and fast, knocking Stanislo of his feet while
Doromond and Perinio have come to an understanding about Just who is Jacinta's
guard.

In the end they decided that they BOTH would assume the responsibility. (I thing
Doromond sees potential in Jacinta )

Tim and JIM , as usual, just waded into the fray. Hamfast snapped out of his
Malay and managed to kill 4 creatures with excellent marksmanship. (He later
admitted his father had paid a professional trainer to assist him) wise man.

We cut through the beast and attempted to get into more open area.

I throw some Grenades I had with me over the top of the leading animals, towards
the oncoming mod.

Perinio and his swords made a definite impression on the beasts while Doormond
cast what I though of as a Fire spell at the creatures, then proceeded to shoot
the burning animals.

IT was then that it all stopped, well not all, we continued to attack, but the
creature movements and actions suddenly became halted, slowed to the point where
we could easily avoid there strikes.

Needless to say we decimated the remaining creatures and finishing the job (the
combat took about 5 minutes). Time seemed to regain its momentum.

I noticed that DR Monti lay in the midst of the creatures so I rushed over to
him (to be beaten by Tanuvein) who shouted. 'Its alright Hes ok, merle passed
out'

I believe we all sighed with relief.

We were surprised that the bodies remained , and examining one discovered that
they were natural to the area. SO we continued to White hills and rest.

We made White hills before dusk and stayed at the Loyal Toast again. Tomorrow we
will visit Scratch contact here and see if our employed has replied to my
cipher.

Day 5

IN TARANT

FRIENDS:

Matters are slightly better in Tarant.

I have finally recovered from the recent attack on my health.

I have commissioned the House Mage to investigate the attack and charged my
research devision to descovery how anyone could enter my premmises whiout
setting off al the protection devices I have installed.

The attacks around Tarant have continued and it is now unsafe to travel more
than a day journey outside the city without at least 4 guards.

While this is good for buisness, It is bad for trade, restricting deleveries of
fresh Ale and MOUNTAIN DELIGHT (which arrives slowly, sometimes a barrel at a
time from Buckland.

I will have to fully regain my strength before things get worse. I believe I may
go down to GROGS tavern and have some milk. (Tim not being here to stop me.)

Yours faithfully

SCRATCH

DAY 5

Doromond clarifys things

A minor clarification: Earlier, regarding the combat on Day 5, Dr. Firebrand
stated that he had seen me cast what he believed to be a fire spell.

In actuality, this spell was most assuredly cast by someone else, most likely
Jacinta, as I am largely untrained in that particular college of magick, though
I understand how hard it is to tell who exactly is casting
what kinds of magick in the heat of battle. Just for clarification, though, my
only formal training in magick has been in the college of White Necromancy, and
am still largely a novice in that particular school.

- Doromond Delari

EXCERPT FROM TANUVEIN'S JOURNAL. WRITTEN IN OLD ELVISH.

Yet another attack occured on the fifth day. All went well, and the enemies were
left for dead. This is becoming monotonous. Killing is an art, and the art is
currently being blurred into the obscurity of repetition. I will continue on, as
per the agreement. Kander was right, there is work to be had here.

Perhaps the Order will not fade as I had thought.

I can only hope that things work out here. I continue to read the scroll, but I
must withold some information. They are not yet ready to comprehend some of the
things. That is the life of one like me; a Keeper of Secrets.

If only they knew my true reason for being here.

Kander was right on another thing; I have lost my animosity toward steamworks. I
still consider it the magick of lazy, slothful, and sometimes stupid people, but
for others it is merely the way things are, a growth and a development. I hold
no grudges against the users of it, though I would not use it myself.

I soon plan to start a new school of magick. I must first determine the course I
will take.

The young girl (Jacinta) has attracted my attention. She shows an innocence and
a purity that I find missing in such a blithe world. I assume it is merely a
minor attraction. She is, after all, hundreds of years younger than me, and not
elven.

Perhaps I grow lonely. Perhaps I tire of the death."

EVENING OF DAY 5

AFTER THE GROUP IS SETTLED AT THE LOYAL TOAST INN

Focus, he thought to himself, focus... Seal of Force...

As Tanuvein watched, green, blue, and violet motes of light began to shoot
forward from Doromond's hands, as the half-elf began to chant almost inaudibly.

Rune of Energy...

As Doromond brought his open hands upward, and turned them so that the palms
were facing each other, the motes began to coalesce between them, circling
around one another almost randomly.

Rune of Shielding...

The motes sparked briefly before fading from view, and a blue glow settled over
Doromond briefly, before it, too, faded.

Almost unconsciously, he maintained the spell for a few minutes, taking note of
the near-invisible protective glow that surrounded him.

Then, with a deep breath, he simply concentrated on ending the Shield of
Protection spell, and the glow disappeared. Tanuvein's face sported a brief
half-smile. "Congratulations, Doromond. You've just mastered the basics
of the Magickal College of Force." Doromond knew that this wasn't entirely true
just yet; the real test of how well he had mastered the College of Force's most
basic spell would be how well, and how quickly, he could cast the spell under
more stressful conditions, such as those created by raging combat.

As though sensing his doubts, Tanuvein spoke up again. "I realize you have a lot
to learn, and you've barely scratched the surface, but you're learning very
well. This is the first time you attempted to cast a spell from this school, and
you did it
near-perfectly. That's not something every student of a College of Magick can
claim with their first spell. Make no mistake, Doromond, you have potential. It
may take you years, or even decades to fully realize it, but as long as you have
faith in yourself, anything is possible." A brief pause.

Finally, Doromond spoke up. "Thank you, Tanuvein. About compensation..." he held
out a few ten-piece gold coins, but the elf simply shook his head. "Keep your
money. It was my pleasure to teach you, and in all honesty, I think that
knowledge may help us all on this adventure." "Very well. I shall see you
tomorrow then..."

With that, Doromond turned away to head back to his room, when Tanuvein spoke
again. "Doromond..."
The half-elf turned back toward him. "Yes?"
"If you don't mind my asking... who first taught you what you know about
magick?" Doromond paused, carefully scrutinizing the elf, as though debating
whether or not to open up to him.
"Velorim Delari. My father..." he finally said, somewhat dejectedly.
"Practically from the time I was born, he taught me everything I know about
magick, and about nature, and its beauty... even the 'Shel-Qintarra' and the
'Shel-Tulla.'"

Tanuvein nodded in comprehension. The Spells of Entry, into Tulla and Qintarra.
Of course, without them, gaining entry into either of those highly magickal
cities would be nearly impossible.

So he's had something resembling a proper upbringing and education, the elf
thought, though how he might use them was something of an open question. "Then
one day, some eleven years ago, he told me that he had business to attend to in
Tulla, and that he would soon come back, and he left me with his sister in the
meantime."

Doromond was clearly fighting back tears now. "That was the last I ever saw of
him... or of Qintarra, for that matter. A few days later, my mother came, and
took me to Tarant. She claimed that my father was dead, but I didn't believe her
then. I still don't believe her..." It was quite clear that Doromond had no wish
to share any more on the subject than he already had, so Tanuvein decided to let
it drop.
"All things must come to an end, we can only hope to survive and be strong when
that does." Doromond simply sighed in response, and left Tanuvein to himself.

Back in his own room, Doromond slammed his fist into the wall in anger, both at
the loss he had endured, and at himself, for having opened himself up as much as
he did, to a near-stranger. One thing was certain... he would not make the same
mistake a second time.

SOME TIME AFTER THE EVENTS DESCRIBED

NEWS REACHES SCRATCH SHE IS DEAD.

The light Of my life is dead.

What is the point in living.

All I had hoped for, dreamed of.

Why continue with all this. I miss her so much. I should never have sent her.

'Come Scratch this is no way to act.' I tell myself 'You must let people know
what happened'

I sigh. I will post the dread journal.

I will.. Just give me time....

DAY 5

THE DREAD JOURNAL & PARTY PROBLEMS

Today we make White hills .

The party has finally recovered from the knowledge that we MUST have been
attacked by SIMORP.

AS yet we cannot explain how she knows where we are, but it is obvious She is
behind our problems.

Had lunch near a streambed.

DAMN again we are attacked, Giant ANTS broke out from the ground, swarming over
to attack.

Again they went for Jacinta first.

I finally saw my first Earth and Fire Spirits today as Tanuvein summoned the
creatures, and Monti summoned a Hell Gate and then an OGRE guard. It seems
Jacinta has been paying attention as she to summoned and ORC champion.

The rest of the party unlimbered their weapons and proceeded to fight. The blows
from the creatures came thick and fast, knocking Stanislo of his feet while
Doromond and Perinio have come to an understanding about Just who is Jacinta's
guard.

In the end they decided that they BOTH would assume the responsibility. (I thing
Doromond sees potential in Jacinta )

Tim and JIM , as usual, just waded into the fray. Hamfast snapped out of his
Malay and managed to kill 4 creatures with excellent marksmanship. (He later
admitted his father had paid a professional trainer to assist him) wise man.

We cut through the beast and attempted to get into more open area. I through
some Grenades I had with me over the top of the leading animals, towards the
oncoming mod.

Perinio and his swords made a definite impression on the beasts while Doormond
cast what I though of as a Fire spell at the creatures, then proceeded to shoot
the burning animals.

IT was then that it all stopped, well not all, we continued to attack, but the
creature movements and actions suddenly became halted, slowed to the point where
we could easily avoid there strikes.

Needless to say we decimated the remaining creatures and finishing the job (the
combat took about 5 minutes). Time seemed to regain its momentum.

I noticed that DR Monti lay in the midst of the creatures so I rushed over to
him (to be beaten by Tanuvein) who shouted. 'Its alright Hes ok, merle passed
out'

I believe we all sighed with relief.

We were surprised that the bodies remained , and examining one discovered that
they were natural to the area. SO we continued to White hills and rest.

We made White hills before dusk and stayed at the Loyal Toast again. Tomorrow we
will visit Scratch contact here and see if our employed has replied to my
cipher.

DAY 6

In the middle of the afternoon we finally concluded our business with Scratch's
agents.

I had not know that he was so sick, and our request has fallen to the ground
unfulfilled.

No new companions, and matters are in a state of flux as although the business
continues, there may be no one to decipher my (our) journal or problems.

We spent the day looking for supplies.

Tanuvein and Doromond and Stanislo disappeared off on errands of their own and
they did not return till it was late in the evening.

We have refreshed ourselves and re supplied (enough for at least 15 days travel
without hunting) so as to be able to devote reasonable time to our mission.

Tomorrow we continue the journey to the tomb and I worry (along with Monti) that
we may be not as well prepared as we think we are.

Towards that end I spoke to Tanuvein and Doromond and recommended that they
purchase extra supplies (as they deem necessary) for a quick flight to safety
with our young charges. (I chose them because of there elfin speed (although
Doromond is only half elf I have seen him move and he is quite fast).

Of course Monti (also Half Elf), cold have been chosen , but declined on the
grounds that our employer would rather WE faced things together.

Perinio has also refused to leave the party if things become tough, saying that
if Tanuvein and Doromond can safely deliver our charges to Scratch he would by
them all the necessary time required for such a venture.

Personally I thing Johsirus wishes to remain out of loyalty to Scratch and love
for our Orcs, with whom we have traveled far and wide.

NOTE: I must remember to tell TIM and JIM to ready a traveling pack for our
charges.

Firebrand.

DAY 7

Today we left White hills about 10, after Tim had repacked a travelling sack.

Unexpected opposition from both Hamfast and Jacinta to my proposals for their
safety.

I had to insist (backed by Monti) that I was the party leader and as such my
discussion (in certain matters) were NOT open for discussion.

Tanuvein said nothing but I could tell from his eyes that he dose not agree,
even though we had discussed this last night.

The others kept quiet but agreed, Party discipline IS my responsibility.

..............................HOW TO TELL YOU DEAR SCRATCH......................

JACINTA IS DEAD !

She fell bravely and I still weep, Perinio is lost, Hamfast uncontrollable and
the rest of the part inconsolable.

She died defending us, helping Doromond and Hamfast with the dread beast.

They appeared out of no where.

NO that's not right !!

THEY LAY IN WAIT FOR US !!

THEY...................

NO !! SHE knew our plans, our journey, and our steps..

Scratch dearest friend I can only tell you what I saw, perhaps others here saw
it all, I did not, and at this time I grieve to much to question them.

We were about 40 miles from White hills about half a day's journey from the tomb
when they attacked.

Wyverns , 5 of them flew out of the sun directly at us. Then the battle started,
Ant lions and a pack of wild Kytes attacked.

They descended upon us and cut the party in two, Isolating Hamfast, Jacinta, Tim
&Jim and Doromond from the rest of us.

Tanuvein called forth elemental while Monti cast Tempus fugit and opened a Hell
Gate.

It was not enough the Ant lions , those blasted menace's they came out of the
ground and grabbed her.

Dragging her down.

Then as quickly as the attack started it finished. Leaving us to battle to the
end against the Wyvern and kytes.

WE WON ..............
BUT WHAT A COST.

The party is demoralized, I wonder if we should continue. We searched and
searched, to only find blood, where she was taken. She is dead.... What can I
say to comfort you.

I will write again when I recover myself.

Firebrand

DAY 7

EXCERPT OF TANUVEIN'S JOURNAL

Things go well still. In my free time, I began reasearch on my new school of
magick. Necromantic White. I know, by what the gods tell me in my dreams, they
will be needed.
The gods would not lie to me, they know what my mission is. Furthurmore, the
others do not understand how long I was gone. I tried to explain to Dr. Monti,
the seemingly most intelligent, but he could not understand.

"He could not understand how I could be gone fore weeks, when it was mere hours
to him. No one, I believe, can trully understand magick unless they have
mastered it, and even then, they still do not understand it fully.

So the gods say I will need this school of magick. I trully preferred to take
the darker route of Necromantic Black, but it seems it is not it's time..."

~A seperate Journal entry, from some sevreal hours later.~

"I now know what the gods meant when they told me I would need this magick. I
indeed thought it curious, considering what I am. Why would a weapon want to
heal?

This is why, quite obviously. I have lost so much, they have decided to give me
the opportunity to keep on to some small pleasure. Jacinta is dead, and I will
need to ressurect her.

"But it is beyond my skill. I will attempt however. I did not tell the others
that I need neither sleep nore food, so I will tell them that I need rest
tonight, and cannot do watch. I will leave an illusion of myself in my bed, as I
have done in the prevoius nights, and move to heal her corpse. I only hope that
all goes well."

~That night, some hours after Jacinta's death.~

Her corpse lay below him as he lightly fell to his knees. The magick was pouring
through him, tearing at his soul. He could feel deaths grip tighten arround him,
and he could only hope to devert it's attention.

*
He did not care as the earth fissured below him, or that the lightening rended
the serenity of hte night asunder. Of that explosions of radiant life fired from
him. Nor did he care of the mortal danger he was in. He failed to keep her
alive, and her would remedy that.

Or he would die trying

OYARSA REPLYS TO QUESTIONS

Tanuvein, Buckland is, indeed, a region of the Shire in LOTR. My father, Barso,
is a descendent of one Meriadoc Buckland. Hence it is Hamfast's family name as
he is my firstborn. Our family business is agricultural estates in Caladon.
Hamfast has joined the Dodgey Brothers expedition as the result of several
business transactions and brokered deals Scratch and my household have had.

Mountain Delight is a beverage I have brokered procurement for Scratch. I have
also supplied fine brandies and wines.

May the trees shade your paths.
Oyarsa Buckland, Buckland Orchards and Vineyards, Prop.

Day 7

SHORTLY AFTER TANUVEIN'S SNEAKING OFF

Damn it, Doromond muttered angrily under his breath, damn it all! What did she
do to deserve her fate? For that matter, what had he done?

Why did those who he cared about always either vanish or die before him, without
his being able to do anything?

First his father, then his mother, then his human stepsister, and now Jacinta,
who, in such a short time, he had thought of as his own sister, whose safety was
his responsibility.

And now she was dead, and he was not, though he most certainly deserved his fate
more.

The half-elf seethed with a rage which he could not entirely put out of his
mind, as he focused on the seals and runes necessary to heal the wounds to his
body, desperately wishing he could heal his soul as easily.

After a while, with his wounds tended to, Doromond decided to take a short walk,
not too far from the campsite, hoping to clear his mind.

It was then, that he noticed something strange near Tanuvein's tent. Kneeling
down, he noticed several tracks, so shallow as to be almost invisible, but they
couldn't have been made more than an hour or two ago... after he said that he
would not be able to participate in the watch tonight... and there were no
tracks leading back to the tent.

So the elf is up to something he doesn't particularly want any of us involved
in, and that's a phantasm sleeping in the tent...

Making sure that the current watch, which consisted of Jim and Dr. Monti, hadn't
spotted him (they hadn't), Doromond quietly stalked off like a thief in the
night, following Tanuvein's tracks...
He wanted to find out what was going on.

A few hours later, he came to an open area, with fissures in the earth cracking,
lighting tearing the sky around him apart, and bright bursts of light appearing
from what seeemed to be a central point.

Quietly moving as close as he dared, Doromond could pick out Tanuvein, crouching
over Jacinta's corpse, and performing some sort of powerful magickal invocation.
Judging from the aura, which, to one familiar with it, clearly marked the spell
as a powerful White Necromantic invocation, and the fact that Jacinta's corpse
was at his feet, it did not take a Master of Divination to piece together what
the elf's intentions were.

Well, he's not the only one who failed to protect Jacinta. I don't think that a
Resurrection is within even Tanuvein's power, but if he wishes to attempt it,
then I owe it to both him and Jacinta, to do what I can to ensure his success.

With that thought, Doromond unholstered his pistol, holding it pointed upwards,
and started patrolling around the area where Tanuvein was performing his complex
ritual. If we get attacked, the half-elf thought grimly, I'm the only one here
to stand between the enemy and the extremely vulnerable Tanuvein and Jacinta...
To say the least, this was a major weight on his shoulders.
Could he do it?
What if they were, in fact, attacked? Would he be able to stop them from
preventing Jacinta's revival? Even if left undisturbed, could Tanuvein actually
bring her back to life? And even if he did, how could he ever face her, after
his failure?

This is not the time for doubts, Doromond told himself. You have a duty to
perform, and you shall do everything in your power, to ensure that it is
perfromed.

DAY 7

HILLS DAILY (When only the best News is needed)

ITEM 1: REPORT FROM BUCKLAND

Renoria reports that the Buckland estates have been attacked by a pack of roving
wolves. Oyarsa Buckland estates owner is reported to have said.

"We lost a few stock and one of the guards sent by Scratch 3 days ago. But what
concerns me more is that they attacked in broad daylight.

I have never known these animals to be so brave. They attacked through fire,
jumping it and seeking an obvious goal."

ITEM 2: ROAD OUT

The road to White Hills was cut yesterday when huge earth tremors brought rocks
tumbling down on it near the road to the 'Unending Plains'.

ITEM 3: STRANGE LIGHT LAST NIGHT

Strange lightning and spectacular night-lights were seen in the night sky last
night.

Mage Fredric of Hill town said about the events. 'Tis not natural I say, Tis not
natural.'

Later after he calmed down he was overheard to say. 'Invoking GODS they were.
Dangerous it is, never know what will happen, will they.' 'HE HE HE.' He cackled

(Mage Fredric is know to be slightly disadvantaged due to certain spells cast
years ago)

ITEM 4: NEWS FROM TARANT

Dodgey Brothers Emporium closes doors for the first time in 20 years.

Today in Tarant, Dodgey Brothers will close its doors for the first time in 20
years of trading. Scratch, the chairman of Dodgey brothers is said to be in
morning for his daughter Jacinta RIST, who is rumoured to have died tragically
on a recent
adventure into the wilderness between White Hills and Stillwater.

At the funeral Scratch was heard to say 'SHE WILL PAY".

When questioned about who SHE was, we were hustled away by 4 rather large ORC
bodyguards, one of whom seemed to be in tears.

NIGHT OF DAY 7

Flames from from the cracks began to drift into the sky, at first a hazy mist.

The flames, burning with an enternal heat, began spiraling into Tanuvein's
cusped hands, and into the young woman.
Lightning fomr the sky grappled at his back, curling around his arms and
inevetibally into Jacinta as well. And from Tanuvein himself, ways of pure
spirit waved into her, sending shockwaves through the air.

Spirit magic like this was impossible.

Yet he continued on. It could have been the flashing hues, or the whirling,
hurricanic winds, but the corpse seemed to slowly, ever so excruciatingly
slowly, regain life. It seemed very well, except for one thing. From the woods
hulked forth a massive beast.

It stood at ten feet with room to spare, it's body made of corded muscles, with
mechanicle legs that gave it inhuman speed. It's arms were also odd. One was a
normal hand, albeit clawed, and the other had an elephant gun grafted on just
below the elbow. The sinewy beast moved forward, it's gooey, muscles red flesh
glowing softly in the magical lights. It's head was decidedly canine.

"Ah... the elf. I can almost taste his blood... the master will be pleased..."

The air around the robotic demon crackles with something odd. With something
that could not possibly fit with such a mechanicle abomination.

Magick.

DAY 8

I have decided that even though the cost so far has been great, we should
continue to the Tomb.

I have not discussed this. I have decided.

Monti approached me earlier today as told me Tanuvein was missing last night,
along with Doromond, he doesn't know for how long, but a fair while.

It seems he was woken by a strange lighting storm and got up to check the party,
noticed no heat coming from either of there tents. I will not ask what they are
up to, I doubt I would be told the truth anyway.

I believe Tanuvein has his own reasons for this journey, Yet he accepted Jacinta
after all the Mage colleges disavowed her, and for that alone I will allow him
some leeway.

I have decided we will spend 2 hours looking for her body today, as I know
scratch would wish its return.

Fruitless labor, we found nothing, not even tracks, Perinio has sworn to revenge
the tombs occupant, (Strangely, Tanuvein looked pained when this happened)

I said nothing and looked to Monti, who was deep in thought.

I saw Monti motion both Tanuvein and Doromond over to the side and there was
a heated argument, after which all Monti would say was.

'You will know when it is time'. I don't know what he means but there is
obviously something amiss between them now.

Although they have a great respect for each other I doubt either of them know
Monti's true manner, having not seen him in the dire situations that I have.
Though I can say the same of Tanuvein, I know little about him, and Doromond,
whom I have great fondness for (he reminds me of my son sometimes with his quiet
ways).

We broke camp and headed to the tomb arriving at the outskirts about 4 ish.

We did not make it to the tomb, we camped about 1 mile from it and sent in
Perinio as a scout. It is just as well we did, traps, wild creatures, surround
the place and the Tomb is OPEN.

Perinio took the magic detector with him and came back with readings off the
scale.

I showed the party these readings and explained that "EVEN when Monti had cast
TEMPERAL FUGE the readings still could not match what had been recorded by
Perinio.

We will discuss plans tonight, and tomorrow we will decide what to do.

DAY 8

********OFFICE OF DODGEY BROTHERS TARANT ***

I have decided to do what I had promised myself I would never do.

I have sent the letter to my trusted friend Longshaft Hammerfast.

I have called in all my old debts and probably laid up debt of my own with her
but there is no reason anymore to with hold using this last favor.

I do not know what she will do. I suspect she will come herself to see if I
really want this.

Unless something happens between now and her arrival, I believe I may ask to go
with her, although I doubt she will let me.

She once told me that grief passes in time. How I wish it were so... I know in
my heart of heart it is true but I cannot see it.

If Longshaft comes I will as for vengeance.

Hum perhaps I will have to think more on this for I can only ask one thing of
her.

I............... do not know what to ask.......

DAY 8 Late afternoon

Courier Dispatch from Buckland Estates:

Scratch,

Sympathies on your loss. A parent should never outlive the child
. But, if I may border on the indelicate, was a body recovered?
The reports from the expedition are unclear. Sometimes the machinations of
vengence overextend themselves. I would recommend a hastening of the expedition
to the Tomb.
I have sent two dispatches, one to Hamfast and one to the expeditions esteemed
leadership.
Hamfast will not balk at orders again.
He will also unpack a few items which may be of service and were intended for
dire situations.
I will list them at the end of this missive.

I also wanted to inform you that my friends in Caladonian government have taken
steps to ensure the borders and internal security of the nation.
Border patrols are increased.
Zeppelins are being used as spotters for incursions while coordinating with
Conveyence Masters who can teleport troops to the threatened area.
Your guard was seriously wounded but has been treated by our local herbologist.

Hamfast is under instructions to present the following items to Dr. Monti and
Firebrand: 1 flamethrower + fuel(payment for debt from a dwarven innkeeper), 1
repeater rifle + 1 hand cannon + ammunition (my cousin Oxo Proudfoot's), 5 units
of dynamite, and 1 suit of dwarven plate medium sized (same debt as the
flamethrower).

If the expedition needs assistance my cousins Oxo and Oro can be sent to augment
your personnel. Oxo has had extensive training in the Caladonian military and
Oro is an adjunct instructor in the capitol's School of Magicks.

May the clouds release their rains, then release the sun.

In symapthy,

Oyarsa Buckland, Buckland Orchards and Vineyards, Prop.

EXTREMELY LATE DAY 7
EXTREMELY EARLY MORNING DAY 8

Each passing minute was starting to feel like an eternity to him.

Doromond tensely paced around the area where Tanuvein was still performing his
invocation, carefully watching for any threats, and hoping that his increasingly
spectacular spell would soon be completed... He noticed that it seemd like
Jacinta was starting to move slightly, though it could have easily been an
illusion created by the maelstrom of energy swiriling around him.

Pay attention to the terrain and what's on it, NOT what the elf is doing! He
chided himself.
Turning back toward his vigil, he noticed the large, oddly-shaped sillhouette
emerging from the nearby woods, and approaching them.

It appeared to be a large creature, made out of a mixture of corded muscles and
mechanical devices, with a wolf-like head on its shoulders, and it stood nearly
twice Doromond's height, and was significantly wider as well.
It also had a large gun grafted to its left arm, which it was now pointing at
Tanuvein as it approached.
Doromond pulled back the hammer on his pistol, locking a live round into the
chamber.
He sighted on the beast, and fired at it, hoping to draw its attention away from
Tanuvein.
The bullet struck it in the stomach, to little effect; the beast merely
staggered slightly, before continuing on, still intent on the elf.
Doromond proceeded to fire four more rounds, until the revolver was empty, but
he still could not draw the creature's attention; it continued to singlemindedly
lumber toward Tanuvein. Out of any other options, and desperate to at least buy
enough time for Tanuvein to complete his ritual, take the revived Jacinta, and
escape, the half-elf cast a Shield of Protection spell on himself, then drew his
broadsword and charged at the massive creature.

As Doromond neared the beast, it stopped, taking aim at Tanuvein. Hoping to
stop it in time, Doromond jumped into the air and performed a downward slash,
cutting the creature's abdomen.

The pain it apparently felt was enough to throw off the first shot it fired, but
it simply fired again, this time striking Tanuvein in the side, and effectively
disrupting his invocation.
The lightning that had been blasting overhead, no longer being controlled by the
spell the elf was casting, now proceeded to strike Jacinta's corpse repeatedly,
tearing it apart well beyond any hope of ever healing and reviving it, as
Tanuvein, clutching the wound in his side, turned toward the beast that had
brought his spell to a halt.
Doromond was also quite keenly aware of what had happened, but he did not shout
any maledictions toward fate, vows for revenge, or similar words. He did not
need to.
The cold expression in his amber eyes said all that he had to say: One of us...
is going to die for that.

Meanwhile, Tanuvein, trying to ignore the pain from the wound he had recieved,
had reached into his pack, and pulled out one of the Restorers that Dr.
Firebrand had insisted he keep with him.
Though Tanuvein strongly disdained the use of Technological items, he was now
quite grateful he took the Herbological drug with him, for it would give him the
energy he needed to avenge Jacinta's loss.
With his stamina so restored, he climbed to his feet, and began to evoke another
spell, this one intended to kill the beast that had sealed Jacinta's fate.

Having wounded Tanuvein and disrupted his spell, the strange mechanical beast
now turned its full attention towards Doromond, speaking up for the first time.
"I hadn't expected the elf to have help... but nonetheless... I think that my
master will be quite pleased, when I present your broken bodies to her, to be
revived as her personal bodyguards!"

"We shall see about that..." the half-elf said, in a cold, grim voice that could
have sent a chill up the spines of all but the bravest men.

With that brief exchange over, the beast swiped at Doromond with its large
clawed right hand, but Doromond dove to the right, and then slashed at the back
of his adversary's wrist, cutting it slightly, and causing it to bleed an odd,
metal-colored fluid. It countered by turning toward Doromond and kicking him in
the chest, knocking him to the ground.

The giant then pointed its gun at him, but he narrowly managed to roll out of
the way, and then climb to his feet, and avoid the powerful bullet.

The giant again clawed at him, this time managing to rake his claws across
Doromond's left arm. It again pointed its gun-arm at the half-elf, when a
powerful surge of electricity struck the giant, with such force that it was
knocked over on it's side. The gun discharged, striking Doromond in the stomach.
After reeling in pain for a few moments, he rushed toward the fallen giant's
neck, cutting at the cords running down it.

The beast convulsed in pain slightly, nearly crushing the half-elf with his
massive arms. Realizing this was the way to hurt it, Doromond now ran toward
it's left arm, again cutting the cords of muscle and nerve that ran from its arm
into the gun grafted into it. While he was going to all this effort, Tanuvien
repared and released another Lightning Bolt spell, this time striking the still-
prone beast squarely in it's canine head. It proceeded to convulse in pain even
more, as sparks began flying out of the mechanical parts.
Doromond proceeded to get away from the creature's body, mere seconds before it
exploded in a short, furious surge of lightning, and then simply remained where
it lay, completely lifeless. A few seconds later, Doromond dropped to the
ground, weak from his wounds, as Tanuvein walked over...

He looked down upon the half-elf, considering for a long moment to let the
failure die.
He shakes his head; it was no more his failing than Tanuvein's. But that was a
beast of the Order.
The Order must already be stronger than he thought, to be selling out it's
srvices to people.

He shoved his hand at Doromond's (if that is not your name, sorry) wound.
A ball of white fire erupted into the gory hole.
The lead of hte metal simply evaportaed, burnt away.
The fire closed the wound shut tight, fully healed, with a great deal of pain.
Tanuvein glowered, preparing to speak.

His words were cut short as light flashed, and they both fell into a state of
semi consciousness.

When they awoke some time later, Tanuvein kicked Doromond to get him up,
apparently still in a foul mood. He barely spent time to make a point that
Jacinta, and the demon's, body was gone. He was obviously holding secrets as he
quietly headed back to the camp.

SOMETIME DAY 8

AT THE SITE OF LAST NIGHT'S BATTLE

A Servant of Simorp portaled into the area and looked around, somewhat
displeased. Off to the right of him, he could see few remains of the powerful
beast that had been dispatched to do the task he now had to clean up after. An
unforeseen complication, but ultimately a minor one, the mage thought.

With that, he walked over to the lightning-blasted crater, and began a powerful
magickal invocation. A few minutes later, the body of a young woman appeared,
having literally been reassembled from the component atoms that she had been
blasted into, when the spellcaster who had previously attempted what he was
doing now had been shot. Well, I guess it's up to my master from here, the mage
thought. He proceeded to portal back to where he had been dispatched from.

DAY 8

EXCERPT FROM TANUVEIN'S JOURNAL.

Written in Old Elvish.

... Damn it all! The bastard Kander backstabbed me. I should have known it. If
it wasn't the technology that warped his crooked mind, he had to have been
dropped on his head as a child!

The runter, the beast that attacked me in my attempt to resurrect Jacinta, was
of Graylor's work.

"So, he still lives. I should have known better than to hope that he was trully
dead.

He must have reastablished control over the Order when I left to... when I left.
I should have been more wary; he was not granted the title 'Betrayer' for no
reason.
The runter, though, is moronic. And, even with Graylors magic infused in a part
of him, could not detect us. That leaves one conclusion.

A spy.

"Tonight I will search through everyones things. If I find anything that
slightly resembles any affiliation with the Order, that person will awake with a
slit throat. And their is one other thing, a thing I must keep secret, for now.

"Jacinta is not entirely dead. I looked in the underworld, and she had yet to
pass the gates. She yet lives, somehow. There is no way I can tell the others
this. Their foolishness would make them think me an agent of the hells. Normal
people cannot commute with the underworld.

"All things considered, I think it is either Doromond or Dr. Monti... Doromond
is the one that followed me. Why, I do not know, though it would have made no
difference. It is good that I used that little healing machine before he
realized what the bullet did to me.

"It went through my heart. He would have been curious why I did not die. I can
only hope his limited experience does not aid him to realize that the fire was
not regular magick."

"May the gods pity him if he learns what I am."

DAY 8 LATE

**** Office of Dodgey Brothers ****

SHE ARRIVED TODAY.

When I least expected it she arrived.

I.... what can I say.... She is a beautiful as when I first saw her 20 Years ago
in the forest.

She is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen..
She reminds me of Jacinta, Or is it that Jacinta reminds me of her. Her
mother... !!!

I dare not look to long or I will faint with joy at the sight of her. How can I
explain what happened. How can I tell her what transpired, what fate awaited my
beloved daughter.

I will try. I will tell her all. Then I will ask the favor, even though SHE may
regect me again. Even though SHE may hate me.

I will ask.

ALL bounds must be payed in full, all debts cancelled, all favours asked (at
least once).

Yet still I cannot tell the true cost, the true cost to me If I ask.

GODS !!! HELP ME..... WHAT SHOULD I DO !!!

NIGHT OF DAY 8

DISCUSSION SIN THE NIGHT

Things do NOT go well .. We argued till almost dawn on what to do.

I suppose its my own fault, I asked the others what they thought. I should have
just laid out a plan and presented it.

ONE good thing. About 3 am a messenger arrived on horse looking form me and
Hamfast, It seems Oyarsa had some surprised packed in Hamfast's luggage, which
he has now shared with the party.

Yet another argument, no, NO a DEBATE, started after Hamfast shared his spoils
with us. Some wanting to take advantage of Oyarsa offer others wanting to JUST
attack.

Through this all Both Monti and Tanuvein stayed quiet. Finally Tanuvein said,
"WE SHOULD GO"... that was all just "WE SHOULD GO", and Monti nodded.

I don't know what's going on but something is.

I will decide at first light what to do, and the party has agreed to follow my
lead.

(NOTE: I have heard through the messanger that SCRATCH has called in a favor
from Longshaft, I don't know if I should warn Monti or not since this will
trouble him.)

LATE NIGHT DAY 8

********* OFFICE of DODGEY BROTHER ***

She has left as quickly as she arrived.

I told her all, what happened, She looked at me, smiled a small smile and came
over and TOUCHED ME.

SHE actually touched me.

I could not believe it that she would touch me after all these years, after what
has happened between us.

Then she said something I will treasure for all my life.

'My love'... She said 'My love'.

'My love, I would have come sooner but I had business far in the south. You do
not have to ask me for a favor to come to you, I too love your daughter. You
know she is dear to my heart.'

Then she looked at me again with eyes that pierce the soul and said.

'I will do what I can. I will see what can be seen and I will FIGHT THIS FIGHT.'

Then she turned, raised her hands and disappeared through a portal, into the
dawn of a new day.

"I will return my love". Those where the last words to me.

I have no delusion she loves me, I know she dose. BUT her love is like that to a
child, who you have raised but has grown.

I ... still cannot understand WHY she came and WHY she will help, BUT I thank
the GODS for the days and years that I spent in the wilderness with her, with
her Clan.

Some day I will be able to tell the tail. But not today, I still weep for my
daughter.

DAY 9

A SMALL BATTLE

It started at dawn, I think I had only about 3 hours sleep.

Having finally decided that the best defense is an offence, we attacked from out
of the rising sun, hoping the new days light would help us with some sort of
advantage.

The battle for the entrance was bloody, long and difficult.

Have not seen our brave gnome since the battle started, and I can only report
brief details of what I saw of others fights as I had my hands full defending
myself and Hamfast (Who I teamed with).

Spell flew like water, Bullets came thick and fast, the hand cannon proved its
worth.

I think the plate saved my life, it was just to big for Hamfast, and I JUST
fitted into it (I think I need to lose some weight, maybe eat less, HA that will
be the day when I eat Less!)

On of her Daemon through a fireball at me (well I think it was a Daemon, could
have been something else I did not see), ANYWAY the fireball engulfed me, but I
survived, (Slightly singed hair and such, As it was aimed at my chest, ) BUT I
SuRVIVE.

I cannot really talk about the others, as they where sometimes beyond my sight.

IN the end we counted 20 weir rats, 2 Wyvern, 40 to 50 kites, wolves lay every
where, and I know I personally disposed of at least 6 Zombies.

As well as that Monti told me he saw at least 8 Fire lizards and 10- 20 Manti.

Tanuvein was silent but finally said he disposed of some 20 scorpion, and
Doromond says he killed numerous other creatures, whose bodies now have
vanished. I believe him as most of the bodies for this morning's slaughter have
suffered a similar fate.

We were about to reach the TOMB entrance, when a PORTAL opened in front of us.

A Very regal looking ELF stepped though, flanked by 2 halfings and 2 Elfin
guard, with spears.

She stepped from the vortex and came towards the party.

TANUVEIN stepped forward and bowed before her and kissed her offered hand, Monti
looked stunned and was lost for words or deeds.

Time stood still. She scanned the area, her guard spread out and the area
suddenly felt secure.

FIREBRAND !

IN THE CAMP

********** NOTES FROM THE JOURNAL OF DR MONTI ***********

I never thought I would see her again, Alive that is.

She appeared out of the transport void, her long golden hair blowing in the
breese. The emerald green dress she wear, genlty swaying in the winds of
transport.

I watched as her slender legs, made there way accross the green and blood
covered field.

I stood as she stretched out here hand , and saw my companion neel and kiss her
sweet hand, with the tenderness I knew should be mine.

I savoured the moment as she glanced my way, then she spoke.

Her words where like liquid light, her breath sweet as the morning dew, YET
beneth this all, I new the steel within her, The determination, the purpose, the
goal.

I shuddered to think what had drawn her here. I prayed she had not come on some
mission of her own, whith some motive of her own.

I prayed that Scratch had given in and had called in his last favor from her.
Yet I knwe that was unlikley.

WHat a cost, would he have done this, at that cost.

Then I realised that Jacinta was dead, I had been putting this out of my mind...
IT came over me in a rush.

SHE WAS HERE TO AVENGE JACINTA.

OH MY GOD !!!!

OH SHIFT !!!!

HE had asked her for vengance !!

Monti

EVENING OF DAY 8

The mage walked over to the edge of the dim lights, the body of the young woman
still resting in his arms. Finally, he knelt down, and set the body down.

"I have reassembled and delivered her, as you ordered, master."

A voice spoke from the darkness, a cold, hollow voice that sounded like it was,
in fact,
coming from the edge of the Void.
"You have done well, Cael. I am pleased."

"Thank you master. What of my reward, if I may ask?"

There was a brief pause, and then a thick, leather-bound tome appeared, floating
just in front of the mage.

"Here. You may go now."

Cael took the book, and then left, retiring to the room that had been set aside
as his personal quarters. Finally, his curiousity at an irresistible high, he
cracked open the book...

... and let out an ear-piercing scream of agony, as the mystic sigils inscribed
on the first page of the book released their stored spell, which, incidentally,
tore the living soul from the first person to gaze upon those sigils.

EARLY MORNING, DAY 9

Vengeance.

At first, Doromond had signed up for this mission, merely for the promise of
money and adventure. But now, he wanted to avenge Jacinta, and atone for his
failure, for reviving her would be impossible now.

He still couldn't forgive himself, for not being able to divert the attention of
that beast that had attacked Tanuvein, when it mattered the most.

One thing was certain: he would either send Simorp to burn in the deepest of the
hells for her crimes, or he would join Jacinta in death. To turn away now, would
be nothing short of an insult to Jacinta's memory, and sure to bring years of
anguish and suffering upon him. And I've already had enough of that to last me a
lifetime, the half-elf thought wryly.

He finished cleaning his pistol, loaded it with bullets, stuck it in its
holster, and then stepped outside into the dawn's welcoming light. Dr. Monti was
glaring at him somewhat suspiciously.

Can't really blame him for being this suspicious, Doromond thought. After all,
he DID sneak off in the dead of night, and, for all the wizard knew, he could
have been in league with Simorp. The thought of such a thing, of course, was
beyond repugnant to Doromond, after what the lich had done, but then, Monti
didn't really believe that, and ultimately, Doromond
had no way of changing his mind.

Dr. Firebrand and the young Hamfast were also waiting outside, equipped with the
new weapons and armor that Oyarsa had delivered, and ready for whatever the tomb
may have had in store. A few moments later, Tanuvein, Tim, Jim, Perinio, and
Stanislo stepped out of their respective tents, also ready for the early morning
assault.

"Is everyone prepared?" the dwarf asked tersely. Having recieved nods and
answers in the affirmitive all around, the group set off for the entrance to the
tomb.

About an hour later, they finally reached the entrance. They didn't even get
within a few
yards of it, though, before they were attacked from nearly all sides.

The attackers came fast and furious, and within moments, the whole area was
engulfed in a maelstrom of bullets,
magickal projectiles, and steel.

Firebrand and Hamfast fired upon the wyverns, the nearest attackers, with their
respective pistols, while Tanuvein summoned an impressive hailstorm, and Dr.
Monti cast a Tempus Fugit spell on the area. Doromond fired his rifle, and then
his pistol, into the pack of wolves that were rushing him, ultimately killing
ten of their number before both of his firearms were empty.

With the enemy too close to reload, he cast a protective spell on himself, and
then drew his sword and engaged both the wolves and several skeletal warriors
that had also reached him, after casting a spell that released a surge of
electricity into the air immediately surrounding him.

His mind was completely clear, even as the battle raged around him, and he felt
no fatigue; his calculated, deadly sword
strokes came almost without effort, and he evaded nearly all the attacks of his
enemies simply by sheer instinct, as though his entire body were being guided by
a higher power.

Meanwhile, Tim, Jim, and Perinio were busy holding back the front line of the
monsters, as Tim cut down zombies and kites with his large bastard sword, Jim
smashed skeletons, were-rats, and kites with his massive two-handed mace, and
Perinio cut a swath through the various creatures with his swords.

Dr. Firebrand hurled a grenade into the mob, that exploded into an impressive
wall of flame that quickly burned most of the monsters, as Tanuvein summoned an
earth elemental to deal with the scorpions that were getting dangerously close,
and Dr. Monti launched a Lightning Bolt at the wyverns that had been harassing
the orcs.

Doromond found himself mainly relying on his sword and his magick, throughout
the battle, as the battle was moving too fast for him to have an opportunity to
reload his weapons.

He did, however, get a few openings from the packs that had nearly isolated him
from the rest of the group, and he used these opportunities to cast healing
spells on both himself, and on the other warriors who were still holding back
the main force of the monsters.

He had already used one Restorer to bring his energy back to the point where he
could fight effectively, and now he had an opening to assist Dr. Firebrand and
Hamfast, who seemed to be having trouble.

Dr. Firebrand staggered backward slightly, quite badly burned by the Fireflash
spell the daemon had hit him with, as Hamfast brought his pistols upward and
fired them into its body, slightly wounding it.

Several kites rushed toward the wounded Firebrand, but Doromond rushed in at
almost blinding speed, cutting a few of them down, and confusing the rest of
them enough to make them easy marks for Hamfast and Dr. Firebrand.

The daemon cast a Stun spell on the half-elf, which was enough to take him out
of the action for the next few minutes, as Dr. Firebrand fired several carefully
aimed handcannon shots into the daemon, finishing it off.

*

In less time than it takes to finish the tale, the long, bloody battle had
ended, and Doromond, Hamfast, and Dr. Monti were all tending to the group's
various wounds.
I have to admit, Doromond thought, for all his paranoia and mistrust, Dr. Monti
at least realizes that the battlefield is no place for mistrust.

It was then, that the portal opened, and an elven woman stepped through,
accompanied by two halflings and two elven warriors, though Doromond didn't
recognize the insignias on their armor as any of the various elven heraldic
symbols.

She was certainly attractive, though her beauty evoked little emotion in
Doromond. Most of the others recognized her though, and Dr. Monti seemed quite
troubled by her presence, as Tanuvein stepped forward, bowed, and kissed her
hand. Doromond simply offered a deep, dignified bow.

DAY 9

EXCERPT FROM TANUVEIN'S JOURNAL -

WRITTEN IN AN UNKNOWN LANGUAGE

"...The order has me in checkmate. They know about us, and are going to send a
small force.

But, if my spies are at all correct, they will send an assassin especially for
me. Don't they realize that I've forsaken my powers? If I hadn't, would Jacinta
have been taken away? No, she would not. There are some nuances I cannot avoid
from heritage; I still don't sleep or eat, and my knowledge will never leave.
And my memories of the dead.

"And there are other powers I still have that I cannot control. I can still feel
the stems of life from everyone, almost asking to be snipped. And I can still
feel Jacinta's thread, alive, on this side of existence. So, she is alive, I
cannot tell the others, and I cannot use my powers to find her. Sometimes I
wander if that was a wise decision, forsaking my powers. But it is better. When
I anger, people inevitably die. It is better it is only a few, and not hte
masses.

"Perhaps if I could control this 'gift', then I would not be using mere magery
like everyone else. I still cannot rid myself of spirit magic. It is simply to
wonderful."

"Anyhow, my spies have sent me messages. In three hours, an epeditionary force,
mostly humans, a dozen or so dwarves, and a handful of elves, will move in on
our position. Three score strong, some of use are likely to die. Even now, I can
hear the assassin outside of my tent..."

"I wonder if he wishes inceneration, or burial?"

DAY 9

THE AFTERNOON.

Her guards and the two Halflings will remain to secure the enterence to the
tomb.

At LEAST she did not want to lead the party.

She was gracious and we will NOT venture into the tomb today.

Her guards will be night watch tonight and we may sleep well.

Tomorrow we will see what transpirse, and make ready to enter.

WE have camped about 100 yards form the entrance with wards set and traps
layed...

Tomorrow.. I fear tomorrow as I have never feared anything.

WE MUST HAVE A TRATOR IN OUR MIDST.

That is the only way she (Simorp) could have know all our travels, I reviewed my
journal and realised this.

I will discuss this with MONTI tomorrow.

I do not know who to trust exept Monti TIM and JIM, who would die before
betraying Scratch, Hamfast I know to be trustworthy, Perinio, I also trust.

The others I know not.

I must think on this. Firebrand.

DAY 9

* Meanwhile in the Tomb of SIMORP A servant enters the room of bones*

'Master, he has returned....' It said slowly

'Tell him I have waited long enough. GO on you fool. GO GET HIM, ' she shrieked
as he servant left the room in a hurry before HE could answer.

'Mistress' said a voice to the side. "I have done what you asked, I have even
dealt with the worm Cael, he is beyond now.'

'Well done Graylor, I hear his scream, it bought joy to my ears. Fetch her in
will you.' She said sweetly, like honey dripping form a hive.

'Yes mistress' he replied as he clapped his hands

Two lowly, deformed Orcs were seen to carry the almost lifeless corps of Jacinta
Rist into the Bone room, where upon they viewed a once tall, once beautiful
woman seated on a thrown of bones, pooled in fresh blood, some freely given some
not.

They bow before there master and mistress and place the body on an altar in the
front of her.

She rises slowly, and glides over to the body.

'YOU FOOLS, SHE HAS BEEN DAMAGED ', with that, bolts of lightning come from the
air, striking the hapless servants and Graylor.

'Mistress, I told you what happened'

'Yes, Yes Graylor, I forgive you.

BUT WHERE IS THE SCROLL.

YOU KNOW I NEED THE SCROLL.

YOU IDIOT WHERE IS THE SCROLL' she continued as the luckless Graylor hung
suspended from lines of force near the ceiling.

DAY 9

ON THE SURFACE

"Graylor..."

He stared at the entrace to the tomb for hours.

"I can sense you Graylor. All you need to do is break the treaty, and use your
power. Then I will be allowed my revenge. I have still not satisfied myself with
the harm I caused you. I never will. Not for what you did to my wife before you
killed her."

He knew Graylor was dangerously close to using his power. The vampiric elf had a
demented sense of justice. It must be hard for him to hold back on his power.
But, like Tanuvein could feel Graylor, Graylor could feel Tanuvein; if either
one used their power, the other would know. And the other would be free to bring
down the shackles of vengence and pain on the others. It made no differece.
Graylor was too strong willed to use his power. Tanuvein simply did not care
enough to use it.

He moved over, content that the others were all asleep. He rummaged through the
backs for sometime, starting with Doromonds and Dr. Monti. He searced onward.
The desperate pull of Graylor... and Jacinta, he now knew, though her essence
was dimmed there... was a constant annoyance in the back of his mind. Finally,
he came to the halfling's bag.

"So, he is the spy."

He held up a necklace, looking into it. A tracer stone. So, it was because of
this halfling the Order knew where they were. It was because of the halfling
that they hd 60 hostile enemies on there way to the tomb. And it was because of
the halfling that Graylor was here, and, in essence, Graylor's agents who had
harmed Jacinta.

He could almost thank the halfling for bringing him Graylor.

As he drew his knife, he realized he would think.

He wouldn't torture him as long as he would like.

DAY 9

LATE EVENING

As Tanuvein knelt over the sleeping Hamfast, dagger in hand and preparing to
plunge it into the halfling, he heard the soft, distinctive sound of approaching
footsteps. Turning around to face the new visitor, he saw what was coming, and
narrowly dove out of the way just in time to avoid a throwing knife.

*
He just couldn't sleep.

Try as he might, Doromond just could not put aside his fear and doubts aside
long enough to get more than a brief sleep. With a resigned sigh, he got up and
moved to exit his tent, when he saw the sillhouete (sp?) of a small humanoid,
perhaps a gnome or halfling, outside one of the tents, and out of the corner of
his eye, he saw the four guards that had taken the watch, all asleep, most
likely drugged.

The half-elf quietly moved out of his tent, briefly wondering why it was he was
the only one to see the suspicious things in the night, when the figure appeared
to throw something into the tent, and then turned around and ran. Drawing his
pistol, Doromond pursued the person, and it looked like Tanuvein was coming out
of what was definitely _not_ his tent to also chase the mysterious individual.
After a brief chase, the two had cornered who was revealed to be Stanislo, the
gnome.

*
(A few minutes later, after Tanuvein and Doromond had Stanislo tied up, and were
now interrogating him)

It was already quite clear that the gnome was, in fact, the real traitor of the
group, and he had simply slipped the tracer amulet into Hamfast's provisions to
draw suspicion away from himself.

Stanislo, of course, refused to say that much, or anything else, for that
matter. And it was beginning to greatly irritate Tanuvein. Not that it mattered,
though, for Stanislo was going to die soon anyway. Tanuvein simply drew his
knife, preparing to drive it into the gnome's heart, when Doromond finally spoke
again.

"No."

Tanuvein angrily turned toward the half-elf. "And why NOT!? It is BECAUSE of
this traitor that Simorp has known where we were all this time! It is BECAUSE of
him, that there have been monsters awaiting us the whole time, and it is because
of this damned gnome, that there are now sixty heavily armed mercenaries less
than two hours away from our camp, and intending to kill us!!"

"Mercenaries!?" Doromond just barely hid his surprise at that fact.

"YES! And because of Stanislo, they know WHERE we are, and soon they will reach
the camp! And you want to let him LIVE!?"

"He is still more useful to us alive than dead, Tanuvein. He is their only
source of information, is he not?" He punctuated his sentence with a
conspirational smile that genuinely frightened the captive gnome.

Tanuvein knew where Doromond was going with this conversation, even before he
said anything more. And I like where this is going, the elf thought. "What are
we waiting for then!?" he demanded rhetorically. "Let's get back to the camp and
wake the others up! We've got an attack to plan for!"

..

Tanuvein nodded, preparing to put his dagger away. Seeming to reconsider, he
leaned over and slowly severed a bit of the captives ear. He then took the lobe
in two fingers, and ripped the rest off.

"I will be back for you soon enough."

He decided he would torture this person long and thoroughly before he slit his
throat.

DAY 9

LATE EVENING

He didn't like this. Not one bit.

But Stanislo had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that going through with
this deception was his only chance at survival. By now, the group was well aware
of his duplicity in the coming attack, and now they were going to use him to
help lay a trap for them.

Doromond ducked into the tent that had been set aside as a "holding area" for
the gnome, and loosened the ropes that had been restraining Stanislo. Then, he
unholstered his pistol and leaned in, close.
"Before the attack comes, I wish to make some things clear to you, traitor," he
said, in his cold, intimidating voice.
"Do not delude yourself into thinking I stopped Tanuvein from killing you, out
of any sense of mercy. I did that because you are, in fact, more useful to us
alive, than dead. You had best pray to Providence that that remains the case,
because if it changes, the elf will have to beat me to kill you. And you are
going to be watched very carefully during this. If any of us have any reason to
suspect you may be attempting a double-cross, you will die. Is that clear?" His
only reply was a grim nod.
"Good. Get out there and get ready to go meet them then."

Back outside, the group was making the final preparations for the coming raid.
Perinio and Hamfast had both been hidden near the edge of the camp, where the
mercenaries were to make their rezndevous with Stanislo for any breaking
information before their attack, and Doromond was to also take a position near
the edge of the camp.
Tanuvein had conjured a phantasm of the two orc twins, Tim and Jim, asleep near
the campfire, and the rest of the group was finding concealment slightly closer
to the camp, waiting to come out and ambush the mercenaries.
More than ever, the half-elf was not sure who he could trust in this group, and
who he could not.
After all, how did Tanuvein know about this impending attack?
He would have asked the elf, if he had expected to get an honest answer.
And what else does he know, that he hasn't told us?
Would he betray us to our mutual enemy?
And why?
What would he gain from that?
Doromond swore he heard his father's voice talking to him... "Put aside your
fear and your doubt, and concentrate on the here and now... and on your duty..."

With a deep breath, he picked up his rifle and headed for the tree that was to
serve as his concealment.

*
(A short while later)

Stanislo walked out, somewhat nervously, to meet the mercenaries, a short
distance away from the camp. He knew all too well that both Doromond and Hamfast
were watching him carefully, and that neither one of them would be letting him
out of their sight, or taking their gun sights off of him, for that matter,
until the action started.

As the gnome walked toward the mercenary group, the leader spoke up. "Ah,
Stanislo."

The gnome stopped and bowed briefly. "Royd."

"Is there anything we should know about?"

"They've only got two people on watch... those dumb orc twins. I drugged them
both, though, so they shouldn't have any idea we're coming."

"And the elf?"

"Tonight, he dines in Hell."

"Excellent. It seems that our master's doubts in you were ill-deserved,
Stanislo."

The mercenary paused for a few moments, carefully regarding the gnome. "What
happened to your ear?"

"The elf put up a little more of a fight than I expected."

"I see." Royd spoke louder now, addressing his platoon. "Let's move out and get
this over with. You heard the gnome; the watch is out, and the rest of the camp
is sleeping, so they shouldn't give us too much trouble."

That's the kind of thinking that's going to get all of you killed, Stanislo
didn't say.

DAY 9

LATE EVENING, A FEW MINUTES AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE LAST STORY

The three-score mercenaries arrived at the camp, and a number of them spread
out, looking for their quarry. Several of them stayed with Royd as he went to
examine the two orcs asleep near the campfire.

Both of them were still unconscious. Something wasn't right about them, though,
but Royd couldn't put his finger on it. A few moments later, the rest of the
mercenaries went over to Royd to report that all the tents were empty.
Royd barely had time to ponder what to do, when he heard the faint, but
unmistakable sound of an obviously well-concealed fuse burning, and that sound
was getting closer to his feet.
"Take cover!" he shouted. "It's a trap! The gnome backstabbed us!"
The mercenary group did, in fact, scatter, trying to get as far from the area as
possible, but it was too late.
An explosion rocked the camp, leaving the tents largely untouched, but a number
of the mercenaries were killed in the dynamite explosion, and sevreral more were
wounded.

Hamfast and Perinio had emerged from their cover, and the former pulled back the
hammers on his pistols and proceeded to open fire, while the latter charged at
the nearest mercenaries, swinging his flail. One of the hired mages of the
mercenary group fell, a bullet firmily embedded in his chest, and one that
apparently came from Doromond's position.

Princess Longshaft teleported into the midst of the still-confused platoon and
summoned powerful gale-force winds, buffeting and scattering the mercenaries and
adding to the chaos, as her guards emerged and started tearing into the
attackers.

Dr. Firebrand drew his handcannon and started firing on the attackers, while Tim
and Jim, finally having the opportunity to release their agression against their
enemies, charged at the mercenaries, weapons flailing.

Dr. Monti cast a Tempus Fugit spell, and then opened a Hell Gate, while Tanuvein
threw various magickal projectiles at the mercenaries.

Royd simply reeled in pain from the piece of shrapnel that struck his leg,
unable to believe his senses. In mere seconds, the battle had gone from an all-
but-assured victory, to a deathtrap. Then he noticed an opening; the elf woman
was standing almost completely open, concentrating on her wind spell, while her
bodyguards were concentrating on the other fighters. Trying to ignore the white-
hot pain coming from his leg, he unholstered his handcannon, pulled back the
hammer, and sighted on the elf's head.
With a deep breath, Royd pulled the trigger...

... and missed completely, the bullet thrown off course by the powerful winds
and the elf's magickal aura. Cursing his fortune, he took two more shots, both
of which also missed, and on his fourth shot, his handcannon failed to fire, the
bullet jammed between the cylinder and the barrel.

To make matters worse, one of the spear wielding elves heard the gunshots and
rushed over toward the person who was firing them. This is just not my day, Royd
thought, as the guard drove his spear into the mercenary.

Doromond opened the breech on his now-empty rifle, ejected the spent rounds out
of the cylinder, and reloaded it as quickly as he could. Though he had already
killed several of their number, a few of the mercenaries armed with guns had
started to direct their fire in his direction, and though it was wildly
inaccurate, due partially to his concealment and camouflage, it was getting
dangerously close to his position.

I'll have to break cover soon, he thought, as he slammed the breech shut. As
though reading the half-elf's thoughts, one of the attackers started sweeping a
Tesla Rod's bolt across the tree, burning the leaves and bark, and moving it
closer to where he was perched. Time to bail. He dropped from the tree as
quickly and quietly as he could, but obviously, his attacker was waiting for him
to do just that, as the Tesla Rod's bolt now "locked" on to him, electrocuting
the half-elf,searing his flesh, and draining his strength. Trying to ignore the
pain even as the electricity coursed through him, Doromond struggled to get to
his feet. His attacker was now getting closer with his weapon.

Determined not to die without a fight, Doromond drew his revolver, and quickly
fired from the hip at his attacker.
The lightning stopped as the mercenary fell to the ground, from the shot he took
in the knee.
Without hesitation, the half-elf brought up his pistol again and fired, this
time hitting the mercenary in the head, and taking him out of the fight. Gasping
for breath, Doromond leaned against the nearby tree for support, trying to focus
on his healing magick.

Realizing that Hamfast had just now noticed his condition, Doromond saw the
halfling run over, and the half-elf noticed that he was covered in cuts,
scratches, and bruises.
"Are you all right?" Hamfast asked in a worried voice. "I'll... I'll live...
take care... of the others..."
Doromond gasped out in reply.
A few seconds ago, I might not have been so sure, he thought. Noticing Hamfast's
reluctance, Doromond spoke up again. "I... can take care... of myself...
worry... about the others..."
Finally, and reluctantly, the halfling turned back toward the still-raging
battle, pistols drawn.

The battle was going slightly better elsewhere. Tim and Jim both slashed,
bashed, and cut their way through the enemy, in spite of multiple wounds, while
Dr. Firebrand, still firing his handcannon into the crowd, was mostly unharmed
other than a few minor burns.

Princess Longshaft's guards weren't quite as fortunate, though; one of them had
taken a bullet to the chest, and the other was badly burned, though the Princess
herself was still unhurt.

Perinio was slightly wounded from electrical burns delivered by a Tesla Rod,
though not nearly as badly hurt as Doromond had been, and none of the
mercenaries who moved to engage Tanuvein or Dr. Monti managed to reach them; all
who tried ended up being either torn to pieces by Monti's summoned daemon, or
killed in some painful manner by various magickal projectiles.

The last of the mercenaries,without their leader to stop them, decided that
discretion was the better part of valor and started to flee. Tanuvein, however,
was not feeling merciful enough to let them go, and so he summoned an air
elemental to finish them off.

*
(A few minutes after the battle)

Most of the group was tending to their numerous wounds and retrieving materials
of value from the dead mercenaries. The battle had been quite bloody, though not
nearly as much so as it would have been, had the group not had the advantage of
surprise on their side.

Tanuvein, quite unhurt, waded through the corpses, looking for Stanislo. He
didn't have to search long; the gnome was lying dead in one of the tents, having
been shot multiple times, apparently by one of the mercenaries that had
attacked. Too bad, the elf thought. I would have liked to tortute him before I
killed him. One thing is for sure though... Graylor will follow soon enough.

VERY LATE DAY 9

"Lucky bastard..."

He kicked Stanislo almost nonchalantly, looking around. He stood erect, in a
somewhat graceful, and lazy manner. Any, though, who had seen him, would know
better.
This apparent, careless poise was a pretense to danger.
He still held his sword and golden dagger in hand.
He was completely draped in blood. Long strands of gore, organic tissue and
blood hanged from his body.
His flesh and hair was matted with a large amount of blood.
He had to have killed nearly half of those men himself.

He had weave through them like a dance, leaving them dismember, mutilated, and,
for those lucky enough, simply dead. He was a tornado, reaping through the crops
of men and leaving only death.
Occasionally, like the storm of the tornado, the earth split, or fire and
lightning spewed forth.
If the frightening speed and brutality of his massacre did not draw wide mouthed
stares from his companions, his apparent joy at the act would have.

He was death on two feet. An effecient weapon making no distinguish in who he
left dead.
He was like a demon, born in a mortal body to take lifes from this world.

And he enjoyed it as blood rained from the sky.

Several moments later, his wind elemntal comes back. There is a limp man in his
arms, a dagger in his chest. Tanuvein cursed. Apparently, the man had killed
himself.

"Damn you Kander, you think you were let of easily? Why did you tell Graylor
where I was ?
Why! Do not worry, you will not miss the pain. I will summon you back to life
just to torture you to death over and over.
Why did you turn the Order against me? Peace was almost here. No matter, these
were hired thugs. My spies have already sent word back to headquarters. All
loyal to you will awaken with a slit throat. Jharak will rule over them until I
return. The only loose end is Graylor. And soon, that loose end will be
snipped."

He walked away, his wind elemental, as well as several other elementals he
summoned, vanishing.
He tossed something into the canopy of corpses. They immediately burst into
flame.

DAY 9

***** Meanwhile once again in the Tomb of SIMORP. ****

'I said where is the scroll worm.'

The hapless Graylor gasped for breath and just managed to say.

'Here soon mistress'

With that comment he fell to the floor heavily, landing on one of the arcs
bodies that lay at the foot of the bone hone.

'Good worm, good. WHY do you delay, get it, I cannot wait. I have waited years
untold to find such a one, she reeks of power undiscovered and Elfin touch. Come
tell me once more what you have discovered about her.'

'Mistress !' Graylor said bowing before her.

Suddenly from an outsde the throne room the constant screams were noticed and
with a nod of her head 2 large umberhulks entered the room carrying the figure
of a mercanary.

'What have we here' she purred in spite 'a mercanary, what is he doing here
Graylor.'

'Mistress I know not, If you allow me time I will find out'

' You have one hour Graylor, one hour, then... I will question him !'

'Yes mistress' he replyed, already thinking of ways to avoid the truth that SHE
must NEVER FIND.

DAY 9

SOMETIME AROUND MIDNIGHT

His mind wandered from past, to present, to future.

Doromond simply couldn't help it. It was just past midnight, and he just
couldn't get himself to go to sleep. Tomorrow, he thought, is going to be one of
the hardest tests I've had to endure yet... almost out of random curiousity, he
reached over toward his sword, pulling it partway out of its sheath, examining
it in detail.

It appeared to be a fairly simply steel sword, 38 inches long, with a silver-
plated hilt and black wooden handle.
Near the hilt, there were three runes engraved on both sides of the blade.

Faith, Courage, and Hope were what the three runes represented, Doromond
remembered, and the sword hummed softly as he grasped it.
His father once owned this sword, he thought, as his mind drifted back to
slightly over a year ago...

*
At the time, he had been living in a rural village called Windhaven, located
only a few miles from Caladon, and he had made a living performing various odd
jobs since he was sixteen years old. In addition, he had earned some admiration
from the residents of the village, since Windhaven's proximity to Caladon was
not enough to discourage the occasional bandit raid, and Doromond had been
called upon more than once to aid in the defense of Windhaven.

Though Doromond rarely stayed in the village for more than a month or two at a
time, it was still the closest thing to a permanent home he had.

One day, there was a courier waiting outside his small house, with a message
from Qintarra. Opening and reading it, he found out that it was from his aunt
Khelina:

"Doromond,

About a year ago, I found a few things that belonged to your father, along with
a letter asking that I give these things to you when you came of age, if he
wasn't here to do that himself. Ever since, I have been trying to locate you,
until now. Meet me outside the University of Magick in Caladon, at noon
tomorrow.

Your loving aunt,

- Khelina Delari"

Doromond couldn't help but chuckle at the "loving" part at the time. Typical
Khelina.
She may have tolerated the half-elf and taking care of him periodically, but she
cared little for what she thought of as a "bastard child." She did care about
Doromond's father, though, and his request was likely the only reason she even
went to the effort to contact Doromond. Well, I'll find out what the haughty
witch wants with me tomorrow, won't I? he mused.

And, in fact, he did find out. Because that day, he had been presented with both
the sword he owned now, and a leather-bound spellbook, along with a letter that
his father had written years ago, before his disappearance:

"My beloved son, Doromond...

If you have recieved this letter, then sadly, it is because my duty has
prevented me from returning to you. Do not mourn for me, though, for I shall
always be watching over you. There are also two things that I wish to pass on to
you.

The first, is a spellbook that I have prepared for you. Though much of it may
seem incomprehensible to you now, with time and dedicated study, you will be
able to understand the spells contained within, and possibly even surpass me in
power.

The second, is a sword that once belonged to me. Though it may appear to be a
simple weapon, do not let that decieve you; it is powerfully enchanted, and can
only be wielded by one of the Delari bloodline, such as yourself. Though it may
behave like a conventional sword in your hands now, as your understanding of
magick grows deeper, you will be able to unlock more of it's power.

You may also be inclined to study in the application of Science, for which, I
shall bear no grudge against you, and in fact, wholeheartedly encourage you to
do, if you fell that is the right path. No matter what direction you take,
though, there is no doubt in my mind that you will not only survive, but excel.

May you never lose hope, no matter what.

- Velorim Delari"

Doromond couldn't help but breath a heavy sigh as he remembered his past, even
as he chastised himself for his sentimentality. Faith, Courage, and Hope, he
thought, again. As long as he held on to these things, anything was possible. He
let out another sigh. Better get some sleep, he told himself. It might be the
last chance I have on this world.

REMEMERANCES IN THE NIGHT

Tanuvein stared at the dead, at Kanders body, at the ones who had stood in his
path. Many have died by his hand, a small fragment in his swath of destruction.
Millions lie in graves because of him. He was death; Destroyer of Worlds. He was
an abomination. A weapon created of desperation.

He saw the gory heaps of flesh and bone around him. The murder of those that
would of as soon died for him if he had the right price.

He remembered, so long ago... on his world. He was not natice to this world.
But, on his world...

**
~The World of Keryn Tier

City New Malkyer

War of the Pure

Tidal waves of soldiers fought before him, begind him, all around him. Arrows
rained from the sky, fire and eruptions of spells echoing through the air.
Tanuvein ran through it all, regardless of the pleas of his allies for him to
stay. He killed. He massacred.

By the dozens, by hundreds, in herds of thousands men died at his feet, rended
asunder by his godly rage. Blood rained around him, death trailed behind him. He
was killing, massacring, men with families, with dreams, with hopes. Men that,
under the right circumstances, he would die for.

And they would die for him. They died at his feet, merely another obstacle in
his path. All died before him. That was the decree: Allie with him, or be burned
by him in a pyre. He was death, the destroyer of worlds.

He was in ecstacy at their pain.

Cursed with immortality, cursed with a purpose from the gods. He was but a pawn.
A pawn that reaped death.

New Malkyer, in their ignorance, would not join his empire. He was a an elf, and
unpure. And they were world by Graylor. Graylor the Betryer. A man who would
suffer any indignity, any amout of torment and pain to strike at Tanuvein. And
the feeling was mutual. Tanuvein could almost see the vampiric elf, something
beyond godhood, pulling strings. He had done this, he had made Atlantea, born of
the Emperess of the Horde, when she forced Tanuvein to give her child.

She was his daughter.

She was his enemy.

And now, several hours after the battle began, she was knelt before him, a rope
around her neck, her wrist binded. She looked up at Tanuvein, her father, with
pleading eyes. She begged for forgivness, for mercy.

She wanted to be left free. Wanted to be left free after her army had butchered
every leaving thing from here to the Spine of the World. She wanted mercy from a
weapon. A thing incapable of mercy.

He could forgive her for the pain she caused him. But not for the pain she had
caused coutnless others.

"Hang her."

**

He saw the death around him. He dove into the freezing water, washing the blood,
and the memories away.

He was a weapon. A thing without emotions.

DAY 9

*** IN THE INNER SANCTUM OF SIMORP ***

'Things were not going as planned.' thought Graylor. The list was endless

First that stupid plant in the party ad been unable to find the scroll.

Second. Now he was dead, his beacon on the workdesk, dull with the signs of
death.

Third the stupid, stupid mercanrys.. Why did one of them have to blunder into
HER web, WHY did he have to be alive.

IF he didnt find a way soon, then SHE might find out, and all the planning, all
the effort would be in vein.

"DAM IT " he said suddenly."DAM, DAM DAM "

"I will have it, I will, IF I have to search HER entire complex, I will find
it.'

But that was just a distraction for what he was to do with the mercernry.

Then it came to him. He slowly bent over the looser, and looking deep into his
eys, did the only thing that could be done.

10 minutes later the (NOW MINDLESS) mercanry tried to escape the tomb by
attacking the guards on his way to the room of bones.

His death was quick and his blood and flesh fed the hungry in the rooms below.

***************** IN THE ROOM OF BONES **************

Jacinta lay on the alter, her breathing was almost nonexistant as the vision of
death swam befor her eyes. Simorp bent closer and started wispering n her ear.

The room began to glow and (IF you had watched carfully)a brief glimps of one
body, two spirits, drifted accross the room.

Just as quickly the vision vanished and Jacintas body showed signs of healing,
while Simorp look weaker and her illusion of beauty even more hollow.

'Bring... me ... some... the ... sacrafice.. ' she said laboriously.

The remanig guards left and returned with a small wizen old man. He looked
startled and was trying with all his might to say something, yet could not as
his vocal cords where hld in a magical vice like grip.

'So....... Nacro.... you... have.. come to pay.... your debt.. have you....' The
figure before her nodded violently NO..

'Dose... not matter...' she said ' You will pay anyway.'

And with that the old mans frame was seen to shrivel and waste before her eyes,
as her shape filled out, was renewed, restored.

'Send for Graylor' she barked ' He has had enought time'

DAY 10

BEFORE DAWN

-SNAP- The last pieces were fitted together.

Too late for the ambush but now he would be able to do what his people have
always done best. Hamfast studied the newly assembled pistol. Thanks to a few
items stripped from the mercenaries He was able to convert one of his weapons
with a hushing mechanism.

"These big folk know nothing about stealth. Even that elf, Tanuvein, makes more
noise than he ought. He's bloody fortunate that blade got no closer to me
earlier. Too much noise, not enough sense. That's big folk for you."

Hamfast now turned his attention to Uncle Oxo's repeater rifle, loading it just
as he had the hushed pistol. The party was going to need a scout when dawn came.
And, he was ready to steal the rings off Simorp's hands if necessary.

He padded off to talk to these new halfling bodyguards.

DAY 10

As morning dawns on a new day the battle area is still alive with night
creatures eating the scraps of the previous nights battles.

Dr Monti rose slowly and notice that there was no food cooking, then remembered
that both Tim and Jim where still abed resting after there heroic
stand last night.

He looked out over the red and black field that lay before him and noticed the
two hafling on guard talking to Hamfast.

Momentarily returning to his tent he retrieved the scroll that he had retrieved
from Tanuvein only 2 days earlier and taking his special eyeglasses from its
protective wrapping He once again left the tent and proceeded to sit on the
rocks that lay near the campfire.

He was deeply absorbed in his search for the secret of the scroll when he felt
someone come from behind.

Glancing round he saw no one, realising mage work was afoot he stood quickly,
shouted warning and cast Temporal fugit, moved way from where he had been and
then opened a hell gate.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE, the party was in uproar, no enemy could be seen, yet
somehow the enemy was near.

Tim and Jim lumbered from their tents to be tripped by invisible cords that
criss crossed their tent entrance, bringing the tent down upon them.

The Halflings quickly came to Montis side, eagerly looking for the prey.

Princess Longshaft appeared as out of nowhere and was surrounded by a soft glow
of light that was obviously some sort of protection field.

Still Monti could sense the enemy near, but could not see them.

Tanuvein arrived along with Doromond, Firebrand and Perinio and the remaining
Elf guard.

Nothing happened, no sound was heard, all was still, then darkness descended
over a small patch of ground, the Daemon attacked the darkness, shots and arrows
flew towards it and spells where said.

An eerie scream caterwauled from the darkness; its shapelessness began to
collapse and finally blinked out of existence.

Firebrand approached and said 'What was that' Monti and the Elf's looked at
Firebrand and said nothing, finally the princess leaned close to him and
whispered in his ear.

His face paled, he looked ill, sat down with quick unnatural movements and was
violently sick.

The party was shocked, as one they rushed to Firebrands aid.

MIDDAY DAY 10

Hours later Firebrand was still laid up in care looking deathly ill, Monti was
seen to be talking to the princess and Tanuvein.

Doromond, Hamfast, Tim & Jim and Perino where sitting in a small group near the
main camp preparing weapons, devices and other things needed for the assault on
the tomb.

Time passed and finally the huddle broke and the Princess came over and sat down
gracefully amidst the group, while Monti entered Firebrands tent after calling
young Hamfast over. Tanuvein moved off and was followed at a distance
by Doromond, who had seen him leave.

An hour later Monti emerged with Firebrand, who even thought he looked like
death warmed up was obviously better.

The group gathered as DR Firebrand spoke.

'I have been cursed, it is now lifted, but the curse was the same used in the
tomb last time on Tim and Jim. That thing was the agent of the curse. If not for
the Princess and Brother Nikko's remedy and prays I would not be here now.

Simorp has used an agent of the DARK ONE, that is why the curse was so quick.

Monti and Tanuvein and the Princess agree that this could only have been done at
terrible cost to the caster, or terrible sacrifice to call forth the agent.

This leaves us certain knowledge, SHE has a new power source, or victims, she
has remained sane as a LICH and her power increases, but slowly, finally she has
used all her available forces currently available to her in her attacks on us.

Which is good news. HOWEVER certain things must be taken for granted, SHE has
forces within the TOMB and she is and was aware of our purpose since the
beginning.

Stanislo was a traitor, as yet we know not why, but he has been informing her of
our every move since we left Tarant.

I have thought on these things. We will attack tomorrow. Today the Princess will
fetch reinforcements and guards to secure our camp.

Hamfast you will return with the Princess to your father and ask him for some
small help, then you will deliver this to him.' Firebrand hands Hamfast a sealed
note.

The rest of us will secure this area and prepare for the guards.

One thing more, this has gone beyond a small quest but I can say without doubt
that mere treasure is no longer our goal. I say now, I would happily give my
share of rewards for Jacintas life !'

With that Firebrand finished and went about making preparations

DAY 10

HILLS DAILY newspaper. (When only the best News is needed)

Item 1:STRANGE REPORTS FROM Caladonian

It was reported today that the Caladonian military have been seen on maneuvers
near the Buckland Estates. The master of the estates was unavailable for
questions and when pressed our reporter was shown off the estate by a rather
large orc. (See full details inside)

Item 2: Rumors abound of movements of Elf kindred towards the plain of
desolation.

At the moment we cannot find conformation of this item, However a group of 20
Elf archers was seen heading towards the plains last night.

ITEM 3: MOUNTAIN PASS OPENED

This morning the mountain pass into the plains of desolation was found open. A
passing traveler brought news that Clan Firebrand (mountain dwarfs from south of
Arcanum) were seen at the impasse, working fevioushly.

ITEM 4: DISAPERANCE OF FAMED MAGE

Mage Nacro has disappears from Hillast. Although at this stage authority have no
leads Mage Nacro was know to be in the forefront of anti Tech activities.

Authorities speculate that he fell foul of Techs out to revenge the recent
destruction of the munition factory in Hillast.

ITEM 5: DODGEY BROTHERS OPEND BRANCH IN Caladon

Dodgey brothers have opened a branch office in Caladon. The opening of this
office is a surprise to all concerned as Dodgey Brothers Chairman "SCRATCH"
recently suffered the loss of his only daughter in a freak accident on the
plains of disappear.

Sources within Dodgey brothers state that they are expanding to meet demand for
there goods.

BACK AT HOME ?
TIME FOR A REST ?

Oyarsa took the letter Hamfast handed to him. Without opening it he sat at his
writing desk and penned two quick notes, differing only in address. The ringing
a small bell brought Hamfast's younger brother, Brego, into the room.

"Brego, see that these get to Uncle Oxo and Uncle Oro. They are needed with
great haste. Take Northumberland as a guard and stay on the patrolled roads. No
gallavanting across fields to save a few minutes. Safe, silent haste."

Turning back to his oldest son. "Hamfast, return quickly with the princess and
assure Dr. Monti that promised help will arrive soon. Uncle Oxo will want his
repeater rifle back, you know."

A quick nod, Hamfast replied, "I expected as much, but it will be great sport to
see my uncles working in tandem."

"Hold to your own tasks, son, lest they bring me only ill news. And take this,
there is enough of this cordial for each of your companions to enjoy a small
draught." Oyarsa pulls a wine flagon out of the desk. The label reads Caladon
Crimson, 1755. "Son, you know the potency and rarity of this vintage, a small
draught will brighten spirits. Any more and you will all only be spirits."

And with a small bow to the Princess, "Ma'am, may your trees be fragrant in
spring and well watered in high summer."

******-
Oro glared at his class. "Do you oversized oafs believe height has any bearing
on the force of will? Do you? Mr. Bascom, try and summon a fireflash aimed at my
lectern. Yes, the lectern. No, you twice too big lob, you will not be held
responsible by the headmaster."

Young Mr. Bascom eyes twitched and narrowed. Sweat began to trickle then stream
down his face. Suddendly, he slumped to the floor. A young helf-elf raising his
hand inquired, "Professor Proudfoot, should we get some aid?"

Oro, nonplussed, continued to shuffle chalk around. "No, a little rest on the
floor will restore Mr. Bascom, and his humility. Now, can anyone tell me what
just occurred?
No? Quite simple. I referenced the Meta College to dampen Mr. Bascom's willed
effect. This is . . . "

Brego Buckland crawls through the window. "Uncle, father sent me with this. I
have another for Uncle Oxo. Should I take it or can you?"

"Thank you, nephew. No I will stop by Oxo's on my way." Turning back to his
charges, "Class is dismissed and will be postponed until I return." His voice
trailing off as he vanished from sight.

******
"Another round of ammunition or a couple stun grenades. Grenades." Tunk. Tunk.
Captain Proudfoot closed up his pack just as Oro materialized in his office.
"Brother, good to see you, I'm ready."

Oro nods, steps towards his brother and both fade from sight.

NOTE: SOME BACKGROUND FOR OUR READERS:

Oro Proudfoot-accompished user of magick with Mastery of the Meta College and
experience in Conveyance, Air, and Temporal. He is hyperactive, edgy and
extremely difficult to score a hit on.

Oxo Proudfoot-Captain in the Caladonian army. Weapons and explosives expert in
charge of training the newly formed Covert Demolition (CoverDem) company. As a
corporal he took out two half-ogres and a dwarf in a bar brawl and is still
considered one of the Caladonian Army's best melee instructors. He prefers
repeater rifles and grenades and has brought only stun grenades to this fight
with Simorp.

DAY 11

As morning dawned on the now cramped camp, numerous dwarf and elfin warriors
were seen making redoubts traps and defenses some 200 meters from the entrance
to the tomb.

Other smaller figures where seen scurrying this way and that, carrying supplies
and goods through a Portal that Princess Longshaft held open off to one side.

The company watch as finally Hamfast stepped through the portal accompanied by
two-unidentified Halfling.

Stepping form the cluttered entrance they made their way to Firebrands lodgings
(now guarded by two sought dwarfs in shiny plate mail. 'My Uncles Oro Proudfoot,
MAGE and Captain Oxo Proudfoot of the Caladonian army, currently on
extended leave.' Hamfast said matter of fact.

Firebrand reached out and shook the new arrival's hands vigorously.

'Get the rest of the party will you Perinio' he said 'And tell them we meet in
10 minutes near the cooks tent'

'I' he said and sped off.

'Hamfast did your father send a reply ?' he asked innocently

'Well, NO.' replied Hamfast 'but He did say that you should expect one soon, but
I think that may come by pony' he continued as the Princess closed the portal
and moved off to oversea defense's preparation.

'Hum. I see. Well I had hoped you had the reply. Still, I appreciate the help
sent and it is what I asked for.'

Taking Hamfast he asked quietly 'I needed some scouts, I had hoped your father
would send someone who is shall we say, Skilled in entry and exits undetected
and able to "liberate" things if required. Did he mention this ?'

Hamfast thought. 'Father was busy with thoughts on our current predicament. I
was helping the princess with supplies. SO I have no idea what he did after I
left
him.'

Firebrand looked worried.

He decided that now was the time to tell the plan to the party, to reveal his
ideas for revenge. His thoughts on JUST WHAT he would like to do.

DAY 11

IN CAMP AFTER THE ZEPLIN HAS LANDED

"Dr. Firebrand? A word if I may. Shall we step over here, out of the casual
listener's ears?" beckoned Oxo. "My cousin has put strict orders on Hamfast to
keep his, shall we say, quieter pursuits in abeyance. I have no doubt that
Oyarsa has already provided you with a scout. And he the best to be mustered at
this short notice. If you have doubts or reservations I can arrange a little
test, but, If you would indulge me a brief story I think I can give you cause
enough to send Hamfast up as scout."

"Three years ago when I was promoted to Captain, much of my family came to the
ceremonies. During the evening Hamfast approached me with a small bundle and
asked that I return a few items to their owners. The lad had liberated the ID's
from my entire company in the course of the afternoon! Mind you, my company is
mine in part because stealth is part of our service in the army. I also
understand from the lad that he recently constructed his own hushed pistol. If
that is so, our scout has been among your party all along."

(Evening, Day 11)

Near the campfire, Doromond pored over the crude map of the tomb, burning it
into his memory, as the last remnants of sunlight gave way to dusk. He knew the
map was horrendously incomplete, detailing only the first part of the tomb, and
that it couldn't depict what would be waiting for the group, but it was still
information on what was ahead, and that always helped. Finally, he stood up,
took a deep breath, and brushed his hair back from his face. As he did, he felt
a sudden chill come over him, and a strange presence... the half-elf drew his
pistol as he looked around, trying to find the source of this presence, to no
avail, before he heard a whispering voice...

"Doromond..."

He ran off as quietly as he could in the direction of the voice, trying to track
its source down, as it kept repeating his name. A few minutes later, he came to
a small grove, one that felt unnaturally cold. Pistol drawn, Doromond carefully
stalked the area, using the trees and brush for cover as he moved around in
search of the source of the voice, never expecting it to find him first. The
grove was lit by an eerie, supernatural glow, as a familiar shade strode into
the half-elf's view...

"... Jacinta?"

"Doromond..." she said in a pained voice that stabbed at his heart. "I have
little time, so you must listen to me... Simorp... she plans to revive me,
though I don't know what for. As powerful as she is, though, she doesn't have
the power to do it on her own. She needs a certain scroll, one that Dr. Monti is
in possession of. She doesn't know of this, but Graylor, her lieutenant, does,
and he is desperate to get it before she finds out he doesn't have it.

You must... warn Dr. Monti..." she stammered out as the shade began to blur and
distort at random. "and... you must... hurry... please..." With that final plea,
she faded from view entirely, leaving a surprised Doromond to think over what he
had just seen and heard. He barely even noticed that somebody had followed him.

"Doromond? What happened? Are you okay?" It was Dr. Monti's voice.

"Jacinta... she's alive.... or she will be, soon. We have to hurry..." Doromond
could barely believe it at all.

"Jacinta? What's going on?"

Doromond didn't get a chance to answer, because a few seconds later, Dr.
Firebrand caught up with the two, looking quite visibly disturbed. Both of the
half-elves asked him what was wrong, but he didn't say anything. All three of
them returned to the camp without saying a word.

Okay, that's it for now

NIGHT OF DAY 11

LATER..

The news was foul.

Jacinta was alive and Simorp was behind it all trying to restore her for some
foul deed.

What's more he had lent the scroll to the princess and she had been busy
examaning it when the news came.

'Dam' he thought 'Now I'll have to change my plans'

The briefing had gone well, only one problem Tanuvein and Doromond had not liked
the part where Hamfast scouted the entrance hall until Monti had pointed out
that not only were Halfling excellent at these type of things, but that the
Princess would "TAG" Hamfast and if he was in trouble Portal him out whatever
the cost.

After that most of them had agreed that it was a sound plan.

BASIC NOTES ON PLAN:

A) Hamfast scouts entrance and if possible first area near main doors.
B) After his return regroup and take out nearest enemy

1. Elf arches and 6 dwarf fighters secure tomb entrance

2. Clan Firebrand remaining dwarf's take ground near entrance and fortify
stronghold for party to retire to.

3. Take entrance Tanuvein, Monti and Princess, supported by Oro Proudfoot, MAGE
and Captain Oxo Proudfoot with stun grenades.

4. Secure main entrance, check for traps.

5. Take first & second rooms and secure. Team 1: Monti, Oro, Hamfast, Doromond &
JIM (additional dwarf / Elf as backup) Team 2: Firebrand, Oxo, Princess, Tim &
Perinio (additional dwarf / Elf as backup)

6. Take next rooms and prepare for repulse, ensure rooms secure and trap against
entry by opposition.

***************

All that planning was now in jeopardy. If Jacinta was alive (and there was no
guarantee that the image had been Jacinta, then her rescue was important., and
the news about the scroll was troubling. The Princess was still looking at it
and Monti was leaning over her shoulder on one side while Tanuvein looked over
the other.

Unexpectantly Tanuvein looked troubled and was silent till the Princess spoke in
Elfish to him., then he looked pained and replied.

Monti was also troubled and was starting to become agitated when the Princess
stood and walked over to me and said.

'Whoever spoke to Doromond was right, in part. The scroll will certainly be able
to be used for reviving Jacinta if she survived, however what the vision did not
say was that it also contains a binding spell, which is what Dr Monti used in
the tomb before, also a resurrection / renewal spell. BUT its this part of the
scroll that worries me the most' she pointed at the part that had been the bain
of them.

'With Tanuvein help and Dr Monti's also I have been able to approximate what is
says. Roughly, it is a HOLD PORTAL spell. But, and hears the problem. It's not
like any Portal spell I have ever seen.

What I believe is that all three spells together form a triad of work would
provide a permanent access to Arcanum.'

'And' interrupted Monti, 'would provide Simorp with the ability to take over any
body she chose for a vessel to rest in.'

'Yes' continued the Princess 'But what's more important is that whomever used
the full triad of spells in the right order, would be able to control the
Portal, bind whomever came through it and be able to control them, WITHOUT any
cost to themselves.'

'SO in other words this scroll is ' interrupted Hamfast

'YES!' said the mages as one.

DAY 12.

Day dawned and the sun came up over the northern horizon, like it had always
done. The local wildlife scuttled about it business of survival, (now severely
diminished with all the Dwarf traffic) and the local fauna (those that could)
packed up there roots and left.

Around 6 am the first of the straggling Firebrand clan arrived, still dusty from
clearing the road, and they began, (after some direction from one of the Dwarf
kindred stationed near Firebrands tent) to make earthworks and strong positions
within the camp, ensuring its continued safety.

Of course all this noise woke whoever had managed to remain sleeping from the
party, (Not that anyone would admit that they had slept.) Although later some
said that they had had the best sleep in days, with the perimeter patrolled and
guarded by elf's and dwarfs.

The parties gather as one when Firebrand emerged from his tent followed by two
stout guards.

'My fellow adventures, last nights plan must change slightly. There is a faint
chance that Jacinta lives.' (Interest from the party rose, including those fresh
to the endeavor.) 'Last night Doromond was visited by a vision which said it was
Jacinta, and that she was alive.' Doromond nodded.

'This of course changes nothing, and changes everything at the same time' ,
again the party nodded.

'Of course we must consider that it was a trick, but also It may have been real.
Now on the off change it was real, there are now concerns for Jacinta, which
must be, take into our plans.' Again the party nodded.

I still believe that most of today's plan is sound however I must also take
steps to secure some small toehold within the Tomb today, as a permanent area.
From this area the princess has assured me that members of our party will be
able to 'senses' Jacinta and communicate with her, if she lives.'

'Hamfast, you will still scout the entrance, however Doromond will be on watch
with Monti and Oxo near the entrance, since we cannot now portal you as this
would alert Simorp to our strength here.' Hamfast nodded, collected his hush
pistol, soft boots, lockpicks and daggers, and readied himself to go.

' Team 2 will take the entrance after Hamfast's debriefing, followed by Team 1.
After the first rooms are secure 4 dwarf miners will enter the tomb and widen
the entrance to permit easy access, while we hold the area.'

All nodded, all was prepared..

DAY 11

He stood aside, waiting for the time to go. He stood watching at the entrance,
glowering with unbridaled hate. Graylor was there. Graylor, the man that had
raped Tanuvein's wife and sent her to hell. Graylor, the man who had betrayed
Tanuvein in everyway possible. Graylor, the man who had left entire
civilizations wiped out with the Black Plague he had long ago created. And he
thought himself justified.

He could not care about what was going to happen here today. He would live even
if everyone died. Not that he wanted to of course, it isn't like he had a
choice. But he would find Graylor the Betrayer once again. He had to be
cautious. Graylor could feel him, he knew, and would take precautions to such.
They had both ascended above what they were, and had both lost everything. They
were once best friends. They had so much in common now, that they could be
friends again, but for one thing. Love was a memory; pain was extinguishable;
torment was everlasting; friendship was a lie; happiness did not exist; Revenge
was all consuming.

That is all they could feel, anymore. The lust for revenge. It swallowed them
like a passionate fire, burning away everything else. One would not come out of
this a free man. One would be a slave after this.

Those who got between them tonight, would be torn into nothing in a heartbeat.

DAY 12

Hamfast returned from his expedition. He was helped back by Doromond who carried
him gently in his arms.

Monti and the Princess were quickly on the scene followed by Oxo and Oro, who
looked concerned at their nephew's condition.

'He's pretty bad. He looks like he's been tortured, see the lacerations on his
left side' pointed Doromond 'their burn marks and his left leg appears broken'

The rest of the party arrived, Tanuvein examined the Halflinga and swore in
Elfish, the Princess and Monti set about healing him, although he would heal, I
was concerned that whatever had happened to him would blight his life but Oxo
and Oro where there and spoke in there own tongue to him, where upon Oxo said
'He will recover in. He will remember, but he will recover.'

Oro looked over and said to me quietly 'Nothing is broken, and he has learnt a
valuable lesson, expensive but valuable.'

We waited about an hour before Hamfast was able to talk.

When he finally did I was no longer concerned for him. He had a new steel in his
eyes I have see only in seasoned warriors, yet I saw the same when I examined
his.

NOTE FROM HAMFAST:

1. Entrance is free and the first area is clear except for some minor traps.

2. The First room is occupied by a mage and some Granite rats.

3. The second room is full of supplies and is guarded by an Umberhulk

4. The third room (formally a trapped door) is open and is a library of sorts
with parchments, scrolls and desks.

5. The fifth room has 20 to 30 kytes residing and has traps near the entrance

At this point Hamfast told of his capture. It was as he was making his way to
the next room that several things happened at once, all conspiring to lead to
his capture.

First the magic detector I had given him was detection STRONG magical force
coming from within the next room.

Second he was concentrating so intently on the readings that he failed to notice
the spiked trap that lay at his feet.

Finally he heard a female scream coming from within the room, and stepping
forward to try to glimpse, who lay within, activated the trap.

The trap closed on his leg with the extreme force, breaking the skin and almost
breaking the leg. Hamfast held his tongue, but it was too late, whomever was in
the room had heard the trap close, swung open the door quickly, saw the halfing
in pain and wrenched him from the ground, trap and all, to be flung into a well
lit corner where expert hands stripped him of his weapons.

Hamfast examined his capture. He was slightly pale, Elfin in appearance, with a
scar that reach across his almost bear chest from shoulder almost to the waist.
The garments worn by the Elf where strange to behold, almost, but not quite see
through glimpses of strange beasts could be seen embroidered on the clothing and
throughout the figures strange writing could be see to almost glow.

The elf himself was old, (for an elf he looked old) as if something had taken
away his Elfin youth. Never in all his life had Hamfast seen an Elf who looked
old, never.

The search completed Hamfast was chained to a wall, plain in site he could see a
female form, (Not, he noticed, Jacintas) resting on a silken bed against the far
wall her death was obvious as blood flowed from the numerous cuts seen on her
reviled form.

Next to him another form hung, that of Stanislo, the twisted, deformed remains
of Stanislo.

'No' thought Hamfast 'Not Stanislo, someone who looked enough like Stanislo to
pass for him. The remains moved and looked at him, moved again and breathed,
moved again ad spoke in whispers 'so. Captured are we, come to play ?'

Hamfast took in the rest of the scene, the Elf was, No had just resurrected the
female on the bed who looked pleased as her wounds healed, she leapt off the bed
and hugged the Elf, saw Hamfast pouted and said 'A new toy ?'

The Elf shook his head and turned his attention on him, He did not know the name
of the Elf he faced but he suspected he would not want to know.

Suddenly Hamfast lost control, his bodily functions happened and there was an
evil grin of the Elf facing him.

'Lost control have we ?' he enquired sarcastically. 'SO tell me who you are, and
why you're here.'

Hamfast remembered telling all, everything, anything, he couldn't stop, He
started whit his childhood, then his lief up until the present. This didn't seem
to take much time, although it was punctuated by the occasional whip stroke when
he stumbled over words or explanations became confused.

Eventually the Elf released him and Hamfast vomited blood after a particularly
nasty Force punch the Elf used.

'Hum, well youth, today is your lucky day, I will be more merciful than you
deserve.'

DAY 12

CONTINUES IN DISPARE

Hamfast fell as the chains where released, he was kicked as he fell, and the
dried up figure on the wall cackled. 'Return to your companions, tell them I
will be lenient.'

He was kicked again. 'Tell them, tell Tanuvein the stupid tell Tanuvein the
hopeless, tell him. Yes tell him THE SCROLL OR YOUR LIFE !

Yes that's all tell them all THE SCROLL OR YOUR LIVES !' and with that Hamfast
was taken by two large orcs from the room, his goods were thrown thought the
entrance followed by his battered body.

SCRATCH

DAY 12

LATER THAT DAY.

The party was not happy. Most of the members where debating the oncoming battle
and there was some minor disagreements between the Elves as to what to do about
the third room.

Hamfast had recovered but would not be taking part in today's assault, having
been told by Monti & Firebrand that he had 'Done enough today'. But not in a
nasty sense as they quickly assured him that his information was invaluable.

I watched as the news that Stanislo was / is alive was told and noticed concern
showing in Doromond and Tanuvein faces as he muttering something in Elfish about
powers and something I didn't quite get. I don't think he knows that I speak
Elfish and have been quiet about it. I know that no one has told him, although
the Princess and Monti of course know, I doubt that many others do.

I have decided to let them discuss Hamfasts news for another ten minutes, and
then I will lay my plan out.

I of course had not foreseen this complication but I believe that Oxo and Oro
have provided me with the items we will need to assault the tomb. As to the
obvious mage in room three. Lets see what stun grenades can do to his abilities.

Well I left them for 10 minutes and not much new was discussed.

One thing of note Hamfast said 'There's a Tech down there too' This intrigued me
so I got him aside and asked why 'The traps where very professional, dangerous
and mechanical, Of course the magical traps I could not judge, but there is
Definitely a Tech down there.'

This gave me cause for thought. A tech in league WITH Simorp was unthinkable as
the two are diametrically opposed, BUT a Tech working FOR her was another
matter.

DATE UNKNOWN

GHENT IS SUMMONED TO THE ROOM OF BONES

Things were happening. Big things.

The activities of the under-denizens had increased dramatically, and with their
increase came more news from the surface. Always the party had advanced nearer,
and with each passing day Ghent saw the opportunities he thought he had slip
further away.

"She wishes to see you again." A voice from behind him caused him to start
momentarily, caught vulnerable in introspection. Turning around, he saw a
creature standing before him, high on balanced legs and completely alien to the
above world. One of his own design, he saw. All the same, it was careful
to stay away from the Technologist and within the dark hallway outside of the
small living cell, as the field surrounding Ghent was one that was apt to cause
even magicks of great strength to begin to stress or even come apart at the
seams.

Working here with - no, for - Simorp has changed me, and I fear not for the
better. I never did that to magick before. I am stronger, it is true - here the
mouth twisted itself into a ghost of a smile - but...I feel more unglued now.
Things are less real.

"Of course. I am here merely to serve and to receive that which I am given."
Ghent rose wearily and let the magickal-mechanical construct move a safe
distance away before he walked out of the room, leaning heavily on a staff rife
with cables and with a single voltmeter on the top as he did so. Careful to
close the door and keep precious blueprints and schematics safe from mold and
dust, Ghent walked down the corridor, head bent and deep in meditation. How can
I--? She would not have wanted it this way, but it is gone. Dead. Here the gaunt
figure stopped and leaned ever more heavily upon the staff. Dead. Ghent lurched
foward, and a hapless creature stumbled into his unnaturally-enhanced
field of aptitude as he did so. It screamed as half of the processes that drove
its body halted and it turned into a lifeless chemical mechanism. It crumbled to
dust, mere constituent elements, and a gleaming metallic chamber fell to the
ground from where it was once suspended in a ribcage.

Ghent stared down at the creature and recognized it as he had the first one. It
was one of the original designs he had made, in a time of innocence when he had
her inspiration and dreams of a world of magick and technology united seemed
attainable. And what have I to show for it? It is all becoming nothing.
Unto dust. He stepped over the pile that was once a living creature and strode
onward to the room of bones.

Day 12 Afternoon

Team 1: Monti, Oro, Hamfast(excused), Doromond & JIM (additional dwarf / Elf as
backup)

Team 2: Firebrand, Oxo, Princess, Tim & Perinio (additional dwarf / Elf as
backup)

The attack on the main entrance was going smoothly. Hamfast's observations were
invaluable and Team 1 & 2 where working well.

Team 1 made its way cautiously to the tome entrance followed closely by team 2.

Team one (Oxo and myself) disabled the traps (spike, spring loaded and Pit), I
unlimbered my 4 Arachnoids and sent two into the entrance tunnel. There was a
flash lightning and they crumpled in form to my eyes.

We followed (the mage trap now disabled) and entered the tunnel complex followed
by the rest of team one and Team 2.

We prepared the grenades, opened the door to room three, looked round the room
form the crack using some mirrors I had brought for that purpose, seeing noting
I sent an Arachnoid in.

It came back, NOTHING... We entered and found the room just as described by
Hamfast, without anyone in it (alive or dead).

We entered rooms 1 and 2 simultaneously, and found nothing.

The rooms empty, we signalled for the dwarf miners and they rushed up, we made
the corridor secure as they started to excavate the entrance and widen the
passageways.

We continued down the corridor and where not surprised to find the rooms empty
of everything. Half way done the corridor we found more spike traps, poison
traps, and mechanical and mage devices.

Unfortunaly we did not find them all and Team 2 was struck by poison darts as we
passed room 6. We made our way to where the entrance to the lower levels was and
found nothing.

The entrance was sealed solid rock appeared to be there and we could find no
where any signs of a door, elevator lift or other device to gain access to the
lower floors.

I will consult the others after we finish securing the level. They may have
ideas as to what exactly has happened. Firebrand

AFTERNOON DAY 12

(Some short period of time after the initial attack)

Ghent sat at an aged desk with a pair of glowing glass bulbs throwing light
across the room above it. He was hunched over a myriad of papers and writing
implements. The pages were all covered with the same intricate handwriting, and
the ones on top were smeared, the writing more haphazard.

For the time, however, Ghent had ceased to write. His eyes were closed, and he
sat over the desk, face contorted with concentration. I cannot... will not...the
will is for power. Fear is the mind-killer. Silent, he swayed back and forth
slightly over the papers spread all about. They are both dead. What am I to
become? What is-?

No. It is gone now. Dead. Let it die with her.

Wiping traces of what might have been tears away from between clenchedeyelids,
Ghent opened his eyes to the diagrams and writings below. Find it...here. Ghent
began to write again, and soon he was doing so at a quiet, quick pace, face
lined in stone and still as death except for the single hand, writing.

Thus he continued for some time, until he finished the page and then flipped it
to the next side, allowing himself a slight respite in writing so as to switch
writing hands. A Magick engine... is it possible? We shall see, as of yet.

Abruptly, Ghent stopped. Magick. Its interaction with technology was...chaotic.
Chaos. Perhaps. He sifted through pages carefully stacked and set aside on the
floor until he found what he needed. At the top of the pages read, "Chaof in
Mathematicf: Introfpection." This handwriting was different from that which
Ghent had done, and it appeared far older.

As Ghent placed pen to paper once again, the door slammed open. Ghent started,
and the tip of his pen snapped, sending a tinny echo through the cramped room
that stood out against the silence left in the wake of the entrance of a new
figure, shrouded in shadow. It was slight and also quite tall, and after
standing framed in the door for several seconds it tottered forward as if held
by strings, ricocheting off of the doorframe and into the light. It was then
that Ghent saw it and was able to recognize it: an Elf. What is an Elf doing
here? Ah--

At the corners of the hapless beings lips there were flecks of foam, and blood
ran down one side of its face, where a small puncture wound was highlighted by
an inflamed area of flesh that was beginning to rot on the still-living Elf.

Living? No. This Elf was already dead.

Ghent stood up, face grim, and took his staff from where it rested nearby.

With a brusque movement he twisted it just so and rammed it into the body of the
Elf.

The Elf convulsed wildly as current coursed through its body, its arms flailing
wildly and, as its central nervous system began to give out, falling inert at
its side as the Elf wilted into itself and then sprawled onto the ground, limbs
akimbo on the ancient, pitted stone of the floor.

Standing over the body, Ghent examined it in more detail. It was armored and,
judging from the number of unused weapons across its torso, it would doubtless
have proved a dangerous foe to whoever would oppose it. The helmet was also of
an interesting design; he had never seen an Elf wearing one before, and to
examine it more closely he removed it from the corpse's head.

In doing so, he let down a cascade of hair that was a deep, deep red and
shimmered in the artificial light, seeming brighter than its environs and
reminiscent of autumnal scents and cool, fresh air.
Auburn. Ghent stumbled back from the body and partially collapsed onto the desk,
causing papers to slide onto the floor.

The hair, she -- And, as he watched, the Elf twitched slightly. Excess neuro-
muscular--no. The poison.

The Elf stood up and turned its eyes to look at Ghent as if to appraise him,
running a gaze up and down his body and then confronting him directly, its eyes
boring directly into Ghent's. They glinted coldly, and in the shadows of now-
sunken eye sockets they were like gimlets. Unable to put up a front to this
creature, Ghent's own eyes answered by widening until he felt them water in the
dry underground air. I have killed her again. And again. How many times must
this happen?

His eyes filled with tears, and Ghent turned his back to all that was around him
and hunched over the stacks of drawings and blueprints. His shell-like body
began to shake silently as he wept.

The undead creature turned its back and walked out the door through which its
body had stumbled not long ago. Its hair fell behind it as it walked forward,
and it appeared to drink in the darkness as the Elf receded into the shadows and
went to do its new master's bidding.

(LATER. GHENT DOES NOT KNOW HOW MUCH LATER.)

"Get up. Weakness will not do here." Ghent awoke from where he had collapsed the
(night? hour? minute?) before, further scattering papers across the floor. He
frowned. This will cost at least a day to fix. And I hope I have not
forgotten... the Engine.

Graylor leaned over him and spoke again, this time with more force. "Get up now,
maggot. I promised you more knowledge, and you need to work here more! Simorp is
most displeased with how events progress, although I must say that the servant
you provided her has helped to alleviate this momentarily."

Graylor then turned sharply and left, running his gaze over the staff and other
technological accoutrements, many of them unique, that filled part of the room.

This human is valuable... and dangerous. Magick Engine... think of the power
that is possible with it. And think of the threat. And, think now that he no
longer learns from me...

Ghent, weary still and still filled with pain, watched Graylor as he left. I
need to leave. I am being used here and destroyed.

The same as I did, once. Hubris. What a wonderful word.

Ghent smiled grimly and then set his mouth into a thin line, a sword slash
across his face. He began to sort through piles of papers, taking other objects
of value and placing them carefully in protective travel cases.

How can I do this? he thought. For the first time in months, he allowed himself
an emotion other than sadness and pride.

Fear.

WITHIN THE TOMB GRAYLOR HAS SECOND THOUGHTS

Insolence.
Simorp was the most insolent being he had ever met.
He would see she paid. He could do it now, oh so easily... but no, that would
attract the tribunal down on his head for violation of the treaty on the mirror
worlds. Damn that, he wished he could be free of it. Simorp was only a tool; in
his endless placement in time, he could see the past, present, and future (to an
extent The future was vague). But he was near positive she would die, and he
would not. Of course he would not.

Ghent... perhaps he had been to harsh on him. It was the period when he needed
to feed again. That always made him slightly edgy. He should apologize. The only
true way to keep his force happy was to treat them fairly and with respect. And
be ruthless when they blundered. So easy to be kind to your men, and the results
of their actions would be drastically improved. Fools like Simorp did not see
the significance of happy followers.

The Magick Engine... such a thing would be dynamic. He could make things that
only existed in dreams, and in the greatness of civilizations worlds away. He
could stand forward as a god. He already had the power, but the blasted rules of
the Tribunal-- he did not fear the Tribunal, but if they sent Tanuvein after
him, that would cause trouble-- forbid use of his own magic. With this worlds
magick, more specifically, the Magick Engine, he could block the Tribunal's view
of him. And then he would be free to call forth
his unequaled powers. If that happened, he would surely make Ghent the happiest
thing alive. And Ghent would deserve it.

He turned around, heading back toward Ghent. Simorp had prisoners. He would feed
off of one of them. He hated this weakness, another thing the Magick Engine
could fix. Perhaps it would perfect his omniscientness. It did not matter, life
was eternal, and one day he would win or loose irrevocably. He just had to wait
until that time. But Tanuvein was here now, and he was a real threat. Neither
could use their powers, but that did not mean their innate abilities. Graylor
could rift into the Beyond, calling for the Darkness... but Tanuvein had the
blasted white fire. Perhaps it would end as it did before. They
would fight with swords. A physical battle as that would never kill either of
them normally. But Tanuvein had weapons of extreme power. And so did Graylor.
Their weapons were designed to kill each other. He would stand in his greatest
glory tonight.

And if he did not... he could flee. Wait until the order was in full strength,
and begin his manipulations again. He opened the door to Ghent's room, where he
was sitting. He handed the man a bag full of golden coins.

"Take a break, Ghent. I apologize for my rather callous behavior earlier. The
stress of pleasing Simorp is demeaning." It was demeaning, but there was no
stress. He cared not if she was truly pleased.

"Go into the underground city. Get a few drinks. Perhaps a whore, if that is
what pleases you. I will post guards here so no one messes with your work. No
one will see what you have accomplished in your absence."

Truth was a very fickle thing. When used properly, without the taint of lying,
you could fool anyone. Without them knowing. He already knew everything Ghent
had done. This whole place had slowly been converted to his purpose. It was
thick in magical runes and cantations, made my his power (though it was so
minute, it was undetectable) and he had slowly persuaded Simorp's men to put
their loyalty to Graylor above her. She did not realize the extent of his
control and manipulation over her. Already, she was doing things for him,
without realizing it. Unfortunantly, she was alive. His persuasion was not
complete. He walked off, his gray cape blowing open as the caves equalized the
pressure between each other. He looked into one of the silver rimmed mirrors.
His shoulder length black hair was straightened. He wore all gray woolens, with
hard boots that clicked on the ground as he walked. His flesh was solid white,
and hard. As if carved by ivory.

But that is not what left people stuttering in fear when they opposed him. That
was his eyes. Solid black eyes, that seemed to reach out and drain the light in
the room. And indeed they did.

He bowed to Ghent, moving aside so the man could leave.

Day 12

LATE INTO THE NIGHT

Things where getting complicated.

They had finished searching the entire caves and rooms and had found nothing.

Hamfast had been called to the chamber and had described to everyone again, what
had happened.

The entire party retraced the actions. It was then both Tanuvein and Oro noticed
the runes imbedded on the walls of the third room.

They both swore, the princess shuddered and Monti shook his head in disbelief.

'What is it " I asked
'This whole room is a trap' said the princess
'A trap that was sprung' concluded Tanuvein
'But a deadly trap' added Oro

I looked round the room quickly and having been shown the runes walked over to
them and examined them in detail.

I could notice mathematical equations and the formula for a hallucinogenic on
the wall. I was drawn to them and examined them more closely. Oxo came over and
while the Mages examined the runes we (along with Hamfast and Doromond) examined
the maths and other interesting scripts on the walls finally finished the
princess spoke.

'I cannot understand all that is written here, most is in a script far long
forgotten, the same as the scroll but what I can read worry me.'

I nodded and said ' The tech writing is new and I can understand the concepts
expressed here, but I to am worried. First it is obvious that the entrance has
been sealed for at least a month, second the upper floor here has not seen fresh
food in all that time as I can find no living insects.'

The princess nodded.
'Looking at the script it contains a transport spell, as well as an activation
spell and something else'

'The formula are for drugs, mostly mind altering, as well as this ' I said
carefully removing a battery I found embedded in the wall next to a trap.

'Obviously Young Hamfast was not here when he was tortured,'

'NOR was he interrupted Tanuvein quickly, 'That would not be the way...' and he
stopped suddenly

'So' I said quickly 'That leaves us with the question where IS Simorp and the
torturer.'

DAY 13

*** IN THE ROOM OF BONES **

Ghent and Graylor stood before the throne as Simorp look over them.

'Graylor why do I not have the scroll ' She said quietly, as quietly as death as
she held up her had to silence him.
'Ghent why have you not finished your creation and why do my enemy's have the
upper halls'

He was just about to answer when he too was silence with a wave of her hand as a
vice like grip grasped his throat and lifted him into the air.

They both hung there suspended and watch as 2 unberhulks lumbered into the room
followed by some Granite rats.

Slowly they were lowered back to the ground in-between the statute like
servants.

'I am disappointed in both of you.' She said quietly ' BUT MORE YOU GRAYLOR' she
shouted

'YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME!' Graylor began to panic. 'I TRUSTED YOU' she said

Graylors panic spread 'STILL YOU DO NOT HAVE THE SCROLL'

Graylors body flew across the room propelled by unseen forces.

'Graylor ' she said quietly again as he recovered himself 'Graylor, do you think
I am a fool, do you think I do not know why you are here.

DO YOU THINK I DO NOT KNOW YOU.
DO YOU BELIEVE I HAVE NOT SEEN WHAT YOU DO' at that point she turned her
attention

'AND YOU GHENT WHY DO MY EMENYS HAVE THE UPPER HALLS, WHY ARE YOUR SERVANTS SO
STUPID.'

She looked at them and seemed to relax.

'Yet you have both done well in other matters. Graylor your work with the
halfling was excellent, and Ghent the drugs where useful. He remembers nothing
of what he told us and we now know where the scroll is.'

'Graylor you will take at least 2 of Ghent's servants and some chosen form here
or the city then you will GO AND GET MY SCROLL'

With that they were dismissed.

When they had left the room Simorp motioned to the Orc guards and said, "Bring
me the girl"

DAY 13

WITHIN THE TOMB IS STILL THINKING ABOUT HIS CHOISES

As if that was a good torture. Simorp wished for physical results. She was so
limited in her eXpective.
Almost mortal. He had transcended upon such trivial things as tangible results.
He was indeed playing her well though.

She thought he feared her. He did not, could not. More importantly, an emtion he
had more trouble miming, was anger. She thought he was enraged at the fact she
betrayed him. She did not realize she could not betray him. Their never was a
true alliance. She hired the order, yes, but the mission was to insure that all
threats wer brought here. She did not specify as captives. They were here, and
that ended the treaty. And she was too narrow minded in her self-assurance to
realize it. She was arrogant.

Why she would be so foolish as to only send two men, he could not actually
fathom. He gave it again to her foolishness. She was indeed dangerous, albeit
not to him, and definantly not here. This place trully only had one purpose now.
To strengthen his power. Here, he couild force Tanuvein into submission.
Possibly. But, unlike Simorp, he had more patience than the walls around him. He
would not lend his freedom to the chance of possibilities.

Had he trully wanted her to have the scroll, she would. But he must make his
manipulations completely deft. Tanuvein, and his current companions (Graylor
found it slightly amusing that he was again playing as an elf. An elf! What was
his facination with that race?), were also in his web. They were being forced
into action that he wanted, without knowing it.

He gave the orders, watching Tanuvein and his party from his veil of
invisibility. He had to make Simorp at least think he was trying. He would make
it straight-foward. Enough so that it would please her simple mind, even after
his failure. Two demons, guns grafted on their left arms, suddenly appeared
amongst the part. They began to fire the elephant guns, and bring down their
massive elbow blades.

~Tanuvein

He could fill the residue of Graylor here. That creature had been here, at one
time at least. They were close now. He still held back secrets from them. And
they did not interpret the runes exactly right. This in itself was not a trap.
It was instructions on what traps they had accidently activated already. It, in
itself, was not a trap. But how to leave here safely. The old language was so
complex, one word could have ten meanings. All of which he could calculate
within the minutae of his constantly working mind. He suddenly felt a presence
and whirled around . . .

. . . to catch a bullet in the chest. He went down with a thud, fire from inside
coming where blood should be. He did not bleed. And the fire did not harm him.
It was evaporating hte lead in him, and closing the wound.

He was healing himself without being aware of it. The demon's soon ignored him,
moving on to the others. Their magick and inhuman nature repelled the bullets
with not problem, and all non-magickal and non-silver weapons simply slid off of
them. Fire magic seemed to heal them, while all other magicks seemed slightly
weaker on them.

They moved to kill Dr. Monti, the Princess, and Doromond first. The only ones
who had a chance to slow these beast down soon had a rainstorm of elephant-gun
bullets singing toward them.

DAY 13

THE FIGHT CONTINUES

As the bullets impacted against his Shielding spell and pelted him, Doromond
threw aside his empty, useless rifle. Bullets don't seem to do a damned thing
against these creatures, he thought...

Both of the demons resembled the creature that had attacked Doromond and
Tanuvein nearly a week ago. These particular variants of that beast, however,
were slightly smaller, just over 7 feet, and had fewer and less prominent cords
running along their body. Also, in favor of the clawed right hand, their hands
were fairly ordinary, except that they had wicked-looking serrated, scythe-like
claws portruding from the knuckles.

Apparently, they were also better armored and better protected against magick,
for Longshaft and Monti's spells didn't seem to have as much of an effect as
normal. And if their magick isn't doing much, the half-elf thought, then my
offensive spells aren't going to do anything at all.... And to make matters
worse, against those kinds of bullets, their protective magick wouldn't last
long, either. I'll have to buy them some time, he thought, as he drew his
broadsword and rushed toward the pair of demons, keeping his head low. As he
closed with the nearest demon, he jumped into the air and brought his sword into
an upward slash, cutting fairly deep into the creature's chest. So magick
weapons CAN hurt them, he thought. It's not much, but it's something to work
with.

Much as Doromond had hoped, both of the demons now turned their attention to
him, the closer one swiping at him with its claws, while the other one fired his
gun-arm, as the half-elf carefully dodged, making the occasional swipe or jab
with his sword. Meanwhile, Dr. Monti cast a Tempus Fugit spell which, while its
speed-enhancing aspect affected the group, its slowing aspect failed to have any
effect on the pair of demons. The Princess conjured a water elemental, while the
now-healed Tanuvein climbed to his feet, preparing another spell...

*
Graylor chuckled in amusement as he watched the battle unfold through his
scrying device. The half-elf must either be truly brave, or truly insane, to
charge his minions like that. "He may be half-elven, but his other half is most
certainly human," he mused. And no matter where he went, humans were almost
invariably the same... brash, loud, headstrong, quick to rush into the fray
without thinking things through, and determined not to surrender without a
fight.

Graylor let out another chuckle as, in a corner of the scrying device, he saw
Tanuvein stand up and begin to prepare a spell. "Of course. I would be quite
dissapointed if anyone other than I had the opportunity to kill you..." he said.
He returned to watching the battle very intently, hoping to learn as much as he
could about his adversaries, particularly Tanuvein.

This should be interesting, he thought, as he saw Doromond slash one of the
demons he sent.

MEANWHILE ON THE BATTLE FIELD

The smallest figure in the party vanished as the battle was joined. Noting that
few of his comrades attacks bore positive results, Hamfast knew a different
tactic was required.

"These things were big and well armoured against both magick and bullets, but
nothing is immune to everything. And every flesh yields to a blade. Indeed,
Doromond just sunk his deep into one of the attackers. Good."

Hamfast moved through the battle unnoticed by its participants. Feeling himself
accelerate he drew a long dagger from its sheath and stepped behind the
creatures.

"Now the trick is not getting hit by friendly fire. Hmm. Which one? Doromond's
target is the weakest after that attack, but this smaller one is nearer. 'Reduce
your foes, reduce their attacks' is what Uncle Oxo would counsel. And . . ."

Weaving back into the fray, Hamfast guided his first blade between the
creature's vertebrae, jerked the handle hard to his left and disappeared again.
Doromond jumped back to avoid the beast from crashing on top of him. The next
one let out a tremendous shriek as its right hamstring was severed. The noise
ceased when the Princess' water elemental drove its 'fist' into the thing's open
maw, drastically curtailing its breathing.

Hamfast rolled himself into the shadows and moved to the doorway wiping his
dagger on a torn tapestry en route.

"Need to make sure the hall's clear so we can secure position or retreat."

THE RETURN TO THE TOMB OF SIMORP

PART 2

THE PARTY

Master Hamfast Halfling, Tech inclined

TIM & JIM 2 slow (slightly thick) ORC bodyguards

Dr Renor Firebrand Dwarf Master Tech

Dr Johsirus Monti Half/Elf Master Mage
Mr Perinio Nostrimani Half orc of noble heart
MR Doromond Delari Half elf Neutral user of both Magic and TECH
MASTER : Tanuvein 'Dweller' ELF MAGE (, Earth, Water, Air and Force.)
Oxo Halfling Tech
Oro Hafling Mage

IN THE TOMB

SIMORP LICH Servant of the DARK ones

GRALYOR MAGE

GHENT Human TECH

Stanislo Repkin Gnome, master trader, liberator and assessor (currently hangning
on a wall )

Miss Jacinta RIST Of the house of Scratch Mage inclined (currently on the alter
in the room of bones)

********************************************

DAY 13

One thing I can say is that adventures are never dull nor are they certain to
bring outcomes accepteable to all members of the party.

I have just finished cleaning my blades when we were attacked... Those monsters
remind me of something I cant remeber what.. I'll have to remember to tell MARY
SHELLY when I get back to Tarant she just loves things like this..

WE did manage to dispartch them.. althought I have had to sharpen my smallest
blade again....

Luckely its only the replacement, Well that will show me its better to make my
own... I have retrieved by original blade from the strogbox and no onger feel
naked..

I will avenge my mistresses death... SHE WILL PAY...

PERINIO

Day 13

*********** IN THE ROOM OF BONES **********

Simorp was angry, not that this was unusual. If the truth were known she had
been angry since her fellow disciples and followers had abandoned her here in
the tomb some 300 years ago.

She had made the transition easily enough, she hadn't even needed the Dark Ones
assistance in the transition.

No all she had needed were the sacrifices and support from her fellow devotees.
Of course what none of them had predicted was that her body would be destroyed
in the process. Her mind was sane, she was still in possession of all her
powers.

BUT. And this was the important thing. Her body had been damaged beyond repair
and the sacrifice she was to have made was impossible.

Once the followers had seen the problem, of course there had been many
volunteers who came forward offering there bodies as the receptacle of the Dark
ones seed. But they had all been rejected. That's when things had begun to fall
apart for the cult.

First those Mages in their hidden city had discovered the first Dark ones
temple, then they heard of the cults plans.

THEN , THEN, (and this is what made her mad the most) SHE HAD BEEN BETRAYED.
They began to fear her, began to loath the sight of her rapidly aging body, they
began to doubt the Dark ones promises of power, life and domination.

Finally it had all come to a head. The other 4 mages the Human, 2 Elf and Gnome
had pooled there power and had bound here to the alter, bound her within the
books, bound here to the bones, to remain bound, unable to use her power until a
Mage had removed the binding power within the scroll. Then they had bound the
precious scroll in the outer room, protected by the deadliest poison, and mage
traps.

She had waited 300 years for release. She had waited, she could sense the
scroll, even they had not realised the full power of the scroll.

She laughed.

That thought had made her happy, If only they had been able to read the scrolls
inner power, they would have used it and lost everything to gain everything.

That was why she was a Lich, for only a Lich had nothing left to lose. Who else
would dare to bring forth those who waited beyond. Who else would cause all the
earth to pass through the portal, to rule forever.

Yet one thing prevented all this, she needed to be young again, to walk the
earth free to enjoy her power, her domination.

'GET GHENT' she said as they laid Jacinta on the alter.

She waited, examined the body, the power within, the beauty of the form.
'Yes this one will be acceptable' came a thought into her head as the Dark ones
continued to communicate with her.

Ghent entered the room looking proud and self satisfied.

'I have a new task for you'
'Yes ' he answered
'Repair this one' she said gesturing to Jacinta 'Then when you finish make her
pliable to my will, make here open to me, then return.'
'Mistress ?' he questioned 'I need...'
'Yes, yes ' she said. She stood perfectly still, concentrated and reached out
her hand to the small opening that she had produced in the room. The portal was
not large, but it was expensive to maintain as it crossed not only the world but
dimensions as well.

'Here this will help' she said as she dropped 4 schematic diagrams onto the
floor.

Ghent rushed over greedily grabbing the schematics..

Day 13

NIGHT

Dr Firebrand walked the caves and examined the walls again.

He knew there had been an entrance to the lower levels here somewhere; he could
even remember the location of the door they had had to open to gain access to
the area. But no matter how hard he tried to find it, he could find no evidence
of any access to the lower levels he knew to be there.

He made his way back to the party now camped at the tomb entrance and pass the
Dwarf and Elf guards that where patrolling the hallways.

When he reached the camp he noticed that Monti and Tanuvein were off to one
side, the Princess was talking to Doromond, Hamfast Oxo and Oro and Perino where
relaxing near the fire and the halflings were smoking a sweet smelling tobacco
he did not recognise.

Not wishing to disturb the party he retired to his tent, got the message bird
from his pack, unpacked the four Arachnoids making sure they were functioning,
wrote a quick message to Scratch and released the bird.

He was just about to lay down his head for the night, thinking on what the
parties next move would be when he heard the noises coming from outside his
tent.

He rose swiftly and went round to examine the area he could find nothing so
calling Monti over he explained what he had heard.

The rest of the party (except Doromond who seemed to be to relaxed to move)
ventured over to examine the area.

Moments later they found the source.

DR Stanislo Repkin, Gnome, master trader, traitor, who had betrayed them to
Simorp, who had been instrumental in the loss of Jacinta slowly crawled into
view.

He was emaciated, covered in weeping sores. In fact he looked dead and it was
hard to believe that anyone could survive in a body that looked like the one
that inched its way forward on its figure tips into camp.

He was horrified, Hamfast fell to his knees and wept, the princess cast a light
spell and Monti, examining the crawling figure cast a light heal on the figure.

****(Outside the camp Graylor laughed to himself, the diversion was working) ***

DAY 13

NIGHT

What was happening?

Just seconds ago, Doromond was idly conversing with the Princess, and now, as
the entire group had gone to examine something else, some sort of strange
sickness had come over the half-elf.

His vision was blurred, his hearing almost nonexistant, and he could barely draw
breath, let alone stand up straight. Someone was coming, though... someone else.
Doromond could feel his presence, even if he couldn't see or hear the new
arrival, though he had no idea who the person was. Doromond climbed to his feet
and turned in the direction he thought the stranger was coming from...
... and his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, as oblivion took hold
of his senses...

It took all his willpower not to laugh as he looked down at the unconscious
half-elf, the one they referred to as Doromond.

Ghent's drugs were more effective than I could have bargained for, Graylor
thought. Under the cover of his invisibility spell, he knelt down beside
Doromond's body, checking it for something. Good, he thought, he has what I came
here for. Graylor briefly considered charming him, but to do such a thing here
would put him, and his plan, at unnecessary risk. He already had what he had
come for, so there was no point in tempting fate, especially when he was so
close to being able to unleash his true power, without fear of the Tribunal, or
that damnable Tanuvein...
With that thought, Graylor picked up the unconscious half-elf, and proceeded to
teleport back to the tomb.

(A short while later, in the tomb...)

Graylor carefully examined the sword, the one he had executed this plan to
acquire. The initial prototype of the Magick Engine was nearly functional, but
there was still one problem that had not yet been solved... the Engine needed a
magickal artifact of considerable power to act as a catalyst. This sword should
do quite nicely, he thought. It radiated a powerful magickal aura, and yet, one
that very few mages could divine the true power of. Probably the only reason its
previous owner had retained it as long as he had. The sword was truly a powerful
artifact, and one whose power was all but lost on that stripling. Graylor
wondered if the half-elf had any idea of the power he used. No matter. He turned
toward the two orcs who were holding the still unconscious Doromond. "The
hybrid," Graylor practically spit out that word, "is no longer of consequence to
me. Place him in the prison for now. I shall decide his fate later."

DAY 14

EARLY MORNING

Doromond was missing and he had been since Stanislo had crawled into the camp
last night. Monti was sure that Stanislo would not live, but his emaciated body
still hung to life.

Some of the party had voiced there concern that we were wasting valuable time on
this traitor, but I needed to know, If, If he was a traitor or something far
worse.

Oxo and Oro and the Princess worried about Doromonds disappearance. Tanuvein had
found the footprints in the settled dust just outside the camp, and the trail
was easy to follow to where Doromond had been sitting.

BUT. BUT why take him.... surely MONTI or the Princess or Tanuvein would have
served them better, at last they know more about the scroll than poor Doromond.

Dam it I don't want to do this but I have now no choice.

I have instructed my brothers to mine the far wall in the main gallery (where I
remember the passage to the entrance to the lower levels.) I cannot afford to
lose any more good people.

LATER

I had a surprise, one of the Zeppelins from Caladoina has landed on the
outskirts of the camp and I see a familiar figure emerging, looking the worse
for ware.

'DAM DAM DAM ITS SCARTCH WHAT IS HE DOING HERE' I rushed over to greet him only
to be beaten by TIM who grabbed the helpless Scratch into a huge bear hug and
was just about to hug the life out of him when the Princess intervened.

What's more Scratch is not alone... I have never met his companion but they are
strange, almost, no... I will wait.. I'm sure my employer will tell us all soon.

*** MUCH LATER

DAM why now... we were all busy with Scratches arrival and Tanuvein has wondered
off. I haven't seen him in hours.. Will have to talk to him after Scratch
leaves.. THANK THE GODS HE WILL LEAVE.

I still do not understand why he came.. and his companion.. what can I say, I
know not who or what it/he/she was but they too have vanished.

Scratch sawer's he came alone... I am sure I saw someone else ... Almost
positive.....

At least we have some good news, one of the reason he cam all this way to
deliver a new device, he claims it can 'See beneath the ground' and 'Through
rock' I understand what he is saying, I have heard of these devices before, they
are based on Tech principals I am quite familiar with.

I am now sure that with these new instruments we will be able to find the
entrance to Simorps tomb.
I must remember to find Tanuvein when Scratch leaves.. (Which I hope will be
shortly).

The Zeppelin also brought fresh supplies from Hamfasts father as well as more
ammunition and other useful items...

I am glad he came, but angry as well... moistly angry with myself for having
lost his daughter... But he has no malic towards me, so I am satisfied (for the
time being). Firebrand

DAY 14

GHENT WORKS ON HIS MACHINE

Graylor watched as Ghent and his mechanical servants continued to assemble the
Magick Engine. He desperately wanted to chastise the human for working too
slowly, but he held his tongue. No good could come of rushing such delicate
work.

At the same time, however, he could tell that a final confrontation with
Tanuvein was inevitable, and that confrontation would be coming soon. Graylor
wanted to be ready, when that time came. Once he had dealt with that damn elf,
there would be nothing left to stop Graylor from taking control of the Order.

Doromond laboriously climbed to his feet, as he examined his surroundings. He
was in an empty, featureless stone room, with a solid iron door on one side. He
also noticed that most of his equipment was gone; all that was left was the
chainmail hauberk on his back, and the small dagger in his boot, which must not
have been found.

The half-elf did not need any Divination magick to figure out what happened.
Simorp has captured and imprisoned me here, he thought. But why? What did he
have that was valuable enough to risk transporting him here, rather than simply
killing him while he was vulnerable? And for that matter, why was he chosen?
Eliminating Tanuvein, Dr. Monti, or the Princess could certainly been more
costly to the group.

His thoughts were interrupted by the distinct feeling that he was not alone.
That feeling was confirmed a few seconds later.
"Glad you're awake, pretty-boy."

Doromond turned around to see a tall, wiry man looking at him somewhat
condescendingly. There were a few others in the room as well, none of whom he
recognized; a young, frail-looking woman, who looked like her confinement was
taking its toll on her health; an older-looking elven man who was extremely thin
and pale, even for his kind; and a somewhat lean half-orc, who apparently hadn't
been here as long as the others.

The man spoke up again. "So, what's the name of our newest roommate?" he
remarked, as off-handedly as some carnival announcer.
"I'd rather know who you are, before I give you my name." Doromond punctuated
his sentence with a brief, cynical glare.
"Fair enough, I suppose. My name's Curtis, the half-orc over there," the half-
orc nodded briefly, "is Kral. The lady," the woman stood up and offered a short
curtsy, before sitting back down, "is Meighan, and the elf over there..." The
elf nodded somewhat weakly. "We just call him 'Myth.'"
"I'm Doromond," the half-elf finally offered.
"Well, Doromond..." Curtis said, before making a sweeping gesture toward their
surroundings, "welcome to our homey little hellhole! I'd offer you some
libation, if we actually got any drink here other than the rainwater our
benevolent hosts offer us..."

TIme passed slowly as the prisoners chatted about various subjects, mainly
themselves, partially to pass the time and partially to keep their spirits up,
though Doromond was largely silent.

Day 14

The unseasonable rain started before sunset. It started slowly, then burst into
torrents of water that quickly tuned the camp into muddy mire.

The party was sheltering from the storm, the Zeppelin tied down when the
lightning struck, it cascaded across the sky and struck the entrance to the Tomb
with a force that would have woken the dead.

Monti and Firebrand were still looking for Tanuvein and had search the camp,
when they saw an elfin figure stagger near the Tomb entrance, rushing toward it
the found him (Tanuvein), unconcess near where the lightning had struck.

Gently carrying him back to the sodden camp they tried to accretion his injures
only to find he had none.
Surprised yet happy they consulted the Princess who said that he would recover.

The water pooled on the ground and eventually made its way into the tomb
following the path of least resistance, obliterating the tracks that would have
explained Tanuvein disappearance.

Some time later the water found the weakened wall that led to the under city,
slowly it trickeld through till the trickle became a torrent cascading through
the man size hole that now lay on the far end Wall.

DAY 14 / 15

NOTE:
There are journals missing between these dates. An attempt is underway to locate
these missing pages. They will be added if found, from recollection they contain
information on Tanuvein disappearance, and extracts from Doromond

Sometime between midnight and morning Simorp realised that the water would not
just go away, as she hoped it would.
Ghent was already complaining about its affect on the Machine she had ordered,
Graylor was upset about something as well, but she still didn't know what.
Well at least Jacinta had returned and in that area her plans seem to be
fruitful. The only thing was that she hated to wait and nine months was too
long.

Still she had viewed the embryo and ascertained that it was genetically viable,
so at least that was progressing smoothly.
She brooded about the water again and finally angry enough, she sent for
Graylor. When he arrived she let him have it with both barrels (so to speak).

Why did he not have the scroll, why was the machine not finished, why were those
accursed adventures Still on her doorstep. She went on an on till she exhausted
her anger. Graylor just stood there taking it all in, the anger, the fear, the
loathing, till even he was satisfied that Simorps usefulness would be coming to
an end in the not too distant future. But he still needed her for a short time,
and she did have some valid points, Like the Adventures.
She would down, recovered and issued the order that Graylor had expected. "Fetch
me the last of the traitors'
Graylor knew she meant the Mages imprisoned in the dungeons, and knew what she
would do with the last. AS yet he still did not understand just how she did what
she did, but he was almost there, and when he was, her usefulness would end.

DAY 14/15

DOROMOND'S JOURNAL, (TRANSLATED FROM ELVISH)

'I do not know exactly how much time passed in that prison cell, or even how
long I had been unconscious before I woke up in there.

'All I know for sure is that all of the prisoners I had been sharing the cell
with had been chatting away, trying to keep despair from sinking in. There was
more than idle chatter to be heard though; Curtis was able to offer me valuable
information on Simorp's plans.
'It seems that Simorp's minions have been attempting to construct something
called a "Magick Engine." I don't entirely understand the principles behind it,
but apparently, it can greatly magnify the power of a mage who knows how to tap
into its aura, without compromising the use of technology within its sphere of
influence as well. Curtis knew about all this because he had initially been one
of the engineers working on it, until he found out just who he was building it
for and what she intended to use it for. After that, he had attempted to destroy
the Engine, but was captured and thrown in the prison, to essentially be saved
as a source of blood for later.

'A while later, during other conversation, Myth, who had been decidedly anti-
social for quite some time, not to mention glaring at me like he would at some
insect, had, almost without provocation, made a rude remark about Kral. The
half-orc, quite reasonably angry, stormed over toward Myth, obviously prepared
to hurt him. Against my better judgement, not to mention my wish to see that
pompous elf get what he deserved, I rushed to interpose myself between them,
hoping to at least prevent the two from coming to blows. Kral, however, simply
grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
'I must have blacked out from the impact, because the next thing I remember, I
was lying slumped against a wall in some dark passage somehow connected to the
cell, and Meighan was kneeling over me, checking my pulse. Curtis and Kral were
looking down the same passage, and Myth was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen.
Apparently, Kral had thrown me into some hidden passageway within the cell,
though where it led to, or why whoever had put it in there had done so, remained
a mystery. None of us particularly cared about that, though. All five of us
agreed that we stood a far better chance going through the passageway, which
possibly led out of the tomb, than we did remaining in the cell (although Myth
refused to say that much).'

(Entry from a few hours later)

'After what felt like an eternity of climbing the steep slope of the passageway,
we finally stepped into the cold, yet comforting glow of moonlight, even in the
midst of the downpour. The passage had led us out to a small clearing in the
woods, near a streambed. Myth had quite bluntly stated that now that he was
free, he would go his own way and leave the rest of us to our own path, and then
teleported away, to some far-off location that none of us knew, or particularly
cared to know. In all honesty, I am quite grateful that the arrogant bastard has
chosen to leave us, though I refuse to lower myself to his level by saying that
much to his face. I'm drifting off the subject, though...
'Scouting a short distance downstream, I could faintly make out what looked like
a campfire (apparently a magickal one, as no conventional fire could have burned
in spite of the rain), as well as several structures that looked like part of
the camp, several dozen meters further downstream. Out of any other real
options, the others agreed to come with me there, at least until they could
decide what else to do. Perhaps all four of us can equip ourselves from the
strongboxes filled with supplies and equipment taken from that mercenary raid
several days ago. I still have my spellbook stored in the tent as well, for what
that is worth to me right now.

I still have no idea what Simorp wanted from me, or what she may have wanted
from my possessions. I will, however, retrieve my father's sword from that tomb,
even if I have to tear it from her lifeless grasp.'

AFTERNOON

Dr. Monti was startled by the sudden appearance of Hamfast and Oro in the
entrance of his tent.

"We've found a way in! A way that cannot lead to the parts we've previously
explored." Blurted Hamfast.

Laying a hand on Hamfast's shoulder, Oro continued, "What the lad means is that
a low spot has been discovered not far from the Tomb's known entrance and
copious amounts of runoff from this rain is sinking into it. Quantities that can
only indicate substantial caverns or tunnels below ground. I've investigated the
site and Oxo inspected our perimeter and talked with the guards. The runoff is
not going into any known area, but is getting into some network underground."
The elder halfling paused to give Monti time to factor this new information.
"There is one complication. Due to the small size of the entrance and the large
volume of runoff, it neither safe nor navigable for any of the larger races.
Halflings, gnomes, and some of the smaller dwarves can make it through. Until
the rain ceases and the ground has dried it cannot support anyone larger."
"I can scout it." Offered Hamfast.
Oro loudly cleared his throat, "You -can- scout it, but you will not. Not by
yourself, anyway. This is not the same as scouting an area that has been
previously mapped. You know what Oxo would say about this and you know your
father would agree with him." Returning his attention to Monti, "I propose a
small scouting party be dispatched immediately. Oxo, the boy and myself. A small
dwarven detachment will remain at the new entrance. When we have found a
suitable forward position, we will return, guide the dwarves in and set up camp.
I would not recommend the dwarves coming with us, despite the added protection
they would afford. It would be better for us to procede undetected. We will go
and prepare and await your decision, Dr. Monti." Bowing the two halflings left
the tent and Dr. Monti's broodings.

IN THE WORKSHOP WITHIN THE TOMB

Tears sprung to Ghent's eyes, but at almost the same time as they softened new
hardness came into them and his face solidified into a glazed mask, the hours of
endless work having created a ferverous desire within his mind to finish this
puzzle once and for all.
Working with that corpse had been a waste of time. This, this was all that
mattered. The Magick Engine and the fulfillment of dreams...
Trouble clouded Ghent's glazed eyes. What did she want with it? He could not
remember. Something that had been so great, so... brilliant, that she had
inspired him onto these paths.
Then, slowly, this thought also drained from Ghent's mind until it was left an
empty slate. The engine. He returned to work. It had to be tested. It had to be
given form and life.

Graylor smiled. The man's sanity was cracking. He was of fine will, but it was
nought compared to the power brought to bare against it. Now the only threat he
offered was that of random, unpredictable actions. It was truly of no account.
He would be removed, permanently, and soon.

Day 14/15

Dr Monti sent for Oro and Hamfast after only moments of thinking.
They arrived.
'I agree' he said the moment they entered the tent.
'However there is one problem.'
'That is ' inquired Oro
'Firebrand will not agree to this. I know him. It is too dangerous and while it
continues to rain the danger is increased.
However if ..... if...... he was.. shall we say.... not told... then..... well
... you could.... ' He left the rest unsaid.
Hamfast started to say something; Oro looked at Monti then at Hamfast, and then
tried to peer into the rear of the Tent where he saw a small figure laying on
the only bed in the room.
'We will discuss this' said Oro as they left
Monti moved back to the bed and once again bent over the still almost lifeless
form of Stanislo that lay on the bed.
Casting another healing spell he saw signs of intelligence returning to the
haggard face of his care.

*
Meanwhile in the room of bones the news of the explosion above had finally
filter through to Simorp.
She was angry (since when is this new), however this time here anger was tinged
with delight, the planed escape of Doromond had gone well and Myth had played
the part with style.
Myth now stood before the throne, head bowed as he waited for his reward.
Simorp was angry, but that did not sway her from her chance to reward the
faithful.
She Raised her arms, chanted something and Myth was once again whole, and by his
side lay a bright staff, covered in runes that glowed in the darkness of the
cave.
'Myth, faithful Myth, your reward lays beside you. One word of caution use it
with care and never in front of a Master from that Accursed college in .....'
she could not bring herself to name the Mage town.
'Yes mistress' he said as once again he was transported by her power to his
desired location.
'So' thought Simorp, they will find the entrance soon...
She sent for Gralyor and Ghent eager for their progress reports.

DAY 15

REALLY, REALLY EARLY MORNING

Doromond stayed low as he moved through like a predatory cat through the tall
grasses and weeds, the only sound being the low rattle of his chainmail swaying,
and the near-inaudible sound of his soft-soled boots impacting against the dirt.
Every minute or so, he would stand up and signal the others that it was safe to
advance. It might not be entirely necessary, he thought, but if Simorp wanted me
around for some purpose, I doubt she's going to just let us go once she finds
out we're gone. And the fact that all of us are mostly unarmed doesn't help
much. That wasn't entirely true though... Doromond still had his somewhat
limited arsenal of magick, Meighan was, in her words, a mage of considerable
power and training, and Kral, armed or not, still had his natural strength to
use as a weapon. But for the group to engage in any sort of violent
confrontation right now would be stretching their luck.
Luckily for them, the journey to the camp was a fairly short one, with the camp
only being about a hundred meters from where the stream bed emptied. Having
arrived in the dead of night, of course, raised considerable alarm among the
camp at first, and even when Doromond's identity and his possession of his own
will were ascertained, his new companions had been recieved with more than a
little suspicion, especially from Dr. Monti. And not without good reason,
Doromond thought. After all, for all any of us know, their role could be to
insinuate themselves into the group, in an effort to succeed where Stanislo
failed...
*

NOTE: SOME INFORMATION FOR OUR READERS

Curtis Bradshaw (Human Tech)
Initially, Curtis had been decieved into aiding Ghent in the construction of the
Magick Engine, until he found out what Simorp really intended to use it for. At
that point, he attempted to destroy the Engine, but was captured and thrown in
the prison. While he is not quite a master Technologist, Curtis is nonetheless
very well trained in the Electrical and Mechanical disciplines, and has had some
training in the Chemistry discipline as well. He is generally friendly toward
most people, and is posessed of a good-natured, wry sense of humor.
Traits: Short black hair, brown eyes, 5'10" height, 170 lbs.

Meighan Brightfield (Human Mage)
Much like a number of other mages, Meighan had been approached by Simorp's
agents with the offer of "forbidden" magicks in exchange for her assistance.
Meighan, however, had refused that offer, and was imprisoned for it, to
eventually be used as a sacrifice. She is well versed in the Magickal Colleges
of Conveyance, Divination, and Force, as well as having some training in the
Mental, Meta, and White Necromantic schools. Meighan is usually polite,
eloquent, and soft-spoken.
Traits: Shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes, 5'6" height, 155 lbs.

Kral Shieldbreaker (Half-Orc Warrior)
Unlike the others, Kral was not captured for any particular offense against
Simorp, but simply for convenience. Born into the Shieldbreaker clan, Kral had
more recently been employed as a caravan guard. Unfortunately for him, the
aforementioned caravan had been ambushed by Simorp's forces on the way to
Caladon. Some of the caravan members, including Kral, had been taken to be used
as "food" for Simorp's more predatory minions. Though he lacks any training in
magick or technological disciplines, Kral is quite skilled in the practical
application of firearms, as well as in melee combat. While Kral is not as
resentful of humans or elves as most of his orcish or half-orc bretheren, he
still tends to be somewhat gruff when dealing with others.
Traits: Short, bright red hair, blue eyes, 6'1" height, 240 lbs.

WITHIN THE TOMB GRAYLOR HAS CHOSEN WHOM TO SERVE

He calmly let his two scrying windows close away, sitting back, contemplating
things. He patted the scroll at his hip, considering giving it to her. It was
not the actual scroll, he still did not need that yet, or he would have it. But
if she used this scroll, she would loose her free will, and become a slave to
him. No... he wished to sow some more seeds before he went to harvest his work.
He made way for Ghent, finding the man before hte messenger was half-way through
the labrynthian caves. Graylor used his most charming smile, and with that, just
a touch of magic that would make Ghent ache to please him.

"Ghent, it is good to see that you are well. I must indeed speak with you on a
matter of great importance."

The vampiric elf let his gaze sweep across the room, and as he nodded in
satisfaction, he closed the door, adding wards against scrying.

"Ghent, I fear to tell you this, but Simorp has fallen from her sanity. She has
lost all bearings on reality. She expects too much of us, and thus has betrayed
us. She contemplates our executions. We must insure that she does not gain to
much power. If you would, beging to send all developments of the magic engine
directly to me, through those that are loyal to only me. How about it, my dear
friend?"

~
Later on ((Ghent can still reply to me, but I don't want to wait to make another
post, so this is after they finish.))
His eyes, orbs of solid black that drained the very light, followed Meighan's
every movement. All was coming to fruition, now. He had manipulated Simorp into
approaching Meighan and in effect, imprisoning her. Now, he would begin to tast
some of the harvest.

Waiting until the others were asleep, and only Meighan was on watch, he
approached her. Before she could shout out, he released a good portion of the
persuasive magic that was alway witheld in him. She halted, staring at him.
Adorations spread across her face, as her will began to falter, and she desired,
burned, only to please him. He was all that mattered, to her. He was an
absolute, a godsend and her savior. He smiled at her, and her heart pounded in
pleasure.
"My dearest Meighan, it indeed pleases me that you are well. It indeed does.
Please, my dear, allow me into your heart, give me your soul."

Meighan stares at his disarming smile, before nodding enthusiastically. Slowly,
Graylor pulled loose a dagger, and sloly cut open his chest, over where his
heart should be. He reaches in to the wound, pulling out a black, pulsating orb.
The very order of it's magic is astounding, and it seems to whisper promises to
her, promises to give her what she wants most. Right now, that is to please
Graylor.

She embraces the segment of the Dark, allowing her into her soul.
It courses through her veins, and she feels her power mutliply tenfold,
bolstering her senses, her very mortality into a greater level. Images of
thousands of minds, of tousands of thoughts, bombard her intelligence, and she
knows things that no regular person has known in years. She can now fully
understand Graylor's desings. And, in being part of the Dark, she sees his
desings as the ultimate plan to unloose the Dark upon the whole world. There is
now a link between them, and all that join the Collective Mind-thought of the
Beyond.

<Meighan, I want you to watch these people for me,> he said directly to her
mind.
<Report to me everything of interest. And take this scroll, keeping it with you
until I speak otherwise. Let no one know of this night.>
She takes the scroll, and Graylor is gone like the night. There is no possible
ways for the other's to know that Meighan has become one of Graylor's minions.

EVENING 14TH/MORNING 15TH

Four stout dwarven warriors and the Princess' halfling guards stood in the chill
night air. Their attention trained on Oxo as he gave them their orders.
"Oro, Hamfast, and I will be following the stream into the tomb or caverns or
whatever it is all this water is pouring into.

You have been chosen to stand guard until our return or the advent of our foes
finding and using this route. The three of us will be scouting the passageway.
When we have found a suitable area we will return. The intent is to secure a
forward base via what we believe to be a 'backdoor' into the lair."
"I want the halflings to form a semi-circle perimiter. Dwarves, stay just behind
them. We will use tonight's challenge, even if we return tomorrow morning. If we
have not returned by this time tomorrow, seal this passage and mine it."
The three halflings then hoisted their equipment and descended into the muddy
sluice with Hamfast leading by ten paces.

Late during the second watch a whisper reached Fin Addleboro. He stood, drawing
his companions' attention. Weapons glinted with firelight as they were drawn.
"What carries the mournful echo?" Fin stated flatly.
"The winds of the Vendigrith Wastes." said the whispery reply.
Fin willed a light. "Stand forth and show no steel."
A mud soaked figure, slightly smaller than himself stepped out of the mud
trench. Two slightly larger figures emerged a moment later. The mud like masks
on the figures faces obscured their identities.
A handkerchief, thrown by one of the dwarves, landed at the first figure's feet.
It slowly reached down, took the cloth and wiped away mud to reveal Hamfast's
beaming face. Motioning to the guards to lower their voices he handed the
handkerchief back to Oro.
"An echo carries down the main tunnel. We're not sure how far. We need to equip
properly to protect any items we were planning on taking."
Oxo, his face now recognizable, pointed to two dwarves and two halflings. "Come
with us. We need to consult with Dr. Monti and wrap equpment in oilcloth. The
mud and water pose a threat to explosives and firearms."

As the little party approached the camp Hamfast signalled to stop and seek
cover. His uncles moved up next to him, while the two halfling guards began to
silently circle to the left.
At the edge of camp they saw a human woman and a thin man or elf apparently
talking quietly. She takes a small object from him then he vanishes. The woman
moves back to the watch position of the camp.
With a gesture the halfling guards return to Oxo's side. "Who is she?"
"We have no idea, sir. We've been at post and have heard no word from the base
camp."
"Any sound of battle or other trouble?"
"No. If there is anyone new in the camp, as apparently there is, they came
peacefully. Oh, we noticed a low light burning in Doromond's tent. He may have
returned with allies."
"Very good. Rejoin the dwarves." After the guards had moved back into the
undergrowth Oxo turned to his brother and nephew. "We have a poser before us."

***
Fin was startled to see the party returning so quickly. Hamfast moved up to him.
"Something dodgy at the camp. Doromond seems to be back and there was an unknown
woman standing watch. Also a creepy elf gave her something then disappeared.
Uncle Oxo wants you to pick out your best listener and two of the dwarves to
stay up here."
"What about the rest of us?" queried Fin.
"We'll be going back in to set up the forward base. Here. Help me get these
ammunition satchels wrapped in oilcloth."
A half hour later Brom Orevein, Nolo Gristone, and Ranne Brownsole watched their
brothers-in-arms enter the mud sluice. The night watches drew to an end. A
cheering and hopeful sunrise filled the bivouac. Following a breakfast of cold
bacon and day old biscuits Brom set out for the base camp.

DAY 15,

EXACT TIME IS IMPOSSIBLE TO TELL

All was not well.

Simorp was growing tired of waiting for Graylor and Ghent to arrive.

If they did not come soon she would be VERY VERY angry.

Graylor had been sent to fetch Ghent over an hour ago and unless they came up
with reasonable explanations things were going to get messy.

Simorp motioned to one of the Swamp things that stood guard over the access to
the lower levels (which were partly flooded at this stage)

It came forward slowly.
'Fetch the last mage in the dungeon, hurry. I will have need of him VERY soon.'
The thing shambled off followed by two Orcs.
Five minutes later Ghent and Graylor still had not arrived and Simorp was....
well..... <TEXT REMOVED>...
The thing returned with the last mage.
The Elf was old, bond and silenced, his cloths torn and definitely worse for
wear, having not been fed for about 3 weeks.

She leaned forward, beckoning him closer., Marchen Finis Longshaft slowly came
forward, his gate difficult with the broken leg.

She drew his lips to her face and kissed them, drawing blood with a small bite
at the last moment.
'You always were sweet Marchen' she said, as she tasted the blood.
'You too will serve me still, I will take from you all that you value. Perhaps
if you serve me willingly once again I will let your brethren survive.
Come my sweet, you know I can have you. After all if not for your devotion I
would not be here.
Come Marchen, serve me again, be my blood bond and I will save you.'

Marchen looked into here eyes and knew the lie within them. He wondered if he
would survive a lie of fidelity to her, but she wanted blood bond, and that he
was never going to give.
She looked towards him waiting. Waiting for his answer, waiting for Graylor and
waiting for Ghent.
She would not wait much longer, if Marchen refused her, she would have the power
to open the gate, even if he accepted, she would have the power, she still had
the machine, she could feel the energy within it, almost taste it. With our
without Marchen the time was almost here to deal with the intruders above.

IN THE TOMB ENTERANCE

It was probably dawn on the surface. Brom should be back at the base camp soon.

The dwarves were amazed at the craftsmanship they were finding. The tomb had
been built into a natural network of caverns. Caverns which delved deep into the
earth. There may be leagues of tunnels to explore, they figured.
What impressed them most, though was the way the unmortared stonework had been
laid. By their estimation the outer walls of this section of tomb were four feet
thick. Basalt slabs laid with meticulous precision.
"Mr. Oxo, Sir. Begging your pardon, but we've a theory on the ways of this
construction. We judge these caverns to be rather vast, especially for a natural
formation. We also judge these walls to be of a fortress-like nature. It is our
studied opinion that there's something down here the builders hoped to keep
out."
Oxo nodded, "Keen observations. Get back to the surface as quickly as possible.
Contact the captain of Arland's Dream, the zeppelin. Secure from him four kegs
of demolition powder and a fuse network. Tell him I need them. If he asks you
are free to explain our situation. Also request a copy of the aeriel
reconnaisance map made when they first arrived."
The dwarves nodded and quickly headed back up the knee deep trough of mud.

*

Hamfast unslung his pack and laid his equipment out on one of the stony patches
of ground. Since the rains had stopped the mud flow was slowing. The ground
around the walls should be safe.
Removing his hushed pistol and his ammunition belt from the pack, Hamfast
inspected them to ensure no mud had fouled the mechanisms or powder.
Oro and another halfling came up. "Ready?" asked his uncle.
"Yes. I assume we're going to try and find what the dwarves think was walled
out?"
"Of course, Hamfast. The three of us will scout as deep as we can and return
here in four hours. I've brought this to help." Oro produced a small glass orb
from a vest pocket. "Its a copy of Glascomb's light. Unlike your technological
light sources, this is designed to produce a mobile light source up to thirty
feet away from the user. This way we can stay in the shadows and still see
what's ahead."
As his brother and nephew set off into the caverns, Oxo worked with Fin and the
remaining halflings. Within an hour they had established watch points and Oxo
had found the spot he was looking for.
"No offense, sir, but why the large grin?" Fin asked. "You seem rather pleased
with something."
"I am. And when the dwarves return with their parcels I'll share a trade secret.
Until then, we're halflings, let's break out that brandy flask and our pipes."

Day 15

*********** IN THE ROOM OF BONES ***********

Simorp raised her hands and shouted at the top of her voice in a tongue unspoken
for millennium.

TIME STOOD STILL.

Throughout the plains time ceased to exist for a distance of 60 miles in a
circle around the tomb TIME STOOD STILL.

Simorp stood poised in the center of the bone room, Mage Marchen Finis Longshaft
slowly crumpling at her feet as she drained the last drop of his essence from
him.
He died a horrible death, to gruesome to record as Simorp took her final revenge
on her one time lover.

TIME STOOD STILL,

The Halfling were deep within the secret entrance looking for the way in.
The party at the camp were arguing about what to do next, as Scratch was about
to leave on the Zeppelin.

TIME STOOD STILL
Graylor just noticed a small anomaly, Ghent noticed nothing, and Tanuvein also
noticed the anomaly, and the Princess noticed nothing, being deep in pain.

TIME STOOD STILL
The gate opened and Simorp look through into the realm of the Dark one and
called forth a minion.
It stood 3 stories tall out in the plains, its wings still glistening in the
sun, as they dried from the constant rain from where it had come from.
It looked around and focused on a point in space / time some 20 miles from its
current location and waited.
Simorp breathed again, the gate collapsed and time returned.

*
Perinio was the first to notice that something had happened, he noticed the
difference in the suns position.
Firebrand was the next to notice, his watch was stopped, no movement was to be
see and opening the back he saw that the momentum of the sprung pendulum was
frozen.
They began to worry.

*
The creature waited for its time to arrive, it knew to the second when it would
attack, who to take first, who to eat, who was the strongest, the weakest, the
most vulnerable.
It knew all that Doromond had known, It could see through his eyes, it could
heard his mind, it also heard Stanislo, brief but fleeting on the verge of death
on the verge of life.
It could see through his eyes also. It sought its prey; it looked for the enemy
so that it could return to peace.
It stretched its wings and waited. The time almost here.

ON THE SURFACE THEIRS TROUBLE IN THE AIR

The captain of Arland's Dream was worried. It was evident a massive time
alteration had occurred. The magick had caused disruptions throughout the
technological systems of his ship. The zeppelin's engines were off-line as were
the principal weapons. He worried. He was supposed to be airborne by now
providing reconnaissance for Scratch's expedition, communications with
Caladonian Forces, and keeping his own crew safe from assault.

"Captain?" called Basil Tram, Arland's Dream's First Officer.
"Yes, Mr. Tram." came the weary reply.
"Two dwarves from Capt. Proudfoot's party. They have a requisition for us to
fill."
"And?"
"Well, Sir, its for four demolition kegs. Seeing as they are considered 'secret
munitions' they require a CO..'s written approval for transfer and use. Here's
the form, Sir."

"You know your commander well, Tram. When the kegs are transferred, find out
what Capt. Proudfoot is up to. Then get those lift engines operating. I don't
want us to be dangling from this gasbag with no directional control."

"One more thing, Sir, from Captain Proudfoot. He would like copies of our aeriel
recon maps. They're prepared and rolled in waterproof map tubes. Shall I
accommodate?"
"Yes. Then get us airborne."
Minutes later what looked like two dwarf-sized mud golems and a pony quickly
left the zeppelin.

***

Hamfast signalled a halt.
They were a half hour from the turn around time. Slipping back to his Uncle Or
his low voice spoke, "We've found what we're looking for. At least, we've got
evidence of something living down here."
The little threesome ventured up to a point just beyond Ham fast's point. Strewn
about the floors of the cavern were a myriad of bones. Ancient remains of
corpses, long devoured and returned to the outside world.

"Mostly and ancient offshoot of elves, I suspect. There is still a magical
resonance in the bones." Or continued to study the remains nearest him.
"Uncorrupted pieces of weapons and armour. Uhum. Cor, look! Yes. We are dealing
with a very longlived, enormous, and vicious creature. In our stories it is the
Brandlebrant. To the gnomes it is simply Golddrinker. Old orcish translates
rouglhly to 'rumbling fear'."

In the dimness of the place the plaing faces of the trio could barely be seen.
Oro continued, "A stout ally, perhaps. They have limited sentience and long
memory. If this one is still alive it will prefer our foes to us as a meal. But
first it must know it can get at its ancient prey."

The guard shivered.
"How do I lure it back, Uncle?"
Oro answered while pulling two scrolls out of his pack, "Stay here. Listen. I
will return. But first I must consult with Oxo. I'll be back shortly, and then
we'll wait."
With that Oro and the halfling guard disappeared in a roar of magick. Fear and
loneliness crawling over him, Hamfast settled in to wait in the darkness. His
hand drew the hushed pistol from its holster. He waited.

***

Miles away a large nose connected to a small brain registers scents that are
familiar, but long faded. "Little crunchy tasty things but different are in my
home territory i want to find them and eat them i wonder if they came from
behind the smooth rock that keeps me from very tasty not as crunchy things i
smell all the time i am tired of crunchy ratty things i eat for long time and i
want to eat those things that are tasty and walk on back legs only and poke me
with sticks that makes me mad i will teach those tasty things not to poke me i
am just hungry and need them to fill my hunger i will go find them where the
smell comes from." The Brandlebrant's legs propelled it quickly through the
caverns depths. Navigating a long ago memorized labyrinth once teeming with
granite rats, stone trolls, cavern ogres, and nastier creatures.

DAY 15

LATE AFTERNOON

************ THE ROOM OF BONES *************

Simorp sat on here thrown still recovering from the summoning she had formed
earlier, if not for the great machine that was within the complex she would have
had to wait for another sacrifice or, as before Millennium trapped, waiting
while here strength rebuilt.

During her time of imprisonment she had managed to explore all most all of the
caverns below till she had heard THAT great creature, she had imprisoned in its
tiny corner of her world, THAT thing below, she could not hear its mind nor
control it as it seemed almost immune to her whiles and besides their where
other move easily swayed creatures here for here to work with, so she had left
it to its devices hoping that it would die, then perhaps she could bring it back
and control the dead things mind, like she did with some of the workers below.

She sat still, her mind roamed and she touched the Dragon, saw thought its eyes
and senses its impatience.
'Soon my beauty' she said into its mind trying to sooth it
'Soon, only minutes and I will be ready to unleash you but I must be ready or
all will be in vain'
'Mistress' it echoed back
'You remember your tasks ?'
'Yes' it replied lazily as it gazed over the point in space / time it was to
occupy.

She relaxed, kicked the husk of the mage from her thrown and began to muse on
how best to punish Graylor and Ghent for there lack of appearance, realised that
Ghent's usefulness was over and that Graylor had only hours left to find and
return the scroll before he to would bow to her power.

Still that accursed party on the surface and her bondage in this room was a
problem, soon to be rectified by the coming carnage above.

She cursed the day that stupid Mage above had read the scroll binding here
within the confineds of her rooms, trapping her here, vulnerable to attack. If
only he were dead along with that stupid Tech dwarf, or she had the scroll in
her hands, then they would see what terror meant, then they would experience
pain. "YES THEY WILL EXPERIENCE PAIN" she thought to herself gloating over her
plan.

*
SINOPSIS OF EVENTS AS IS

Unaware of Simorps limitations our intrepid party on the surface has finally all
agreed that something has happened.

Firebrand has emerged for his tent with Scratch, who is about to leave, now with
the knowledge that his daughter may be alive.
Firebrand has also discovered that the Halflings are missing and is waiting till
Scratch leaves before pursuing the matter.

Perinio and Monti have exchanged words over his advice to the Halflings, who are
missing from the camp and some tension is now between them.

Tim and Jim have returned with BAD news from a scouting expedition, Doromond and
Tanuvein along with the Princess have fed and are due for next watch.

Clan Firebrand dwarfs have finished the encampments fortification and have
examined the tomb entrance again to find a smallish crawl hole in the wall where
the explosives were set, leading to the old entrance to the lower levels.

A robed figure in brown and grey has emerged for the Zeppelin and has
immediately been recognised by Monti as, BROTHER NIKKO, who has been sent by the
order to assist and provide spiritual counsel for the party.

The goods have been unloaded from the Zeppelin and it is almost ready to fly,
however there seems to be some trouble in the engine room (rumours of sabotage
and damaged machinery are filtering into the camp.)

***

Tanuvein calmly opened his pack, making sure that the other two on watch, who
were at opposite ends of the camp, did not see him as he pulled the orb loose.
He stared into it's murky depths, becoming one with it, one with the past and
its memories. He saw through the eyes of another, at a time long ago. A time
that would, perhaps, give him insight into why Simorp and Graylor were on this
fiasco. And suddenly, he could see into the eyes of another, in a time long,
long past. To the beginning of the world as they knew it.

The unrelenting tides of darkness poured from the east, slaughtering men, elves
and dwarves in troves. Nothing haltered them, nothing daunted them, nothing
could reason with them. They were the perfect semblance of the Order, the
perfect disciples of the Dark. And on they came, like a landslide, both slow and
unstoppable.

Each brave warrior that fell joined their wretched ranks.

The smell of death and decay reached out from the horde, grasping at the lungs
of the leaving, instilling a sense of hopelessness and despair. For centuries
they the undead had been thought extinct, a mere tale to frighten unruly
children with. That tale had become horrifically true, damning all of those on
the surface of Keryn Tier to utter doom.

The Unified Empire had been dissolved on little over a month, and all that
remained of the clergy was the Third Sect, the Guardians of the Fall. The church
had long ago decreed the Third Sect heretical, and practitioners of blasphemy in
their beliefs. They prepared day and night, throughout the year, for when the
Dark would try to gain a hold on Keryn Tier, the True World. The rest of the
church deemed such preparations a waste, and a sign of unfaithfulness in the
guardian protectors that they worshipped.
Now the Third Sect was the only remnants of an otherwise desecrated religion.
The Empire, and indeed the world that grew under the Light of Chaos, was in
their hands. But even with courage, anger, morality and faith on their side,
they were loosing. The armies of Darkness came on, driving them forever back,
closer to the Great Sea.

The scorched earth was red in a crimson river of blood, and the sky was forever
darkened as the magic was drained from it. Life, it seemed, was about to join
the whisper in time that told of the fall of the world. The dismemberment of the
alliance between elves, dwarves and men, the fall of the pinnacle of magic, the
breaking of the unified world, and the end of all that was known.
But even now, faced with the undeniable result of oblivion, they fought on.
Elves hewed down thousands with their ungodly powerful magic, dwarves scythed
through their decayed opponents as if they were crops and they were harvesters,
and men, on their great horses, rushed about, complementing the specialized
tactics of their allies perfectly.
It could almost seem as if they had a chance, had he not known that their enemy
reached on for days and days, as far as the eye could see. But it would no
longer matter, for there was hope in the crushing defeat of this war. If they
could hold off the horde long enough, then life would thrive on, in defiance of
even this massacre.

The air crackled with magic channeled through a score of wizards, weaving enough
power to destroy a good portion of the globe. But the magic they had in mind far
exceeded simple destruction, it was a magic to preserve what little remained,
what little they could prepare for.

Teran O'Blithe, High Guard of the Elitist, and a member of the Citizens,
encircled the great alter that these wizards, battle hardened elves and holy men
alike, drew forth from an infinite power, drawing forth all they could. He only
had to defend them, allow them to hold their concentration, a few moments
longer.

But even now the enemy was breaking through their forces, battering down all
their hopes and dreams. And the enemy, this horde of undead beast, did not even
feel joy or pride in their inhumane victory. They could feel nothing, and thus
were the perfect avatar for the Dark.

It all began not so long ago, when the diviners who spoke to the gods ran
through the temple halls, screaming at the top of their lungs that the Sy'ki'kno
had been conceived! Soon after, the Dark, long thought dormant, had awoken. It
was even rumored that one of the Five had been Corrupted! Indeed that heralded a
great amount of fighting between Church and State, and even the church amongst
itself! The spiritual heart of the nation was torn apart, and broken into shards
of the former glory.

The Second Sect had embraced the Dark. Down to a follower. The Sixth Sect,
Morning's Glory, had buckled and the First Sect, the Shield of the Light, was
neutralized. The church was in disarray, and the State was divided and slowly
destroyed. Of the seven sects only four still stood when the fighting began, and
were soon crumbled into nothing as political propaganda and extortion grew to
its fullest.

Then Sayei Tomar had been put up, at the cost of the Most Holy Elenil-Coran's
life. This had hit the Third Sect hard, but that beating of indignation and
humiliation leant weight to them, and because of them, they had a chance.
Despite all odds, they had given a chance. That chance was crumbling to ash now.
Not a Citizen outside of the Elitist still lived, and indeed all of the Blood
were gone. There was nothing to go back to.

Because of this, because there was nothing to loose, Teran and his fellow
soldiers fought with all of their heart, knowing they could not win, and even if
their enemy lost, they would still loose themselves. They only needed to lend
some time to the wizards, and there would be a chance. Not since the Three
Brothers, some hundred thousand years before, had so many died for so little
gain. But now, all they faced was more loss.

The horde broke loose, and crashed into the Elitist Citizens with great
ferocity. Blood splattered the air. Teran rushed forward, bringing his sword
down on the skull of one of the rancid undead. Pus splattered forth, along with
decayed brain matter. The air behind him, where the wizards stood, crackled with
withheld power.

The line around him buckled in, and the enemy moved on, atop the alter. Now was
the time to make a stand, or loose everything and more! He rushed his horse
upward, knowing against all hope that they were doomed this day, that life and
the Light would fade away like so many dreams, that he could not stop this. That
he could not reach the wizards in time to stop the enemy, that he, and the
remains of his hollowed force could not protect even themselves, was irrelevant.
He had to give everything in this.

And then it began.

Light, pure and holy, from the center of the alter, burst forth, spraying stone
chips high into the red sky. The shear intensity and purity of the radiance
simply burned away the undead enemy. Perhaps there was a chance yet! A beam from
each of the twenty wizards, a beam of untainted light, fed the holy inferno,
burning into the sky, melting away the parasitic leech of life that was the
Dark.

The traitor finally decided to show himself, the traitor that they had all been
expecting, but not amongst the twenty themselves! The Light coming from one
suddenly dulled, and faded into a misty cloud of pure Darkness, the tempered
forced of it pouring into beam if light, corrupting it, damning it to failure.
The Light--which if Teran was correct, was all of the remaining magic in the
world!-faltered, and collapsed.

Three shards of power broke from that inferno, flying to the corners of Keryn
Tier. A fourth shard of power stayed between the nineteen wizards and the
traitor. And then death took them all in it's unforgiving grasp. One figure in
the center, a figure that ruled over all of Keryn Tier in her supremacy, was the
only one left alive when the others fell. She screamed in unholy pain, sounding
as if her very soul was being ripped from her. The earth fissured, splitting
into segments as it lifted into the air.

On that night, the world ended. The earth heaved in great waves like an ocean,
lowering mountains to molehills, and turning cracks into fissures. The oceans
boiled away into the sky, and even then the vapor turned into nothing. The world
was torn apart by fire as wave after wave of air so fine as a razor ripped
through reality. Civilization, what remained of it, lay in grand ruins that
night.

Teran fell to his knees, the screaming of the woman, the only living Archmage,
tearing into his mind. He felt a need, an irrevocable and all consuming need. To
forever protect the fragment of power, the shard of magic, that lie here. He
looked up through bloodshot, pain wracked eyes. The Archmage floated beside the
shard of magic, a stone block herself.

The web, the web that was their hope, had been perverted by the traitor. Along
with destroying the undead horde, it did a thing almost beyond the price of all
life. It lay a blanket of ignorance over the world, stealing the memories and
knowledge of the past from the few living, destroying all works of history and
any information of the world. It stole all of life's work, and replaced it with
a shroud of idiocy.

With that, both sides won a huge victory, and a huge defeat. Life, for now, went
on, but never knowing what had happened, or why. Never knowing of the Sy'ki'kno,
or why he was conceived. Never knowing of how to prepare for his birth, or the
earth-shattering consequences of his decisions. But life went on, to continue
its struggle against the force that was the Dark

***

He felt him, the Betrayer.

The Betrayer was close, oh so close. In fact, too close. He was above ground,
Tanuvein knew, and in fact, very close to the camp. Damn Graylor! He had trapped
the sphere, so that Tanuvein would see into a time long forgotten, holding
little bearing on the current events. Or had Tanuvein actually saw what had
happened before? Yes, he realized, that was it. And that was how the magic of
the scroll was stopped last time, long before this world stood as it did. Then,
that meant this world was two separate worlds? Indeed it did. And then...
Tanuvein jerked up with a jolt. Graylor knew this as well! He was going to bend
time, and bring back the past to the present. Why? He did not know. But what
could the scroll have to do with this now? And then he knew. Graylor did not
simply want the power of Simorp or the scroll. He want the knowledge. The
knowledge that was lost.
And then it hit him, a force of pure rage and hate. And he fell into the deep
throse of unconsciousness.

WITHIN THE TOMB

He moved along listlessly, the shadows hugging him as if he were one of the own.
He knew where the scroll was, and now it was his. He smiled widely as he lowered
a mist of darkness upon the encampent, enshrouding the others in an unholy
blanket of sleep. That night, he replaced the real scroll with a fake copy. A
copy that if read, would make the reader instinctively lash out at those around
him or her. So the next time someone here studied it, they would fight their
friends to the death.
And he now knew that he no longer needed Simorp. But, he would let her play her
games first.

SEVERAL MOMENTS LATER, IN SIMORP'S PRESENCE.

Graylor was sure that he had fully hidden the scroll in his pocket from any
magickal probes. He himself could not even detect it. He kept his face
emotionless.
"Lady Simorp, I know where your scroll is. It is in the with the one the others
call Doromond, and his fellow prisoners. I fear that that section is
predominantly rejecting me. I believe the only way to get the scroll is if you
go there yourself."

DAY 15

TIME INDETERMINABLE

Aboard the Arland's Dream her captain calls for his First Officer. "Tram, come
in here."
"Sir."
"Tram, I've been told that rumours of sabotage on our zeppelin have been
circulating among our allies. Take this note to Drs. Monti and Firebrand. And
let them know we are ready for flight as soon as you return."
"Aye, Sir." Tram answered as he left the bridge.
"Ensign," called the captain, "fetch Chief Weapons Officer Bellows."
"Aye, Sir." Came the scurrying junior officer's reply.

***

Oxo directed his party, teaching them the basics of demolition setting. The
serious elements he handle while they watched and marvelled. The kegs had been
dismantled and their component parts reconfigured and re-assembled in six points
on the basalt wall. They formed a rough arch nearly thirty-five feet apart.
"This will allow easy access for the Brandlebrant. Now we must finish our own
perimeter to shield ourselves from the blast and the Brandlebrant, as well as
any foes who decide to poke their ugly heads out."
Oro had returned sometime earlier and spoken at length with his brother and was
now preparing to return to Hamfast and wait. "We will be back when the
Brandlebrant has reached the forward position. Remember my brother, do not get
itchy to play with your toys." He grinned at Oxo and disappeared in a noisy
flash.

*****

Hamfast had been waiting over an hour. The darkness had begun to be a comfort.
Then he heard a faint, distant scraping. The noise was decidedly far away but
moving at a good clip. The echoes made it hard to discern distance.
-Phoooosshhhhhuummmmm- "Hello, Hamfast, anything new here?" Came Oro's query.
"Oh, is that echo what I think it is? How long has it been audible?"
"Just started, Uncle. Judging its rate I'd say we'll be seeing this nursery
story show up in twenty minutes, maybe half of an hour. Hey. You got an extra
chocolate ration on you?"

*****

Tram stepped into Dr. Monti's tent. "Sir, this message is from Capt. Nelson. He
requests that you and Dr. Firebrand read it with all haste. He also wishes me to
inform you we will be going airborne as soon as I return. Shall I wait for a
reply?"
Monti unfolded the parchment and studied the learned and formal script. "No. No
need to wait. Thank you. Guard. Summon Dr. Firebrand, I must speak to him
immediately."
Tram mentally arranged all he knew of recent events and the reaction of the
various captains to those events. "Monti was shocked by the Captain's message.
He needs to know that." Tram rushed back to the Zeppelin noting the crew already
casting off mooring lines. As he gained the flying ladder and started climbing
he called for the deckhand to alert the crew all were aboard.
The zeppelin was just reaching treetop level when Tram reached the bridge. "Sir,
your message was of some distress to Dr. Monti. If I may, what did you tell
him."
"Simply that our mechanical problems were not the result of sabotage. And I
reminded him that this zeppelin class was built to withstand concentrated
magickal fields up to a magnitude of four tulladynes."
"So," asked Tram, "you hinted that there was some mighty magick afoot?"
"Yes. Flow Specktrometry report?"
"High residual concentrations to the northeast. The area of plains we scouted on
our way here, Sir." Answered a voice.
"Helm," ordered the Captain, "when we are clear of the trees set in a course on
the FS report heading."
"Aye." called the helmsman.
"Optics, forward and flank telescope watches. Bellows, get your tracking and
firing crews ready. Is the airlance ready?
Optics bridge officer, "Aye"
C.W.O. Bellows called back, "Crews ready, weapons loaded, airlance and
components installed. Sir."
Slowly the zeppelin gained altitude. the treetops slipping past the gondola
windows.
"Captain, envelope top observer reports something very large on the plains.
Optics should have a sighting momentarily." Tram reported.

SOME TIME AGO

The frayed edges of Ghent's cloak swirled randomly in the currents he created
slogging through ankle-deep water. He canted crazily from side to side while
moving forward through the bone-chilling cold of the newly-fallen rainwater,
wearied and still beaten down.
Not of to the and for of the and I not for the to and of not the and and and not
Graylor for the not and am I I...
The lone, beaten figure continued away from oblivion and upwards. Somewhere in
his cracked mind, perhaps, there was some sort of direction aiming him upwards,
towards the surface from which all of this water poured.
Then again, perhaps not.
Ghent continued trudging upwards, rebounding off of walls and holding half-
intelligable conversations between himself and that which only the insane can
see.

GHENT REMEMBERS THE PAST

So, as you can see, when the potential difference across a capacitator
increases, the potential energy stored within this capacitator increases by a
factor of the square of the increase in voltage. As such, it is potential
difference, not charge, that is instrumental in utilizing the most energy, and,
as such, in utilizing the most destructive power.
Dust motes within a classroom danced as Sol threw light down upon the world of
Arcanum. Ghent sat in a row near the Academician and the front of the room,
allowing his mind to drift.

As the class shuffled out of the room and into the marbled hallway, the
Academician muttered absentmindedly to Ghent, "Hold. I wish to speak with you."
Stopping short, Ghent turned his gaze to look upon the aged Vater Hughes. Though
he was old, especially so for a human, he still held vitality and intelligence
enough to keep a high position in the Institute.

Looking up almost gently into Ghent's young and hard eyes, the Academician
asked, in a voice that was as cold as Ghent's eyes were hard, asked, "Have you
been attending your studies? You wander during lecture. I fear for your learning
here."
I will not be thought of in such a manner when my time comes.
Humble and controlled, Ghent replied, "I shall redouble my efforts towards
everything, and my attention shall increase tenfold."
The Academician, not detecting sarcasm in the tones of the ambitious
apprentice's voice, allowed his eyes to return to his work, which lay sprawled
over a desk.
"Very well."
Dismissal. Have you no end to your pettiness?
Ghent turned to leave.

DAY 15

JUST BEFORE SUNSET

****** THE ROOM OF BONES *****

Simorp sat in her thrown looking at Graylor and his stupidity, his lie that
Doromond had the scroll, did he think that such a lie would save him from her
wroth if she wanted to punish him.

She smiled an almost nonexistent smile that had sent shivers of fear over most
yet, Graylor still stood there, no longer afraid, seemingly sure of his facts.

This startled her, she quickly checked the dragons health.
NO it was still focused on the scroll that lay somewhere within the camp, so the
scroll was still there.

'FOOL' she said openly
'I know were the scroll is.
And you !
YOU have been played for a fool !
Even now my other servants look to the scroll in the camp.'

Graylor winced, and tried to take his leave of the thing that sat on the thrown.

'Graylor you have failed me for the last time, however I will let you live, IF
YOU BRING ME THE SCROLL. Fail me again and I will have my revenge !'

Simorp smiled within as Graylor's destruction was inevitable, but playing with
him was so much fun.

Graylor absorbed what she had said. So the scroll in his robes was a fake, and
the one he left would tip off the party that someone had access to the camp,
this was bad.

As he left he considered what he should do.

Simorp looked out through the Dragons eyes and new that the time had come.

She unleashed the hordes.

*
The Halflings heard the commotion coming from below through echoes on the walls
and knew time was running out

The Dragon bounded into the air heading towards its target and saw a strange
floating device in the distance near its objectives

The hordes below readied themselves for transport through the portal that was
beginning to form in the lower reaches, weapons readied the kytes, Granite rats,
Unmberhulks, Swamp things, Fire salamanders, scorpions and giant ANT lions began
to moan.

The ground shook, the ant lions dug and the scorpions followed there lead, the
portal formed and the great machine radiated energy as Simorp drew heavily on it
to fuel her power.

GHENT IS NOW VERGING ON HIS TWENTIETH YEAR OR SO

SEVERAL YEARS AFTER THE PREVIOUS FLASHBACK.

"Soon, after this time, we will be forced to fight these treacherous and
murderous beings, whom we once considered to be friends. They have stabbed us in
the back, and we will not be duped by them once again! Our armed forces are
strong, and with the power of natural wisdom and knowledge even a child of ours
can triumph over their notions of Magick and disreason!"

So went the words of the final call to arms on the island of Patrya. Ghent sat
alone, in deep study, when it was spoken to an intently listening crowd. Alone
at last and striving to escape the limitations of humanity, he was rarely seen
by teacher and compatriot student alike. Oftentimes the light in his room would
burn for longer than a night. Oftentimes he would come down little or not at all
for physical sustenance, feeding instead upon the work that he drove to finish.
Such fierce ambition was nearly unknown to the Researchers whose life-long task
it was to expand the aggregate knowledge of Patrya. They were expected to lead
lives of mild leisure and intellectual introspection, lest a brilliant mind
shine too brightly and burn itself out. The ferverent and the gentle were
expected to become soldiers and healers for Patrya, that they may serve in its
army and do so in a form that suited the individual who was doing the serving.

We are all soldiers now, Ghent thought as he gazed out into the twilight sky.
Honor... loyalty...
country... what do they all mean? These things are only words, and to risk a
life, let alone the lives of thousands, for these things alone is folly! Let,
rather, the weak die out and the strong survive. As it is in nature, so let it
be for all.
Truly, that which matters are the CONTROL and the POWER. Together, these things
allow mastery over self and surroundings, thus guaranteeing a place in the world
and fulfillment wherever one may be.
We are all soldiers. Let us, then, cement our power as a group for the people.
Let it be.

"The island of Patrya was originally inhabited some five thousand years before
its destruction. Because of its out-of-the-way location, it was left relatively
undisturbed, and those simple tribes of Humans who moved to inhabit it found
themselves in a bountiful land that offered them all they needed. Until four
thousand years B.D.*, the most advanced level of government was simple tribal
control.
"It is necessary to note that, while Patrya was a center for technological
development far ahead of its time, it was born of Magick. Magickal wars and
conflicts originally brought people to Patrya, and their distilling affect was
what created the proper atmosphere for a technological civilization. The first
conflict that brought refugees to Patrya, which at the current time had no name,
is thought to have been the same conflict that brought about the creation of the
Orcish race; at the same time, however, not truly knowing the exact era that
brought forth so savage and brutish a race makes this a rough guess.
"All the same, the pattern that typified the development of advanced settlement
on Patrya was a constant: when Magickal war drove refugees outwards, some came
to the sizeable island to wait out the destruction on the mainland. When wars
ended, those who wished to rejoin the mainstream returned. Those who did not
stayed.

"This allowed for the development of a unique civilization on Patrya,however
briefly-lived it was. After some time, truly permanent and 'modern' (for the
time) settlements were created on the island, and these settlements grew into a
closely-linked network of large towns and, once enough time passed, cities.

"About 1500 years B.D. Vater the Elder became the cornerstone of what is -- or,
rather, was modern Patrya. Through his unifying leadership, new economic and
social ties were created across the whole of the island until his son, Vater the
Younger, became the final keystone when the island of Patrya was united under a
council of knowledge. The common goal across all the island was knowledge and
its propagation over the years.

"It is all rather easy to say this, but it must seem rather different and
strange to you, who has probably lived in the mainstream life of Arcanum proper
and not known anything else.

"You see, in the creation of the original population of the island, those who
were inclined towards Magick were taken out of the picture immediately. In
addition, the already-present population was more technologically inclined than
is normal. As a result, a society that was somewhat closed (after some time of
existing as a refugee society, of course) and consisted of Humans in a setting
that already took to technology formed.

"This framework developed and prospered, and even the enormous amounts of
pollution and destruction that are associated with rapid technological
development were avoided, as the inhabitants were forced to keep the limited
space on which they lived and depended clean. In addition, the only known
massive anthracite coal deposits are located within Patrya itself. There are
some loads near the shore on the main continent, as well. Anthracite, being very
clean-burning and with a high energy yeild, is almost the perfect energy source
for technology.

"It was 500 years B.D. that the Tribus first encountered us in their expansion
into new territory. It would be fair to say that they met us when we were at our
height, but this is only true because it was our meeting them that began our
slide into destruction. "It seems that war and hostility can destroy any people
and any nation, no matter how glorious or unified they may think themselves to
be. And, it seems, hostility can poison a nation the same that nightflower can
kill a full-grown man."

B.D. == "Before Destruction"

-- Vater Hugh, Writings for Posterity -- Patrya in Exile

DAY 15

TROUBLE IN THE AIR

"Captain! Optics has sighted a dragon. Airborne. Headed this way. Two miles and
closing. Estimated weapons range in two minutes."

"Attention all hands. This is the captain. We are about to engage a creature
long thought extinct. Many of you have surmised our mechanical problems were
related to a massive localized influx of magickal influence. Whether it is
natural and gated in or of some potent magick is impossible to say. Assume
Magickal Adversary Protocol One. It is safe to assume this creature has a
tactical advantage of manuverability. Ours must be training, technology and
wits."

"One mile to weapons range, Sir."

The zeppelin moved lazily through the sky as its confused but angry foe drove
fiercely through the air. Through its eyes Simorp gazed, fascinated by this
enormous thing hanging, looming between the dragon and the camp. Both creatures
wondered what this marvel was. Neither believed it could pose any threat.

"Weapons range, Sir."
"Bellows," called Capt. Nelson, "reserve main weapons and airlance. Prepare to
activate the tesla defense. Light weapons may fire at will."
"Aye." Came the reply quickly joined by the crackling reports of four elephant
repeaters. Suddenly two burst of fire appeared striking the dragon in the left
wing and chest.
"Petrol launchers showing no effect, sir." squeaked a worried ensign.
"Then hold them in reserve." Shouted Bellows.

The dragon was amused by the swarm of gnats pelting its impenetrable hide. And
the fire it spouted was warming. This thing was no match for its own prowess in
the skies. What an insult for these puny mortals to send this up against one so
mighty. Pathetic.
It closed the remaining distance and prepared to tear into the gondola's hull.

"Mister Bellows? By all means." Ordered Nelson. "Tram activate the tesla
perimeter. Helm, hard to starboard."

The static generators sputtered to life. Blue veins of light flashed and crept
over the body of the zeppelin.
The dragon's head on charge was foiled by the sudden listing of the airship. Its
right claw finding nothing to strike. Its left grasped for a thin support
between gondola and envelope. The stike elicited a lightning-like discharge into
the claw and arm. The unexpected pain coupled with he force of the jolt sent the
dragon spinning off to its right.
The zeppelin's crew felt a shipwide shudder and were rocked by an explosion
beneath them.
Tram spoke, repeating the words coming through his earpiece. "Sir. We've lost
one of the port engines. Mr. Bellows reports they had to manually jettison an
armed petrol launcher. Optics reports the dragon suffered a severe wound to one
front leg, but is turning for another pass."
"Bellows. Primary weapons. Forward One -- use armour piercing. Forward Two --
use acid core. Target the left wing with the airlance."
The lazy dogfight continued as the zeppelin labored to turn and the dragon
wheeled to make another pass.

At a half mile a rifled cannon roared from the bow of the Arland's Dream. The
shell on target to crush the creatures skull suddenly veered to the left and
down. The only result, a tear in the reptile's left wing.
Enraged it pushed harder against the air. It would crush this thing and feast on
the insolent creatures inside.
At a quarter mile a second roar erupted from the zeppelin's bow. This shell also
veered slightly off course striking the dragon's lower back.
Jellied acid splattered and stuck to the back and tail of the dragon. It felt no
pain but its armour was dissolving. Scales became brittle. Centuries of
calloused hide softened. The dragon respond with a gout of flame.

Despite the tesla field the Arland's Dream knew her first losses. Both forward
observers and a forward gunner were caught by the flames. The zeppelin shudder
again as the static generators fused and the forward envelope segment burst.
Despite his ship's scars Nelson allowed a grin across his face.
"Airlance, Mr. Bellows."
The crippled airship's compressors released their stock.

At a few hundred feet the dragon readied to slay its metal foe. Simorp saw a
needle fly from the airship's keel. A massive steel harpoon, shot with the most
rudimentary of sciences pierced the left wing at its joint with the dragon's
body. The bone and tendons severed and useless.
Suddenly heeding the assertion gravity made, the dragon spun and crashed into
the trees below. The impact was felt a mile away in the party's camp.
Captain Nelson grinned. "Well done crew. Effect repairs. Bring about and station
directly above the encampment. The doctors will want to know this lizard is
heading their way."

DAY 15

THE BATTLE BEGINS

Simorp shuddered, she had distracted the Dragon from its target. That stupid
flying thing was obviously more powerful that she had imagined.
She let go her hold and concentrated on the troops massing below.
The machine hummed, the portal opened and they disgorged onto the plain near the
fortification on mass, surprising the waiting defenders who had been to busy
looking at the sky battle.
The dragon blinked teleported in space-time and reappeared 2 miles south of the
Zeppelin. It howled in pain, as its wings no longer worked. Concentrating all
its power it tried to heal its damage. Unable to do so it howled again
concentrated and looking towards the camp started off on foot, wings folded.
As it neared the camp it looked round for its target...

THERE IT WAS, It stood behind the walls of the fortification, thinking it was
safe within its defences, the beast concentrated and from the mass of bodies
laying at the fortifications feet it Created un dead, and focused them on its
target.

Looking to the sky it saw the flying thing coming back, It summoned a fire
Elemental and directed it towards the thing above, while slashing at the base of
the rear of the fortification.

Quench life would do it, it thought, all it had to do was get a clear shot at
the target, then it was all
over.

It cast reflective shield in case that thing fired again, then summoning all its
strength it jumped onto the wall that it had weakened, collapsing it down.

Meanwhile the defence of the gate was going well, many dead lay littered around
the entrance.
It was then that the Ant Lions burst through into the compound, followed by the
Scorpions and Kytes.

IN THE TOMB WELL BELOW GROUND

The Brandlebrant's mind raced with its legs as it closed in on Hamfast and Oro.
"New little juicy things i smell to fill my hunger wait wait many many many
little juicy things are nearby to fill my hunger for years i have not sensed so
many things for my hunger in my life i will not be hungry for a very long time i
wonder if the smooth rocks will be in my way ooh there are crunchy things filled
with gooey things up where the bright light is i like those too and will go and
fill my hunger with them the little things nearby are almost by my mouth."

Waiting until the Brandlebrant was within ten feet Hamfast steady the hushed
pistol and fired one round at the enormous black shape. Stung and infuriated it
moved to swallow the halflings and was foiled by Oro's teleportation. As the
Brandlbrant's brain registered his quarry a half mile away an explosion rocked
through the caverns.
"Funny stinging smells but all my favorite smells of things to fill my hunger
are sharper i go and find what made this noise and if i can fill my hunger."

****

As Hamfast and Oro appeared behind the perimeter Oxo lit the fuse network.
Moments later the meticulously placed charges collapsed the wall blowing a hole
into the Tomb. The party braced for anything that might assault them.

****

Simorp feeling drained from her own exertions drew more power from the Engine.
Its energies flowing into her while she focused on her summoned troops. She
commanded the host against the surface fortifications. Her will driving her army
on.
Pity she had never detected the halflings. She had underestimated the zeppelin's
strength. She knew nothing of explosives. In her centuries old quest for
knowledge and power she had been neglectful of some things.
Simorp's reliance on the Engine grew by the moment. It hummed in response.
Glowing. Drawing on energies still unknown to the sentient races.
Suddenly the Tomb quaked. Loose mortar and plaster fell to the floor. Something
was wrong! Where was her power. The Engine!
The detonation sent shards and slabs of basalt hurtling into the Engine's room.
The machinery, though rugged, proved too delicate for an onslaught of a half ton
of high velocity stone. Belts were shredded. The casing rent open in places.
Crushed in others. The Engine's own subsequent explosion nearly collapsed that
end of the Tomb and neighboring cavern.
Unwittingly, the halflings had robbed Simorp of the greater part of her power.

*****

Shaking off the shockwave the Brandlebrant smelled something from the distant
recesses of its tiny brain.

"She is here and nearby she was always sending chewy juicy things to me and i
would fill my hunger with them but she was not being nice to me she sent the to
make me go away from the place that i live i wonder how she would fill my hunger
and if she is chewy juicy like the chewy juicy things she would send to me."
It found the collapsed wall and ventured into the tomb.

A MOMENT IN TIME
AFTER THE MACHINES DESTRUCTION

Simorp was furious.

NO SHE WAS ANGRY.

NO she finally decided that she was so, well so, Shartferenium, (she couldn't
find the word for it in our language).

She had once again underestimated the opposition.
She could almost feel the thing that was making its way through her realm,
almost not totally, as it thought processes slipped through her fingers.
She sagged into her thrown, dejected, almost defeated, yet still determined to
crush the vermin that lay overhear, break free and destroy those that opposed
her. She searched her rooms, found the artefact and crushed it between her
hands, breaking the glass and shattering the seal that lay over the secret
compartment, taking the small white orb that lay within she breathed a sigh of
relief, it was still hole, still active.
On the Surface as one all the Mage's suddenly stopped their activity.

Graylor suddenly knew how she had done what she had done, THEY ALL KNEW were her
power, and her original power had come from.

Graylor & Tanuvein couldn't believe the device existed, then they remembered,
like a veil lifting form their mind the knowledge rushed in, then it became
clear, she had trapped a second, a moment, an insignificant amount of time
within the sphere.

NO THE DARK ONES HAD TRAPPED THE MOMENT.

And she, she was about to use it, to set it free.
Monti and the Princess stood stunned, the Halfling in the caves waved in his
plan, Graylor and Tanuvein sensed what she intended to do.
Brother Nikko felt it too and began to pray.
The battle disintegrated into disorganised chaos as the mind behind the attack
was diverted.
The dragon saw Monti and began to attack its prey within its grasp.
She crushed the device, the moment began, then suddenly collapsed, lost forever
as the device failed.

*****************************
THE GODS HAD SPOKEN.
THIS WAS NOT TO BE !
******************************

The devastation she had hoped for failed to come, yet what remained of the
moment was sufficient for her needs; once again she felt the power within her
grasp.
It might just be enough, just enough to win threw, enough to rule..
BUT SHE HAD ONCE AGAIN FAILED TO UNDERSTAND, ONCE AGAIN SHE HAD FAILED TO READ
THE NATURE OF PEOPLE.
HER BETRAIL HAD ALREADY STARTED.

Day 15

He felt it coming seconds before it hit, for all the good it did him now.
Graylor staggered as a powerful explosion rocked the tomb, causing small pebbles
and bits of gravel to rain from the ceiling as the tomb quaked. The sheer
concussive force of the explosion was greatly compounded by... magickal energy?
That could only mean...

The Engine! That insensate waste of negative energy! Did Ghent not warn her not
to strain the Engine's power until he had a chance to fully test it, until I had
catalyzed it with the power of that captured sword!? And now, NOW she attempts
to unleash such destructive force upon us all!?

Graylor had finally reached the limit of his patience with that meddling lich.
Graylor knew of her plans, particularly what she had planned for Ghent's fate,
and quite simply, for all her potential use, Simorp's danger to Graylor's own
plans were starting to greatly outweigh any value the vampiric elf could have
gotten from her. As much as he hated to admit it, it was time for Graylor to cut
his losses and escape with Ghent and his various machinery, and the other
components needed to rebuild the Magick Engine, in a much more useful capacity.

But first I have to deal with that lich...

His mind churned, trying to find a suitable strategy for disposing of Simorp. He
could easily overcome her simply by unleashing his full power, but that would
bring down the wrath of the Tribunal, leaving Tanuvein with free reign to employ
his own powers without restriction, in his efforts to track him down and kill
him. If it came to that, the outcome of their battle would be in doubt. That was
NOT something Graylor wanted, if it could be avoided.

How then, to get rid of Simorp?

Even in her fatigued state, Simorp could still defend herself quite vigorously,
and wihout his full powers to assist him, Graylor would be hard-pressed to kill
her in an efficient manner, which would be important, because as soon as those
adventurers on the surface had dealt with Simorp's minions (and they would,
Graylor knew), they would likely be mounting an attack on the tomb itself.
Graylor would have to get her to lower her guard somehow... What about that
scroll she had been obsessed with? Graylor had managed to steal a copy of it
from that camp, mere minutes before the dragon attacked... perhaps he could
twist its power, into something more damaging to that lich?
He grinned. It was always satisfying to come up with a good plan, especially one
that involved deception and betrayal. First things first, though.

Losing little time, he sought out Ghent's room. "Ghent... I fear that what I
have warned you about, has come to pass. The Magick Engine has been destroyed,
and Simorp has lost all grip on reality. She means harm to both of us. We must
escape from this place as soon as possible, but there are matters I have to
attend to first. Pack your schematics and other belongings, we have only
precious hours to work with."

Before his words even had a chance to sink in, Graylor had turned back toward
his own study, where he had carefully hidden the scroll little realising that
Ghent had not actualy been in the room, it had merly been a construction left
their.

MENWHILE IN THE AIR ABOVE THE BATTLE FIELD

"Optics, Sir. Dragon sighted. Heading for camp. Fire elemental approaching."

"Hard Starboard. Flank speed. Bellows get ground support weapons readied.
Engineering restore the static generator and speed hull repairs. Secondary
weapons get rid of the uninvited guest."
The Zeppelin wheeled in the sky its working engines straining against the wind.
A half dozen light weapons fired on the elemental dissapating it in the wind.
Coming about the bridge crew could see the dragon closing on the camp. The
defenses were beleaguered. A host of creatures were boiling out of the Tomb and
the ground around the camp.
"Bellows, your men have permission to fire at will on ground targets --
secondary weapons only. Have petrol launchers set for broad dispersal.
Engineering angle our approach. Helm set intercept with that lizard. Bellows,
primary cannons set to target the dragon and affect continuous fire. Is a second
airlance feasible?"
"Bellows reports no, Sir." Answered Tram.
"Good. Do it anyway."
The zeppelin's approach brought it over the left flank of Simorp's forces.
Looking to see the cause of the shadow they had a moment to witness the fire
raining down upon them. Repeating rifles and light cannons found marks in the
line's center. From this altitude few mortal wounds were inflicted. However the
injuries and chaos on the line provided opportunity to the camp's defenders. If
they could capitalize on it.
The dragon prepared to bring down its prey. Dr. Monti, focused on the battle
before him, offered no defense against his doom. The runes of Quench Life formed
and clarified in the dragon's mind. They suddenly distorted and faded.
The Arland's Dream opened with both main cannons. The reports distracted the
dragon. The shells did more. The creatures innate magick disrupted the natural
trajectories, but not with sufficiency. An acid shell veered down and exploded
against the dragon's belly. An armour piercer severed the right foot from its
limb.
Roaring with pain, the dragon reared and collasped. Its broken wing and missing
foot leaving it unable to balance.
Dr. Monti, now aware of the danger posed erected defensive magicks, looked
skyward, hoped Captain Nelson would prove victorious, and removed five kites and
an antlion from the field.
"Keep us at range, helmsman. I don't want to be roasting mutton on my bridge.
Bellows, recommendation on cold reaction shells versus target."
Tram shouted Bellows reply over the noise of battle. "Impossible to say. We have
no accurate tulladyne reading on the target. It is not impervious but does enjoy
some protection from technology due to its magickal nature. Cold reaction shells
may fail to work, even if they hit the target."
"Switch out every other acid shell with a c-r shell."
"Aye, Sir."
The dragon squirmed and weaved to avoid the zeppelin's guns. Fewer shells were
striking it, but it was on the defensive. Where was the mistress that summoned
him? Had she dared abandoned one as powerful as he? She would pay. Her essence
would augment his own when he had consumed her rotting flesh. Pain, extreme
pain, registered. Cold. He could move quickly. His right flank numbed, the
scales brittle. Pierced!
C.W.O. Bellows followed the captain's orders. The first two c-r shells had
missed completely, bringing winter to small patches of the forest. The third
detonated but the chemicals failed to react naturally. The fourth, however,
scored well. Its armour piercing sister found a mark. The scales made brittle
offered no resistance to that shell. It passed through the dragon's entrails and
was only stopped at the far side of the dragon by its still strong scales.
The creature slumped. It mind failing to focus on the healing runes. Thoughts
interrupted with fire runes. Forcing focus. Willing the runes to happen. The
dragon burst into flames, immolated by its errant magick.
Captain Nelson turned his attention to the main battle.

THE BATTLE CONTINUES

The Dragon was dieing. It was burning up inside, its will broken it would take
whomever it could with it when it went.

Monti watched the animal collapse against the rear fortification, unaware of its
final thoughts, but realising that he had been the focus of its enmity he cast
Tempus fugue and urged his companions to move outside the animals range.

The dragon fell heavily onto the ruins of the rear wall and with its last
conscious thoughts released its breath and its hold on reality, spiralling into
non-existence the carcass suddenly burst into a fireball that exploded like
dynamite, destroying the walls and knocking the defenders off there feet.

Clan Firebrand lost 6 good men in the explosion and a few Elves were injured as
they ran to aid their comrades.

The rest of the defenders recovered, just in time, for the next wave of Simorps
forces rippled out from the ground.

Stanislo awoke, his eyes burning with desire, his Body almost healed, his mind
lost.
Lost deep within the flames of toucher, his will dominated by Simorp he
hesitantly rose from the bed.

Graylor's thoughts where interrupted, his spy within the camp reported what she
saw.
The Dragons attack, its description, the camps current shape and Stanislo's
activities.

Graylor, stopped and knew that his copy of the scroll was just that, a copy, the
original still within the camp. Simorp had known when he spoke to her that the
scroll was in the camp, she knew he had lied; she was obviously weaker that he
had thought.

DAY 15

EARLY NIGHT

The fires from the dragon burned bright, its destruction had slightly changed
the battle as now the enemy had easy access from the rear of the camp and the
dwarfs were busy trying to shore up the defences.

Stanislo made his way slowly towards the entrance of the tent where the injured
lay, dagger in hand ready to do his mistresses work.

Monti lay against the front defences recovering from fatigue, the fabled
medications that the Halflings had brought had finally run out and now the Mages
were slowly dropping as they sircome to the continually use of there Magic.

The Techs faired little better there supplies were running low and had it not
been for the Zeppelin continually harassing the invaders, the camp would have
been overrun.

Dr Renor Firebrand was in his element, directing the defences, keeping track of
the camp and supplies and trying to ensure the continued safety of all those
within the camp. He, of course, could do nothing for those outside the camp and
had already had 'words' with Monti about his ill-advised advice to the
Halflings, who's help would certainly be beneficial now.

Perinio was deep within the defence of the rear opening, his swords flew like
lightning, cutting a swath through the enemy which were continually replaces,
his cuts and bruises were hard to see but the damage to his armour was more than
visible. Beside him stood Doromond and Tim who both fought bravely to defend the
gap and give the dwarfs time to repair the rear entrance.

Jim and the Princess as well as her guards where repelling the invaders within
the camp, assisted by Tanuvein and the battle was just as fierce their as
anywhere else within the base.

Renor sent for a Halflings that had arrived with the Zeppelin, to act as
communications officer.
'Sir' he said as he entered
'Contact the Zeppelin, see if they can concentrate their fire on the rear, we
need to strengthen the defences there or we are lost.'
'Sir'
'Also, see if they know about reinforcements, another Zeppelin about now would
really help'
'Yes sir.' Said the emissary as he left.

Renor was worried, he had had no idea that whatever lay in the tomb was so, well
so well defended.
He turned to Scratch who sat beside him, not having made it onto the Zeppelin
before its departure.
'Sir ?' he said breaking into the silence
'Yes ' Scratch answered
'Do you have any resources available ?'
'None that I have not already committed.' he replied ' I fear that this
expedition will break me; these costs are beyond my means. I have no regrets you
know. If whatever lies below us had reach full power unmolested, I would have
feared for this world, but, my friend, I cannot afford what this has cost me, NO
US.'
'I don't think you will be responsible for all this Scratch' Renor replied
'No, its not the money I think of. It's the emotional cost, the death, the loss
of so many whose lives are shortened. NO, NO its not the money, for that I have
no worries, the remaining treasures below will more than recompense the
financial outlay. No it's the other hidden costs, those are the ones I am
talking about. That and the loss of friends, I fear we will not all return, and
for that I would gladly not have started this. My daughter, what have I done to
you,.'

Renor understood, he too worried about the party, but his concerns were more for
the next minute, second or hour rather than for the unforeseeable future.

The attack continued, Perinio was loosing ground to the invaders; the kites and
swamp things were gaining ground when the Zeppelin moved overhead and opened
fire, well behind the enemy lines.

Stanislo entered the healing tent, eyes fixed on the wounded, dagger drawn,
intent in his eyes.

Simorp smiled, she would have her revenge, if only in part, she would not be
denighed, Stanislo was just the tool that she needed.

DAY 15

STILL NEAR THE TOMB

Ghent moved through the forest as quickly as he could, fleeing from that
accursed tomb. He knew that while the decoy he set up back in the tomb would buy
him time, it wouldn't fool either Simorp or Graylor for very long. To the south,
he could hear the sounds of explosions and powerful magickal discharges off in
the distance, which he wisely ran away from.

* *
Doromond slammed the breech shut on his newly-acquired rifle, secretly cursing
the twist of fate that removed his enchanted sword from his possession as he
took aim at the crowd of monsters again. Perinio and Tim were barely holding
them back, slicing through them by the score, and yet, it seemed for every kite
or ant-lion that fell, three more rose to take its place. A short distance back,
Meighan was concentrating on providing Perinio and Tim with various protective
and strengthening spells, as well as throwing the occasional Lightning Bolt into
the fray, but the strain was starting to wear on her, and she was almost out of
stamina potions. The zepellin was overhead and firing into the crowd of
monsters, its guns and explosives ripping through the kites in large numbers,
relieving some of the pressure from the others, but not enough.
Elsewhere within the camp, Jim and the Princess' guards were decimating the
attacking kites and zombies, but not quickly enough. The Princess had summoned
an ice storm over the monsters, freezing many of them in their tracks, and
Tanuvein conjured several elementals, while Curtis swept a Tesla Rod bolt
through the crowd.

Adding to the overall chaos of the battle, the sky darkened and several black
lightning bolts struck the camp; while they did little to harm any of the group,
they did considerable damage to the structures. At the same time, several
elementals burst through a portal in the middle of the camp, looking for
targets.

*
Graylor stood up and stretched briefly, taking a few moments to relieve both his
eyes and his body from the work of copying the scroll. As he did so, he almost
idly "queried" his spy within the camp, examining the battle through her senses,
and looking on it with somewhat mixed feelings. As much as he enjoyed watching
those adventurers struggle, he needed the battle to be dragged out as long as
possible, so as to buy Graylor more time to work on the fake scroll, before
Simorp summoned him yet again. And he needed time to prepare a portal powerful
enough to move what remained of the Magick Engine.
"Releasing" his binding to Meighan's senses, he mentally searched the tomb,
planning to look in on Ghent. Needless to say, he was both quite angry and
surprised when, a few seconds later, he found no trace of the human whatsoever.
Taking a moment to ward his room against intruders, Graylor took off down the
halls, heading toward Ghent's room/study, planning to search for him, and
chiding himself for allowing too much of his plans to hinge on Ghent. He
couldn't just let him get away now, especially with the Magick Engine destroyed.

DAY 15

NIGHT

Stanislo was working his way into the tent when he noticed the hooded figure at
the back, bending over the wounded offering sustenance and healing.

Ignoring him Stanislo moved over to the first Halfling that lay within the
confines of the tent and taking his dagger he silently slit its throat, placing
his hand over the mouth to silence the gasp.
It gave a satisfying sigh and died quietly. Still unnoticed he continued to work
his way into the tent, when his mistress interfered.
'Go to the main tent' the voice in his head told him.
So leaving he made his way, slinking through the undergrowth (or what remained
of it) to his destination.

*****
The Brandlebrant's was unhappy although as it feasted on the remains of the
troops that still occupied the lower levels of the Tomb. There had been so many
nice crunchy, squirmy, Tasty things to eat, and they had all gone. And SHE was
still here. HER touch had come earlier. Oh how it wanted to EAT HER, she would
be so crunchy, so sweet, after all she had sent treats occasionally.
It made its way thought the lower caverns eating as it went, but not enough to
satisfy its deepest hunger. The hunger to be free, to eat and roam as it willed.

**

Simorp sat on her thrown, Jacinta on the alter in front of her the child within
forming well.

The battle was not going well and Smiorp was beginning to think that she may
lose, if only she was free, free from this tomb, she would be able to attack
then herself, then they would know terror.
The Dark ones demanded more blood, yet there was sufficient above to satisfy
their desires if only she could get there and perform the ritual, she would have
access to their power, able to call forth minions to her hearts content.
As she brooded, Jacinta awoke, her mind freed from the confines of Ghent's
drugs, her body whole, she suddenly KNEW what had happened, ALL OF IT. And the
child within made her vomit, nausea wracked her body and she knew it hadn't been
a dream, she was pregnant.

**
Hamfast followed the Brandlebrant at a discreet distance. His uncles and the
rest of the halflings and dwarves were back another thirty paces. He was awed at
the appetite this thing had shown. Close to a hundred creatures, from kites to
elves to giant scorpions, had simply disappeared in its maw. It shrugged off
both magickal and physical assaults like a draft horse swishing flies.
And it was moving with purpose. Hamfast was noting a certain symmetry between
this unknown part of the Tomb and the previous explored portion. He unsheathed
his blade with his left hand. The hushed pistol was already drawn in his right.
The Brandlebrant stopped at a turn in the corridor. Hamfast heard a small party
- three elves and an antlion - turn another corner, spy the invader, and turn
tail.
He signalled his uncles.

The Brandlebrant turned the other way and moved down the hall. Its pace
increased. "She will soon fill the rest of my hunger because she is near and she
has no more tasty crunchy things to send me to make me go away".
The party came to the intersection and the dwarves were set to guard against the
group Hamfast had heard. The halflings moved up to within fifteen paces of the
kinsman.
The Brandlebrant stopped at a doorway. It shook its head. Something was
bothering it.

****

Simorp knew it would not hold. If her desperation were not so great she would
have saved her strength. She attempted to control the monster's mind and flet
it, and her energy, slip away. Her focus was divided by exhaustion, multiple
threats, and the shame of stupid defeats. Jacinta's movements were unheeded by

Simorp even as the lich planned this final stroke. The doors' enchantments would
keep the Brandlebrant out.

Wisdom had grown in the creature in its centuries of wandering the caverns.
Something was not right with the door. Two of its forward paws were raised up
and pressed against the stonework to either side. The Brandlbrant's full weight
and strength was brought to bear on the wall.
Hamfast crouched and shielded himself from any debris that might result. The
others followed his lead.

Simorp was startled. First by the crashing of the stone leading into the room.
Second by the fact that she was startled. The Brandlebrant raced for its prize.
Its bulk colliding with the altar and knocking Jacinta to the ground. Simorp
prepared to defend herself against her foe.

Unseen, Hamfast moved into the room. Skirting the walls. Staying to the right.
Oxo and Oro moved in going to the left. The halfling guards filled in behind.
Rubble and ornamentation provided ample cover for the band. The were fresh and
armed. Their quarry weak and possibly doomed in the jaws of the living myth.
Hamfast signalled 'hold'. The hair, yes, the face? The attack suddenly became a
rescue.
How could they get Jacinta out alive with both Simorp and the Brandlebrant
here?

NIGHT ...

The Brandlebrant was beginning to make a dent in Simorps forces and wounder of
wounders its hunger was abating. If only those small crunchy things would stop
throwing things at it, it would probably have gone of to sleep of its first good
mean in ages. Unfortunately those tiny things kept attacking and, anyway they
crunched nice.

***
Simorp was devastated, her power almost all gone, Jacinta escaped, THAT THING
decimating her forces, she leaned back into her thrown and concentrated on
Stanislo, at least there she had an advantage, albeit a small one, maybe she
could kill the party one by one.
Her rooms rumbled with her chanting, seconds later a lesser Daemon appeared. The
Daemon, bound by her summoning, bowed before her unwillingly.
'I have a task for you' she said, It nodded
'Go through the doors over there, down the halls to a room with a silver door,
enter this and on the third shelf on the western wall you will see a scroll
bound by a golden thread. Bring it to me.'
It bowed and left

***
Perinio was dieing, his wound were deep and his left sword arm hung almost
useless in dust and blood, the defence of the rear walls had not gone well, even
now the enemy was breaking through, soon his life would end, as it should, in
the defence of his comrades in arms.
Tim stood above him offering the last vestige of protection he could, Doromond
was still in the fray, attempting to turn the tide that rushed in, his life hung
in the balance.
Within the main tent Renor and the almost recovered Monti were planning to renew
the attack on the forces outside the main gate.
Within the camp the defenders were winning, the slaughter of the invaders was
great and the defenders had payed a high price for there stubborn deference, at
least 20 Elves and dwarf bodies littered the ground, along with Halflings.
The front gates were on fire, casting an eerie light over the plains
illumination the hordes that had finally breach the second trench with its
traps, their final assault lay minutes away.

***

That is when all hell broke loose. Suddenly in the centre of the battlefield
screaming began, voices lifted in terror as a huge behemoth suddenly appeared
within the forces.
Brilliant lights light the sky as it tripped some magnesium flare traps that had
been set. IT roared and began to devour the hordes that lay beneath its feet.
The camp as one cheered and messengers were sent to the main tent.

***

The smell of blood and death was like a magnate for the scavengers for miles
around, they began to arrive and eat there fill, wolves, snakes, spiders and
other night creatures descended upon the scene, they had no preferences for
either side and attacked both if disturbed.

**
"We've got to keep this battle balanced until we can get Jacinta out of here."
Hamfast thought to himself. "Uncle Oro can certainly teleport her out and the
rest of us can flee down the passages."
Simorp and the Brandlebrant faced each other pausing as their gazes locked. Fear
and hatred were in Simorp's eyes. Hunger and curiousity twinkled in the
Brandlebrant's.

She rose her staff to smite its snout, thinking she could perhaps cow it into
submission. The discharge of magick stung the Brandlebrant backing it a few
paces.

Hamfast moved for Jacinta dragging her behind cover of the broken altar. Oro
joined him while the adversaries continued to ponder each other.
"Uncle, get Jacinta back to camp and meet us back in the caverns. We'll need you
to get us all back to camp as quick as you can."
Oro nodded to his nephew and with Jacinta disappeared with a roar of magick.
Simorp glanced towards the altar. Thoughts of who had teleported raced through
her mind. The distraction ended the stalemate in the creature's mind and Simorp
turned back to it lunging for her head. The staff flashed again. The
Brandlebrant was knocked away to her right. She raised it, preparing to
discharge its energies again.

-tiiinngggrrraaacccckkk!- Splinters flew from the staff. Two light thuds sounded
between Simorp and the beast dazing both. The halflings withdrew silently from
the room and flew down the corridor to their dwarven companions. With all haste
that company fled to the outer caverns.

***************

Oro's skill brought he and Jacinta into the middle of the medical tent. Laying
her on a cot he saw a halfling lying with its throat slit. Wheeling he spied the
hunched form fleeing the tent. "Not the best time for a chase", he mused.

******************

Simorp's rage broke her focus. Where had those miserable haflings come from? How
did they get the girl? How dare they unleash this abomination into her realm and
interrupt her plans. How dare they shatter her staff. As much as the shrunken
and decayed flesh could it narrowed around her eyes. The engine, the orb, her
staff, her sacrifice all her extra power was being taken from her.
"No more you insufferable beast. This is my realm. Here I am sovereign. You have
plagued me for ages. Begone!" With that Simorp spent the last of her energies
and collapsed onto her throne.

***************

The Brandlebrant shddered in the chill of the night. Sniffing it opened its jaws
and swung around. "She was hurting to me and all i want is to fill my hunger
with her but here i am with many things of crunchy chewy tasty slipperiness to
fill my hunger with." And so, having been gated through the same portal Simorp
had used to unleash her army, the Brandlebrant began to devour her forces.

****

A single, weary figure, dust clinging to the cloak that flapped around it like a
weary hand, stumbled away from the twisted carcass of a wolf-beast.

The body was contorted and mangled in an almost obscene manner; its limbs were
knocked completely eschew and frozen in an embrace of death. On its upper chest
there was a single, large, black char mark where fur, skin, and muscle were
burned away nearly to the chest cavity.
The lone figure staggered forward, leaning on a staff, and then collapsed to its
knees.

On Ghent's head there was a large bump, and blood had run over his face and then
dried to a crust.

Tears trickled down from the corners of his eyes, making small tracks of clean
skin through the dirt and blood.
Through the haze of madness the pain and confusion of the head injury
penetrated, and as his consciousness fled so did a single word escape from his
lips.
"Amberle."

A FEW HOURS BEFORE DAWN

Simorp was exasperated the daemon had returned with the scroll and been
dismissed, but for some reason she was unable to read it. She knew what was on
it, after all she had written it 300 years ago, and the trouble seemed to be
remembering what language she had written it in.

*

The Brandlebrant had made an enormous difference and what remained of Simorp's
troops would prove little difficulty, if only that thing would stop eating
everything it came across.

Firebrand hopped that at dawn the creature would flee to the caverns below,
leaving the field free for the party to attack. Meanwhile In the medical tent
Brother Nikko worked feverishly tending to the injured.

*

The rear gate had finally been lost and its defenders had managed to escape
behind to the secondary defences that the dwarfs had constructed. They now
counted there losses, Perinio was mortally wounded, Tim was deeply wounded and
Doromond had a deep cut into his left arm yet all three still continued to
defend the rear, waiting for dawn, hoping for relief.
Jacinta was wounded, no not physically, mentally, she was still imprisoned
within the tomb in her mind, yet here she was in the company of Halflings who
had rescued her from that evil. She had no idea how long had passed since she
was taken and only remembers snatches of conversations. BUT she remembers
everything after with a clarity that was unnatural. She also knew she was
pregnant, and to who but not what.
She felt the power within her growing and remembers spells she had never learnt,
like Tempus fuge, Portal, Summon Familiar, Harm, and others, she remembers a
scroll she had only seen once, on here original journey but she remembers it
with such detail that she could almost read it.
Then she remembered her father, the party and Simorps plan to attack.
'Hamfast.' She wailed 'HAMFAST, GET HAMFAST', he arrived quickly
'Hamfast I must tell you, Simorp wants to kill Firebrand and Monti, she has a
spy in the camp.
Stanislo is a replicant, and directly under her control, she plans to kill them
with him.'
Her knowledge rushed into Hamfasts' mind, he knew, he remembered, but Stanislo
was in the camp, he rushed to tell his uncles the bad news.

*

Simorp tested the bonds of her binding once again.

Yes the Brandlebrant had weaken the walls, and had disrupted the flow of the
magic that held her trapped within these rooms, yet she still was bound, if only
she could just read the binding spell she would be released, there would be
plenty of time to r4ead the rest later.
Yes that was it read the binding spell, and then go to the surface, Take
command, kill the fools that opposed her, THEN open the portal, bring forth her
troops and take this world for herself.

**
Doromond tried to ignore the burning pain from his arm as he slashed and stabbed
at creature after creature with his bayonet, hoping to clear a path to the
wounded Perinio. Tim, most likely knowing his intentions, simply rushed into the
fray, cleaving into the monsters with his greatsword, as Perinio, even on
death's door, valiantly fought to keep his own attackers at bay. Tim managed to
reach the wounded half-orc a few seconds before Doromond did, and began to
continue fighting off the thinning hordes of kites, umberhulks, and other
assorted creatures, shouting at Doromond to get Perinio to the medical tent as
fast as possible. After casting a Shield of Protection spell on Tim, Doromond
proceeded to sling his rifle over his shoulder, pick up Perinio, and withdraw as
quickly as he could, as Meighan regained some of her stamina and proceeded to
conjure a pair of Guardian Ogres to at least temporarily take his place.

*

Graylor's search for Ghent ultimately proved futile.

He had searched almost the entire tomb thoroughly, and for several miles in the
surrounding areas aboveground, to no effect. Ghent had simply dissapeared, and
obviously lost little time in placing distance between himself and the tomb.
Ordinarily, it would not be much trouble to track Ghent down, but even with the
scroll taken care of, there were still other pressing matters to take care of
before his withdrawal. To make matters worse, from what he had seen of Ghent in
the past several hours, Graylor seriously questioned whether the man was in any
sort of condition to work on the Magick Engine.
He would most likely have to locate another techologist. Perhaps that prisoner
who had escaped with Doromond.... Curtis, wasn't it? Graylor remembered, that
his sudden morality had almost set back the construction of the Engine
considerably. Graylor wouldn't make the same mistake again; he would make sure
that Curtis was properly charmed before trusting him with any sort of work. He
might have to recapture Doromond too. There was something about that sword that
he simply could not divine, and that was no minor source of worry for Graylor,
who had no particular wish for something that was overlooked to eventually...
how did the saying go? 'Bite him in the rear?' Doromond was likely the only one
who knew for sure the nature of the sword and its magick, and in addition, with
a large portion of Simorp's forces lost either to those adventurers or to the
Brandlebrant, Graylor himself was desperately short on servants who could aid in
his defense, as well as that of the Engine, should his new hideout be
discovered.

*

Doromond ran for the medical tent with alarming speed, carrying the now
unconscious and badly bleeding Perinio. As he entered the tent, though, he
spotted a familiar figure getting up from the cot. Could it be...?

"Jacinta!"

She immediately turned toward Doromond, looking visibly relieved to both be out
of the tomb, and at seeing another familiar face. Then she recognized the
wounded person he was carrying as Perinio.
"He's wounded?" Jacinta asked somewhat redundantly.
"Yes. He'll die if he doesn't get help soon..." Doromond said, his voice
betraying some worry.
"I'll take care of him, you go worry about the others!" she shouted, apparently
having heard the battle outside.
Doromond unslung his rifle and took one last look at Jacinta. The expression in
his eyes was clear enough; i There's so much I want to talk to you about, but
this is neither the time nor place for it... Without a single word, he charged
back to the rear gate, hoping that the others hadn't lost much ground in his
brief absence.

They hadn't, thankfully. Tim was in a berserk rage as he cleaved through the
monstrosities that stormed the gate, and Meighan's summoned ogres were denying
the attackers the opportunity to simply slip past. Meighan herself was soaked in
sweat from head to toe, as her brow furrowed in both concentration and
determination, her breaths became harder and more shallow, and she clenched her
teeth together, even as she attempted to heal Tim in the midst of the battle.
Doromond charged back into the fray, firing his rifle into the crowd from the
hip and perparing to engage them with his bayonet, not particularly caring who
was hit, as long as Tim wasn't hit, and as long as he killed some of the
creatures. Those monsters won't be inflicting any more casualties. Not while I'm
still alive, he thought with newfound courage. It's not over yet...

DAWN

Simorp had finally remembered what language she had written the scroll in.

Speaking it softly she read the scroll to the end. The Wyvern appeared almost
immediately, 6 of them crowded in her rooms. She looked over them and choosing
the strongest looking male spoke to it.
'Kill Firebrand, nothing else matters, nothing else is important, kill him then
you are free to do as you will.'
She then spoke to them all in turn, telling them their tasks. Leaving nothing
out, making clear that nothing and no one was to distract them from their
targets. Then she porteled them straight into the middle of the camp, where her
furthest troops stood.
Stanislo had crawled into the main tent and had watch Monti closely. Patiently
he waited following Monti round in the shadows, waiting, and then it happened,
Monti when for the scroll, Stanislos heart beat faster; he knew where it was,

SHE KNEW WHERE IT WAS.

The Wyverns arrival was a surprise, and their attack took place just as dawn
broke. Doromond had just finished killing the last swamp thing that had entered
the camp and was reloading his weapon when they materialised. He immediately
dropped to the ground, loading his weapon quickly he got off a few quick shots
at the enemy before they orientated themselves and took off after their pray.
Monti took the scroll and wandered back to the main tent unaware that his life
had reached that point where it could go either way. If he did one thing it
would end, if he did the other, it may continue.

Brother Nikko was working feverously on Perinio, Jacinta stood near unable to
remember the healing spell she held his hand hoping the comfort was sufficient.
Her mind reached out unknown to her and saw Perinio's pain, it touched that
point and the pain vanished.

Death stalked the tent and Brother Nikko was everywhere tending the needs of the
wounded when the portal opened, he quickly drew his dagger and was about to
strike when an elderly Abbot stepped through and rasing his hand in blessing
said. 'Well done my son. We have seen you need and have come to help' saying
that the portal opened slightly and 5 Brothers from the order stepped through
immediately heading for the beds of the wounded and began to minister.

**
As dawn was breaking over the camp the Brandlebrant, satiated and startled by
the light, sought sleep and sanctuary underground.

Overhead the zeppelin complete with fresh repairs drifted over the battlefield
eliminating targets of opportunity. Observers noted the sudden appearance of a
half dozen wyvern in the middle of camp. Word reached fire control in moments
and two of the wyvern fell from the sky. One was impaled on a tent's poles. The
other landed twenty odd feet from its head.

**********

The halflings stepped out of Oxo and Oro's tent. Seeing the wyvern they set to
work. Oro still fresh immediately altered the time flows allowing the camp to
react. Two of the slowed wyvern apparently made easy targets for the zeppelin's
guns. Oxo spent two magazines on a third leaving a red mist where its chest had
been. Doromond's shots crippled the wing of a fourth and it dropped to the
ground angered and ready to fight.
The largest wyvern had broken from the rest. Hamfast gave chase, not to
difficult with the time differential in the camp, shouting back to his uncles,
"Remember Stanislo."

SOME TIME ON DAY 16

I haven't had time to update the journal till now.

To much has happened and I have sad news, Monti is dead. Stanislo managed to
somehow get off his sick bed and creep into the command tent. He stabbed Monti
through the heart, cutting a long trail from the middle of the back through to
the chest. No one saw it coming.

I guess it really wasn't Stanislo, what was left wasn't him, It must have been
Simorp because he then took the scroll Monti was holding and promptly ate it,
then fell dead as his body self destructed.

The nearest the princess and the Oro can figure it, Simorp was controlling
Stanislo, and somehow now has the scroll.

Monti is dead. I have travelled with him for 5 years now and his loss is great,
his knowledge, although specific, was great. I will miss him.

Jacinta has collapsed from the strain and the wound in her side, (also courtesy
of Stanislo), I think something else is wrong to, there was an attack by wyverns
earlier, most were killed but one took extraordinary pains to attack the command
tent, I think that without our brave Halflings I too would have joined the list
of the dead.

We have won the surface battle, nothing is left of her forces here, and what
remains of her forces below cannot be great as the escapees have given us as
much information as we required.

BUT.

BUT our losses too are great, We have lost over 50 Dwarf, 30 Elf, 20 Halflings
as well as Monti, Perinio (who remains critical), Jim who is recovering,
Stanislo (the traitor), and maybe others as, as yet we have not had a report
form the rear gate.

Scratch is also missing, he was here when the battle started, but soon after the
Zeppelin left he went missing, I know not if he is with the Zeppelin or
somewhere else. Not that it matters, I think even his coffers would not cope
with the losses here today, and I believe it may even send him broke, this
expadition is not what we expected. Things have happened that should never have
been, and Jacinta, she is pregnant, to whom or what I know not. BUT this worries
me, that Simorp caused this is no idle fancy, but to what end ?

I wait the report form the field, we must press on and take Simorp now, before
she has time to regroup and replenish her armies. I plan to lead the attack on
her domain as soon as the report arrives. FIREBRAND

Day 16

Simorp was finally free. Monti was dead and even though she did not have the
scroll, she was free.

She revelled in the ability to finally leave the Room Of Bones. Just the ability
to step beyond her confines thrilled her, let alone the knowledge that she would
be able to take care of things herself.

Stanislo had been an unwilling slave and even though eating the scroll had been
the only way to send it through the portal inside him, it hadn't worked out as
she had planed. The stupid portal had collapsed inside him, taking most of his
insides with it, along with the scroll. She knew it was somewhere within the
Caves, but exactly where was a mystery as in the final moments she had been
unable to control the spell fully.

'NO MATTER' she said loudly 'I am free ! FREE. HA HA HA......' she laughed
uncontrollably.

**

Jacinta lay in the healing tent, one of the brother's bent over her tending the
wound in her side when it happened.

The voices in her head began, she saw the Room of Bones, Simorp and heard her,
saw her, and felt her. Yet Simorp was unaware of it all.
Inside her mind Jacinta looked round the tombs, through the walls and into the
deep cavernous rooms that clung festooned around tomb rooms like grapes around a
vine.

Seeing inside them she knew this was not her thoughts but Simorps, she knew
things Simorp knew.
Then it struck, deep within the child who's growth had been altered by Simorp
moved, its neural pathways forming, were altered forever, bent by the forces at
work within her. The child was marked forever, its mind now forever on the path
of Magic.

And Jacinta ? She too was changed, she knew Simorps secret, how to tap into
others and take the essential essence within them, manipulate it, change it,
drain it, replace it. All the secrets that lay within the touched mind of Simorp
now lay within Jacintas, some berried, some never to surface, some ready and
overwhelming.

The cost was terrible, she trembled as wave upon wave of nausea overwhelmed her,
then another mind touched hers, a gentle mind, a helpful mind, a humble mind, a
mind bent on healing and mercy.

The Abbot stood over Jacinta and sensed the turmoil within, leaning forward he
began to pray and minister to her. Brother Nikko too sensed the turmoil and
whispered in the Abbots.

The Abbot nodded and Brother Nikko withdrew the sleep potion from his backpack,
gently breaking it over her lips, the 'Sleep of Reason & Peace' potion took
effect immediately.

**

The Tombs were bare and Simorp wandered thought her damaged realm, the
destruction was uncountable and her journey finally made its way to the Room of
Scrolls, entering she noticed that most were missing and the taint of Graylors
smell was pungent in the rooms.
'SO HE HAD BETRAYED HER ! He had taken her most prised possessions, 300 years of
scrolls.'

In her mind she devised torches for him, yet those above where the main enemy,
he would wait till they were dealt with, after all they were the cause of all
this trouble, without them she would now rule the world !.'

**

The Camp was in morning and the reports had reached Firebrand as he stood, near
the dead warriors counting their losses.

The Princess was weeping near her dead; Doromond had returned form the rear gate
helping the Orc, telling a tale of heroism and honour that would need to be
recorded.

Firebrand looked around, the Zeppelin (pre briefed) circling overhead guarding
the camp from surprise, the dwarf, elf, Halflings survivors, the party and
decided.

'The cost has been high my friends. We have lost many companions and brave
adventures in this quest, but still the job remains incomplete.'
'IE' came the reply from all
'We must finish the author of this diaster, She must be destroyed before she
infects us all with her death, her darkness'
'IE !!' came the shout
'WHO WILL COME WITH ME INTO HER REALM ? Who will come and destroy this menace,
enter the very jaws of hell and destroy the monster below ? WHO ?'
The shout form the assembled defined him momentarily. He had his force; it was
time to finish it.

SIMORP DISCOVERS SOMETHING

Simorp was rummaging through the scrolls looking for what was left when she
found the portal scroll, packing it into the now bulging pouch tied to her waist
she exited the room and made her way back to the dungeon below.
Walking past the cells she noticed that all her prime prisoners were dead form
the misuse she had inflicted upon them, so continuing down she eventually cam
upon a hapless Halflings and dwarf that lay in their own mess, almost dead from
maltreatment. Entering she grabbed them both, bound their speech, the arms and
kicking them forward she return to her room of power.

The Room of Bones was almost deserted accept for the Umberhulk and the Swamp
thing that guarded her doors. Tying one prisoner to the base of the alter she
dragged the other kicking and screaming,(Well he would have been if he could
have been), she quickly spread the remaining scrolls out over main area binding
her last captive on top of them. Once in place she cursed herself that she had
used the traitors two quickley, they would certainly have been better for this
task than her current offering.

Tossing that thought aside like week old bread she began to chant. Her voice
spoke words never heard in 300 years, slowly rising to a crescendo of power when
she cut the first prisoner, her blood spilling over the scrolls, being lapped up
by the parched paper, rolling like a ball over it, leaving red marks like veins
all over her most prized possessions.

THE DARKNESS BEGAN.
She continued, slowly the darkness lifted and was replaced by a ball of
blackness that congealed over her head menacingly. She cut the second prisoner,
his blood dropping into the indentation that circled the alter mixing with the
dirt and blood of ages post it congealed. She sang louder, her prisoners almost
dead she delivered the final stroke and then cut her own bony hands profusely,
dipping them into the remains of her victims.

THE DARKNESS COELESSED.

She reached up her hands and grasped it with all her might, taking it she
grabbed the scrolls and somehow bound the two together. Once done the scrolls
were almost invisible within the darkness that surrounded them.
Taking the first scroll she read it.
Instantly a portal appeared, through which the camp and its surrounds could be
see.

Taking the second scroll she read it.

Instantly clouds appeared over the camp and day became night

Taking the third scroll she read it.

The bones of the dead rose.

She stepped through the portal and read the forth scroll.

She was nowhere to be seen, darkness surrounded her and her troops, a pall of
impenetrable blackness, a shield of evil descended just outside the camp.

Above the Zeppelins captain swore as all his Technology once again surcome to a
Magic force below, desperate he ordered landing in the breach at the rear of the
camp, at least there it would do some good.

**

GHENT REMEMERANCES

"The Tribus were a group of Elves expanding a small empire. At the time that
they encountered the technological civilization on Patrya, they were prepared to
fight for and defend their holdings. This proved to be the cause of great strife
and struggle between these two civilizations.
"Polar though they were, it is conceivable that they might have lived in peace.
Indeed, when the first emissaries of the Tribus met with inhabitants of Patrya,
it was with the greatest concern and for the good of the Elves that they were
kept from the central parts of the island. The Elves, Magickally inclined and
based as they were, would have found the cities and mechanical workings of
Patrya to be causes of extreme discomfort and, possibly, physical illness.
Still, the gap between Magick and technology resulted in the first rift between
the Tribus and Patrya. The telling blows were struck by the Black Wind.
"The Black Wind, as it was known, came to be notorious in both Patrya and the
holdings of the Tribus. To the Patryans, it was a group of Magickal extremists
whose goal it was to destroy Patrya and all for which it had fought. To the
Tribus, it was an aggressive group of cruel, unscrupulous technologists whose
primitive human urge it was to lash out and destroy what it did not understand.
"To this day, we do not know who or what the Black Wind really was. We doubt
that the Tribus know, either.
"In any case, misunderstandings twisted towards violence, and eventually fear
built up in Patrya to such an extent that it cut off all communications with the
mainland. Soon, a militant camp took control of local government, and though, in
our hearts, we knew we would not be able to back any sort of full-scale campaign
for long, we prepared for conflict.
"For war.
"Our greatest advantage came from the sheer gap between the Magick of the Elves
and our own technology. So immersed in technology were we that it permeated our
lives to such an extent that the presence of a fully-armed soldier caused weak
Elf mages to falter in their spell-casting.
"Indeed, our greatest triumph; and, in sooth, one of the great causes of our
destruction; came from me. I discovered that it was possible to infuse objects
and ambient areas with extreme technological aptitudes using a method similar in
principle and design to electroplating. Some of us felt that this was extreme;
others, like myself, felt that we had to do what we could to survive.
"Others went even further. One, my own student Ghent, felt it was necessary to
expand this technological presence into the very essence of our own flesh.
"I think of Ghent often now. I wonder what became of him."
-- Vater Hugh, Writings for Posterity -- Patrya in Exile

**
Sitting alone, as he did often (too often) in these trouble times, Ghent once
again crumpled pages of writing that lay before him. It was (too) difficult,and
yet theory said that it had to be true.
In the harsh light of an electric bulb the shadows and angles of Ghent's face
were thrown out of proportion and gave him a hawkish, hollow, and hungry look.
Sitting and gazing into the bulb, not thinking for a blessed second, he heard
noise in the room behind him.
Spinning to look, he grabbed a multi-shot pistol off of his desk and squinted
into the shadows that leered amongst glass vessels and other pieces of lab
equipment, willing his eyes to adjust to the deepest darkness, that he could
penetrate it and find what was hiding.
There were no rats this high in the tower. There were no other vermin. Though
Ghent did not know the reason, there was very little life in his laboratory. It
was someone human who had come up here. Still, he had demanded peace and no
interruption, and he had been granted it
(until now).
Ghent gazed into the shadows, trying to find who had entered. They had not made
their presence known; rather, it was as though someone were here to spy, or
perhaps to
(set a trap). Too late in beginning to realize what was going on, Ghent began to
turn around when he felt a breath of air behind him. A single hand clamped down
upon his shoulder, and a single figure rushed up behind him. It gave a
(feminine?) gasp of either surprise or pain, but quickly there was a sting in
Ghent's neck and then he knew no more.
It was difficult to awaken. Ghent slogged through alternating waves lethargy and
dull, throbbing pain in the head, but eventually he opened his eyes. He knew
what had happened. He had been targeted by he Tribus; perhaps it was one of the
cursed Black Wind, who were reputed to be immune to the technology sickness that
affected other Elves, especially in this laboratory. And, ever since his
(experiment) one should not even be able to tolerate his presence for long.
Looking around, Ghent saw not the confines of a prison cell but, rather, the
familiar confines of his own laboratory. Beginning with a scan of the immediate
area, he saw the reason for his failure to depart the grounds: nearby there was
a puddle of vomit. Next to it was a single lone, huddled figure which appeared
to be unconscious. Ghent arose to approach him, ready to bring him to
questioning and then to a merciful end, but he found his legs unfamiliar and
heavy. He stumbled to the floor and grimaced as an ankle bent the wrong way.
Can't walk... that was something powerful that I was given. Blockage of motor
skills, most certainly; however, it leaves thought unfettered. Seems something
like what I would have designed or used.
Suddenly, the grimace became a grin. Ghent's hand was still tightly gripping the
pistol he had grabbed before he was drugged. Still, I bet I can shoot. It's
short range from here. Aim to incapacitate... both legs...
Then, the figure gave a groan and unfolded itself. This was the spy. Hurriedly,
Ghent raised the pistol and prepared to shoot
Her?
The Elven figure was not male, and it did not seem Elven at all. She had dark
red hair and pointed ears, but her frame was too stocky to be purely...
Ah.
"So, you're a half-breed, are you?" Ghent asked.
The failed kidnapper turned to look at him. "Yes." The expression on her face
and her voice seemed to come through a haze of pain. "A true one... of our
number... could never survive up here. And you..."
Her voice trailed off.
Ghent smiled broadly. The experiment had been a success! Here he was, technology
incarnate. And invincible to Magick, too. But still... he rubbed the side of his
neck.
The half-elf smiled at him grimly. "It was something technological. Don't think
you've beaten Magick; we just can't spare a mage of the caliber to come up here
and face you. Plus, you would have noticed much too quickly, as your devices
would have failed."
Something tech-
"So, you are Tribus. One of the terrorists."
"No. You both have misidentified us."
The half-elf grinned again, this time almost overcoming the physical discomfort
of being in a laboratory.
"Don't look so shocked. We just believe that... no extremes should exist. Call
it something philosophical, if you will. Now, as I have failed, there is nothing
left for me but death. I have wondered what it would be like to be-"
" Don't waste your breath on it." Ghent gingerly got to his feet, keeping the
pistol trained on the fallen figure.
"I want information. I want it now. Let's start with your name."
The half-elf again smiled, this time almost sneering. She said nothing.
It would be almost thirty minutes that he would leave her in proximity to
several large electrical generators before she told him.
"Her name was Amberle."

BACK IN THE PRESENT...
THEN TO ANOTHER FLASHBACK

Ghent walked, not away from the scene of battle but rather towards it. He
couldn't let Simorp die without getting information from her. Only she knew what
he wanted. The power she had given him had been a distraction.
Walking, he allowed his mind to clear and then to wander. As it was wont to do,
it wandered to Amberle.

When had he realized that he loved her?
He hadn't tortured her; that would not have done from the outset. Even leaving
her in the fields of Technology had caused her such pain that Ghent had sworn to
himself never to harm another woman. Truly, his upbringing in Patrya, while
allowing him the most callous treatment of his elders and those whom he should
have respected, had taught civility to the fairer sex.
Ghent wouldn't have thought of her as one of the weaker sex. Not after seeing
what she went through and then watching her deny all questions.

It was after he began treating her well - allowing her to stay in a small,
unused basement room that he converted into a cell away from the technology, in
secret, and giving her food and water, that she began to say small things.
Why had he done it in secret? For the prestige, of course. Singlehandedly taking
and interrogating a prisoner was no small thing.
At least, that's what he told himself then.

She was not much older than he; Ghent was young for his success on Patrya, and
Amberle hadn't been given much choice in serving the Black Wind -- better known
amongst its members as the Trai'shan, a name that meant something with balance
or order in some ancient tongue.
It was a strange combination of a philosophical order and a militant group.
Still, after Amberle's parents were killed during an espionage action amongst
the Tribus, she had nothing to which to adhere except for the tenets of her
order.

After a time, Ghent began almost to pity her. For the first time in a short
life, he sympathized with her. Alone and bereft of hope, she told him of what
had become of her, and, after time, he told her of himself.
It was then that he began to love her. Yes, it was then.

It was also then that he began to turn to the greater world with eyes more
widely opened than in the past. He saw the fear, the anguish, and, above all,
the stupidity and lack of necessity for it all.

Still, it was too late. The Trai'Shan had gotten what it wanted: warfare between
the two extreme groups, one of Magick and one of technology. Soon mutual
destruction would follow.

It was shortly thereafter that Ghent had turned from devices and inventions of
war to, briefly, those of study and discovery, and finally to that which he
hoped, however unreasonably, would unify the warring races: the Magick engine.
Amberle had inspired it. He could never truly be near her, for the pain it
caused her was impossible for him to bear. Still, she had given him something.
That was hope. Hope for himself, hope for the future of both the Tribus and
Patrya, and he gave back.

He gave his love, a sacred trust that he had feared to let go to anyone else.

That's it for Ghent's past for now... I know that the connection between him and
Amberle isn't all that great plotwise, but if people want more or even have
suggestions, please let me know.

IN THE CAMP

"WHO WILL COME WITH ME INTO HER REALM ?
Who will come and destroy this menace, enter the very jaws of hell and destroy
the monster below?
WHO?"

Ghent heard shouts ahead. Fearing madness might have returned, he held back
until he saw, faintly, a group of people. They were not phantoms. They were
real.
Welcome back to the real world.
He was sane again, and on some fundamental level he knew this to be true.
Whatever it was that Graylor and Simorp had done to him was in the past. Time to
push towards the future and the truth.
Pushing forward on his modified staff, checking various accoutrements that had
stayed with him through his plunge into insanity, Ghent walked, tall and
unafraid, towards the group. He called,
"I will."
He strode into the massive crowd around Firebrand and bowed.
"I, Ghent du Lac, last survivor of Patrya, do offer my services towards the
destruction of that foul creature."
Several of the more Magickally inclined near him blanched at his presence,
though their discomfort did not seem as bad as it could have been.
Ghent frowned. This was something new. Had his field weakend? Or was it
controllable?
It was of no matter.
He looked up at Firebrand and awaited an answer.

**

'WELCOME FRIEND' he said 'WELCOME.'

'SOON dear friends we must enter that hell, yet before we do we must tend to our
wounded and repair the breaches. Come let us hurry, time is of the essence.'
The crowd thinned leaving Firebrand looking over the figure before him, noticing
his cloths Renor motioned him into the main tent. Once inside he invited him to
sit and reaching into his pack withdrew a small healing potion, some cloths and
his tool set.
Ghents eyes widened at the site of the tools, it was one of the finest
collection,(apart form his own), that he had seen in years. The mill house mark
on some of the smallest tools made him start, he extended his hand hesitantly
and was handed the tool as Renor finished adjusting the healing jacket for
Ghents physique.
Examining it he noticed the tool marks of Firebrand, Westsmith and Hugh, his
eyes light.
scratch - 04:51pm Apr 15, 2001 PST (19.) Mark Delete Reply
The Darkness descended. Ghent looked out of the command tent and new he
recognised the figure that (only for a moment) stood on the fields of gore,
before the darkness took it away.

*

Monti's body lay in the healing tent, the stab wound still running blood,
Jacinta lay beside him still within her dream world, having not yet realised
that what she saw was inside Simorp's mind.
Firebrand grimaced and began to shout orders like one in authority, Ghent had
trouble with that, but since none of them were directed at him he stayed.
Firebrand dumped a primitive Arachnid into his lap and ran out the door.
Ghent examined it, 'Not bad' he thought, 'But if I add...'' his mind began to
work overtime on just what could be done.

*

SIMORP had had enough, she censed over 4 Mages I the enemy camp and knew that
this would be a tough battle, she urged her troops forward ad the broke against
to front.
Princess cast temporal fugit, and summoned a Daemon.
Simorp Cast dispel and the temporal fugit unravelled, then called for her own
daemon.
They began to fight.
Simorp drew forth a scroll of Polymorph and the enemy began to turn into sheep,
rippling out from the centre of her power.
Princess cast reflective shield and then Dominate will, turning the leading
forces into her unwilling slaves.
Simorp drew forth a scroll of disintegrate and began to read.
THE BATTLE WAS NOT GOING WELL !

BEFORE SIMORPS SHOWS HER SELF ON THE SURFACE

Hamfast was skulking round the healing tent when his uncle Oxo found him.
Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck he brought him up short.
'I've been looking for you lad' he said 'I have a job for you'
Hamfast looked worried, with all that was happening, Monti's death, Jacinta's
return and then injury, the news that Scratch was still missing and Doromond
news of the back gate, he could think of nothing good that his uncle would want.
'Lad' said Oxo ' I want you to go with 3 dwarf regulars that Renor has offered,
head out of the camp to the original entrance to the tombs and scout the old
workings there.'
'Uncle ?' asked Hamfast questioningly
'Lad.' Said his uncle patting him on the back lightly 'There's more than one way
to skin a cat you know !'
With that Hamfast was dismissed.
Three stout dwarf regulars appeared and as Hamfast examined them he saw the grim
determination on their faces.
'You Hamfast ? ' said the one carrying a large hand axe encrusted with gold
spiral motive
'Yes'
'Good ! Renor said you knew what he wanted ! You ready ?'
'Yes'
'Renor said you were in charge, but bid me tell you this. Not everything of
value is left in the open, and remember our first trip.
That make sense to you ?'

'Yes and no I'm afraid' replied Hamfast honestly

'Thought as much' said the dwarf quickly 'He said that you'd say that !'
Hamfast was puzzled, he knew what the reference to 'Not every thing of value is
left in the open' meant and he also thought he knew what Dr Firebrand had meant
by 'Remember our first trip', but together they made little scene.

The first lesson had been taught well by Perinio on there journey home, apart
from the Stealth and Tracking training Firebrand has shown them traps and
devices, that coupled with his uncles training had shown him that not everything
of value lay in the open, in fact most times what lay in the open was a Trap,
designed to mislead the viewer.

The second lesson had been learned to, it of course had to do with his impulsive
actions regarding the weapon he now proudly owned. He had not know at the time
that Scratch had personally covered his theft of the parts form the business,
nor that that cost was to be deducted from his wages, but he had found out, but
the real surprise was that neither Scratch nor his fellow party members had held
any enmity towards him, in fact they had rallied round him after he had realised
his stupidity.

But what had this to do with their current situation ?

JUST BEFORE SIMORP APPERAS

Hamfast and the dwarfs entered the cavern unexpectedly and caught the 6 kites
hiding there, feasting on the remains of something.

Hamfast shot the first through the head before it had a chance to warn the
others, the dwarfs axes glinted against the lamp light as they hewed into the
enemy before they were aware, the battle was over in mere seconds and searching
the corpses proved useful as it turn out they had been eating an elf.

They berried the body with respect and then, warily went thought the rooms till
the reached the rear wall.

Examining it Hamfast saw nothing that was unusual.

*

(HALF AN HOUR AFTER HAMFAST WAS SENT ON HIS MISSION)

Simorp was winning, the darkness and her scrolls making the difference between
the camp and her forces. The undead had managed to build a wall of corpses near
the front gate that was enabling her remaining forces to scale the defences.
She finished reading the disintegration spell and unleashed its force against
the dwarf guards that stood in her way.

*

(CURRENT TIME)

Hamfast was worried; he still hadn't worked out what he was to do and the
caverns where now clean of enemy units. He had found the rear entrance and where
the water had entered the caverns, but that would never be able to be used, it
was just to small for the type of use that was expected.
As they once again searched the caverns it came upon him.

*
Renor took council, and then issued the orders.

'Fall back, let her enter the camp. Then close of her escape that way we will
have no one behind us.'

Oro looked puzzled. 'Why have you withheld the Mages ?'

Renor looked over at Oro and motioned to Jacinta who had recently returned form
the Healing tent.
'She will explain' he said as he continued to plan Simorp's destruction
Jacinta sat down heavily in the support chair, Oro looked at he waiting
expectantly.

Suddenly he knew, his mind was filled with small pieces of knowledge that he
knew he had never known before, he saw the room of bones, Simorps escape, the
room of scrolls, what she had taken.

He knew every scroll she had in her possession and knew that Renor was right,
they could not afford her open space.

*

Ghent finished making the adjustments to the Arachnoid that Renor had
absentmindedly thrown his way, its spines now delivered neurotoxins, its back
was armoured and its control mechanism was now more responsive.
He wondered what he should do next.
She entered the camp covered in darkness, her forces rolling back the defenders.

Simorp knows more about Patrya than a Lich in this part of the world should,
Ghent mused.

Is it time to re-equip and try to ask her some questions?
Graylor poses the greatest threat.
Ghent stood up and examined the equipment given to him. It was impressive,
but...
He sat back down on the bed and took out his tools again.
Things could wait at least a few minutes longer...
scratch - 07:19pm Apr 19, 2001 PST (23.) Mark Delete Reply
Simorp is ready to strike at the heart of the camp
Hamfast sat in the dust examining his thoughts; the dwarfs were restless,
wanting to know why he delayed.
Hamfast thought back to the first journey and compared his remembrance with the
current reality of the caves. He knew something was different, yet couldn't
quite put his finger on it.

*

She was ready, her plans had come to fruition, soon she would be rid of these
petty annoyances, then, then she would rebuild and take her rightful place as
ruler of this world.
Her armies swept into the camp, (well what remained of them anyway). They met
little resistance and that gave here more confidence that she was on the edge of
victory.

The counter attack had been timed just right, her troops where in its maul when
they stuck, Doromond followed by 20 Elf and dwarf warriors closed the rear
silently, Jim, Tim and Firebrand signalled to their various hidden arches and
the rain of arrows began. The princess Oro, Oxo and Jacinta began the defence of
the camp from the front, Oxo detonated the hidden explosives, Oro, Princess and
Jacinta began to cast various spell.

*

Simorp shuddered, HOW dare they attack her NOW, JUST when victory was within her
grasp.
She grabbed another scroll and began to read.

HAMFAST REMEMBERED !!

HE KNEW WHAT FRIEBRAND HAD MEANT !

HE KNEW WHAT HE HAD BEEN SENT HERE TO DO!

CURRENT TIME:

Hamfast rushed into the main corridor and make his way hurriedly towards the
room where he had been tortured; the dwarfs followed somewhat at a loss to
explain this new activity.

As he entered the room he gazed upon the mosaic and wall where he had hung,
motioning the dwarf engineers toward s the wall he said.
'That's it, what Firebrand meant.' The dwarfs looked strangely at him so he
continued 'Yes I know it seams strange but I just realised, the first time I was
here, this room did not exist, then when I was tortured I seamed to be in this
room, but when we examined the room after that, we found no trace of that event.

Look it all points to that mosaics, this room being some sort of magical energy
container. Now if I understand what Firebrand said to me, he meant that
sometimes things of value are hidden in plain site, and this constitutes a thing
of value to a Mage, so the obvious answer is to deny the mage this prise.'

Understanding came into the dwarfs eyes and they set about their task with
relish, setting the fuse for about a minute they lit it and in a group left
their caverns in a hurry, stumbling as they went, upon the forces that SIMORP
had sent round the back to attack the still just grounded zeppelin.

THE zeppelins captain was livid, he had told his officers to prepare the Magic
shield and deploy all necessary defences hours ago, but the battle below had
distracted them from their task as they had attempted to help their stricken
comrades below. They raced around implementing the protocols that they had
trained for so long and hard, realising that their captain was going to have
words with them when they exited this situation.

That they saw there predicament was obvious, that on land they where like a
beached leviathan, was also obvious, that they were sitting ducks was also
obvious. The problem was that like all things time, sometimes and be on your
side, or not, as they case may be.

(Lets get down to it, if it hadn't been for Hamfasts little group the outcome
would have been other than I can now relay.)
It was there emergence form the caverns and the following explosion which
allowed the Zeppelin to escape the worst damage and make it aloft with only
minor damage to the rear lifters and one of the engines.

*

The explosion rocked the camp and the top of the caverns blew off in an
explosion that felt like tremors in the little towns that lay anywhere within
100 miles of the site.
If the explosion had been wholly Tech in nature then I doubt that many would
have survived, but mostly the explosion was concentrated magic, mixed with a
small dose of tech, as such the usual debris that would have fallen on our
intrepid explorers was vaporised as it when up, and nothing, accept what
remained in the upper levels of gold and sliver and bones and such, came down.

*

The ground shook like a leaf toppling the unsteady undead off their feet and
knocking over the container of powder and other healing medications in the tent
where Brother Nikko and the abbot worked feverously to save lives.

SIMORP fell, the darkness around her dissipated as the last one of her mainstays
of power disintegrated into nothingness.
SHE HAD BEEN BETRAYED.
'GRAYLOR !' she shouted as she realised that for ages he had been storing
energies somewhere.

**

Graylor was miles away and hovering, waiting for his plans to come to fruition.
HE now had the original scroll, the last was a tick he had used on Simorp, with
the little power reserve that he had tapped from her and stored in his room,
leaving it there in case he needed it again.

Fool, he had controlled her for ages and she had been unaware, only one thing
was lacking, and he regretted that he had been unable to achieve that, and that
was her power to take from others, that and the knowledge of reading the scroll
was all that he had not obtained from her foolishness.

He felt the power base collapse and knew she was finished. 'Good, one less fool
in the world' he thought as he headed off into the wilderness.

***

Simorp screamed.

Suddenly she felt drained, lacking, she faltered and fell, the darkness around
her faded and for the first time in centuries she beheld the sun.
Within the camp the explosion rippled through the ground like a worm beneath the
surface, Firebrand readied the troops, the zeppelin floated free and began its
task of attacking the ground troops behind, the darkness vanished and the
remaining troops saw their enemy for the first time since the campaign began.

Shrieks of horror mixed with relief drifted through the air as the sight of
Simorp shook the camp.

Her main stay gone, her power base destroyed, she realised, she had been
deluded, led astray, and Graylor was behind most of it.

'THAT WORM, THAT, THAT ...' words failed to come to her mouth that were capable
of describing his actions. Unfortunately that was about the last thing she ever
thought for some time.
Her form a clear target, the zeppelin made its run, followed quickly by the
Elfin arches who rained tier after tier of arrows.

THE ARROWS BEGAN TO FALL, Simorp grabbed another scroll and began to read.
Time slowed, the defenders troops slowed and Simorps troops seamed to be in
double-time.

Jacinta ran to the healing tent, looking for her need, she spied Montis body,
spoke to the abbot and watched his face fall in disbelief as she explained what
she wanted to do.

Simorp rallied and devoured the energy of two of her troops in front of her,
gaining some relief from the agony of the sun.

Time began to speed up again and Simorps troops where on the loosing end
finally, the hail of arrows having taken their tole, the defenders moral began
to rise.

***

Standing where forest met scrubland, Ghent stared into the humongous melee. What
seemed to be two titans grappled against each other; dust rose from the ground,
obscuring much from sight, and all that was certain was that there was violence,
and things were dying.

Lots of things.

Ghent put on a pair of strangely-shaped spectacles and scanned the battlefield
for a familiar and hated figure. Where was...?

There.

A single figure that might have been backing troops was staggering backwards as
she began to run out of endurance. Without the Magick engine and based upon what
was known about her power reserves, Ghent felt that the time was ripe.
Reaching into a large, broad-leafed bush nearby, Ghent removed several large,
heavy packages. When he placed them on the ground and applied a lighted match to
certain parts, they unfolded into a pair of armor-plated spiders.
Ghent nodded and smiled into the fray. Below were the answers he sought.
He took from the bush a single staff which had at either end a catchment arc.
Placing a chemical cell into the center, he looked down at it.
It is time, Simorp , he thought. It is time. What dark powers do you serve? Will
they save you now?

Then he moved into the fray, making sure that the two dumb sentinels merely
followed him and did not attack. Only able to sense movement, the two spiders
shambled off behind Ghent.

scratch - 06:28pm Apr 26, 2001 PST (27.) Mark Delete Reply
Simorp was almost helpless; her forces almost in route when Jacintas spell came
about.

Monti's body began to warm, his muscles relaxed, his parts began to regenerate
and the wound in his side closed magically.

Jacinta, deep in concentration was protected by 6 dwarf warriors, the princess
and a bevy of Halflings troops that surrounded the tent and its nearby
companions.

Simorp began to feel pain, her inner soul, what made her sane, what had survived
becoming a LICH was being touched by an unknown force.

SHE SCREAMED IN PAIN, HER WILL FAULTERED, but suddenly recovered as the pain
vanished.

Jacinta spoke words unknown for ages, spoke words that only SIMORP had known,
she did not know what she spoke, only that it was something that would do her
bidding.

Monti's body was reacting as blood began to flow once again thought the veins.
The heart was not working it was just that the forces at work within the body
that had been Monti's was preparing for what was about to happen.

SIMORP COLLAPED. Her forces redoubled their efforts.

SIMORP realised that something had been taken from deep within her, something
she had once taken with force from another, something that Stanislo had taken
with the knife.

The life force that SIMORP had stolen lay within her grasp, she examined the
body, looking thought eyes no human had a right to look through. She saw a minor
defect in his heart, corrected it and moved on.

SIMORP SCREAMED AGAIN !!!

MONTI WOKE, HIS BODY WOKE, his mind lay dormant as the functions for life re-
established themselves.

The power within Jacinta reach out, touched the mind, gently, caressingly, spoke
to it, told it what had happened, filled in the gaps, explained what it needed
to know to survive what was to happen next.

LIGHT SHONE INTO THE TENT, bright, unnatural, it touch all who where within,
they stood in awe as it centred on Monti and suddenly disappeared into him. His
body jerked, shuddered, gasped for air, then sat up screaming, the same scream
that Simorp was screaming.

Together as one they screamed and together as one they stopped, she collapsed
onto the ground, reached for more troops to steal life from and just survived.
He awoke in pain, his body crying out in agony as the pain of life revisited a
tired mind. He survived but would never be quite the same as he was before, a
little more careful, a little more quiet, reflective and a little more powerful
than he had been before curtesy of Simorp.

Jacinta collapsed knowing that without Simorp and what she had done before, that
this would have be impossible.
Others in the party would never ask how it was done and the Abbot would never
discuss what had been said to him, but some knew, or at least thought they knew
and unfortunately GRAYLOR was one of them.
Fortunately Jacinta was beyond his reach and even if she had been, what she had
done was beyond his power without what lay within her, her child.

MONTI WOKE, his screams reached his ears and he began to breath through the
pain.

IN THE HEALING TENT

Her pain mingled with his as Jacinta felt what the returning Monti felt,
bitterness, anger and frustration (it had been so quiet and peaceful there,
wherever their was), but reaching into his mind she showed him the need, the
current situation, why he should return, his friends loss, their sadness.

HE SCREAMED AGAIN, the Abbot stood about to intervene, this was NOT what he had
expected and was certainly bordering on a place he never would want to go. He
stepped forward ready to intervene, raised his staff and was about to break the
spell when Jacinta slumped forward, Monti breathed and the screams from outside
the cam began.

Jacinta recovered first, look up at the Abbot who (along with Brother Nikko)
were ministering to Monti and herself, motioned to the Abbot and spoke.
'It had to be done now before Simorp was destroyed, without her it was
impossible'. The Abbot nodded.

'She had taken some of his essence when Stanislo killed him, that's why the
resurrection spell failed, that's why only this ritual would work. I had to take
back that part she took otherwise he would never be truly Monti.'
The Abbot once again nodded, he knew what she had done, knew that without Simorp
it would have been impossible, yet wondered if Monti would appreciate it all.

Jacinta rose, the healing balm swathed the cuts on her back, Monti breathed and
the light in his eyes returned as intelligence once again resurfaced.
Outside the tent the armies continued to fight, the potions were all used up,
the mages exhausted, Simorp only had one major scroll left and was saving it
till she could destroy her enemies main strength.

Ammunition in the camp was becoming scares, bodies piled upon each other and the
dwarfs would talk about this battle for ages, calling it 'THE BATTLE OF THE
PLAINS', medals would be struck for those that survived and all would be
honoured for their part, but at present the survival of the camp was in
question.

The arachnids where out there, along with the decoys and other devices that
remained from Firebrands stores.

The afternoon began and the living dead rose again as Simorp once again summoned
the dead back from the bring, their were fewer this time, and her armies were
diminishing, but she now had the front gates down and the resistance inside was
weakening.

THE BATTLES ALMOST ENDS

Within the camp the defenders battled fiercely to retain their hold on life.
Once again if not for the Zeppelin and her brave crew the battle for the plains
would have turned out different.

Now I'm not saying that without the Zeppelin the companions would have lost the
battle, No rather I'm saying that the casualty list would have reach epic
proportions if the Zeppelins captain had not made the fateful decision to
bombard the fields of the dead that lay beyond the camp, thus denying Simorp her
recruits.

That he had to destroy his own dead as well as the enemies was a decision that
he would have to live with forever, but in hindsight, it proved to be a wise
one.

Simorp was only one Mage and eventually she would tire, even thought she was a
lich there was and always is a limit to the power one individual can wield.
The fact that Simorp was able to draw power from others was self-evident and her
ability to sustain some spells was unbelievable.

What saved the party that day was unexpected, yet unsurprising. As we all know
Technology and Magic are diametrically opposed, yet can affect each other in
strange ways. If we were to say that Simorp was 100% Magic inclined and that
Renor was 100% technically inclined then Perinio would fall in the middle
between the two.

His wounds tended to he re-entered the fray with one object in mind, to end the
slaughter of his companions and friends.

Perino flanked by Oxo, Jim and Hamfast waded through the rear gates, Renor,
Princess, Oro and the remaining defenders redoubled their defence and began to
attack back, flanked by Tanuvein on the right side who had been resting and was
now fully active (so to speak).

Perinio and his group made their way to the rear of HER lines and attacked.
The forces at the front Attacked in a simultaneous manoeuvre.
Perino cut swathes through the forces making room for Oxo and Hamfast to attack
HER.

Weather it was Oxo's shot or Hamfasts that knocked the scroll, and hand that
held it, from Simorp, is unknown as they both fired at the same time.
She turned, screamed with rage raised her remaining hand pointed at them and
spoke. They fired, Perinio attacked, Jim stepped between Simorp and her targets
and was struck in the chest by a fire arrow, followed by a massive push that
knocked the wind out of him for a good few seconds, placing him firmly on his
butt.

Perino reach her outer guards, Hamfast's dagger came from its sheath, Oxo threw
the last grenade he had in his possession and the party dropped to the ground as
the explosion echoed throughout the plains.

The Main group at the front attacked in force, Zeppelin overhead gunning down
any stragglers that were attempting to break through the sidelines.
Simorp was hurt, Not dead, just hurt, she survived just, and here forces were
about to repel the hated enemy. Her resources were almost at an end and the only
remaining thing she could do was thinking about revenge.

DEATH & THE END FOR ALL

(THE WINNER ALWAYS WRITES THE HISTORY)

The battle raged on, more lives were lost and the companions were routed
momentarily, enough to cost Jim his right thumb and forefinger. But the rout
lasted less that Simorp had hoped for Tanuvein was fresh and he wove his spells
with excellence, saving many in the process.

The arachnids were lost in the ensuing melee, but their parts were later
salvaged and reused.

To say much more about the fighting would really be useless, death, wounds, pain
and hurt would be the only words repeated again and again if I were to describe
it in detail, loss of life and agony would be other words I'd use.
Suffice it to say the enemy fought manically, the companions fought bravely
there were losses and pain unending for loved ones.

In the end Simorp's death did not end the fight as her remaining forces only
scattered and had to be cleaned up by the now exhausted victors and the clean up
lasted two more days till thew survivors were sure the surrounding area was
clear enough that travellers could (with caution) pass safely thought the area.
Who eventually killed Simorp and who made the last blow or who actually saw her
death is unknown.

What mattered at the time was that she was dead, the remains of her body, found
with 6 gunshot wounds, numerous sword cuts and fire damage.
Her last moments were broken only by the fact that she is alleged to have said
something to Perinio and Oxo who stood nearby, at her death. Her remains were
burnt and the ashes buried in multiple graves at various locations not only near
their scene but elsewhere.

The catacombs below and surrounding area was fortified by the dwarf remnant and
a smallish town was raised to guard the entrance to the Tomb, for what remained
below would take years to catalogue, clean and make safe.
The Brandlebrant, it preferred the lower levels of its domain and its newfound
freedom there, to the sun above and remained mostly out of the way of the party.

Scratch was found eventually, a prisoner in one of the lower dungeons, it seems
that he had stumbled upon some groundwork's that some trolls had been instructed
to make, to undermine the camp, had been captured, tortured and sent to the
dungeon to await further developments.

The ultimate cost of the campaign was born from the revenue gained from the
treasures within the catacombs and the initial party was awarded the medal of
valour for 'THE BATTLE OF THE PLAINS'.

The surrounding area was scouted and water was found in abundance in the lower
caves, which there after provided all the necessary resources, (fish, treasure,
water) to sustain the small community that thrived above, offering a well earned
break in travel for those venturing over the mountains.
What Simorp said was NOT well recorded and the only persons in the world, who
may know, are tight lipped.

Hamfast and most of the Halflings, except Oro, who volunteered to stay along
with half a dozen others, returned to their homeland in the zeppelin, which was
scheduled for may hours of maintenance and rebuild following its valiant defence
of the companions.

WHAT MUST BE SAID HERE:

Obviously I have not recorded all that took place, some of the reasons is that
the events are still unfolding, the parties involved still live and have been
bound to silence on certain matters.

But mostly there is too much pain and suffering still in my mind over our
losses, I personally having lost over 50 relatives, others more.
Monti, in time fully recovered, (well I'm not really sure of that one,) he now
spends much time with Jacinta and her newborn son, Elisah Tan RIST who exhibits
unnatural skills in certain areas.

Yes I know I've spoke in the past Present and future in relating the final
moments of this tale, there is a reason I spoke like this for I wish to leave
you, my reader, unsure if what I have spoken about is truth, Fiction or fantasy
and wether or not I spin a tale or have related history.

Two reason emerge, first I do not wish to expose my friends (if they are real),
and second WHO WOULD BELIEVE ME !.

Eventually all tales reach an end, unfortunately for you, THIS ONE DOES NOT !!..
There is so much more that I could say, the battles, then fights, the tears, the
suffering, what happened after, who died, who survived, what was in the
catacombs, how long did it take to find Scratch, so much more.

BUT THIS PART OF THE TALE IS COMPLETE..
I may add other parts as the pain diminishes, I doubt it, but I may.
FAREWELL, GOOD LIFE, REMEMBER TRADE IS THE LIFEBLOOD OF THE RICH
Dr RENOR FIREBRAND

The end !!