The Plague Roleplay

Four days had passed and yet not one member of the Watch had seen or felt the touch of the rosy death that was the disease ravaging the land. Hundreds died and more suffered. Talk bespoke rumor and rumor bespoke death. People were buried alive and burned at the stake. Shrieks were heard deeply into the night. Ring around the Rosy was here to stay. And then death had it's day...

The Plague ran deep into the lands, Rats and flies carried it from person to person and some transmitted it. There was no cure, clerics that tried to call upon their healing power fell sick and died moments after they touched the individual. Many cried as their skin blistered and their bodies broke down. Often they cried out to their gods as the plague ravaged their bodies. Over half the land was infected when the first word of the Plague touched Northwind. Connor read the reports and saw the devastation wrought about the land. He called for volunteers to aid him in a new quest, one to find a cure for this plague against man. Perhaps sword and steel would not be enough, but then again, not to try in some manner was cowardice indeed. So throughout the town of Northwind warriors were asked to join LTC McLeod on a quest to stop the Rosy Plague, or die trying.

Kianne walked solitary through the briskly cool air, her feet crunching softly on fallen leaves of previous years past. It felt good to be out here in the wilderness, dressed in her usual chain and cloth, the colors a strange combination of green and purple. She liked the golden trim on her purple tunic, silently denoting her membership in the Royal Black Watch. Ki paused and glanced at the sky. She wasn't far from Northwind now. Although she enjoyed her trek into the wilderness, she also liked being in civilization, although she still did not own a house. Even so, it had been a little while since she'd returned to town, so she was looking forward to it. Her feet picked up again, at a slightly faster pace, carrying her unerringly toward her target. That's when her nose picked up the faint smell of smoke. She stopped instantly, snuffing warily at the air. Was the forest on fire? Quickly she began running toward the smoke, her scabbard jostling against her leg. Finally she came to a clearing where a mound that had clearly once been ablaze was now smoking dimly. She shook her head and slowed to a walk. Not an emergency; someone had just been burning trash. But the stench in the air smelled peculiar, sick. It suddenly became evident why when she came close enough to make out the blackened forms in the mound. "They're bodies!" she gasped, sticking a hand over her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to approach any closer. Instead she whirled about and dashed for Northwind. Someone there must know what had taken place here.

For days the Royal Black Watch endeavored to find a cure for the plague. Regardless of their lives, men went forth to gather the weak and the suffering. But to no avail. Herbalists and Scribes Fell ill and still nothing. Connor was annoyed at his impotence. He knew how to fight a monster or a deamon. But a disease, he had no idea how to combat this. He could not even see it. Who could help, even the clerics seemed beaten back. Where would his answers come from, and how? One thing that he knew for sure is that he did not have much time; people were dying. Too many people, far too many. The day is near and the day will come, while the world not knowing will stand fast at ease. That day should be called "judgment day" and you should know what I speak of or you shall seek for the truth.

The Troupe set out the next morn. Fifteen of the finest warriors of the Royal Black Watch sat astride great steeds, their morning mail shining brightly in the sun. Their kilts were awash with color. Each knew nothing about what they were riding into. Connor rode at the head of the small formation watching with intent eyes. He did not know yet what he would do about this plague but he did know that he would do something. Some had told him of murmurs by a Saint Cursade or something along that line. Perhaps he would be able to locate this Saint, or perhaps he would find Kianne and the others that were already dispatched. So they rode each ready for a fight or ready to render any aid that they could.

In the blackness it watched as the warriors rode out. It had always known that the disease would attract them. Now to move them in its game was the next task.

One of the newest members of the Black Watch was riding through the woods gathering wood and making arrows. Being an archer is a fine thing, but making the supplies could certainly be tedious. Leldorin didn't really mind, though. He enjoyed being in the woods and communing with nature. He enjoyed the solitude, as it gave him time to think. Too much solitude, however, was a bit lonely. After a few days out in the wilderness he began to miss other people and the companionship they brought, so he started back toward town. He had been out of touch for almost a week and had no idea what was going on. As he rode down the road, he saw a group of mounted warriors coming towards him. He recognized a few of them, as they got closer. They were Royal Black Watch, and Connor was riding in the lead. He decided to see if they needed help and veered towards them, intending to offer whatever service they might need.

"There's Trolls about us" Connor said softly. The Captain made his men ready with simple hand signals each man knew what to do. The Ranger simply sat to the side and looked into the wood. Questing for answers hidden in the foliage of the forest itself. It was as the party readied that it happened, a score of soldiers burst from the side of the forest not too far from the party. The Commander began bellowing at the top of his lungs and the troupe wheeled. The snowy lands spun as Connor's horse circled, he watched as the group of strange soldiers plunged into the formation. Samual was undoubtedly one of the most skilled men in the watch when close fighting was involved but as they battle progressed Connor noticed that these men fought with utter abandon. One that attacked Samual appeared totally mad. He hacked and kicked and bullied his way at Samual pushing and flailing with an old worn battleaxe, Samual was forced to retreat giving ground grudgingly step by step. Then the warrior threw his shield aside, took his axe in both hands and began to swing a rapid series of blows at Samuals head. Connor fought his way towards his Captian and his friend, but there were too many. A familiar hammer rose and fell with precision and a slender lass with flowing hair fought beside Connor. But it was not enough. Forced into a last defense Samual grasped his shield with both hands and raised it to protect his head from those massive blows, roaring in triumph the warrior reversed the swing on his axe in mid-stride and swung it not at Samual's head but his body. The brutal axe bit deep into the side of his chest and blood gushed from his mouth and from the dreadful wound in his chest. "For the Watch," he cried weakly falling from his mount. “LADS!! FALL BACK!!!” Connor bellowed. They were outnumbered and under attack. The tears stung Connor's face as he left the body of his friend on the field, but there was nowhere to run. Fifteen against a score, the tide was against them indeed.

As Leldorin neared the band of Watch members, he saw another group of soldiers emerge from the woods and savagely attack his guild-mates. Even though he could plainly see what was going on, he was too far to do much of anything. Instead of trying to run fast enough to attack with his axe, he simply stopped his horse and cocked his heavy crossbow. Looking closely through the sight of the large weapon, he saw one Watch member raise a shield and an enemy soldier felled him with a brutal stroke of his axe. Taking careful aim, Leldorin loosed a single bolt at the enemy warrior. The bolt struck the enemy in the neck, severing the jugular vein and spraying blood all over. The warrior dropped his axe and collapsed. Leldorin quickly recocked the crossbow and took aim at another warrior. As he was taking aim, he faintly heard an order to retreat given to the Watch. The guild members turned as one and tried falling back enough to regroup and form up. As the watch moved back, the enemy soldiers followed closely. Leldorin fired thrice more falling an enemy with every shot, before they moved out of range. The archer quickly loaded his crossbow one more time and spurred his horse towards the site of the battle. The scene was ghastly as he approached, with dead all over. He spotted the man that had fallen by the axe and leaped from his horse to see if he was still alive. As Leldorin approached the fallen man, he could plainly see the horrible wound and knew immediately that the man could not live. He bent down and saw the man was still barely breathing and the breath was bubbling out of the slash in his chest. He was trying to speak, but the blood gurgling in his throat made it hard to understand. "Tell" *cough* "Connor" *gurgle hack* " that... *gurgling wheeze* and Leldorin would forever wonder what the captain wanted him to tell Connor, as the man died without saying it. Standing straight again and surveying the scene, Leldorin saw nothing else alive on the field. He started back to his horse, and then he stopped. There was indeed one left alive on this battlefield. An enemy warrior was struggling to stand, even though half of his left leg and most of his left arm were no longer attached. Leldorin walked over to the soldier, loosening his axe from its sling. With one stroke, Leldorin sent the warriors head flying and bouncing away with a dull dead rattling sound. Only as he watched the head roll to a stop did he think that a prisoner might have been a good idea. Shaking his head at his lack of forethought, he went back to his horse and turned to follow his guild-mates and to see if he could get a prisoner after all.

Cloak pulled this way and that by the winds, the cowl deep about face and neck, the figure moved from the shadows of the trees. Stopping, to crouch for a moment near the tracks. Nodding to self then rising and following. The scent of battle is a strong thing, carrying far to those that know it, pulling those in its thrall closer, oft without heed. But this warrior knew when to move more softly, with caution. Battles call is strong, but unless tamed, is deadly. The warrior halted, a battle indeed, fresh, the blood nae yet finished paying its price to the soil. The damp air was calling a mist, making it hard to see beyond the battle. On silent feet the watcher walked, stepping easily to those lying on the damp and forgiving earth, Eyes of silver grey trailing over them. Crouching down by the still warm corpse of a young man, his chest slashed. Pale fingers touching the blood, and the face, closing over forever sightless eyes.
"Nae blade nor bow does a warrior make" Voice low, oddly regretful. Eyes looking up, seeing the warrior upon a horse, and making to move back from sight, unsure if seen or not, his hand shifting the cloak aside, resting lightly upon sword hilt if needed. The Black Sword Crest emblazoned over the heart of white leathers beneath.

It was still early. The morning chill had not yet lifted from the ground. A gentle breath of air barely stirred the fallen leaves of the mixed forest floor. A lone figure clad in an earthy-colored heavy cloak, hood up, led a squat beige mule along a pea gravel path. The beast, her breath clouding about her, labored against the load of goods her master had bundled across her back. The figure looked over across a meadow as a strange sound echoed in the early morning silence, then stopped to watch when a flash of subdued light produced a large hole in the air. The figure removed its hood to reveal straw-colored hair and pointed ears. The male elf, accustomed to the ways of magic, merely drew his hands up to his hips and waited to see what would appear from the hole. The mule whinnied quietly, nervous. The elf drew closer to the beast and spoke softly into its ear, calming her. His eyes never leaving the hole. A dull wailing sound came from the hole after a short time. The wail grew steadily louder until it became recognizable as the voice of a male human. Like someone falling. Unexpectedly. After a moment more there appeared suddenly a ruddy-haired male human clad in strange garb. He fell flat on his face, dirtying what had appeared to be a clean uniform of some sort. A few expletives later the human stood, rubbing his back and legs. The elf called out in his native tongue, knowing full well that the strange human would not understand him. Sure enough, the dirty one replied in just as foreign a tongue as one might expect. Still, the accent sounded vaguely familiar. He clucked at his mule and the two of them detoured toward the stranger. He held his hands out, open, and empty, to let the human know he meant no harm. The human immediately recognized the gesture and mimicked for a moment. He then finished brushing himself off and straightened what the elf was now sure was a uniform. It, too, seemed vaguely familiar. Strange. When they drew near each other, the elf looked the human over and immediately judged him to be of good character. The eyes never lied. The human stood still for a moment, knowing he was under close inspection. He smiled and extended a hand to the elf. The elf would not be drawn in so carelessly. Caution still ruled the situation. The human withdrew the hand, resigned to waiting for the inspection to be over. The elf noticed many interesting appurtenances on the uniform, but recognized none of them. Then he stopped and stared, disbelieving, at the crest that adorned the shoulder boards of the uniform. It was the symbol of the Royal Black Watch, a mercenary group of noble tradition and fine character, which ruled the lands nearby. Immediately he brightened and turned to lead his mule toward Northwind, gesturing for the human to follow. Behind them the hole closed quietly, humming slightly before fizzling out.

The stink of battle was not something one got over, but for this man's job, it was a necessary evil. The tall, robed figure looked about. The tracks indicated a rout, but there were few dead, and those that were had most of their limbs removed. However, on closer inspection he found one bearing the markings of the Watch. He hated to do this to a comrade, but times were getting desperate.
A few words of power, and a gesture was all that was required. The one known as Samual once again possessed the animation usually associated with life. "UUuuuhh..." "I know you have many questions, my friend. All you need to know is your master. I am Brimstone, and you will come with me..." Stepping fully back into the mists, and the scant shelter offered here, the warrior watched as the corpse, whose unseeing eyes had been closed in peace a moment before, once more gained a semblance of life. Skin beneath leathers cringed as the unthinkable took place. How could anyone disturb the rest of the dead, let alone a warrior? Without thinking, the cloaked warrior stepped forward, hand resting lightly on sword hilt. Even in her families darkest days they had never, to the warrior’s knowledge, disturbed the dead. The black sword crest clearly visible, though little else was, the warrior stepped into the line of sight. The slender hand rested on the hilt, eyes of silver gray watched from under the cowl. The warrior didn’t speak, but stood there in plain view.

Connor rode hard; the horse beneath him was cloaked with sweat and froth, yet still the men gave chase. He did not understand the attack? The lads were from the local militia and yet they rode in chase of the watch? As the chase progressed he had to finally admit that they would have to fight them. There was no other choice. Connor signaled the wheel; each watch member loosed the weapon of his or her choice, the rabble that had been the fleeing the Watch was now a line of warriors, riding into battle. Steel crossed steel and arrows hummed through the air, both watch and militia fell although this time the militia faired far worse indeed, men fell to the ground screaming as their lives were ended. The large man with the axe was cutting a swath thru the watch members as Connor spun his horse and met him. The long sword crossed back and forth weaving a song of death. The axe rang clear of defiance, both men were equally matched and the skills showed. Neither gave any quarter as the battle about them all flowed into background noise. A militiaman sat upon a horse, set a bit back from the hillock, a crossbow in his hand. He drew it back and aimed at Connor's back, the bolt shown brightly in the air. Sword and axe met time and time again, slowly Connor gained the upper hand. But so far the large brute with the axe had proven to be a worthy adversary. And still the battle raged.

As Leldorin crested the hill, he saw a flash of light. Looking a bit more closely he saw that it was the sun reflecting off of a crossbow tip. With a start, he realized that the crossbow was aimed at Lord Connor's back! Quickly he reined in his horse and loaded his own heavy crossbow. Only this weapon would have the range needed. Carefully but quickly he raised the crossbow to his shoulder and sighted it on the bright reflection. Leldorin took a breath, released it. He drew in another and let it halfway out, then held it as he squeezed the release lever. The crossbow let loose with a heavy thud and a sharp twang from the pent up force in the string. The bolt sailed true and took the soldier in the left eye and stopped about halfway out the backside of his helmet. The soldier reflexively pulled his own trigger and since he had been trying to shoot Connor in the first place, the bolt went straight at him. As Connor and his opponent struggled, Connor dodged a down stroke of an axe just as the bolt went past his head and shattered on the axe blade. The archer let out his breath in relief. Such close calls did not make his days easier to get through. He remembered the last time he............
The hiss of feathers slicing through the air at high speed alerted him and he jerked back just as an arrow slid past his nose. Leldorin put his heels to his horse's flanks and leapt ahead. As he rode towards the battle he searched the enemy soldiers to locate the other archer.

Connor reversed his sword driving the huge man with the axe backwards, caught off balance the man stumbled and fell, Connor's blade flashed at his open neck, “now lad lets talk... What are you attacking us for and who are ye?” The Man Spat at Connor's face and spake, “we are all that are left leader of the watch.. Us you have already killed our wives and our children with this damnable plague that you all carry. The land was safe till you all arrived and then we started to die. You have already killed me I just mean to take you with me.” The man flew forward burying his neck to the spin on Connor's sword his dagger lunged into the Rangers stomach. To the hit, “UGH!” Connor stumbled back his hands still clutching his blade as he fell to the ground dazed and stunned. The Dark Elf sat and watched the man on the horse die. The other archer was good indeed, too good to play with. Using her crossbow she set the quarrel and then fired. In one smooth movement she had sighted and fired and then moved. The Quarrel shot forth like a magnet attracted to the other archer. The one who had killed her human counter-part. It struck him mid-shoulder and then transformed into a snake. Its head already buried in his shoulder.

It had been a long hard day in the field and Cirrus was so tired. Melimai his wife was ill that day and he had to take care of her chores. For some reason he just could not remember what they were. He knew that he had to do something but he was not sure what it was; and he was so hot. It was snowing, but to him it felt like the hottest summer day. He stumbled up the porch and into the cabin.. Not even caring that the fire had died within. He sat on his favorite chair as he had done so many days before. Oblivious to the fact that he was dying and that he had buried his wife a few days before the plague. There he sat as his body frosted, he was almost dead, “Melimai, you are so beautiful…” "Lumina!" Kianne stood with her head thrown back, white energy swirling around her as she invoked one of the most difficult Elements to call. Sparkling cyan-white spots of light poured over the figure seated in the chair. Ki had come to the cabin on her way to Northwind to ask the occupants about the mass burning of bodies she had experienced, and had found the man seated alone in front of a cold fireplace. It had taken her only a glance to tell he was severely ill, so her first impulse was to attempt to use healing magic to restore him. But the light settled on him with seemingly no effect. He stirred with a small, content smile, but his body still remained sick. Ki shook her head. "This is something even magic can't combat. I wonder what ails him?" A weak voice rose from the chair. "Melimai, your very presence makes me feel stronger... So glad am I to see you have recovered." Ki blinked at the man, whose frosted eyes clearly were not seeing plainly. “Who was Melimai?” she wondered. She was obviously being mistaken for someone, but in the man's condition, Ki wasn't surprised he couldn't tell who she was. He's going to die. I don't think I can help him. Ki glanced around the cabin and suddenly noticed how cold it was. Quickly she turned and used her magic to send a ball of flame at the cold fireplace, lighting its logs instantly and setting a fire blazing. It barely took off the chill, but the man seemed content. "Sit with me by the fire, Melimai..." Ki felt a knot in her throat, but she walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. "I've built a fire. Sit back and rest." The man tilted his head back and let his eyes close. The magical fire was warmer than a normal blaze, at least until its magical energies died away completely, leaving ordinary flame. Already the man's body was warming, but it wouldn't do anything to save his life. Ki could tell he was ill from something within that could not be cured. "I'm happy...just to have you by my side..." he murmured in a contented voice. A few moments later, he was dead. Ki remained sitting in her chair for many long minutes afterward, gazing into the fireplace as the fire began to die away. She was weary from using her inner magical powers and distressed by what she had experienced here. Certainly, her mere presence had made the man's passing more bearable, but could she settle with the knowledge that she'd sat around and let someone die, no matter how comfortably? Finally she stood and walked toward the door without looking back, her cape swirling about her ankles. The man would need to be buried, but she would be far pressed to handle the job alone. It was time to find help.

Still riding hard, Leldorin quickly ripped the snake from his shoulder before it could do any permanent damage. Pain and confusion racked him as he streaked down the trail. Anger also seared him because he had dropped his favorite heavy crossbow. A fellow Wildantor had made it for him long, long ago, and it was dear to him. He would have to retrieve it soon. First he would have to locate the archer that knew a bit too much about magic to suit him. Ducking behind a small tree grove, he took a second to cast a healing spell for his shoulder. Just to be sure, he also cast another for curing poison. Carefully looking around the area and seeing nothing, he got off his horse and tied him to a tree and began to carefully work his way around to the side of the small grove nearest where the arrow (snake? snarrow?) had come from. As he slowly worked his way around, he began trying to think of who could have done such a thing. Certainly one familiar with archery - that was one heck of a shot. They would also have had to be familiar with magic, and possibly a high order of magic. The magic would most probably have been dark magic with it changing to a snake. That left almost zero suspects. Almost. He increased his care as he began the hunt for the dark elf.

A smile touched the lips of the hunter. Long before this one was born he had been training. Although this human had gall, that was sure. The Dark Elf moved ever so slowly years of practice and the time she had spent hunting her own kind made her impossible to track by human means. She watched the human male with contempt. Again she lifted her bow, she liked to play with her prey. The Arrow slid soundlessly from her crossbow and impaled the human in his calf just below the knee. She had used a normal arrow this time; one he would recognize. It had taken a few moments to adapt it to fit her bow after she had pulled it free from her human friend. She hoped that the irony of the situation would not be lost on the human archer. As he clearly had no idea that she had teleported behind him. Clearly this one was going to be a lot of fun indeed. And oh how he bled so well, Lloth will be pleased.

With a hissed curse, Brimstone saw that he was not alone. He could not recognize the visitor, but the sword narrowed the possibilities quite a bit. "Stay back, enough corpses have been made this day." He did hope the warrior would not attack, for this was the only useful body he could find. He threw aside his cloak, revealing his Stygian plate mail. Well, he thought, the gods have dashed my hopes before.

Leldorin winced as the crossbow bolt slid into his calf. He immediately cursed himself for his carelessness. He should know that when hunting an elf stealth was mandatory. He hid himself completely behind a bush. One thing he had learned in his early days in Arendia was how to properly hide in the woods, so he had no fear of being again ambushed before he was ready. He carefully removed the shaft from his leg and bandaged himself. He recognized the bolt and knew that this was not merely an elf trying to get a human kill, but revenge. He was not sure exactly where or when this elf had gotten his crossbow bolt, but as it had been modified to fit a smaller crossbow, it was obvious the elf was trying to make a point. Fingering the tip of the bolt, Leldorin of Wildantor knew the point was sharp indeed. At least with the size of the shaft he now knew for certain that his opponent was an elf, likely a dark elf. At times like this he truly missed the companions of his youth back in Arendia. Garion would have had fun with this one, that's for sure.
Now, staying well hidden and having his bow at hand, he waited. He knew the elf must have seen him go into this group of bushes, but there was no way he could find him in here. Now he would wait and try to catch a glimpse of the elf that wanted him so badly.

She watched intently as the man slid into the bushes. “Hmm, Now how do deal with this one? I guess he expects me to try to fish him out?” With a evil grin she drew back her crossbow and took out a red tinged bolt. I'll take my human medium or well done I think. The bolt flew from the crossbow impacting into the bushes and other foliage about where the human archer had hidden. The bolt of fire exploded in the dry leaves and tinder. Bursting into flame as a second bolt touched ground and also exploded causing the flames to feed faster and stronger then a normal fire. Ah, flame broiled human.

Connor groaned as he slid the knife from his stomach. His mind was reeling with another kind of pain also, did all the people that he was sworn to protect think that he and his kin had started this plague? They had come to find a cure and just a few miles from the Watch Castle they had been attacked by the very militia that they had trained, and armed. Well at least we gave them good daggers and swords. Melikki bless me this hurts. Connor stood a bit unsteadily and turned to see the small battle going before him. Look a burning bush, we are even setting fire to the land that we are sworn to protect. Connor staggered towards Symphony and slowly began to mount. I must get back into this battle he thought.

Along the road to the fortress town of Northwind, the elf and the human walked side by side, saying little. Each would try to say something in various foreign languages, hoping to find one that the other companion would recognize. It was a futile attempt, but they struggled on in spite of the barriers that lay between them. The red haired human finally resigned himself to just enjoying the walk. He started whistling an old tune, hoping to lighten the atmosphere a bit. The elf screwed his eyes tight, listening to the song. It sounded familiar. It must be a martial tune of the Watch. He wondered just how this human had come to travel here. That portal had been most peculiar. After a day's long journey, they both grew weary and yearned for rest. The elf finally drew the two of them and his mule off the road and unpacked some light camping gear for the evening. A moment later there was a small fire to warm them. The elf produced a small amount of vegetables and they ate quietly. Soon they were lazily resting, approaching sleep. The last rays of sunlight touched the clouds with crimson when they heard it, the sound of battle in the distance. Perhaps their footsteps on the pea-gravel road had masked it before now. But there was no doubt about the sound, and it seemed in the course of a few minutes to be getting closer. Screams and whinnies of horses mixed with the shouting and angry cries of men and women in mortal combat. Swords clanged against armor; hooves pounded the ground. Then smoke began to rise from a fire in the same direction. The elf looked at the human. That one looked eager to see what was happening. The elf was silently wishing he had stayed home today. He looked at his beloved mule and the precious goods it carried. It was much to risk. But if there was fighting this close to Northwind, it meant there was a serious problem brewing. He would need to at least see what was happening so he could report it to his elders at home. The two rose together and, leaving the fire burning low to keep the mule warm, left their little camp behind to investigate the conflict.

A good-sized rabbit sat chewing on forest greens. The hungry soul's insides ached with anticipation of a cooked meal. "No berries for me tonight," he thought licking his lips. He leveled a small hand-made bow on the rabbit. As the ragged human readied a shot red-orange sprung from bushes in the far distance. It almost instantly grew to a dangerous level. The fire over took his vision. He shut his eyes and the fire grew even larger in his mind's eye. A scream came from behind him. It was his sister's. He spun on his heels just in time to see her cut down by a light-skinned, dark-haired man on a horse. His sister, who was a few years younger than him, fell dead. Her blood pooled and started to soak into the ground. Custom Nil looked to his home. The small wooden building he grew up in burned like a funeral pyre. He knew his parents were already dead. "NO!" he screamed to no one but himself, the memory fading from his mind. He ran off towards the fire. "I will not let this happen to anyone else,"

Leldorin sat hidden in the bushes. He had intended for this to be fairly straightforward - just a short wait and a nice conversation with someone to see what the problem was. Now he waited in a grove of bushes that were on fire and spreading rapidly. Did anyone see a problem here? Thinking as fast as he could, he realized there was but one way to deal with this. Knowing that all elves were creatures of honor, even dark ones, he knew he would not be killed outright so he stowed his bow and slowly moved out of the flames. "I have no reason to fight you, Elf. I do not know why you wish to kill me, but I'm sure we can clear this up fairly rapidly. If you could at least tell me why you want me hurt we can go on from there." He stopped a bit away from the fire. At least far enough to keep him from getting burned if the fire spread. He also wondered about any elf that would willingly destroy forest, especially with an uncontrolled fire. He shrugged that thought aside and waited for the elf to respond. Human... You have no idea what I am or who I am but now you will learn. For years we have cowered in fear of the sun. But no more, now you will learn the wrath of the drow and of the spider queen. And that will be a pleasurable experience for me indeed. The small crossbow dart sprung from the string and buried itself into the shoulder of the human who had foolishly stood before a drow elf talking about honor. Now my human friend, notice the strange feeling in your body as the bolt of paralization takes effect... Can you not already feel the poison taking hold? Enjoy the fire.... Hope that it keeps you warm... Leldorin yanked out the arrow, quickly drank a cure and then heal potion. Stung more by the unprovoked and dishonorable attack than the actual shot, he began to grow angry. As everyone knows, elves are deadly with their archery. Not all that many knew that Asturians were born in the woods with bows in their hands as well. Having long ago achieved Grandmaster status with his own bows, Leldorin decided to go on the offensive. If anyone were a match for en elf, it would be an Asturian Arend. The warrior ducked and rolled, coming back up with a drawn bow in hand. He began loosing arrows at the elf while thinking that this was more fun than hunting Mimbrates was. The elf had moved quickly when he started shooting, but had still gotten arrows in the left arm and both legs. This had slowed her down enough to take good aim and loose one last arrow. This arrow wasn't aimed at a vital part of the elf's anatomy, but at her crossbow. The arrow buried itself in the side of her crossbow and severed the trigger lever. He stood back up and said "If you came looking for a fight, you'll have it. Do not, however, think that this will be an easy one. I am at least as well trained in tactics and archery as you are. I was born in the woods and have fought in them all my life, on two separate worlds. I also know swordsmanship and axe-fighting if you would prefer to fight that way, but I am certainly stronger than you and would probably prevail there. I have also been around magic and sorcery and know how to counteract it." He stood for but a second more, then raised his bow to point straight at the elf. "Decide, elf, and let me know how it is to be. I tire of this nonsense."

Custom Nil ran with a drive that burned brighter than the fire he was headed towards. He stopped about one hundred hand-spans from the dying fire. Custom started to creep up on the area with out a sound. Not even a leaf would give up a crunch under the feet of his people. On his approach he heard conversation. Angry rhetoric maybe? He couldn't tell. Then suddenly the voices ended and a crossbow made its own point to the conversation. Two targets. One decision. After the exchange of arrows the stand off began. Custom would wait, hidden.

Kianne smelled smoke and moved more quickly through the trees. “Not another human corpse bonfire,” she moaned to herself, but it was time to get to the bottom of this. Rapidly she ran toward where the stench of smoke was the strongest. When she came close enough to see through the trees into a clearing, what she found wasn't anything that she expected. There seemed to be a battle going on, a fire was raging across the way for seemingly no reason, and near her Connor looked like he was about to fall clean off his horse. Ki dashed nimbly to Connor's mount, reaching out to steady him. "Connor, what in blazes is going on here? Okay, bad choice of words." But then her eyes caught the wound in his body, and she broke off with a gasp. "Connor!?"

“Well now human you have me. I mean why would I, a Dark Elf of Lloth, care if I were burning all the forest down... In fact you right my honor is above reproach...” The arrow flew from the crossbow striking the human archer just below the collarbone. “Interesting how we think you see the paralitic poison is already working its way thru your body much as this fire is beginning to work its way thru this forest. Strange is it not that you shall be here first hand for all the festivities. That is until the flesh boils from your bones. But do not worry the poison will ensure that you survive to enjoy every moment of it. Enjoy human... and send my greeting to hell,” with those last words the Dark elf turned and ran.

"Though I owe no explanation to one such as you, the soul that so recently occupied this body has left, and I have decided I have one more job for it before I leave it to the worms." The undead hulk turned and began to shuffle towards town. "Now if it's a fight you want, you can try the Watch," he indicated the tracks leading from the battle. "But if it's death you seek, come and let me show you..." The warrior's pale hands clenched for a moment on the hilt of the long sword. There was part of her that screamed in rage to see one so defiled, but the mention of the watch seemed more important. Every word that had reached her ears, spoke of the watch being the cause of the plague that swept the lands. And like it or not, that was more important. She nodded curtly, “as long as the Morrigan had already escorted his soul te Anwyn, then ye argument, if ye hae one, would be wi' her and her hounds.” She turned towards the trail of battle, her senses alert incase the dark one should seek to strike. Her families’ oath to the Morrigan had been released long since, but still old habits where hard to shake. The earth had taken no measures to hide the passing of the watch....

“LOTH! The human was fast!” Quickly she dodged the other arrows and savored the pain that the human archer had inflicted upon her. It was exquisite indeed. A few short words and she used her innate ability to cast a minor globe of darkness over the humans head. Let him see thru that. Noticing that her crossbow was disabled she had thought of a better plan. Quickly she shifted to her short sword and then began to levitate thru the air. Moving like a bullet she crossed just above him touching his calf with her sword. That should be enough. Her work done for now she sped away like a hawk, her levitation spell keeping her afloat.

Thanking Chaldan for the alchemist that kept him stocked with potions of all kinds, Leldorin drank a night sight potion. Wincing at the foul taste, and making a mental note to check with the alchemist to see if chocolate flavoring would curb it's effects at all, he was able to see very slightly through the darkness. He saw enough to know that it was centered on his head instead of being a blanket effect. Drawing on his past knowledge of the arcane arts, he quickly threw out the spell that negated the cloud and allowed him to see clearly once again. The pain of a fresh cut on his leg made him aware that the elf was still wishing to play. He looked about and saw her FLYING! Shaking his head just a bit, he looked again at her sitting in midair. Comprehension dawned and he knew she was not flying at all, but had modified the levitation spell. Quickly sorting through his counter-magic knowledge he knew exactly what spell he would use, and a small smile crossed his lips as he murmured it. It would not do at all to have her know anything at all about what was about to happen to her. He finished the spell and let it trickle out and take effect slowly. At first the elf gained but a few inches in altitude, but after a scant thirty seconds she was completely weightless and sailing towards the sky at a frightening rate of speed. He watched her as she sailed ever higher and enjoyed the look on her face as she went into a low cloud.

"Sometimes I just can't stand the living," Brimstone turned to catch up with his automaton. Hmm, the identity of that warrior did intrigue him, though. But right now he had to prepare. If this plague was what he expected, the zombie would be able to scout the town unaffected. "Yes, I wonder what would cause such a thing...,” he thought to himself.

The rapid jog, albeit on practically soundless feet, ate up the distance, eyes constantly scanning the area. The horses had left tracks wide enough for a bairn to follow. Which made it all the easier for now. There was the smell of burning in the air, and more bodies coming into view. Fresh ones. Slowing down, eyes more wary than before, stopping at each body to check for survivors. Who would slaughter like this? Eyes narrowed, focusing on the watches plaid, damnit, they had to be behind all this. That was the only thing that made sense, yet at the same time didnt. She had to find. There... The smell of smoke was tainting the air, carrying with it the sickly sweet smell of human flesh. The faint crashes and cries; the battle was nearer than she had first thought. The faintest sounds awakening the blood in her veins, clouding her mind for a brief instant, before she shook it down. “I'm nae in a hurry te be sending any te ye care, Harbinger,” she murmured under her breath as she took up the pace once more, loosening the sword in its sheath, ready. There, a little distance from the main conflict and closer to her, where two figures and a horse. As a black crow flew over head, sending a familiar shiver down her spine. “Ahh Lady o' War, ye ken tha' call all te well...but keep thy hounds from me this day, aye?”

The necromancer took in the sight before him. To any other, it was simply a field, albeit one that was poorly tended. But to Brimstone, it was a sign. The detect disease spell he had been casting and recasting the entire trip had revealed nothing in the now rotting grain. But considering how close it was to the funeral pyre, it should have infected to epidemic proportions. It suddenly dawned on him. "This is no mundane illness," he murmured. The horror that came with the realization that his protection spells were moot shone on his face. Even though he had done this preliminary scouting with his zombie, a magical disease could infect him through his controlling link. With a shriek, he severed the connection. Samual slumped to the ground, finally at rest. "By the Gods, we could be destroyed utterly! I must warn Connor!" Brimstone ran into the forest, his faraway demeanor discarded

The fire spread, the magically enhanced arrows had done their work well and the small blaze became a blazing inferno. It circled the watch and then spread toward the town. Connor rallied the men and women of the Royal Black Watch, “we MUST staunch the flames lads and lasses!” His armor was already hot upon his body and he could feel the heat of the blaze rising. Quickly Connor cast a rain spell but it only seemed to put the first bit of the flames out. The water seemed to be having little effect at all; and still the fire spread.

The dark elf smiled. So the human still wanted to play. Acting on such an assumption she swiftly cast a simulacrum of herself and then teleported from the flight spell leaving her double to soar into the sky. “Ah humans such fun they are.” Slowly she bound her wounds and then cast a quick heal there and there. Soon she felt much better indeed. It was too bad that the blaze was so high and that the very light hurt her eyes. Killing the human archer would have to wait till later. She had to get back and report, after that then perhaps she would return and find this human, after all he had provided much sport indeed.

The fire was roaring now, engulfing the forest without pattern or purpose. It cared nothing for plant or animal; it devoured both with equal efficiency. The small battle broke up, where it had been raging just a few minutes before. People fled in terror, flying to their homes to save their families, their reasons for fighting forgotten in the face of extermination by fire. The elf, which had so graciously helped the strange human upon his entry to this world, now turned to him as they gazed upon the growing fire. The human understood and held out his hand to say farewell. This time the elf took the human's hand, placing a small object in it. The elf then moved off silently, heading back to his beloved mule and the goods it carried. Sergeant Andrew Redburn watched the elf depart, wondering if he would ever see him again. He looked in his hand to see what had been left there. He didn't recognize it at all, so he placed it in his pocket for later; he had bigger problems at the moment. "Now I wonder who started this, and why it is out of control?" he said aloud to himself, relieved to see he could still form a coherent sentence after mumbling so long to try and communicate with the elf. He headed straight for the last location of the sounds of battle, though, now he could see people fleeing due to the fire. After a few minutes of dodging flaming debris, he finally came to see a small collection of familiar looking folk dressed in kilts and armor. "Colonel!" he cried out, seeing Lieutenant Colonel MacLeod rallying members of the Watch in an attempt to quench the flames. Already he was sweating buckets in his dress uniform. "How can I help?"

Leldorin sensed the elf leave. In the realm he was from magic, or sorcery depending on your viewpoint, could be heard by those properly trained to hear it. As she left, he again wondered what this had all been about. Surely I didn't offend an elf, much less a dark elf he thought to himself. BOOM!! Startled, the archer turned to look back towards where the RBW fought in a pitched battle and was rather surprised indeed when he saw a great ball of flame exploding upwards above the trees. He leapt to his horse and started riding as fast as he could back towards his comrades to help in any way possible. “Lads we have to flood the area!” The flames rising up obscured Connor for a moment, “WE have to find someway to redirect the River! Redburn find some more of the Watch and get to the river. I dinna care how lad, but get me some water in here pronto. PVT Leldorin is it? Come lad we have to keep the village safe from the flames. The rest of you break into equal groups and follow me.” Connor sprinted towards the village, dodging thru flames as fast as he could. Knowing that if Redburn failed, not even his much-vaunted immortality would be of help here. As we all know that living your life out with 3rd degree burns would be most painful indeed.

The seeming wall of anti-magic fell, causing all but the most basic of spells to fail. Men and women began carrying buckets and shoveling dirt. Doing their best to hold the flames back for just a few moments when thru the fire like ghosts of the undead the men and women of the Royal Black Watch leapt. “To the walls lads and lasses lets see what we can do about cooling this place down a bit,” Connor ordered. The flames rushed forward hungry for the town and its occupants many a man and woman were burned horribly and even some of the watch fell, but they kept digging and pushing the dirt outwards snuffing out the flames as best as they could. But it was not going to be enough. Now all that they could do was to fight and pray for help; however it came.

The Blaze was taking hold fast, and though it was obvious that those o' the watch were fighting hard to bring it under control, one more hand would nae be turned away. As much as she loathed right now to work with unknowns the time for that was nae here nor there. She moved quickly, taking note o' the rain spell. Those prayers she knew te the Morrigan hae little place here, save one;
it was worth a try. For even fire was said te hae life, .a spirit, perhaps.

“Lady of Death,

Harbinger

A Spirit Bright I bid thee te claim

Take the dancing spirit te Anwyn

Thy Servant

Thy Handmaiden

Thy Blessed Warrior

Asks this boon o' thee”

She stepped back, reaching from within, it had been a long time since she'd asked a boon of the one she had been sworn to serve...and the payment demanded would be a hard one on her own strength should it be granted. There was a tug on her heart, weak at first, but the cold presence well remembered, a flicker in the fire, would it be answered?

Connor thought of the fire and its terrible impact on the land. As his hands moved and his body fought the flames his mind was already hard at work. Thoughts of food short on the land and the impact this would have on the plague. Making it easier to spread. He knew that something was going on but what he could not understand. Then it began in his mind, and somehow he knew that all the others about him heard it too, even those that were not of the watch. “Well played Ranger but know this, your doom is at hand. Even as your pitiful band struggles against the fire that I have set forth there are indeed many more perils in your path. Go back stay in your keep and await the death that I will send to thee and thine, for to do less would be foolish indeed…” Connor chuckled to himself as he continued to fight, and his thoughts rang out loud and clear, “Ah well lad I would nae be havin so much fun if I was waiting in me wee little stone home.. No I’ll be comin for ye make that much sure in ye book.” “Then come Ranger come to your doom and bring your “Watch” with you as they are nothing to me…” With that the voice was gone and the fire blossomed anew. Strengthened by the evil presence that they all felt, but could not identify.

She stumbled back, the prayer and plea back lashing deeply. Driving her down to her knees in the dirt. The fire itself wasn’t living, but caused by another. There was a brief image in response to the cast prayer from the Dark Lady o' Anwyn. Something she would need to make sense of later. She rose, shakily, moving to aid with the fire, stripping the cloak from her back and starting to beat out the nearest flames the old fashioned way. Coughing as the smoke filled her lungs, the leathers covering in soot, pale skin growing dark. She didn’t even know if they had noticed a stranger working with them, her sword strapped across her back. A woman stood gazing at the fire blazing all about. The screams and moans of those it touched had finally been enough. "Undo th' spell now, hag," she gritted between clenched teeth. "Undo it!" "Ah, pitiful lass, first wanting one thing then another! It will cost you another 5. Nay, 10. Are the lives worth it, the little one, are they worth the loss?" Almost imperceptibly the woman nodded, her eyes dangerously narrowed and aimed at the old witch. The old woman laughed at the younger then began chanting. Sigils of binding glowed on the younger woman then faded off into nothing as arcane symbols were traced backwards in the air. "BY THE ALL-FATHER BE DONE WITH IT!!!!" "It is done, Smith. You are aware of my price and the consequences of your actions. I will collect my payment when the time is ripe. My service is complete, you are warned," she turned, laughing still, walking away to seemingly disappear into the flaming bush. Her laugh floated on the air well after the witch had departed. The golden-skinned woman turned to the village and the blaze. She would start here, at the place of greatest need. Already the power was growing inside her again, her eyes glowing as they had never before. At first she walked towards the fire slowly. Sudden pains at her middle causing tears and worry lines to cross her face.
"Blessed child, Reorx an' Paladin care fer ye, I have na choice in this. One day ye will understand." Steadily the young woman walked into the edge of the fire, welcomed it, embraced it, and then slowly began to take it into herself. Had all the training, the practicing, been enough? The Gift had been bound for months. And what if, crossed her mind before she shoved it roughly away to concentrate on the lives that needed her now. She could not be selfish when so many could be hurt. Her eyes started bleeding fire as she moved untouched towards its heart. Behind her lay smoking and charred, and to those who could witness, she seemed almost a goddess, tawny-red hair and clothing floating in the heat.

Unari MacLeod walked, claiming the blaze as only she could, but could she take it all? She most certainly would give it her best or die trying. The fire coalesced about the lass, burning bright and hungry. Her eyes wide, she took control of it but it was unfamiliar and unnatural. It pulsed and pushed at her, driving her defenses down and then with the concussion force of a firebomb it exploded. Men horses and houses were flung far and wide. The surprise was apparent by the bodies that lie broken and twisted. Those that survived looked dazed and confused. The destruction was complete. It took a moment for her to realize what had happened, as she tried to move. Quickly coming to the conclusion that that wasn’t the wisest option in the book. Everything hurt, her ears rang from the noise of the blast, her head pounded. “Lady Bright, last time me head hurt this bad at least the mead tasted good.” Maybe moving wasn’t wise, but still it had to be done. She rolled on to her left side, eyes refocusing as she looked round. There were the scattered wrecks of houses and bodies everywhere. Rising slowly, fast wasn’t possible, her back and legs ached. She could feel blood moving down her thigh, and something protested loudly as she moved. A Pair of hazed silver eyes looked slowly round, moving towards the nearest body, looking for survivors.

The archer got to his feet slowly, after being violently thrown from his horse. He looked around and cringed at what he saw. Ye Gods! What a mess! He looked around until he found his horse. He immediately saw that there was no possible hope for him. The horse seemed to have taken the brunt of the blast, possibly explaining how he had emerged from such carnage unscathed. He removed his saddlebags and moved on to see how he could help. Gravely he set about using his modest healing skills and trying to ease the suffering of those he found. He worked, not even knowing the passage of time, until he came on one he recognized. He ran at once to their side and began working feverishly on what wounds he could see. “What in the name of the seven Gods am I doing this for,” he wondered to himself as he finished with the obvious wounds and sent a probing tendril of thought into the wounded body to discover any internal injuries as Polgara had taught him so many, many years ago. As he was working on the injuries of the victim, they began to stir. He quickly finished patching a rather severe abdominal cut, then began preparing himself for the confrontation he knew he was about to have. The leader of the soldiers the Royal Black Watch had been fighting awoke with a start to find an RBW tending his wounds. He seemed much less sure of himself than he had at the fight when he started speaking. "Why are you healing me, Watch member," he asked with more than a hint of curiosity. "I am tending to the injuries of the wounded, whomever they may be. Yours were severe and if I had not bandaged them you would be dead by now." Leldorin stood up, feeling a bit relieved the commander had not immediately become violent. "I would have done no less for anyone. I do not believe you are fighting because you think we have wronged you. With the amount of dampening magic that was here before the explosion, I would say you were influenced by another to do what you would have never done on your own." He paused to let the information sink in to his head a bit. ”I will leave you now so I may tend others. If you wish to renew the fight let me know, but if you want peace and help figuring out what is going on here then we will be most happy to oblige.” With that he turned and began working on other’s injuries. He would see soon enough what the commander had to say.

She looked round, rising and stepping back from the man she had tried to help. It had been too late before she had even reached him. There were so many dying here. Even as she looked she could see shadow images separating from bodies. The flickering images of men and women fighting to hold onto life flashed before her. She could feel the cold hand on her spine, the presence o' the Harbinger herself. Lightheaded from the blood being lost down her thigh, the shard buried deep. “Dispatch a few more souls into my care, my Blood Sworn Warrior, end their suffering, send them to me in Anwyn” The almost seductive voice whispered inside her heart and mind, tugging at her oath. And for a moment only she found her hand resting on her hilt, tightening on the sword. She growled low, snatching her hand away from the hilt, and moved towards one moving figure. Perhaps working with someone else would prevent the Harbinger from reaching into her like that. “Your mine, my Shadow, my bloodsworn warrior, remember that. You'll paint the crescent moon on your face once more, soon enough” That was the last thing she wanted, to become once more wrapped in ice. Though, perhaps she would hurt less. Damnit she was doing it again. She muttered under her breath as she stepped over the remains of a corpse “I'll nae gi' in, nae this time,” she looked over to the man working with the wounded. "Hail...ye be needin' some aid their laddio?"

“Definitely, my Lady. I believe there are a few back over that way,” he points towards more fallen warriors, “that were sorely wounded. I will keep going on these and see what I can do. Do you need any supplies? Mine are limited, but I can share what I have.”
While waiting for her answer, he thinks to himself, “Where is Connor? I was following him in when the place exploded, but I can't find him anywhere.” He shakes his head as if to dismiss the thought. Too many things to worry about here, Connor knows how to take care of himself, I think. He turns his attention back to the woman in front of him while mentally cataloging his supplies and what he can spare. Smiling, silver gray eyes narrowing on the nearest man, "my healing skills are limited for the most part, but I will do what I can." Outside of home her resources where a lot less, save there was one option. She looked back at the man, noting he was searching for someone or something else amongst the carnage. The set of shoulders altering as his attention came back to her "Ye seem te hae some healing talent, better te be an extra pair o' hands if ye need them..." She wasnae going to mention that she was less likely to listen to the Morrigans seductive voice if she was working with someone. She could feel the Morrigan walking through the destruction, laying her hand on some o' the fallen, her hounds darting though the carnage, stopping at bodies inspecting them, then moving onwards. Her eyes almost dazed as she watched, then dragged her attention back to the man, "Shadoweaver, me name is Shadoweaver."

Brimstone knew to expect a battle, but nothing like this! Dead and dying everywhere, and some looked to by Watch members, others to be townsfolk. But where was Connor? He had to get this message, but the survivors needed help, too. He looked for a moment, found a pair of reasonably unhurt people tending to the wounded. "You, Healer! Take these!" Brimstone handed over a bag of his most powerful healing potions, and hoped they would be enough, and now to find the leader. She looked up as the newcomer tossed the bag of herbs to the healer she was working with. Turning back to the wounded man, her mind mentally yelling, “isn’t that tha' raiser o' tha dead from earlier,” she frowned and went back to working on the man, wondering who he was looking for.

Everything was pain. Breathing hurt exquisitely and the wind that blew across Unari's severely burnt skin made every nerve-ending scream. She had taken it all in, the fire and the magic that spawned it, slowly at first and then faster. The magic gathered itself within and then attacked her from the inside; widening her focus and speeding the absorption past her limit. Unari fought to release the blaze heavenward but the dark magic worked against her, disallowing her to release it until finally she could hold no more. The world exploded around her to the sound of maniacal laughter. Unari had proven impervious but not invulnerable to the white-hot blast. Covered head to toe in burns she laid there trembling from shock, unseeing and deaf, in a growing pool of blood.

Connor rolled over, “Gods it hurt to be burned,” but he looked up to the lad healing him, “move on lad find others that need it worse then I” Quickly the Ranger stumbled to his feet. He moved slowly to where Unari had last stood. She was there, her body was burnt and she gasped in pain. “Lie still love, it will be ok now,” slowly he chanted the words of a healing spell, green mystical energy charged into him and he touched her body. With Melikki's blessing and on his home plane the burns healed and the life in danger was saved. Although she was bright pink and in a sound sleep Unari would live. Connor reassumed the command of the watch, “you over there. Rig a shelter and you take care of the wounded.” Quickly he directed that structures be cobbled together and the wounded that were mobile be moved and made comfortable. He could not help but wonder what had all this been about, and gods the damage.

The Dark Elf flew away to meet with him, the one that scared her indeed. “Is it done,” the voice as hard as stone flashed into her mind. “Yes it is done...” “Good then I have no more use for ye...” “But?” she screamed as a silver flute burst from her chest tearing open her breast and snapping bone and sinew. She fell her eyes already glassy with death long before she hit the ground with a wet thump. “Now Highlander the game is afoot... Heh heh heh”

The glyphs ringed the sycamore in a delicate spiral; High Elvish and in such beautiful script, they had found them a few hours after the fire, and indeed they were Elvish, and they warned of the blight and gave the answer to locate a stone tablet and stop the plans laid by the God of Murder.

Connor's head spun with all the new information. There is more to this, the Ranger thought, much more indeed. There was something about Bane, but Connor knew here he was dead. Bane had died before the beginning of the entire trip from Faerun to Krynn. It was so good to be home. Connor posted the watch and then turned in. Unari was still resting and the fire burned low. The guards watched and the watch slept.

Leldorin answered the introduction of the lady Shadoweaver. "Pleased to meet you, my Lady." he said quickly as he tried to get this man's heart beating again. "Can you hold this," he asked her, pointing to a broken artery, “I have to get that stitched back together or this man will die.” He began stitching as she held the artery and he knew he had managed to save another. After he had stabilized the man, and after resolving to study medicine more so he could do better next time, he turned to the woman who was helping him. For the first time he actually saw the woman. He could tell by her clothing that she was a Watch member and knew she must be fairly new. She did seem capable and caring, so he decided to accept her. He smiled and said, “Thanks for the help. It made a difference.” Then he stood up and offered her his hand in friendship before moving off with her to help the others. He still wasn't sure of exactly what had happened, and said as much to his companion.

She fought to keep back the laughter, and as they walked to the next of the wounded. “Ye will nae be calling me lady te often, laddio, nae if ye want answering. Lady's hae nae place on the battle field, or places such as this.” Her silver eyes looked round the slaughter. It had taken her years to get the court not to call her a lady, and she still shuddered at the term. Lady's didn’t carry the horror in their hearts that she did. He had more than a slight skill at healing, which was going to be needed with the wounded and dying. But as they approached one young woman, she stopped him, seeing the Cwy Anwyn claim the soul and moved him on, “she’s already gone lad.” Did he understand she could see, or was that anger or confusion in his eyes. “Over there, there is a group,” there was a strong pull on her heart and soul, a pull of magic and pain. Someone fighting to live, fighting with every breath in their body.

As night fell, things seemed to calm down. The Watch had saved many, but many more did not survive. Brimstone marked two skeletons to rise later that night, and began to approach the main camp. If Connor were about, he would likely be there.
”BRIMSTONE.” "Yes, O Whispered One?" “LEAVE THIS MATTER.. FORCES ARE AT WORK THAT WILL DESTROY YOU.. AND I HAVE WORK FOR YOU YET” "You are not the only one I serve now. The Watch will need my help, and you have other vessels..." He walked to the shelter, only half-certain that the Lord of Secrets would not strike him dead for his insolence.

The watch had moved tirelessly about the battlefield. This plague had caused much destruction already. He had lost a quarter of his party under the assault of the trolls and he had ought to show for it other then the bodies of the innocent townsfolk and the death of the town itself. Connor gave orders that a camp would be made that night and each member of the watch would take a turn at guarding the camp. The wounded would be given a night to rest and those that could ride would do so in the morn. So Connor set about building the campsite, issuing orders for rations to be brought out and for each of the surviving townsfolk to receive 20 GP and two days rations. There was not that many that came, less then 2000 GP were handed out and then the watch began to enjoy a brief respite. Connor walked about the camp surveying his men, his friends, all.

The watch slept and the guard was vigilant. Twas a good thing as he saw in the mists of the early morn the shapes, just beyond the firelight there was much vigorous movement. Suddenly the lad yelled, “To arms!!! To ARMS!! We are under attack!” And then thru the firelight burst 13 riders all in the flowing purple of Royal Cormyeran Dragons. All with gleaming skulls for faces and riding skeletal horses covered with blackened strips of rotting skin and flesh. The mounted undead charged into the camp two in the lead and six more rode fast behind them spread out. A single rider rode drag behind the six and four other riders seemed to hang back in some sort of reserve. The watch knew as it engaged the riders that in death they had lost none of their training, and they were armored. Most of the watch was barely armed. Connor stumbled out of the tent, just in his pants and a shirt. He barley dodged a mounted lance as a skeletal knight rode past. “Melikki bless us,” he murmured as he ran across the camp, a sword in each hand.

Andrella and Bain walked down the dark path that lay before them. They weren't quite sure where they were headed, but this direction seemed to be calling to her. Bain's sword clanked lightly against his armor as he trudged along side her. Suddenly, she heard the clanking of swords in the distance. She wasn't positive of what was ahead but there was bound to be trouble abroad. She looked at Bain and he nodded to her as he began unsheathing his blade. She began concentrating on some spells as they picked up the pace. Coming closer to the brawl, they realized there was not only a fight going on, but what almost seemed like a war. Skeletal knights both mounted and on foot, were fighting a group of men and women clad in the same clothes. Apparently, these were brothers and sisters. Bain charged into the fight attacking a skeletal knight as Andrella stepped back to begin her incantation.

Brimstone was growing weary of constant combat. Uttering words of pure power, he launched a screaming spirit of Death at one of the riders. He slowed a moment, then detonated in a shower of bones and rotted flesh. Unfortunately, his lance continued forward. It impaled Brimstone easily, and threw him across the field. "I guess I should have listened..." Then all faded to black.

"If that is how you prefer it, Tiamara, then I shall call you that." He paused for a moment as he thought he heard hoof beats. He was about to speak again when the skeletal warriors burst into their midst. Leaving his medical equipment lying next to the soldier he had been working on, he grabbed his heavy battle-axe and went to work hewing bones as he would trees to make arrows with. The armor these warriors were wearing definitely made it tougher to deal with them, but not impossible. He brought down one after a few strokes, then turned and swung at an opportune target. After the skull of the enemy went flying and the rest of the corpse fell to the ground in a loud clatter, he checked to see if Tiamara needed help. She most certainly did not need help. She was blocked in by 2 of the thin fighters and looked hard pressed. Just as he was about to lend a hand she sprung into action and took them both out so fast his mind automatically slowed down the action and replayed it in his mind. A skeleton had swung a sword at her, which she grabbed and used to hack off the other's head while the first had still been holding it. Then she had twisted the wrist holding the sword and stabbed the warrior in an eye socket. When she looked up, he saluted her and went back to the business of killing undead. Not for the first time he thought about carrying a silver sword or bow on him normally. “A bit risky for the value, but handy for the use to get out of situations like this,” he had often thought. SWISH! He ducked the blow and severed the arm that had swung it while reminding himself to keep his attention where it belonged.

She nodded, acknowledging and returning the salute, before turning back to the fight. She didn’t know where these creatures had come from, but if it was a fight they wanted, a fight they would get. She dropped suddenly, rolling forward, keeping the blade tucked tight in against her till the last moment, and then swiping out with the sword at the skeleton warrior, the blade biting into the hamstrings and severing, coming back up easily. Her companion seemed to be handling himself well, which was a relief, too many healers seemed loath to kill. He danced well indeed, though she didn’t spare the time to watch closely. Though enough to note he would be interesting to spar against in better times. She found enough of a break in the fighting to look round, trying to see where these creatures where coming from or why. Had these people angered every dark God in existence? There, something caught her eye, without thinking the slender throwing dagger slipped into her hand from the wrist sheath with an audible snap. It flew past Leldorin’s nose and into the left eye socket of the skeleton drawing bead on him with a short bow. She moves back towards him, taking up a position where her back was only inches from his. "These damn things are everywhere, I ken we be better back te back in this mess, aye lad?" Leldorin jerked back as the dagger went flying past his nose. He agreed with Tiamara and they fought back to back for a time, hacking and slashing. She used her swords and he his axe and in fighting this way they brought many enemy low.

Almost as soon as the fight started it was over. Dessicated corpses were littered all over the ground and wounded and dead Watch members accompanied them. "Time to get back to work" he said to Tiamara and they began the process once again of healing the wounded. I hope my supplies hold out,” he thought while looking into his bag, “I'm almost out and there and many wounded left.” He turned to Tiamara and asked her, “Might you be able to see if we can get a few supplies? I'm almost out of bandages and many are left to heal.” She nodded, rising silently and looking round, thinking nothing about raiding the nearest human corpses for supplies, her face becoming a mask of ice. There, half hidden under a corpse was a young warrior, barely alive. He was dying, she could save him but, with a soft shake of her head she removed the boot knife and grabbed the warrior by the hair, tipping back his head and exposing his throat, as a cry of despair arose. Leldorin heard the cry and looked over at Tiamara. “NOOOOO,” he cried and ran as fast as he could to her. He used a well-placed kick to knock the knife from her hand and grabbed her, bringing her to her feet. “WHAT IN THE SEVEN GOD'S NAMES ARE YOU DOING?!?!” Her eyes hardened almost to flints, hand moving to the hilt of her sword without thinking, “he’s dying, why let him suffer?” She moved the hand away from her sword, and then looked back at the man. He will be dead within an hour without the proper treatment, and you don’t have the supplies. There was little or no emotion in her voice and eyes. "I don't care. If we can save him, then that is what we shall do. I don't believe in mercy killings. There are other ways to go about this. Medical supplies can be looted from the dead, or someone may come see us and give us what they have." He stopped for a moment, trying to think of the best thing to say. He was beginning to think that something was wrong. He had only known her for a few short hours, but this was totally different than she had acted until now. "Promise me you won't do this again." he said, and waited for her reply. She shrugged slightly, looking at the dying man. She thought to herself, “I know He can be saved, there was a way; but, but by the time you get the supplies it would be too late to do that by conventional methods. And why would I make an oath I cannot keep. The belly wound she had seen was nasty, infecting rapidly, magic was the only way without the herbs and cleaner conditions.

"We're wasting time here. You already gave an oath when you joined the Watch. That oath forbids this sort of thing. We MUST do everything we can to save people, not to decide we are gods and their lives are forfeit," letting go of her, he takes a step back. "Tiamara, like me you are a soldier first and foremost. You are also a healer. Again, like me, you may be no doctor or wizard, but you know as well as I that this man can be saved with what we currently have. We'll worry about the next one we find when we get to them." He fixed her with a steady gaze. "I will have your oath on this so I can continue my work." and he again waited for her answer. Eyes of pure silver shadowed to darkness, then closed, her face a mask, then a slight nod as if coming to a decision, “I will nae gie ye the oath lad. I cannae, for there will be times I will hae te do this.” He'd placed her in a situation, oath to the watch, she turned back to the warrior, and stepped to him, dropping down to one knee, placing a hand over his heart, murmuring quickly under her breath, “Mind to Mind, Heart to Heart, What was done to thee comes to me.” Her eyes closed tight as the pain hit hard, the wound vanishing on him, her cloak hiding for a moment the transference.

Shocked, Leldorin bends down and sees the soldier coming to, with no wounds at all! He looks at Tiamara in wonderment, and notices that she seems awfully pale. Not knowing what exactly she had done, he tried to help her to her feet. When he reached for her arm he noticed the wounds on her. Wounds which had moments ago been on the soldier on the ground. "What have you done, sister mine?" he asked as he laid her gently on the ground and went to work cleaning the wounds. He noticed the infection in the abdominal wound and knew of but one way to fix it with what he had here. Slowly he stood and began the incantation of the greater healing spell he had learned, hoping it would be enough. Shaking her head softly, waving one hand out for him to stop the spell casting, and almost focusing, the edges of the wounds blurring, the anger in them fades. Her face paler than any living being has the right to be as slowly, almost painfully slowly, they heal, fading. Her head dropping fully back to the ground for a moment as the last of them fade, leaving only the blood on the leathers as a reminder. “If...ye hae..a dram..I could do wi' it now...” The archer stands in awe as the wounds fade from sight. "What in the world was that all about," he mutters, "I've never seen anything like it." He looks her square in the eye and says, "Is there anything I should know here? Something is going on that I should perhaps be made aware of."

Her eyes slowly refocused back from black to silver gray. A shudder passing through her body as the pain eased, leaving only the weariness. This was something she was going to have to get used to, beyond her homelands she wouldn’t have the build up of strength as quickly as she was used to. “Was...a spell I was taught as a bairn, one o' the few I can use beyond the mists.” Very slowly she got to her feet. the color slowly returned to her face. She saw the shock in his face and nodded slightly, “Its a long story, lad, one we don’t have time for...tis enough te say Avalons Own walks ever alone,” for a moment, a brief moment there was a crack in the mask, a flicker of true emotion, then the mask was back up. She looked back at the warrior she had healed, then to Leldorin, “There will be days when the Morrigan will want me te despatch souls te her care...So I cannae gie ye the oath, for it would loose me some o' the last magic I hae call upon here. So didnae ask what I cannae gie...What I will tell ye is if ye ask me te stay me hand, I will, for now.”

Bain slashed the Skeletal Knight he had attacked in two. Before Andrella could cast her spell, an archer and a swordswoman in the distance caught her attention. She wasn't sure what was transpiring between the two, but it was definitely something interesting.
She squinted her eyes and looked at the archer's face. "Could it be?" She thought to herself. She looked at Bain, who was walking toward her and looked back at the archer with a nod. Bain looked at the archer, then back to Andrella and nodded. "So it is him. Perhaps we have found the Watch, eh Bain?" Andrella was brought back to reality when she heard the cry of death. Before she could speak a word to Bain, he was already fighting the second wave of skeletal knights. She would more than likely meet up with Leldorin after the battle anyway. But for now, there were more important things to attend to. Bain was becoming overwhelmed with the amount of skeletal knights coming at him. Andrella began an incantation. She set her concentration on a target and pulled energy from the sky and her surroundings. She aimed her hand at the skeletal knight behind Bain and spoke a single word, "Lightning!” Bain nodded a 'thank you' to Andrella and continued working away with his sword. It wasn't much help, but Bain knew what she was going to do. Andrella wasn't a cleric in the least, but she did know some spells that her mother had taught her long ago. She wasn't sure if she would be too late to help the Watch member that had fallen, but she was going to try.

Tiamara turned as the new wave of death headed their way, dropping and rolling out of the way for a moment, coming up to feet in one fluid movement. For a moment she was separated from the only other person she had come to know here. Then her eyes focused on one figure. Fighting against a mounted skeleton. Mounted against foot was an uneven fight to begin with. She glanced back, unsure were Leldorin was, and took a chance. Sprinting towards the warrior, she ran and part dropped, skidded under and through the legs of his mount, she severed the cinched strap, which held the saddle on. Left hand grabbing the severed strap as she came up and pulling hard, sending the Knight to the ground crying out as she did so, "Ye up laddio..." It wasn’t till then that she recognized the warrior "Connor," damnit, some how she had known that he would be in this mess. Seemed he had a habit o' finding trouble. Connor grimaced, “Hello lass you pick a bit of a busy time to visit.” The Ranger rolled and spun dodging another lance, and then he kicked the legs out of the dismounted horseman’s feet, sending leg bones flying across the ground. Connor spun again and yelled a warning to the lass that had just come up, “LASS BEHIND YE!” A lancer was riding down hard on her from behind.

Without turning, Tiamara, once called 'of the Shadows' dropped and rolled to the left, leaving an almost solid shadow image behind. Lacking only the colors, an image that shattered as the lancer struck it. Her pale hand found and grasped a good-sized stone and putting the majority of her strength into the throw she sent the stone flying hard and fast into one of the back legs of the bony mount, shattering it. "Come up on a lass from behind will ye," she growled, her eyes of silver shadowing with a cold rage, fueled by the use of the shadow craft as the beast toppled to the floor, bones scattering, its Lancer trapped for a moment. A moment long enough for the sword once more in her hand to server its head from its neck. "Cowardly acts," she could feel the cold rage building within her heart and soul, the light fading from her eyes as anger took its place there.

The darkness was everywhere, but the pain began to fade, as if it were becoming more distant. “Was this what happened,” Brimstone dealt with death his entire life, but what actually went on had always been a mystery. Almost in answer to his question, a voice called to him. It was muffled and far away, but it became more insistent as he made out the words, "Not yet... Come back..." The sweetness of that voice helped him to focus, drawing what willpower remained. In his last breath, he muttered the incantation that would draw him into stasis, preserving his body, and hopefully his soul.

As Andrella headed toward the fallen member, she could see the light fading from his eyes. She tried to speak to him soothingly until she could get closer to him. Though she had to sneak around so that she wouldn't be spotted by any of the chaos around them. She reached the fallen Brimstone and kneeled beside him. She had to concentrate hard to remember the powers her mother, Alexandria, had taught her all those years ago. She reached out to him and touched his arm, trying to see if he had survived this long. To her relief, he was hanging on, barely. She closed her eyes and placed the palm of her hand on his chest, whispering a healing incantation. As her palm lay on his chest, a bright blue light began to glow and then slowly faded. She only hoped this could somehow help him long enough to get an "educated" cleric.

Connor dove and weaved as the lancers came about. He watched Shadoweaver dispatch another lancer, leaving him one riding down on him like a evil horseman. Connor knew that swords were a bit ineffective against skeletons, so the Ranger took a different approach. Running towards the bone warrior with his best highland battle cry he dove at the skeletal mount. Connor was not light in the least sense of the word and his body weight combined with the forward momentum of the skeletal horse created a large amount of kinetic energy. Luckily Connor had flesh to absorb the blow, alas for the skeletal knight there was nothing to hold its dried bones tighter under such force. In a crash and a plume of dust the horse and mount were gone. The last skeletal lancer returned to the dust from which it had come. ”STATUS!!!” Connor Bellowed, “CALL YOUR NAME AND CONDITION!!”

She was breathing hard, the cold rage deep in her stomach now, fist clenching and unclenching on the hilt of the sword, her eyes turning looking for something, anything to kill, then came Connor’s call. For a moment she closed her eyes trying to find that center of peace. “Shadoweaver, alive and ... and what?” A soft chuckle slowly crept from a hiding place within, Shadoweaver alive and wit' it. Damn Lad, ye ken ye need better bouncers at these parties o' yours,” she thought as she slowly returned the silvered long sword to its sheath, turning, looking round at the mess. There were bodies everywhere still, piles of bones, smoke drifting across the area in light wisps carrying low moans and the voices of others as they reported in.

Two skeletons emerged from the tent containing the dead from the previous battles. With grim purpose, they laid down their arms and strode to the body of their creator. All the attending healer got was an unearthly "Shhhhhhh....” and a bony finger held to her lips. They then removed the lance from the mage's body. As one held him upright, the other leaned in close, giving him a mockery of a kiss. It then began to move to the next corpse, taking Brimstone's tools with him. His next task would be grizzly, indeed.

Andrella blinked in confusion. Unsure of what had transpired, she gave Brimstone a puzzled look. She had no idea who this man was; she only knew that he was a brother of the Watch. And as so, it was her duty to help when needed. However, it looked as though he didn't need any help, or any that she could provide. In the next moment, she heard a familiar voice. "Ahh, Connor. Has been awhile since I heard that bellow." She snickered and then returned a reply "Andrella Valence, I'm fine, not too sure about Brimstone though." Andrella saw Bain walking toward her, his blade at his side. She smiled and nodded to him and he returned the nod. "Bain is here too, Connor."

Now inhabiting one of his skeletons, Brimstone had to work quickly. If the skeleton holding his essence or his true body were harmed, his now technical hold on life would slip away. He went about eviscerating the nearest body, with two hopes. He hoped his fast-fading memory would let him complete the potion. And he hoped to all the gods that the boy before him was already dead.

The sound of horse’s hooves beat loudly in the distance as an Elven Lord wearing a Black cloak crests the rise. Everyone turns to look upon him and a shudder goes through the field of battle; it appears even the Skeletons are afraid of him. None has ever seen this elf before but then one of you notices the sigil of a Royal Black Watch Member, and the holy symbol of Dalamar, God of the Dead. This must be the newest RBW member, Thylath Darkblade, High Cleric of Dalamar, that everyone has heard so much about but no one has ever had a chance to meet. He raises his arms to the heavens and offers his prayers to his God. A wind seems to come out of nowhere and then all seems to glow blue as all the Watch members find themselves healed and restored.

Avatar awoke in a strange new land, not sure of his purpose here, but he was called by an ever persistent voice, his friends needed help, and he was here to provide what ever help he could, with his firebrand and spell book at this side he started his search for his friends, whereever they may be.

A soft rain began to fall, droplets spun down the woolen capes of the men who rode from the battle. It continued to flow down their helmets and over their faces. Many rode with their heads down; they listened and felt the cool air blow over their bodies, knowing this to be a long hard mission each was prepared. The horses were well fed and had thick coats and manes. Each man carried enough rations to feed himself and one other for a solid month if need be, albeit the rations were not tasty they were food. Armor clanked as the large horses rode by, Covering mile after mile, over the land that now seemed to be weeping for its lost children and the plague that ravaged it.

Connor had decided to head for the near town of Wheloon, perhaps to hear more news of the plague and find an answer to all of this confusion about the watch starting it, and the reasons behind the attacks upon him and his men. He had lost 8 of the original 30 and although other watch members had joined him the force leaving for Wheloon was smaller indeed. Walls made of stone and rubble and stumps separate many small fields, deep muddy lanes zigzag everywhere, sometimes sheltered by hedges. Each time the company reaches an intersection the lead scout notices the small white faded symbols of a wyvern sending them the correct way. Travelers all show the ravages of the plague as they pass the group and some still wishing for healing warn the watch of the laws in Wheloon that weapons and magic can only be used with a charter or a license to bear arms in the lands of Cormyr. The orders to peace bond their weapons pass down the line as the town of Wheloon begins to appear over the horizon. Near Sunset the road raises, Broadens and enters the prosperous town of Wheloon, the buildings here are stone and some have stucco and timbered upper stories. Looking about Connor noticed that there was only a occasional thatched roof most had dark green slate shingles. Road lamps glimmered as the group rode into the town. Each watch member took note of the town itself and its build as carts rumbled thru the busy streets and despite the late time of day. Connor noticed that the clanging clatter and hubbub of work from many shops had not dissipated.

Connor walked into the Wyvern watch inn after leaving instructions that all the watch party was to resupply and heal. Then he paid the fees for the bank of rooms that the lads and lasses would stay in and fished for some news of the plague. Twas strange but no one had heard of it, most of the talk was about the mages. How all mages of any real power seemed to have vanished from Cormyr, Even Vangerdahast the court wizard, had not been seen for a ten-day. Carefully Connor continued to talk to the men in the inn, fishing for information and learning that a fleet had landed troops north of Tantras and that Zhentilar warriors had attacked that city and Cormyr was now mustering warriors offering a gold piece a week to anyone who could hold a sword. This distressed Connor since he had heard nothing of it, and the watch was well known for its battle prowess.

Connor returned to the inn and held a council including all the watch members in the current elements. Asking for their opinions and thoughts. As they all set about a large meeting table the Leader of the watch waited for what his lads and lasses got from all that they had learned and what their opinions would be as to where they headed next. Brimstone thought long and hard as Connor told the troops of the coming battles. Something was brewing, but he couldn't see it yet. He decided he would wait for this secret to reveal itself on its own. "Someone should stay here. I sense many restless spirits, and wish to remain and tend to them." The young necromancer did not mention, however, how he planned would achieve that. “Tis better they know not the torment of those departed by this plague,” he thought, “nor the things that must be done to end that torment.” He stood and, without waiting for his answer, left the inn. One of the souls beckoned for him, with a sweet voice he half-remembered from a dream. Andrella sat in thought for a moment, and then looked at Connor. "Whatever you feel is necessary, I am ready to help. As this town doesn't seem to like the mages too well, I shall lift my blade in their defense if need be." Bain nodded in agreement. Eyes quicksilver as she listened, then nodded. "Seems a lass cannae even go for a stroll wi'out walking into trouble these days. I didnae be knowing what ye need from me Connor, but ne'er was one t' be turning aside the chance o' a battle or three." Her eyes had taken on a steely glint, and for a brief moment the crescent moon seemed to appear almost as a shadow on her cheek, as her hand moved t' scratch it without thinking. "Where ye be needing me, lad?" Connor addressed them all, “well lads and lasses, I still think we need to locate the root of this plague and what it stands for, to do this I have decided that we’ll continue our ride south going on towards Suzial where we might secure passage to Waterdeep. I fear that we cannot take action without a true and right direction from the king and for some reason I fear he has forgotten us or perhaps worse. So in the morn we’ll ride from here and continue our quest. Take heart and sleep.” With that Connor dispatched all the lads and lasses to a common room where they all rested. The mages regained spells and the fighters gained a night of welcome respite.

Over the next two days the lads and lasses traveled the road to Suzial riding to the river Starwater. Connor rode at the head of the company and eyed the bridge. The river gleamed before his gaze and sparkled in the morning sun. It was a beautiful valley and the bridge was well made crafted from solid stone. Connor was not too much for stone structures, but he did have to admit they were easily maintained. As Connor neared the bridge he noticed that on the other side that there were men. All clad in black field plate, each of them wearing scarves or surceases bearing badges of a red circle on a black field. “Zents, here,” Connor called the halt, “FORM UP!! Prepare to attack!” Some of the warriors on the bridge lowered their spears to menace their horses as a hail of magic missiles assaulted the company. “RIDE LADS RIDE!!!!” The attack of Stonewater Bridge had begun.

"HOLD! HOLD I SAY! What is the meaning of presuming to attack us? Do you not know who I am, Servants of the Zhentarium. It is I, Thylath Darkblade, Emperor of the Kingdom of Daltaria and Lord of Westgate, your allies in the South. What is the meaning of you attacking my comrades and myself? We have no qualms with you. Now lower your weapons and let us by. Or do you truly desire to violate our treaty and pay the price with your lives?" Thus finishing his comments, Thylath activates his brooch of Shielding and draws his twin Mercurial Long Swords, Nightreaver and Dark Slayer. With an unholy gleam in his eyes he awaits their answer.

Brimstone looked on as the Watch was confronted at the bridge. The enemy had a clear advantage in numbers and magic. He concentrated on sending a message through his scrying device as sweat formed on his brow. "Counter their magic, then destroy the bridge." If he had cast the spell properly, one of his comrades would hear. He looked on, to see what they would decide.

The Zent Captain looked the young Darkblade directly in the eye, "M’lord, it seems that you have fallen in with ill company. Should you fight beside us in this battle then we will gladly honor our treaty. But make no mistake the Royal Black Watch stops here and now.” Hearing this a young mage growled and loosed a fireball spell, or at least he tried, the spell fizzled and then burned into his hands, up his arms went the magic boiling the very blood in his veins. The Zent’s eyes gleamed, “You will be having no magic here Lord Connor, come now shall we dance?” The Zents crossbows flung arrows into the watch ranks, one of them striking the proud Darkblade, and then the ranks started forward. The bolt streaked directly for Thylath's heart, the aim of the Zhents appearing to be true. Thylath tumbled off of his horse, taking the bolt into his right shoulder instead. Landing heavily on the ground, he takes a moment to survey the battlefield. "Dance with the devil if you want, Zhentarium," he screams, "but your lives end here and now." Thus saying, he draws a dagger of venom into his left hand and throws it at the Zhent captain. Ducking back behind his trained warhorse, he then proceeds to attempt to remove the bolt from his arm, that he might be able to join the fight.

Connor drove forward, diving in between two of the Zentarium's warriors. His twin swords flashed and danced as he held both warriors at bay, yet there were two more coming and with the anti-magic aura in place he could not teleport. Steel rang on steel as the Ranger looked for a respite. He spun low and hard slashing one Zent warrior across the stomach hearing the lad yell in pain his grim smile turned to one of stupefaction as the stomach wound began to close. “Grand, Rings of Regeneration, I love this job.”

Thylath finished removing the bolt from his arm and applied a poultice pack to keep the wound from festering. He then picked up his twin Mercurial blades and rushed to aid Lord Connor. Then he sees the wound start to close on the Zhent warrior Connor struck. The wound starts to close, but that means there magic items are working for them. With that in mind he dodges in to the fray. Slashing at the hands of the two oncoming warriors, "if we can get their magic maybe we can control the tide of this battle," he hollers. "Their magic is still functioning though ours is blocked," Thylath continues, "Get the rings. Take the arms off at the wrists. Then there magic won't work for them." Easier said than done, Thylath continues to attack, parry, and slash. In the middle of the fray a wise thought comes to the mind of Lord Thylath Darkblade, High Cleric of Dalamar, Emperor of Daltaria, Lord of Westgate, Knight Protector of His Realm, and he looks at Connor, and then back into the battle, and then back at Connor. And then a sly smile comes to his lips, as he looks once more upon the battle. He looks once again at Connor, and says, "Is it just me, or are we the only two members of the Watch who have joined the fray? M’lord, unless something happens with our other members we may be the only ones to get glory in this battle. Imagine that, killing all the Servants of the Zhentarium, traitorous dogs that they are, ourselves. Oh what a glorious day for battle this is!"

"Ah well lad, perhaps today,” as he dodges a blow and then parries another deftly, “is a good day to die," he finishes by spinning and thrusting his blade giving a Zent warrior a gaping wound in the stomach. “Then again perhaps not, should our fellows join then we'll have help and if not then here we shall stand.” The two warriors fought side-by-side parrying and thrusting; as they deftly moved about the field of battle. Parrying often and sometimes wounding, and although their sprits were high the numbers were simply against them. Fresh warriors pressed from all sides as the two lads fought back to back. “FOR THE HIGHLANDS!!!!”

Seeming to be the only support the watch had, Brimstone turned to his minds eye. He concentrated on the source of the anti-magic field, a well-guarded mage of great power. To duel him would be certain doom. However, there are other ways. His view shifted to a rock suspended over the battle, well outside the field. Lets see how good my aim is, Brimstone thought as he released the boulder. Connor saw the shadow over the warrior to his left, a rather large shadow it was too. The Ranger shifted his stance and tensed warning Thylath of his intent as the shadow grew the one warrior to his front looked up. “NOW!,” Growled Connor as he dove forward getting out of the ever widening shadow. A soft wet sound assailed the Ranger's ears as the two warriors he was fighting were squished below the huge bolder. Connor could not see Thylath and where was that damnable archer Leldorin, or Lel, at the moment a few good arrows would be much appreciated. The Ranger dove again as an axe cut down the back of his cloak, damnation Unari was going to have to mend that. Gods would she be mad.

Twin Sword Points emerge from the middle of the axe wielder's abdomen as blood spurts all over Connor. The points of the blade then seem to twist in opposite directions as the warrior is cleaved vertically from groin to head. Picking himself up off the ground, Thylath then chops off both the warrior's hands followed by his head. "Regenerate that," he growls. Looking at Connor he verifies that he is all right. Satisfied that he was, Thylath tastes the air to see if his connection with his god has been reestablished, seeing that it had not returned he scans the field for the fourth warrior, “now where did that Zhent go?”

Finally realizing that no further help was coming, Thylath decided that the best chance for the Watch to succeed was to take out the anti-magic shell that was covering the area. Looking around he noticed an Old Man wearing the Robes of a Wizard of the Zhentarium. Gauging the chance of making it to him he decided that the only way for the Watch to win was for that Mage to be dead.
Slashing, piercing, and parrying he started to fight his way to the mage. A towering warrior steps in front of him. Thylath goes into a more defensive stance as he waits for the warrior to attack. The mighty warrior rushes at Thylath, who steps inside the warriors swing and placing his arm around the warrior's middle, stabs into the warriors back with a dagger. The warrior stunned by the maneuver, is caught further off guard when Thylath takes him and using his own body weight and propulsion against him, throws him into the body of his men. Thylath then continues to advance on the Wizard, who else shall dare to step into his way.

Andrella couldn't believe she stood here frozen for so long. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she did know that it was time she actually did something besides stand there. A look of sheer determination suddenly crossed her face. She grabbed the hilt of her blade, that had become a bit dusty, and pulled it from its sheath. She thought, “Well, it's now or never." After a brief glance around the battlefield, she noticed a place to get in. She raised her blade and began hacking and slashing at the two warriors nearest her. It had been quite some time since she used her sword, but it looked as though her magic was obsolete in this case.

The Mage smiled, “good come closer and feel my wrath!” A Huge Iron Golem reared up just in front of the mage. Concealed by an invisibility spell it shot forth towards Thylath. Connor saw the thing as he dispatched another Zent warrior and dueled with a fifth, “DARKBLADE LOOK OUT!” The young cleric took a blow from the fist of the creature almost before he could react and Connor knew that the lad would need help. Melikki's grace he would need help with such a creature. Quickly the Ranger dove and weaved throwing his opponent off balance and driving the blade of his sword thru the dark chain mail armor twisting as he did so, a killing blow but one he had to make. Then his second sword shot around and he spoke a few words of power, a bright golden beam shot forth from his Sunblade striking the metal giant's mid-section and slowly burning away just a bit of its glint. Then the beam was done. Ah well at least it worked for a moment, it seemed that the anti-magic spell that had been cast was still in effect and it was even affecting objects. The question was did it affect the magical sharpness of his blades. Slowly Connor made his way toward the battle between Darkblade and the huge Golem turning and weaving the Ranger fought to try to get to the lad to assist, but there were still to many of the Zents in his way and although he saw Andrella finally shoot forward and attack the Zentarium Horde the rest of the Watch was still transfixed; and the numbers were worse now, much worse indeed. Still the old Ranger fought, it was all he could do at the moment. Fight and hope that others in the watch would wake up from whatever had transfixed them so.

Thylath rolled with the blow as the golem slaeds his iron fist into him. Tumbling head over heels he rolls landing about 15 paces away. Jumping back to his feet he skewers a nearby Zhent through the ribs and then takes off his head with his second swing. Looking into the sky, Thylath calls upon his God in the hopes that he can summon a weather storm or at least some good cloud cover. Then we will see how the mage reacts to lightning. But will it work? As Thylath raises his arms to summon the spell a Zhent armed with a two handed sword comes rushing at him; realizing his mistake only moments before certain death, Thylath drops to the ground and brings his blade to bear. The warrior skids to a stop inches before running into Thylath and brings his sword down in a crushing blow. Thylath parries the warrior's blade as he does a sweep of the warrior's legs. The warrior, landing hard on the unforgiving earth with a loud crunch, wails in agony. Thylath stands, looks down into the eyes of the agonized warrior and says "In the name of Dalamar, I send you on to your final resting place and release you into utter torment." With those words Thylath curses the young warrior to eternal pain and suffering, and the spirit of the fallen warrior is seen by all to be carried off by a demon to be forever tormented. Thus said, Thylath turns once again to the battle at hand.

Connor drove forward pushing the Zents before him till he was sword to face with the Iron Golem. “Melikki's Breath,” this is going to hurt thought the Ranger. Deftly he parried blow after blow from the creature keeping it at bay while the rest of the watch members fought ensuring that the golem kept its attention on him and no one else. A Zentarium warrior saw what Connor was doing and slowly crept up on the Ranger; keeping warriors in-between him and Connor's vision a poisoned sword in hand, his attack would be simple and quick. Connor spun and dodged but the Iron Golem finally connected driving a fist into the Rangers side. Breaking ribs and propelling Connor several feet into the air and backwards he landed with an audible groan. The Zent warrior saw the dark cloaked man fall and heard the groan he rushed forward his sword held over his head in a double handed grip the strike to remove the rangers head was about to fall and Connor was dazed and confused, in pain and totally helpless. An arrow shot from nowhere and knocked the Zent warrior back. It did not penetrate his armor, but it did prevent his swing. A few more arrows flew forth from the trees, peppering him. As he stumbled away to shield himself, Ki appeared suddenly, standing over Connor. "Looks like I'll have to try something a bit more," she muttered to herself at her arrows' inability to drop the Zent. She lifted and drew her silver bow again, closing her eyes for a moment to murmur. When her eyes reopened they were glowing golden yellow, and the arrow’s tip burst into a mass of sparking lightning at that same moment, an instant before it was loosed toward its target. Meanwhile the Iron Golem approached.

Andrella swiftly stuck her blade through the stomach of the warrior she had been fighting. The warrior fell to his knees as Andrella slid the blade from his stomach, taking a few steps back. She glanced toward Bain's direction. He was off in the distance a bit fighting a few warriors on his own and seemed to be doing all right. She glanced back and saw Connor come crashing down to the ground. She turned and dashed toward the big golem that was standing in front of him. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Ki pop up out of nowhere, pelting the iron creature with her arrows. Andrella didn't have time to process all that had happened before she leapt up into the air, holding her sword in a double handed grip and came crashing down on the golem. As luck would have it, Ki released her crackling arrow at that very moment.

Thylath noticed Lord Connor fall. Pulling his blade from his latest victim, he rushed to his Lord's side. Kneeling down next to him he assessed the damage, a couple of broken ribs and one protruding from the flesh. A tall shadow crossed across the two forms and Thylath knowing that there were only four watch members on the battlefield turned raising his sword. Parrying the blow that almost cut him, he then riposte and slashed his opponent on the leg. His opponent fell slightly the tendon being cut and in that moment an arrow hit his opponent in the back knocking him forward onto Thylath. Thylath pushed the enemy off and rummaged through his pack quickly. Finding a potion vial he prayed that it would be what he needed. Popping the cork, he poured the solution over Connor's wound. The wound started to close and the rib reseated itself back in the body. The second half of the potion he took and forced down Lord Connor's throat. The wound closed the rest of the way and a couple of the other nicks and scratches closed as well. Thylath then stood over his Lord in a totally defensive stance; ready to block anything that might come his way. Glancing down at his Lord he noticed that Connor's eyes were fluttering, "Come On, Milord, Wake up... C'mon...." At that moment he saw the Iron Golem and it saw him, Thylath lifted his blade and taunted the creature to come attack him, "C'mon ya big brute, lets see what you are made of..."

There were flowers here, Symphony was about his black mane shone in the summer air, and the fields were so beautiful, and Blossam walked the earth; Unari's forge grew hot, as Connor smelt the sweet jasmine. Then it all abruptly came back to him as his eyes opened he saw the young Ranger standing up taunting the Iron Golem. He saw it and its escorts lumbering towards the young man. Connor sprang to his feet expecting to feel the grating of broken ribs and cracking bone, instead he felt renewed and alive. The last time he had felt this good was in the days when the RBW and the HOS fought side by side. Swiftly the Ranger called his sword to his hand, the green gem in the blade set forth a glow that was indeed beautiful and with that glow Connor again charged into battle. His mind was awash with the possibilities of the change. Melikki had blessed him here, again after his first failure, now Connor fought anew. Twin swords flashed as the Ranger sprang into the Zent horde, and lighting flashed as his swords crossed the arms of the huge golem. He saw just past the golem the smoking armor and body of Andrella where she had fallen, struck by some sort of lighting. “Darkblade, get to the lass. Help her,” Connor grated these orders out as he spun and dodged. His swords cutting into the very iron skin of the golem, “Ah lad so you can be hurt.” Swiftly he followed up the blows with two more and then he dodged as an arrow struck past him. “Damn, where were those archers?” He hoped that Kianne and Leldorin would find them, as a second volley of arrows filled the air, one hitting Andrella's still form. Connor hoped that her armor would keep those arrows at bay. And then he returned to his task, the rusting of a golem.

Thylath acknowledged Lord McLeod’s orders with a nod as he ducked and twisted, parrying and pirouetting through the Zhentarium. Many Zhents fell to his twin mercurial blades as he cut a swath to Andrella's still form. Protecting the fallen mage from the Zhent's evil fury. He glanced down while holding off numerous foes to see how she appeared to be faring, two arrows one in her back and the other in her leg. Oh great this was not going to be easy. Now knowing that the Zhents each should have some kind of healing potion on their person he stepped back causing the two remaining Zhents to impale themselves on each other’s sword. Oh, the look of surprise on their faces as they fell into each other’s arms. The light in their eyes snuffed out by one of their own. Thylath knelt down and went through the packs of the fallen Zhent scum. Finding what he expected he rummaged through the other Zhent's pack. With two vials of healing potion in his possession he rolled Andrella onto her back. Oh, that arrow was in deep. Deciding it might be better to make sure she still had some life left; he felt the beat of her heart and popped open the potion. Pouring a small portion of it into her mouth he saw the flush slightly return to her skin. Then examining her back again he pulled out a knife. Cutting the fabric away from the arrow he saw that the wound was deep but clean, thanks mostly due to the electricity on the arrow. Hearing a step behind him Thylath felt the slash of a sword as it cut through his skin in the arm where he had taken the bolt. Doubling over as if in pain he rolled into the warrior. And, then he slashed the warrior in the arterial portion of his leg with the knife in his hand. The warrior's blood spurted over everything covering the area in its glossy red glow. The warrior fainted. Ignoring the fainted warrior, Thylath left him to bleed to his demise.

Turning back to Andrella, Thylath went to pour a bit of the potion over her wound. Noticing then that half of the potion had spilled out in the scuffle with the fallen warrior. Wanting to shove the arrow through the wound, Thylath noticed that in doing so it would pierce one of her major organs, so in his all-wise and clerical nature he decided to pull the arrow out. He took the rest of the potion and poured it on her wound at the same time that he pulled out the arrow. Andrella's body convulsed in pain as the arrow slid out. Thylath then immediately poured the complete second potion down her throat. The wound on her back closed the rest of the way.
Remembering the arrow in her leg he went down to pull it out, then he saw it, the wound had completely healed around the arrow. Searching the remaining Zhents he could find no more healing potions. "Damn," he thought, "I'll have to try a spell, hopefully they are working again." Taking the arrow he broke off the feathered end of it and pulled it out headfirst. Then laying his hands on the wound he called out to his god, "Oh great Dalamar, god of the dead, I ask that it not be this one's time to go, let her remain amongst us a while longer." As he prayed he felt the healing power of his god travel through his hands into the injury. Removing his hands from the wound he saw that her flesh was completely normal again. Looking up at her face he saw that she appeared to be completely healed. Now, if she too would just wake up. Standing back up, Thylath picked up his swords and stood ready to protect her body, "None of my patients die on my watch..."

THWOCK! The sound of the arrow sinking itself into the flesh of the warrior Leldorin fought let him know it was time to finish this and continue to his goal. The delay was devastating, and he only hoped the magical sense he had gotten earlier had not done anything permanent to his friends as he had tried to ride around to flank them. These reserves had certainly been surprised as they had started falling one by one to an unseen archer. Carefully aiming, he released his bow for the last time in this group. The arrow smoothly entered the eye socket of the man and exited the back of his skull, finally burying itself in the heart of the last warrior approaching. Seeing this, Leldorin spurred his horse towards where he could still feel the sense of evil magic. On he rode through the trees, going faster through the woods than was advisable. His skill as a woodsman screamed at him to slow, but he would not, could not slow his pace. The mage must be stopped, and soon. As the edge of the woods neared, Leldorin slowed. He took in what was going on with a single look and hoped he was not too late. He immediately spotted the evil mage standing to the rear of the battle and began to take aim with his sturdy longbow. He sighted along the arrow and released. The arrow traveled in a straight course to the mage, arcing over the heads of the few warriors between them. Just as it was to enter the ear canal of the mage, one of the mage's attendants stood up to do something and the arrow buried itself the length of the shaft in the man's head. The mage looked over at his retainer and noticed the arrowhead sticking out of his nostril. Knowing this was not a normal sinus condition, he knew something was very wrong. He began to search for the archer in order to neutralize him, but could not see yet. The distraction was enough, however. His spell began to falter and Leldorin felt the damping spell fade. Not knowing many offensive spells, he decided on a much more dependable method and loosed another arrow at the mage. Now if this one would only stay out of other people's minds.

Standing over the fallen sorceress Thylath noticed her eyelids flutter as if she was coming around and going to wake back up. At that moment a blade flashed in front of his eyes, tumbling to the side he brought his swords to bare on the opponent. Seeing the Zhent standing over Andrella, he body rushed the Zhent knocking him off balance as Thylath plowed the Zhent over. Punching the Zhent in the face, ribs, and chest he knocked the Zhent out. Standing back up he noticed that the Zhent was nothing but a distraction. Andrella was being dragged off by two of them and a third was covering their retreat. Thylath drew his hand crossbow and fired a bolt at the guarding Zhent. It hit him square in the chest. The Zhent laughed aloud as he pulled the bolt out and threw it to the ground. The instant the bolt hit the ground, the tip that had been broken off as he removed the bolt then exploded. When the smoke cleared all that remained were his two legs, everything else had been annihilated. In that time the Zhents had gotten Andrella almost the whole way to the bridge. Thylath called out, "To arms, to arms, a Watch member is in trouble." And then he started after the Zhentarium twin kidnappers.

Andrella felt herself being dragged but she couldn't force her eyes completely open. She wasn't sure what had happened but she had a feeling something was amiss. She decided to squint her eyes and get a look at what was going on around her. She saw two big Zhent warriors, one on each side, pulling her by her arms. She began to mumble an incantation when she remembered that magic was unusable earlier. "Perhaps that has changed somehow," she thought to herself. In spite of what had happened before, she didn't feel that trying would hurt much. "I mean, come on, how much worse could it get," she snickered. Andrella started whispering words of a spell she had learned some time ago. As she spoke the words, she began to feel the bitter cold coursing through her veins. Quickly, she turned the palm of her hands toward the Zhent warriors and grabbed their arms. Her ice-cold hands began to smoke against their flesh. They both pulled away from her grasp and began to draw their swords. Andrella quickly pulled out the dagger she had sheathed in her belt and flung it at one of the Zhents as she twirled around and stood up. The dagger stuck into the warrior's side. He snarled and they both came to attack her head on. Not wanting to depend too much on the possible luck she had casting the spell, Andrella unsheathed her short sword. She stood in a warrior stance and grinned.

“What was all that racket,” The creature had been trying to rest for weeks, and was just nodding off when everyone decided to start shouting. Well, Krunk will make them quiet again. He climbed out from his bridge refuge, and spotted two warriors menacing a pretty female. The look on the Zhents faces as the troll bore down on them was priceless, after a few ineffectual sword swings, Krunk lifted one warrior bodily, and used him as a club on the other. When he was done, there weren't any recognizable remains. "Heh, heh. Krunk smash good," he simply stood there, admiring his handiwork.

As the arrow sunk itself into the throat of the dark mage, Leldorin felt the weight of his restricting spell collapse. "Polgara always told me that the most dependable way to stop a magic user was to distract him." He looked at the fallen mage again and watched as he coughed up blood and grasped at the arrow shaft, "he looks pretty distracted to me." Leldorin turned and saw from the relative safety of his hiding spot a troll bodily pick up an enemy warrior and smash another with him, apparently to defend Andrella. Unsure as to whether or not the troll would stop there, he pulled out a special arrow he knew was particularly effective against trolls and waited to see what was going to happen, "if it plans on attacking Andie, it'll have a rather nasty surprise." His senses were going wild keeping up with everything going on around him. He was mainly keeping his ears open to hear anyone trying to sneak up on him, and at the same time he tried to locate his guild mates on the battlefield so he could give any assistance that may be required. Nocking his arrow, he waited and watched.

The Ranger dodged and weaved, taunting the Iron golem as his friends fought for their very lives, but suddenly the thing was there right before him, propelled by something other then its legs it was no longer at sword length and in its iron grip it held his throat.
Only the plate gorget that Connor wore, a gift from his beloved wife Unari, saved his life. Connor tried to break the impossibly strong hold, he tried to yell out in protest but he barley had any breath. Clearing his panicked mind he brought his swords up and crossed them to form a brace. The Elvin forged blades gleamed as he crossed and twisted them using their leverage to break the things hold. For a moment he was sure that the twist would break his own neck instead; but finally he wriggled free, he jumped back a step and twirled in the Elvin battle, dance twin blades crossed across the creatures face gleaming in the moonlight. His strokes were true but he might as well have hit it with a blow of his breath as the creature did not flinch in the least feeling no pain from the deep rents into its body, Connor went into a sidelong dive to put a bit of distance between him and his adversary but as the ranger came up from the roll the creature had moved with him. Impossibly fast he just barely got his sword arm up to block as the creatures backhand sweep sent him tumbling back the other way. Connor felt warm blood rolling from one ear and had to shake the dizziness away. What ever had enchanted the creature had not reduced its punch. The Ranger saw the mage controlling the Golem far to the side then. Still casting as a second copy of him charged into battle. A wand came into his hand as an arrow hit him and suddenly there was a horde of monsters. Minatours with huge axes coming for the embattled group and a smaller group of orcish archers took up positions and returned fire at the watch archers. “Wand of monster summoning… Grand,” then he was distracted again as the Golem pounded him hard between the shoulder blades launching him into a forward roll that ended abruptly when he crashed against some rocks. Dazed and bleeding the Ranger got to his feet and just as the monster rushed at him he saw something, different, a glint. There floating in the air before him was a sword, not just a common blade but also a work of art. A beautiful gleaming treasure if the tip of the blade was set upon the ground the end of its balled hilt would not have reached Connor’s waist and the width of the blade was no more then the distance between the knuckle and first joint of Connor’s hand. The ranger started to reach for the sword and then it was in his hand. A calming feeling came over him, as he did not even notice that his old sword had disappeared. Connor spun and swept the moon blade in a furious arc, bluish white light trailed the length of its path and coupled with the green of its twin and the golem fell back a huge smoking gash in its left arm, the sword was incredibly light. The golem fell back as the Ranger advanced, giving him new respect as the red dots of its eyes glowed furiously.

Seeing the Troll approach to take out the twin Zhentarium warriors, Thylath felt his control weakening. He fought within himself; no my older half will not return, it must stay away. I will not return to the ways of the Shadow Ranger. But, the power of seeing such an abomination was too great. Drawing himself into an attack stance he charged at the Troll. Twirling his blades in an attack frenzy he cut down two more Zhents that happened to get in the way of his unrighteous fury. Reaching the troll he swung over his head with one of his blades and underhand with his second. The troll using the body of the Zhent warrior as a club blocked both swings. The blades chopped the warrior in thirds. The troll noticing that his weapon was now useless threw the remaining pieces at Thylath. The first piece of the warrior Thylath avoided but the second hit him square in the chest. Thylath fell as the Zhent warrior’s legs tripped him. Struggling to stand he saw the Troll advancing on him, with the gleam of Black Death in his eyes.

Now Krunk was really angry. Some little oomie runs up and chops up his club, and ruins his fun. Krunk quickly advanced upon the warrior. He wasn't sure what he would do when he got him, but it was probably going to hurt, a lot. Fortunately for all involved, Krunk was as clumsy as the next guy, and, slipping on the Zhents remains, went tumbling into the river. Calmed somewhat by the icy water, Krunk decided he hated that bridge anyway. Next time, he'd find himself a nice, dark cave. But first, to get out of the river before that little guy gets any big ideas.

Andrella stood still, trying to calm her mind. Much had happened in a brief time, though it seemed that things were in control at the moment. She walked toward Thylath and nodded. "Thank you for your help. If it weren't for you, or that troll, there's no telling what would have happened!" She then glanced around briefly. As her eyes met with Leldorin's, she smiled. She knew he was prepared to defend her, as he had many times in the past. Then looking in Connor's direction, she wondered if he needed help. Thylath, noticing the troll fall into the water, snaps out of his killing spree. Calming himself, he removed the Zhent corpse from his body. Nodding to Andrella he too surveys the battlefield, now that magic was back maybe he could take care of some of the wounded. And then he saw it, a slew of Minatours and other nasties approaching Connor. Connor who was advancing on the Golem did not seem to notice them. Thylath bent over and picked up his blades that he had dropped and rushed to help his lord and commander.

Seeing what all had just happened, Leldorin returned the expensive arrow to his quiver and prepared a normal arrow in case something else odd started. As a precaution, he also loaded up his heavy crossbow. This was when he saw the iron golem and Connor.
Connor seemed to be handling the thing well enough but Leldorin, still rushing on adrenaline, wasn't about to just wait and watch to see what would happen. He swiftly cast an obscure spell on his crossbow bolt and let fly. The bolt sailed in a smooth arc and embedded itself in the golem's back. It only went in an inch or so, but Leldorin was hoping that was enough. He waited to see if the enchantment would take hold. Connor continued battling the golem, seeming to be faster than Leldorin remembered him being. It was almost as if his sword were weightless. Just as Leldorin was about to try again, he noticed the effects of the spell beginning. Small at first, but gaining in size were splotches of rust. They began to spread out from the center of the thing's back and work their way towards it's joints. He sat and awaited the rust taking over the entire thing. He loved watching these things topple. The rust began slowly and then gained in momentum, Connor saw it and did not understand where it came from but he knew that it was what he needed. The Ranger slashed and cut using the rusted spots to cut deeply into the Golem, it howled in rage and then toppled as Connor cut off its legs. The Ranger turned toward the party as the last Minatour was dispatched. ”Well done,” Connor said and then his eyes widened and he pitched forward as he hit face first on the ground. A small red feather protruded from his neck.

Deep within the wood line the Touel'alfar knocked another smallish arrow faster then any human ever could. Much to his credit Leldorin was able to see the shot coming, just unable to do anything about it as the smallish arrow touched his skin and he was asleep. Shadoweaver touched her neck to feel the small prick as her eyelids closed she wondered what this was all about as the ever sleep took hold. Thylath fell to his knees taking two of the small arrows at once the Ranger wondering why, and then he was out like a light. Brimstone, miles away, was also taken; smallish forms flittered in and about the trees wings flapping in the breeze he two fell to the small arrows. Andrella and Bain were softly laid side by side each of them as surprised as Kianne they never even saw the shots that fell them. Off they went being carried by the smallish forms bound in magical ropes and bindings, off to Andur'Blough Inninness to see the land that was not seen. Blissfully alseep and under the protection or imprisonment of the Touel'alfar.

Kianne murmured as she started to come to. Whatever had knocked her out had left her dazed and confused. She shifted slightly and discovered, much to her disconcertion, that she was tied hand and foot. She strained harder but could not free herself. As her clouded mind began to slowly clear, she also became aware of shifting movement. She was being carried, evidently, and she thought she could make out other forms around her. What in the world was going on? She couldn't remember anything beyond trying to save Connor from the Zent. Ki shook her head, squinting at herself and trying to focus. The ropes that bound her seemed surreal somehow, as if they were almost translucent and glowing softly. She didn't know any sort of magic detect spell but even without one she could almost swear the cords were magic-based. That meant unless she could figure out just the right combination of magics to unlock them, which was highly unlikely, she wasn't going to be able to break them with anything, physical or otherwise. And at the moment she didn't feel as though she had the strength to be summoning up any magical energy to toss at what would most likely be a futile effort anyway. More disturbing was the fact that she was being carried somewhere, and she had no idea where. The trek continued farther and farther it seemed that they traveled as Kianne's eyes took in the entire area. She noticed that Connor also moved but ever so slightly. Something about being immortal she thought had made them recover a bit more quickly then the others. The Touel'alfar carried them farther and farther, Connor signaled to Kianne to remain still and do nothing. Not that it mattered because the Ranger knew that the bonds were unbreakable. Off they went farther into the wood passing into the oldest and darkest areas of the woods, lands that no humans had walked for a millennia. Connor saw that they came to the gates of the fabled city of Andur'Blough Inninness. It had been a long time indeed since the Ranger had graced this land and this city. They entered and a elf turned towards Connor, “Ye can stop pretending to be asleep now ye two. We know what you are and how long you would sleep. Although it was amusing to see how long you would try to keep us in the dark. Mcleod ye have a meeting soon with the Lady of the city, I suggest that ye prepare. The rest should be waking soon.” The creature led them to a room filled with fruits and berries, “Wait here.”

Thylath's eyes fluttered open; glancing around he saw a table covered with some of nature's harvest. Noticing that two others were awake. Trying half heartedly to free himself he finally gave up, any race that could come up with a poison to actually put an elf to sleep must be able to come up with some enchantment to hold them as well. Noticing that his captors appeared to be elves as well he settled back to wait. The elves would free him when they were damn good and ready.

Kianne stretched inconspicuously, working out cramped arms and legs. Then she reached out and plucked a piece of fruit from the bowl, although she merely turned it over in her hands rather than eating it. "Well, Connor, 'twould seem that ye know these folks," she spoke in a low tone, her eyes on the fruit in her hands, "Care to give us an explanation?"

“Ah yes, My lady Kianne perhaps he will explain in time,” a small rather aged elf said as he walked into the room, “but then again perhaps not. That is not for me to decide nor is your fate mine, but before we get into the heart of the wood so to speak let me introduce myself. I am Galendial of the Touel'Afar. You are all that remains of a Detachment of the Royal Black Watch who left your stonewalls to find a answer to a question of a plague. So far all you have found is combat and death, nothing more. I have your answers and more, but I will extract your word as a Ranger Connor, that once you are told the story that you will combat the evil and recover what is known to be lost. With or without your friends.” Connor nodded his acceptance. The diminutive elf continued, “good then we must talk and discuss your plans, you see your not just fighting a plague but you are combating something that was from the past. A Dactyl has taken residence on this plane and he has used his considerable power to twist the hearts of men and women of this land. He has the ear of the king of Cormyr and soon will own many of the rulers of men that you all follow. We came to you Ranger and your band for what was passed between us long ago. It is time your duties as a Ranger supersede your needs of the mind and heart. You must recover the Moonblade forged for Ian Mcleod from the ruins of Myth Drannor and then find a smith of sufficient skill to reforge the blade. Provided it does not kill you when you draw it. Your friends may choose to accompany you but the journey will be long and harsh. Myth Drannor is no place for the foolish or the faint of hearts. I do not know the location of the blade nor what evils may guard it, What I do know is that to destroy the Dactyl and dispell its magic the blade is the key to that path. Even here in Melikki's Grove we are not truly safe. Connor you remember your years here and know well that I would not take you as I have if I did not have good reason. You must stop the Dactyl and you must recover the Moonblade to do so. Now Ranger your journey begins anew.”

Connor turned towards his friends and allies, “When you all signed into the Watch you did not know what would come of this or where you might be. For the next task that I undertake I will not command you to follow me, nor will I ask your choices from here on out must be your own. I will lead whoever chooses to follow me, but know this there are no pots of gold where I go, no huge pay off. I only do this for the goodness in my heart and I depend on all yours. Tonight when we rest if you wish to leave, the elves will escort you out of the city and back to the nearest human settlement, there will be no smudge or distrust upon you if you leave. I will simply meet you at the Watch keep once my task here is done. Should you still be here in the morning I shall assume that you have chosen to come with me and as such we shall set forth for Myth Drannor a good fortnights ride from here. The choice is yours.”

Thylath stands up and bows before his lord, saying, "My heart and my god will follow you where 'ere you lead, from now until the end of time, I shall nay forsake you nor release myself from whatever cause you hold just. I shall follow you in all things until the time when I must leave this land for the Blessed Isle and then I shall continue watching over and guarding you until the day that marks the end of all eternity. I pledge myself to protect you in all things M'Lord. Even when you feel alone and believe that there is no one with you, remember Thylath and his god are always with you. By my lord and god, Dalamar, do I swear these things." Andrella yawned softly and stretched as she opened her eyes. In mid-stretch, her eyes stopped on Thylath as he spoke. She quickly sat up straight and listened. After he finished speaking, she rubbed her throbbing head. From what she could tell, Connor had an important mission to go on. She spoke in a sleepy voice, "M'lord Connor, I will follow you in whatever venture your quest may take you on. As always, I am in your debt and at your service." Leldorin listened as he lay where he had been left. As Andrella finished speaking, he sat up, gripping his bow and declared, "my bow and sword are in your service, Connor." He said this loudly enough to try to wake up the others. Kianne shifts once the others are done speaking. "Well, 'twould appear as though we have found what we sought," she closes her eyes briefly, "I go where ye go, Connor. I will be leaving with ye in the morn."

The seasons were turing and the long summer was winding down towards autumn. The riders left the elven city early the next morning. Each taking with them needed items provided by the elves. Basic rations and cloaks make of the finest elven fabrics. The sky darkened almost as soon as they were outside the elven city and as they crossed the barren mountains Connor and his companions wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks and bowed their heads into the wind, and plodded grimly into the teeth of the hurricane like wind. The rocks were slick and the horses stumbled and slid, some whinnying nervously, speed was impossible and they had at least 50 leagues to cover, perhaps more. Suddenly Thylath rode forward "Connor we have riders coming up from behind.” Connor nodded, “How many lad?” Thy answered, “Twenty-five or thirty all armored.” Connor replied, “Grand, what fun. Make ready lads!” The few watch members began to prepare along the slick cliff to defend themselves as they rode on.

Nodding in reply to Connor, Thylath hops down off his horse after riding again to the rear of the traveling band. Pulling tiny bones out of a bag at his waist Thylath planted each of them in the ground, planting about thirty in all. Then mumbling an incantation the bones twisted and grew into a platoon of skeletal warriors. “Guard our rear,” he commanded them. Looking to Connor, he says, "They will block and delay any evil or trouble causing men behind us so at least the odds shan't be too great, though against that mob they probably won't stand too long, maybe they will at least give us enough time to get to slightly better ground.” Then hopping back on to his horse he awaits his lords next decision.

Leldorin watched the skeletons grow and animate. He tried to estimate how long it would take 25-30 armored warriors to chop them down, and then shook out his axe from its sling. He would have preferred his bow, but archery was useless in this kind of weather. Arrows do not fly well in hurricanes. He rode on, making sure to keep half an eye on the road to the rear. "Connor, life is surely never boring when we travel with you."

“Aye, ye are right. Now follow me,” Connor dove his horse off the side of the cliff falling like a madman. The wind was picking up and the rest of the watch had a choice to make. Had the lad snapped, or was he up to something. Each made their choice

“What is the WORLD is he doing,” thought Leldorin as he watched Connor dive off the embankment. “Ah well, you live but once,” and he took off down the side after Connor like a crazed man. Thylath grinned a sly grin and then he too follows his Lord over the cliff. Kianne swung her mount around and followed Connor without hesitation, although with a small smile and a shake of the head. She was glad she was riding her ethereal horse rather than a flesh-and-blood mare, since her non-living translucent mount never bulked or questioned her directions. Surely urging a living creature to willfully plunge off a cliff would require more skill than she possessed, but the ethereal obeyed without noise or protest. And over the edge they went.

The water was cold as Connor hit its surface. The fall about 150 feet was enough to kill most men but Connor knew he would survive and he knew that at the very least Kianne would make it also. So he fell into the river knowing that the bottom was survivable to those of his kind. Rameriaz had taught him this long ago. Now Connor knew that the others would have a bit of trouble here and there adjusting to the water but he also knew that they would survive and they had all talked about regrouping at the head of this very river should they have been separated. Down the Ranger fell his ethereal mount vanishing into his pack as he slowly began to breath the water. He could not drown, he was immortal, so he looked for Kianne knowing that this would be a shock for her as it had been for him.

The river was not flowing in raging water as the single man looked over the edge where some of the watch members floundered and mounts raged against their riders. “McLeod lives and so does that witch immortal with him. They shall not for long,” had anyone been watching they would have noticed the slow supple ripples underneath the mans skin, but of course the undead are not wont to wonder about their employers. So as the highlander and his group made it down the river the man disappeared in a shimmering light.

Armor made you heavy; Connor had forgotten this as he tried to swim back to the surface the highlander noticed how much he was weighed down. A simple matter for him, as he could not die from drowning, but the lads with him were not all immortal. A simple mistake something that mundane had slipped his mind.. But it was devastating in its ramifications. Swiftly the highlander looked about for his friends as he slowly began to realize that perhaps this was not the best option.

As Leldorin flew over the cliff, he saw the water below. Quickly dismounting the etheral horse, he began blowing up a spare wineskin, large size, so he could float. The diving lessons he had taken when he was younger were certainly going to come in handy. There were things to be said about being immortal and having the Purpose as a friend. He hit the water with a terrible shock, but the wineskin did as he had hoped and he popped back to the surface. As he recovered from the shock of hitting the water he looked around, trying to see if anyone was about, either Connor, or even someone not quite so friendly. He swam near the shore and remounted the shadowy horse, which at this shallow depth was able to stand on the bottom. He got out his bow and hid among the overhanging tree branches, using his hundreds of years as a woodsman to hide himself until he either saw a friend or went on to the rendezvous.

Unari glanced over the edge of the cliff and shuddered, “Water. Lots and lots of dark, cold water.” The wind whipped around her hair as she looked over the cliff's edge but strangely her heavy cloak did not move. She had kept a small distance from the rest of the company, which had allowed her to watch as everyone else disappeared over the cliff. “Tis a good thing I do na bring with me much armor,” she thought wryly, “I could na wear it in any case. I only hope th' cloak will na be too heavy.” When she gauged she had enough distance, she put her heels to her mount's flanks hard and charged the cliff white-faced. Had she hesitated, she would not have had the courage. “Where ye lead love I will follow tho' it be th' death o' me.” Raven screamed when the cliff flew past while Unari desperately wished she'd had taken some swimming lessons. Horse and rider hit the water separately and hard, Unari slicing through the water as she struggled to remain vertical.

As Thylath started to fall he noticed the water below him, activating his ring of feather falling he started to slow down to falling about 10 feet every 30 seconds. This gave him enough time to cast the other spell that would be crucial to survival. Mumbling the ancient words, he enacted the gestures necessary for the spell that allowed one to walk on water as if it were solid. Then there on the edge of one of the precipices he thought he saw a glimmer of something. Pulling out his spyglass he looked again, there was nothing there, strange.

Ki hadn't bothered to look below before leaping off the cliff and thus was a bit surprised to find herself heading for a river. Deciding that she was better off without a mount, she quickly recalled her ethereal horse into its statue form, which appeared in her pack automatically. Left falling alone, her cape billowing out above her, she righted herself and prepared to hit the water feet first, her arms wrapped around herself and her head tucked in for protection. She struck the water hard and sank like a bullet, plunging toward the deep river bottom. Her chain mail armor did not help matters in the least, causing her body to favor sinking rather than floating. However Ki was an excellent swimmer and began paddling her arms as soon as she could, desperately trying to reach the side of the river and air before her lungs could exhaust their trapped supply. Seconds seemed to turn into hours; her lungs were burning, protesting her holding her breath for so long. Pressing her eyes closed she struggled, but finally lost the battle and found herself exhaling in a cloud of bubbles, panting almost instinctively, only to gag on a mouthful of water. Kianne knew she was immortal but had not been aware that she could breathe underwater. After coughing a few times, almost overwhelmed with panic, it came as a sudden shock for her to discover that, somehow, she was still conscious despite the fact that her lungs felt full of water. The burning sensation in her lungs was gone; no longer did she thirst for air. The panic subsided, replaced with astonishment. So stunned was she that she ended up half standing, half skidding across the riverbed, unable to do anything but gasp breaths in and out in wide-eyed surprise. Finally she regained her senses and began once again paddling her way to the shore. As she was doing so, her dense armor reminded her of her other companions. Could they breathe underwater as she? If not, surely their armor would weigh them down and cause them to drown no matter what their skill in swimming. Worried now, she dragged herself out of the deep water and into the shallows where she could stand briefly, coughing water out of her lungs and replacing it with air. As soon as she was steady she shrugged off her armor and buried it into her magical backpack, which allowed her to carry vast quantities of supplies without the added weight. No longer encumbered, she turned and plunged right back into the water to aid anyone who might need the help, only then realizing that she really should have looked first to see where everyone was.

Thylath landed softly in the middle of the river. Looking around him as he stood on top of the rushing water he noticed many companions moving about, however he did not see the remnants of Connor. Searching the river for any one else he notices no one currently struggling in the water. Mumbling a few words of magic he casts a spell that summoned a floating saucer. And waited for the rest of the Black watch to hit the water so he can help those with needs.

Kianne floundered slightly in the flowing river, her cape weighing her down more than she would have liked and she was unable to get it off at this point. Silly for her to overlook such a detail, determinedly ignoring her folly, she pushed herself upright and shook the water out of her eyes, looking around quickly. There! Quickly she propelled herself toward what looked like someone or something struggling in the water. A few strong strokes brought her within range and she lunged, stretching out her hands to latch onto the other object and hold it steady, "I've got you!"

Leldorin watched as Kianne plunged into the river. He was about to go to her assistance when he saw her emerge downriver a ways and get to the riverbank. He lost sight of her as she went back into the river. He thought of going towards her when he saw Thylath drift down and stand atop the water. He thought to himself that he should have paid more attention to Polgara all those years ago when she tried to teach him the finer points of sorcery. Having the ability awaken in him gave him immortality, but he really needed to practice more. He resolved to speak to the Purpose about it next time it came for a visit. As Leldorin watched the river for more Watch members, he saw someone else plunge into the river down towards Kianne. He thought she could take care of it, but just to be sure he began making his way down there, waving to Thylath as he went. He rounded the bend and saw Ki in the river with someone, struggling to stay afloat. The other person's armor seemed to be trying to drag them under. He yelled to Kianne as he unslung his bow and drew out the arrow with the chord tied to it. When Ki looked his way he loosed the arrow into the water next to her and reslung the bow. Taking hold of the line he waited for her to grab it and begin hauling them both to the shore. As he waited he tried to figure out who it was in the water with Ki, “Oooooooh, yes, it was...”

Connor saw Kianne grab Unari and keep her afloat. This was grand indeed thought the Ranger for there had been a time when both lasses competed a bit and so did he. But at the bottom of the lake he could see the forms moving about and saw a bit of the commotion. He was pleased that his lads and lasses were so innovative and annoyed greatly at his forgetfulness. That was until the first huge splash in the water. The mindless undead had been given one last instruction and they followed it with fervor hurling rocks and boulders down the side of the clifface starting small avalanches. The Ranger knew his friends were in trouble for the current was not swift enough to carry them away and another bolder fell dislodging a dozen or more in a great rumble that tumbled down the cliff face towards the soggy group. Connor saw a chance for both his lads and lasses and Unari’s beloved horse. Quickly he mumbled the words to a spell but the water muted and twisted the words in his mouth. “GODs,” the Ranger swore as he began to swim with long hard strokes towards the surface, he was in full armor and that would be enough to kill any man, but it was not for him that he was swimming it was for his beloved wife and his closest friends both old and new. He never flinched as he swam towards the chaos that was the rock falls.

Kianne held tight to the lifeline Leldorin had provided, her other arm still tightly around her ally. Their cloaks weighed both of them down and the arrow's twine was a welcome anchor. Together they worked to paddle their way painstakingly toward shore, struggling to keep their heads above the surface of the water. A rumbling sound attracted her attention, and Kianne looked up to see a rain of boulders parading down the cliff side. There was no way they could swim out of the way in time. That left only one recourse.
"Hold your breath!" she yelled to Unari and summarily let go of the line, clamping her legs together and allowing the two to sink deeply into the river. The water would slow down the boulders some; hopefully enough to allow the two women to dodge them and escape a crushing end. But last time Ki had checked, Unari could not breathe underwater. Water and Wind, could she do it? She had never before considered such a spell, and certainly had never tried it, but her magic was largely driven by the imagination, so it was worth a try. Ki closed her eyes, her hair billowing out around her. Luckily her own innate magic needed no spoken words. With a glowing light, a bubble began to form, growing larger until it completely encased the two of them. Unari suddenly found herself able to breathe, the air sweet and pure. Within the confines of her concentration, Ki found her mind considering her companion. Poor Unari--of the Element of Fire! Surrounded by all this water and wind, two banes to flame. Unari was stronger with Fire than Kianne ever would be, although mayhap she did not realize it...but specialization also meant disadvantages. Ki pressed her eyes more tightly closed, struggling to keep the bubble strong. There was no way to focus even part of her attention elsewhere. She only hoped Unari had a plan.

A big splash went up next to Thylath as a boulder hit the water. Looking up to the sky he saw boulders falling out of the heavens on top of them. Seeing Leldorin pulling Ki in, Thylath decides that there must be no more Watch members up top. Calling upon the magical energies of his god he summons forth a wall made of wind on top of the cliff. As the undead throw the boulders down they seem to fly back up into the air and land back on the throwers. Trailing his hovering saucer behind him, Thylath ran to where he saw Ki and the watch member who were struggling go under.

Leldorin watched Kianne look up and then turn loose the line. He looked up and saw the large rocks and boulders falling towards them. Thinking rapidly, he let go of the line and began building his Will. Struggling to remember what he had been taught so many years ago, he formed the image of a large shield in his mind. After he had all of the details worked in, details he remembered from watching Unari for hours toiling at her forge, he made the image reality. The shield of pure force covered him and, as he moved closer to the water, Kianne and whoever was with her. Rocks started hitting the shield and Leldorin was forced to stop moving. It was all he could do to keep the shield intact so trying anything else while working on it was futile. Sorcery was definitely not his strong point. He was beginning to weaken, struggling to maintain the shield. Slowly the edges of it began to shrink and draw ever closer. Fortunately as the edge of the shield got close to Ki, a great wind tore through the canyon traveling upwards at so ferocious a rate that it actually carried the rocks back up to the top. The time afforded him by this lapse he spent rebuilding and strengthening the shield in hopes that if the rocks returned he would be ready to defend himself and the Ki duo. Satisfied that his shield was firmly in place this time and he could withstand another heavy barrage, he settled down to wait and watch.

Thylath hurried to where Leldorin was waiting. Looking at him from across the water he hollered, "The wind wall will keep them busy for another couple of minutes. We have time to get out of here. All the others headed downstream from the way the water is flowing." Thus saying, Thylath began to move downstream still walking on top of the water. Looking for any signs of the Watch.

Connor rushed to the edge of the water and then turned waving his hands to show all the others where he was. He noticed them all starting towards him and then he heard a familiar voice, “Hello Mcleod.” Connor spun sword leaping to his hand, “Kurrigan!”
The Kurrigan replied, “aye Highlander did ye think that Rameriz was the only one who would find a way back? We have come for ye and all your good immortal friends Mcleod.” Connor spun away as five more immortals all leapt from the shadows. Kane was running along the side of the lake. Connor's swords met the Kurrigans and the duel began as each parried and blocked. The rest of the watch was still in the water and perhaps totally oblivious to the danger that they now were in. The immortals with him would know of the others. But the humans a killing blow to them was just a brief rest for a immortal. Connor parried another blow from the Kurrigan as he saw Kianne come out of the water and saw Kane right behind her, “KI!!!!” As burdened as she was with Unari, Connor was not sure what else he or she could do.

As Leldorin turned from Thylath towards Connor, what he saw shocked him. A very odd looking man was rising up behind Kianne in a manner that did NOT look friendly. Quick as the thought hit him, he was stringing up an arrow and loosing it at the man. Just as his arrow flew he saw the man raise a wicked looking sword and he knew then that his first reaction had been the right one.

The arrow flew true and hit the man directly in the back of the head. The man stopped in his tracks as expected, but then he did something that was not even dreamt of. He turned around to look squarely at Leldorin with an arrowhead poking out of his forehead.
Stunned, Leldorin couldn’t even move for a breath. He watched as the man reached behind him and pulled the arrow out of his brain. Numb with shock, he didn't even think to yell to Kianne for a second. He shouted a warning just as the man turned back to her. Slinging his obviously useless bow, Leldorin pulled out his trusted axe and spurred his ghostly horse as fast as it could carry him towards Ki. Just as he was about to leap off and tackle the stranger he recognized Unari as the person Ki had with her. Glad it was an axe she had made for him, he leapt from his saddle and instead of tackling the odd man he chopped into him as if he were wood for a fire. Rage threatened to take over, but he controlled it as tightly as he could, knowing that as soon as he lost himself, his enemy had the advantage. Pushing off his opponent, Leldorin stood in a ready stance. The swordsman appeared to be good, but Leldorin had long ago reached Grandmaster status with swords and was even better with his favorite axe. There was definitely something to be said for using one those long years trying to learn how to make the bows he used. The battle was fierce, but relatively short as battles go. The swordsman feinted several times to test the axeman's skills. Leldorin acted as if he barely knew which end to hold the axe by, struggling to keep the sword strokes from slicing into him until his opponent was in just the right position. His skill suddenly appeared as if from nowhere and the swordsman's arm was lying on the ground, twitching. To Leldorin's utter amazement the swordsman merely picked up the arm and put it back in place as if it were just a broken toy. He watched as the arm connected itself to the shoulder. The swordsman grinned at the archer, then began a flurry of strokes with Leldorin was barely able to hold off. The fury began rising once more, and this time Leldorin wasn't entirely able to hold it off. His axe became a blur and the swordsman was now on the defensive. Few people have really had the opportunity to test an axeman in a swordfight, and those that have rarely wish to do it again. The archer thought that this man was one that would agree with that group. As the swordsman seemed able to reattach parts of himself when they were removed, Leldorin decided to see what would happen if he got a clear shot at his head. He could only hope that once his head was removed he would be unable to fight. Leldorin had to find a way to end this quickly. Axe fighting was terribly tiring. He thrust and parried, trying to get an opening on the very skilled swordsman. The man seemed to be purposefully trying to keep that razor sharp axe blade away from his neck, and that seemed to verify what Leldorin had thought earlier. He doubled his efforts and soon had an opening. As fast as he could and as hard as he could, he swung the great axe at the unprotected neck of his enemy.

Kane stood behind the man with the axe, the last time he had fought Mcleod he had first slain a wizard of the land, a lord of Illusion and for that he was thankful as the lad swung his axe thru the neck of where Kane should have been or at least appeared to be Kane’s sword swung in a long slow sweeping arc cutting Leldorian’s hamstrings as the lad screamed his heavy axe cleaving thru now empty air. Kane advanced using a small dagger he tossed it thru the air and then rippled as he disappeared. The dagger flew true striking Kianne in the back just below her left lung. The blade incredibly sharp sunk to the hilt. Dazed and exhausted from the mental energy required to cast her Elemental magics, Ki watched the battle helplessly, unable to get up. It was all she could do to keep herself conscious and anchored on dry land. The man Leldorin was fighting seemed familiar somehow. Kianne wondered if she had met him, or heard about him at least. She watched with detached fascination and horror as the swordsman kept healing his wounds with surprising speed. She recognized the effect, she realized distantly, even if her own ability to do the same was nowhere near as pronounced. And as Leldorin's axe swung through the man as if he wasn't there, she realized it was an illusion, and that sparked another memory of deja vu. “Leldorin,” she tried to shout in warning, but the words never made it out of her mouth, for in that moment she felt the distant but sharp pain in her back and realized it was already too late. Still, even through the haze of pain and encroaching darkness, she was confused; for she was sure Kane was immortal and undoubtedly knew more about such creatures than she did herself. Despite her situation, and in spite of all of the more important things she could have been considering in her last few moments, her mind ended up focusing on one bizarre question, why hadn't he gone for the neck? Is he incredibly stupid or does he just have really bad aim was her last thought before her unconscious body hit the ground.

On the ground, Leldorin knew he had not performed as well as he could have. Gathering his waning strength he quickly concentrated his healing energy on his legs. Once those were back to normal he decided it was time to use what Polgara had so long ago taught him. Knowing he was no match for a wizard, he braced himself. He caught himself short as he realized that the odd man wasn't a wizard. He was something, but no wizard. He quickly went over to Ki and, after taking the dagger out of her back, healed the small wound. He looked at her and quickly said, "I'm going to do something a bit disturbing, so please don't be surprised." He handed her a couple of his healing potions and then went back a ways to concentrate. Gathering in his Will, he formed the image of a creature from his homeland in his mind and then formed himself into it. Looking down at his claws and talons, he reached up to feel the fangs. They were a bit too large and he quickly corrected it. He walked down to the pool and looked at his reflection amid the waves. After making a couple of other minor corrections, he decided that it was time to hunt. The Algroth went back up and began probing the area with his mind to find the smell of the intruder that he remembered so well, the images of rending flesh flashing in his mind. He knew all to well that the Algroth sense of smell was legendary in its accuracy and not even Belgarath could fool it. Searching with his mind instead of his nose made it foolproof. There! He had the trail. The quarry was moving around to where, Connor! The man was heading to Connor! Flexing his clawed hands and making one final change to his form, adding the Royal Black Watch crest to his chest fur so no RBWs would be attacking him, he went to take down the prey...

Thylath watched in utter fascination as Leldorin's axe went straight through the neck of the man. And did absolutely nothing. Well if it is battle they want then its battle they will get. Calling upon his god, Thylath called down the powers of protection upon himself, mumbling the words to the mystical spell "Stoneskin", then seeing the illusion for what it is, he then cast Detect Life upon himself. Seeing the man moving towards Connor, Thylath yelled at the man and drawing his blades ran to where the life force of the man was. And what a strange Life force it was for it was far stronger than any he had seen before. Looking to check on Ki and Leldorin he noticed that Ki's life force matched then mans and so did Connors, now what the hell is going on here. Oh well, who cares, they are after my boss, time for the strange man to die. Seeing the man's lifeline seem to be tied to his neck that is where I shall go for. Running across the water Thylath joined the fray, shouting a challenge as he came.

Connor swung to the side of the Kurrigan’s huge broadsword, He parried and feinted each thrust and dodge costing him valuable time and effort, he saw the battle around him, he just could not do anything about it. Leldorian was following a image of Kane, but the actual Kane was behind and to the left of Kianne again. How well Connor remembered that Kane wanted to play with his food before he ate it or in Ki’s case beheaded it. Connor swung and parried another blow from the Kurrigan somehow he seemed stronger then the last time. Faster and faster the blows came and the highlander was hard pressed indeed, Connor parried and swung intending to cut the Kurrigan across the back of the legs. The blow missed as the Kurrigan swung his heavy sword about and caught the highlander just below the small of the back. His blade coming away bright with blood, the Kurrigan smiled.

The Algroth, something that Kell had never seen before in his time and after slaying over 600 Immortals he had seen much indeed. The man moved with an economy of motion that most of the greatest sword masters hoped to one day attain. His blade made of the finest burnished steel and razor sharp. He leapt onto the back of the large creature his sword pointed downward cutting deeply into the large shaggy beasts hide. The creature roared in pain and Kell smiled obviously this was another of Mcleod’s friends and he did so like to torment Mcleod with the death of his friends. Quickly the large man dodged outside the beasts reach and then dove forward. Jacob Kell was a man of the cloth after all and of course he wanted this to be quick and humane. The sword weaved into an impossibly fast motion, faster then even Connor’s could move. The Algroth, known as Leldorian, had met Jacob Kell.

Seeing the man standing behind Ki, Thylath went after him first. Drawing his twin blades, Thylath approached the man with the lifeline tied to his neck. Looking at the man Thylath challenge, "So you wanna play do you?" Thylath took and flung one of his swords at the man sheathing it into his chest cavity, knowing from watching that wounds do slow these people down, and with the sword being attuned to him if the man tried to draw it from within his body he would receive the shock of his strange and demented life. Then taking his other sword with both his hands Thylath struck at the man again and again, going for the mans neck with each swing. Slashing and parrying with the knowledge and years of training and fighting with the blades that he had mastered a millennia ago, for I may not be immortal but I have countless generations behind me. I have mastered and grand-mastered many weapons in my lifetime and many professions, for I do not have the problem these mortal humans have, I am not cursed by some strange magical enchantment, for I am an Elf, and High Cleric to the God, Dalamar, Lord of the dead and god of Magic and I shall not be sent to his abode until he is damn good and ready.

PAIN!!! An enraged algroth is a sight that very few indeed have seen and lived to tell about. Leldorin intended that number to remain at its present level. Leldorin whirled at the new person, barely missing him as he sped out of range. Pressing the attack with all the power and speed he could muster, Leldorin went after the man with the clear intention of tearing out his throat. Knowing that no one here had ever heard of, much less seen an algroth was giving him an advantage. No one knew of his capabilities. Keeping a mental lock on the man's mind so he would know exactly where he was at all times, Leldorin advanced on him slowly and with great care. The wound on his back burned, but did not limit him in any way. An algroth has a VERY tough hide, as this fool would soon discover.
The dance was exquisite. Never before had he fought such a talented opponent. Had he been in his original form he would have been overmatched to the point of retreat, but as the monster he had become he matched the enemy blow for blow and block for block. The main difference was that Leldorin could take the hits much more easily than the man could. This began to show itself fairly rapidly. The enemy paused to catch his breath, so Leldorin paused as well. He could have continued the attack and been able to win as he had plenty of energy left, but honor imposed itself, he was an Arend after all, and he stopped fighting but stayed on guard. The man stared, but made no sound. Leldorin stared back at the man, trying to figure out what this was all about. After resting for a minute the man was able to continue. The monster was strong indeed and Jacob Kell saw this quickly as his sword arm tired and he began to wane as he focused his energy inward, drawing upon that which was the quickening. He focused that energy anew towards the huge creature that was attacking him, As the Algroth drew back to separate his head from his shoulders, Kell also drew upon his life force and pushed it forward. Stronger then even a blast from Ancient Belgarath the bolt hit the Algroth squarely in the chest and manifested itself as a jolt of electricity ten times as strong as a lighting bolt from the sky. Perhaps it was enough to kill the beast and then again perhaps not. All Kell knew is that the Algroth was at the very least stunned for a few moments and that was all that he needed Violent and fast they flung themselves at each other until Leldorin saw an opening. The weariness of his opponent had given Leldorin the opening he needed to win. He quickly took the given opportunity and sank his claws into the man's neck. Making a fist inside his neck and pulling, he succeeded in ripping out most of his throat and severing, but not separating his spine. The man fell like a poleaxed ox. Leldorin stood over him ready to deliver the final swipe that would separate his head from his shoulders for eternity.

Jin Ye was a master of the martial arts and of course it was nothing for him to levitate across the water to face the rash young one coming towards him. They all looked towards Kane this was well indeed. Having created many of the martial arts of this day the Immortal moved towards the one called Darkblade with a singular purpose; his baridache was held high in a parry and he skipped across the water as fast as a hawk. His blade almost caught the young warrior off guard as it whistled towards his head. No matter thought Jin he had fought many a man before and would indeed fight much better again. His axe moved with precision as the 9 foot long steel pole with the wicked looking sword breaker blade on the end caught and parried each sword blow from the child. Quickly the warrior took advantage of a slightly over stretched foot and caught the young Darkblade on his instep, driving hammer like kicks up his inner leg and to his ribcage and inside his left sword arm. These blows happened in a microsecond, Jin was good very good indeed. After all he had only been doing this for about 2000 years. As each blow from Jin Ye struck Thylath, Jin was surprised that they didn't even seem to faze the elven warrior. As Jin came back down from his many kicks he found the ground rushing up to face him. Landing with a loud thud he glanced up to see the elf smiling down at him, with a sly grin, "So you went for the ruse did ye grandpa..." Thylath said as he dropped sword blow upon sword blow upon the martial artist. "I am not like your friend, I do not need illusions to stop my prey, for I am Thylath Darkblade, High Cleric of the God Dalamar, Lord of the Empires to the East and I have fought and beaten people thousands of time stronger than you. I have fought and beaten creatures whose life was not tied to something as pale and fragile as a neck," Thylath said as he parried the blows from the Martial artist as he got back to his feet. Then taking a step in Thylath called upon the power of his sword and started to move faster than light, as he struck again and again upon the immortal before him. Cutting and slashing him with each blow, Thylath was closing in for the kill. As he brought the sword around in a deathblow aimed directly at the martial artist’s neck. The young lad impressed Jin and he allowed him to have his fun. Although the tone was one of confidence the Master was sure of himself also. He parried and feigned time after time always giving a bit more allowing his battle to become his own. He felt the boy’s Ki and it was strong indeed and a bit magical. The master was no stranger to magic as fast as a silver serpent and faster then the overconfident Thylath could follow Jin switched blades to one made of seeming air. This new blade thrummed with pent up energy. Swiftly the master reversed the boy’s deathblow and then used his own momentum to twist the boy backwards drawing his blade across the back of the young boy and seeing the surprise and flash of pain in the boys eyes as Jin’s blade cut deeply indeed; seeming to have a mind of its own, for in fact it did, and it sought the blood of Jin’s enemies. Now Jin advanced moving faster and faster using the quickening that he had absorbed to move with lighting speed. His blows were strong and hard and for just a moment he moved with the speed of lighting and struck like a hundred thunders, Jin was not a grandfather to this boy any longer. He was death.

As the algroth Leldorin watched his enemy's head roll and bounce away he remembered a warning from Polgara when changing shape. The mentality of what you change into begins to take over your own. She had sternly warned him those many centuries ago not to stay in a strange form overlong unless he wanted to absorb some of its personality. After looking around and seeing no one near he sent a quick probe from his mind to verify the mirage-maker wasn't near. He then formed his own image in his mind and slipped back into it. Having both magic and sorcery to draw upon was a mighty advantage and Leldorin vowed to himself that after this little fracas was done he would devote a hundred or so years to its study. Magic was a nice backup, but sorcery really fascinated him. It was so much more versatile. Checking himself over and seeing that everything was as it should be, he drew his katana and went towards the sounds of fighting. The first thing he saw after rounding the corner was Thylath and an unknown man. The man seemed to have a bit of the upper hand at the moment, so Leldorin decided to try something odd. He concentrated and changed the stranger's sword into a summer sausage. The man didn't seem to notice for a few seconds, but Thylath surely did.
Leldorin assumed that this group of enemies was alike because Thylath immediately went for the exposed neck of the sausage-wielding man, cutting the sausage in two in the process.

Jin Ye thought he was death for Thylath, yet Jin Ye was wrong. Thylath called upon the powers of his god and his ki and he followed through with a double kick to the head of his foe. Then bringing his sword around to cut Jin's head off, Jin brought up a Blade to parry the blow. As the parry was coming up the sword suddenly seemed to change into a long cylindrical brown thing. Oh my god, its a sausage, and Thylath's sword went straight through the sausage as if it were cheddar wurst. For Jin Ye did not know that he could not become death for Thylath for Thylath had already met his maker and defeated him and now Thylath was the highest of deaths worshippers. For Thylath was not immortal, but he had a deal and death would not claim him until Dalamar, the god of the dead, was damn good and ready. All these images passed through Jin Ye's mind as he felt the blade cut deep.

Jacob Kell saw all the consternation about his untimely death. How Kell loved to mislead people. His Simiculrm was dead, ut he knew as well as Mcleod did that he was alive. There was no release of the quickening no lighting or such, nothing. Kell also had seen how the beast fought and he and Lachen had learned much, he and Lachen closed on the beast from behind. And once more Kell used his favorite ability misleading people as he slowly faded from sight, Lachen attacked thee beast from behind his huge double-bladed battle-axe cut deeply into the beasts backside. After all the barbarian had been fighting all his life and Kell watched and waited.

Jin Ye felt the blade bite into his body and he rolled with it, the blade slicing into his neck just as far as he wanted it to. The martial arts master rolled his neck up the blade moving his body as the blade tried to keep up with his movements. He then spun off and dropped low tossing the sausage up into the air, his legs rolling again underneath Thylaths, he scissored the lad’s legs and Thylath hit the ground hard. Jin spun back to his feet as Thylath got up himself, as fast as a blink Jin launched seven small shuriken into the mans chest. Each was coated with a paralyzing poison as they sunk past the man’s armor. Moving even faster now the master drew twin short swords and rained a staccato series of blows upon the lad that the watch called Tylath. Faster and faster they came as the vorpal shuriken pierced Thylath’s body and delivered their paralyzing poison. As each of the shuriken hit, Thylath felt the debilitating poison enter his body. The effects would have paralyzed Thylath, he knew, but he had already given control of this battle over to his swords, and they were now in command. Jin Ye watched in fascination as the elf kept fighting even though he shouldn't be moving at all. There was a blue rippling effect and a flash of lightening across the sky as Thylath's twin blades came together and a bolt of electricity shot out of them striking Jin Ye in the chest and propelling him back 60 feet. Jin Ye landed upon his feet at the end of the blast, he lay there taking a moment to shake off the electrical aftermath. In that time one of the blades had sheathed itself while the other had control of Thylath's actions. Causing his arm to reach into a pouch the blade pulled forth a flask, which the blade opened and caused Thylath to drink. A greenish shimmering went through Thylath's body and he felt the effects of the poison wear off. All of his muscles hurt from being forced to move when they were contracted, yet a simple cure spell would handle that. Jin Ye charged Thylath as he finished mumbling the words to the spell. Jin Ye went into a flying kick that caught Thylath directly in the head. And there was the sound of a loud snap. Jin Ye smiled in satisfaction as he landed on his left foot. Coming down on his right foot, Jin Ye grimaced in pain; somehow on this elf's head he had broken his foot. It was like hitting a stone wall, and then Thylath's blade fell.

A sort of time warp confused Leldorin for a short time, but then he heard the old voice, one he hadn't heard in several hundred years, and everything was clear. “Hello again, Leldorin,” the voice said in a voice only he could hear, “sorry to do this to you, but I have need of your services in yet another realm. Let me take you to our meeting place so that we may speak of it uninterrupted.” And with that Leldorin vanished in a wisp of smoke, leaving everyone behind totally perplexed as to what happened to him.

The sands of time shifted again as the Lich attempted to correct his spell, this time the spell worked and time slowed to a halt.
He looked over the field outside his simple tomb as the combatants battled or at least had battled and he made a decision. Summoning awesome energies, he began another spell one that would take much time indeed to complete but the result would be gratifying indeed.

Kane so enjoyed playing with his prey, those that were not immortal were so much fun and of course this other immortal lass would be fun indeed. He waited for a few moments as the poison would only keep her down for a moment.. Slowly his sword slid into her back just along her spinal column. He drove it down pinning her to the ground, and then he turned toward the other young lass the one that seemed not to be moving. Perhaps she only needed some motivation as of course she was just out of the water. Kane walked towards the unconscious form of Unari

Jin felt and herd his foot break, this youngling was good indeed but of course this was where Jin would do what he did best, cheat. As Jin landed he felt the pain streak up his leg but he boxed it up and put it away for later. His hands flew sending a few eggshells specially coated inside to keep the acid from creating problems for Jin. However when the six eggshells broke over Thylath and the acid started eating into his flesh Jin was already moving again, pressing the attack.

Connor blocked the Kurrigan's blow again and spun. Just as quickly the Kurrigan turned his sword and twisted using the momentum of Connor's swing and his own weight he sent Mcleod's sword flying thru the air. Connor ducked letting the sword go and then spun backwards, his body spinning away from the blade of the Kurrigan's sword. This was taking too long, thought Mcleod, and now he had no blade. The Kurrigan came at him hard and fast. He scrabbled back using his hands and his legs to dodge and dive. This was not going well and then Connor remembered his Ranger training.

The energy flowed and ebbed as it had done for eons and Altrinus coalesced it about him in a flowing shimmering shard. Time and the skins of evil meshed as he continued his work. Power flowed through the ancient archmage. He had eons to build his power and soon they would all see it.

“I must again apologize, Leldorin. Taking you from your friends like that was inexcusable. I can only hope that after you hear what's going on you'll understand”. The dark man-shaped shadow that was the Purpose of the Universe paced back and forth across the white tile. Leldorin looked around as the Purpose began to explain. He was in a fairly small room with white plaster on the walls and no windows. The single white door had no doorknob or window, but he knew they would have done no good anyway. The last time he had been in this room he tried to walk out, only to find himself standing on nothing at all. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to the one that had brought him here. “Things are heading back to a Choice, my friend. This time, however, the Choice has to be made by an Arend. There are only two Arends left with enough intelligence to make it your cousin Mandorallen and you. He looked at Leldorin in askance. Can you really expect me to leave this to a Mimbrate?” Leldorin thought about it for a few moments and a new idea formed. "Yes, actually I can well imagine that happening. I don't really know Mimbrates all that well, but I do know my cousin. There isn't a single shred of evil in him, along with the same amount of brains." He looked at the Purpose and saw that the light was dawning there as well. "If you leave it to him, he will choose for the good. He abhors evil in every way and has no temptations at all. I unfortunately cannot say that of myself." The Purpose looked at Leldorin. He stood there for a moment, thinking, and then said, “I can't believe I didn't think of that myself. It's no wonder I kept you around these last few millennia.” He shook Leldorin's hand, which Leldorin would later equate to french kissing the sun, and said, “Well, last time I gave you the gift of sorcery along with immortality for your assistance. What would you like this time? The universe is yours for the asking, my friend.” He got a slightly worried look on his shadowy face and added “No killing and no god-like powers, of course,” then he smiled and waited as Leldorin thought about it.

Kianne opened her eyes, shoving against the blade impaling her. Kane's back was to her as he moved toward Unari, but that helped her little and he knew it. Ki struggled to lift herself, but the blade seemed fast in the ground, and all she succeeded in doing was sliding her body along it. More blood seeped from her tunic and dribbled to the ground. She was sure she was about out of it by now.
"You won't... hurt her..." she growled under her breath, stretching out a hand toward Kane. Her eyes flared briefly right before energy burst forth from her pinned form, pure white and blinding. Driven by fury, the light flew from her hand and plowed into Kane, flinging him dozens of feet down the riverbank. It would not be enough to finish him, not even enough to really harm him, but it would at the very least slow him down. Kianne cast her fading gaze toward Unari, mind searching rapidly for hope. Unari was a Fire type. She was stronger than Ki would ever be with Fire. Perhaps there was a way. Of course if her stressed body couldn't handle it... Ki closed her eyes, placing her hand on the ground. Moments later soft orange flames sprang up around Unari's form, bathing her in a warm glow. They surrounded her but did not consume her, instead filling her with energy and healing her wounds. Like to like, what would have been a bane to lesser folk was a blessing to Unari. Having spent the last of her energy, Ki let her body slide to the blood-soaked ground. "Unari, you have to survive," she whispered to the grass, "You are Connor's..." She never did have the chance to complete the thought.

She dreamed. Everything was dark cold and wet, she screamed soundlessly for an eternity. Then blessed heat caressed her, warmed her chilled body. Before she could even open her eyes rough hands grabbed her. Her eyes opened, so red they appeared black, and the hands that held her burst into a flame that began a slow trek up the arms. Unari had awakened and was not at all herself, smiling wickedly as Kane's form burst into high flame.

As the eggshells hit Thylath he screamed in complete and utter pain. Then he charged Jin Ye grappling him in a bear hug, smearing some of the acid onto Jin Ye. And picked him up slammed him onto the ground. Jin Ye grimaced and pushed thru the pain. His broken bones and the pain of the acid was uncomfortable but he had been dead before. “You do not understand boy, I am immortal this acid may eat holes in my body and may even kill me but I will still awake in the morning alive and well. The acid finally burned out and my body healing as you do not have this capability I shall then be dancing on your grave.” The warrior smiled and then returned the hug his iron grasp entwining Thylath and his legs grasping him tightly.

Kane screamed as his arms burst into flame. His tanned armor began to burn. He drove his legs into the thing that he had thought was a woman. He hit it solidly his legs pummeling her backwards as he hit the ground and rolled driving his burning hands and arms under his body trying to desperately extinguish the flames. Fire he hates so much. Lachen and Jacob Kell moved towards Kane. They had heard him scream and knew that he had trouble. Jacob Kell smiled, Mcleod's friends would soon be dead as so many times before

Connor spun and weaved, the Kurrigan was growing stronger and the Highlander knew he had but one option. Quickly he switched his blade weaving it up and down the Kurrigan’s sword. The evil laugh fell upon his ears as Connor rode the blade down into his body, the blade twisting and turning effectively gutting him. Warm blood ran down Connor's back as he pulled his already tortured body thru the move. His mind stayed focused upon his enemy as he twisted his back upon the blade. Muscle split and bone grated against the huge blade but it did not matter as the Kurrigan realized what as occurring his laugh faded and he released his blade, too late as Connor completed the backhanded swing. Pins split from the head of the Kurrigan as once again Connor completed Ramirez’s cut from long ago. “THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!” Mcleod exclaimed as the head of the Kurrigan fell to the ground. Mcleod fell forward pulling the blade out of his body as lighting coursed and pulsed thru the land. Clouds shifted and the quickening came, power coursed thru the already tortured body of the Highlander bringing the Knowledge and the power of all that the Kurrigan had slain. Connor screamed as Lighting hit him, his body being carried up into the air. He fell and finally came into the sleep that he sorely needed. Not willingly but it simply was all that he could do. Kell would know was Mcleods last thought.

The very air shimmed in the vault below the battle. Eddies formed as power made small swirls thru the effervescence that was simply the air. The power built

Kianne slept a dark, dreamless sleep. Her body seemed still as death, not a breath left in her, but it was healing itself, reworking its tissue and mass, entwining muscle and rebuilding flesh. The poison wore off and faded away, unable to combat the high-speed regenerative properties of immortal flesh. Her wounds stopped bleeding, the openings sealed up and more blood was created to restore what she had lost. Silently her body's self-healing worked; it found the blade impaled in it to be a rather huge annoyance, but did its best to work around it. Organic enzymes worked to dissolve the metal of the sword; it would take some time, but the body had all the time it needed. Ki slept, unconscious of anything transpiring around her. If her body could complete its process at least enough that her breath could safely return to her, she would be able to wake. Until then, she drifted, unaware.

Leldorin thought deep and hard about his one wish. He knew what he should ask for, but selfishness and self-preservation made him choose. I'll take fast and total healing of wounds, mainly directed at myself but that I can channel to others. Leldorin was satisfied that this wasn't too much and would also help others. He didn't want to be too greedy. “And done,” cried the voice. “You have your ability, but know that you had healing before. When you had the power of sorcery awakened in you the healing powers came with it. How else do you think sorcerers stayed so healthy for so many eons thru pestilence and disease? The ability to heal others comes in the knowledge of anatomy. Merely use the sorcery to heal what is needed. Be well.” And with that the sense of presence and the shadowy figure were gone. The archer felt himself being sent back to where his guild mates were and he wondered if the fight was still going on. Having little time to think about it, he drew his bow and nocked an arrow. An instant later he found himself a few hundred yards from where he was before, hearing the fight continuing. Having a thought, he concentrated on his arrow and imbued it with something as an experiment. Moving forward slowly and soundlessly as several eons had taught him to do better than any other Ranger he had ever before encountered, he approached the battle. The first thing he saw was Unari laying on her back, seemingly on fire, and one of the enemy trying to douse his burning arms. Deciding this was an appropriate time to test the spell, he let loose the arrow and watched as it flew. Tasting satisfaction, Leldorin watched as the arrowhead expanded to become a yard-wide razor blade. The blade flew straight at the enemy and impacted hard against his neck, slicing as a hot knife through butter.

Thylath let loose a scream as his body slumped in Jin Ye's arms. He stepped out of his body and turned and looked at Jin Ye holding an empty shell. Summoning forth his energies given him by his god Thylath created a sword of pure energy and spirit. Drawing the blade back Thylath aimed for Jin Ye's neck. Swinging the blade with all his might Thylath exclaimed, "You seem to forget Jin Ye, I am death and death has come for you." Swinging his sword Thylath's blade cut through Jin Ye's neck. Sundering Jin Ye's immortal spirit from his body.

Unari hit the ground with a loud thud and then slowly stood. Her head cocked to the side as if listening to a whisper in her ear, she rose with her hands shoulder width apart and already glowing with power. Jacob Kell and Lachen reached a smoldering, headless Kane as Unari smiled. Between her hands were three growing, white-hot balls of fire. Flinging her hands and arms open wide, the fireballs sailed into Kane, Jacob Kell, and Lachen. The corpse burst into bright flame, as did the two immortals. Spotting Kianne with the blade still stuck in her back, Unari walked over to her and pulled it straight up and out. Fresh new blood spilled to the ground but as Unari watched it began to heal, just like. "CONNOR!!!!!!"

The immortals fell each caught by surprise as their power ebbed back into that which had spawned them. Time ebbed and flowed as it bent to Altrinus and his will. Each member of the watch was aware as the time stopped for they could feel their blood stop flowing and their breath catch in their bodies. They could not move or talk as they were all frozen in time. Altrinus rose up from the ground very slowly and then gently floated over to Unari her hands were still warm from the blast of her fireballs. “Hello Child, you realize that your power is great indeed that is why I need this,” he said as his clawed hand reached out and tore a piece of flesh off her left breast. The process was repeated with each member of the watch, and then as he faded the lich laughed and laughed his laughter continuing even after the spell wore off. And then they were all free, each bloodied and torn and left wondering.

Connor rolled over, his body ached and his mind was awash with the happenings. They had lost their mounts and their supplies in the run. Each member of the watch left standing had just a bit upon him or her and they were all bloodied. He directed that the healers begin and that the Rangers take to the wood to hunt. They would camp here tonight as what or who ever had wanted something from them had already taken it or had stopped them. Horses would be the problem indeed, and of course there were those that would not heal quickly. He found Unari and Kianne, the strange two women that had been with him for so long now, one his love and the other his dearest friend. They began a fire and settled down for the night.

Suddenly waking just to find someone had ripped a chunk off him, Leldorin became a bit surly. He was a bit surprised when he looked at the wound to see it closing up before his eyes. He remembered his new gift and then decided to take a look at his friends.
He walked around touching each in turn and watching as their wounds closed. He was truly amazed at how fast and effective it was.
Connor then asked him and the other rangers to head into the woods and be sure of what was around. Taking his longbow and mounting his ethereal horse, he headed out, not even noticing that anyone that didn’t have one of the translucent mounts was without a ride.

The tavern sighed again; Connor frowned across the warm room watching the surviving members of his party from afar. Unari had briefly gone upstairs to recover from the ride and the battle. It was all so disjointed and confused. At one moment the highlander had simply been in battle blades clanging as they had so many times before. And then to him what had seemed seconds passed but when he awoke all was done and over. He had herd the muttering among his men, he was not the only one that felt this. And after seven hard days on the trail with not much more then what they had been able to hunt, McLeod had called a halt. His men needed a bit of time, as did he. Once not so long ago McLeod had played the battle that was here before him, this plague and now the raiders that looked and acted like his men. The old Barons of Faerun were again hunting and somehow he thought that either he or the watch might be involved. It seemed so convenient that the perils of the outlying folk suddenly invoked diligence and now somehow the immortals were involved. There was much more here then just a plague. All he could hope is that the watch was not already decimated. They were all skilled warriors true and just, but they were few in number and for once Connor regretted his decision to leave as a Lord those long years ago. Now he waited here for the next three days. Giving his men and women a bit of a brief respite and some time. Hoping that others from the watch would take up the call. Perhaps the newest Company of the watch might send a few men if the could be spared, LT Moordoom seemed to be a good lad. Connor watched as the ale flew and Kianne spun about the floor. Peering this way and that he saw a few maids about; he covered his darting glances with a sip of wine. A shiver of delight trailed down his back as he realized that only Kianne and Unari knew how he really was at a tavern. Well now time to educate the rest of the lads. So Connor flirted and drank, but the Highlander was never without his sword and the Crest of Melikki still shining white upon his breast. Three days.

Momentarily bewildered she crouched in the shadows of a large tree adjusting her acute senses to the surrounds. The night air was crisp, and smelled faintly of smoke and in the distance sounds of laughter and music. Must be close to a settlement she reasoned. Following the sounds to the back of an Inn busy with patrons the ranger halted suddenly, flattening against the building in the shadows of the overhanging eves. Nearby bodies tumbled in the hay meant for feeding patrons horses. Likely one of them is having his fun with the bar maid, she stifled a snicker, and silently moved past them. Stepping into street she pulled her cowl back revealing the comely face of a blond woman in her mid twenty's, a bit slim and short for a human girl, the ranger was glad she hadn't taken the wizards advice and added a buxom to the equation or the bar maid might not be the only one locals had designs on for the hay pile. She really didn't wish to slit any throats while here. A small group of people approaching the tavern thick into boasting about some recent battle headed inside, she followed them easily inside, with half smiles to any onlookers. This disguise was perfect, or was it.
Conner eyes glancing around the room took notice of the stranger. Nothing about her looked particularly threatening, quite the
contrary, yet there was something out of place. The ranger spotted Conner sitting at a side table draining a mug and wondered how much he already had to drink. Moving to the bar she slipped a few gold coins to the bar keep for a couple of small goblets. Conner continued to study her overtly, the hair rising on the back of his neck, then it hit him, it was the way she moved. Her feet falling on the ball of her foot instead of the heel so completely natural to her it was barely noticeable, as if moving silently was simply part of life, just like a thief or a damn Drow! She turned and smiled at him, then reaching under her cloak into a pouch as she walked toward his table.

She remembered. "How long will you gone this time," the wizard inquired shaking his head in dismay. "You have much to do here," he injected before she could answer. "I don't know, but the closer you can send me..." she trailed off, then looked into his eyes, red even in the candle light. "I am not so important to the guild here they will not survive without me to invoke their predatory spirits for awhile." The wizard didn't seem to agree, but sighed and began the conjuration of the gate that would take his mate to another plane. Silently
she moved away giving him space for the gate, and began her own conjuration. Shape shifting had become second nature to her but
only two forms came easy, and neither would do. Moments later the gate glimmering before him he turned and grimaced at the sight of her new form. "Somehow I doubt Ty would consider that a form of worship" he scowled with distaste. "I don't have time to study anyone else, besides she doesn't need to know, can't seem to make myself taller though. Look a bit short for a human?" she shook her head in dismay, turning around to gather her supplies. His arms slipped around her waist and pulled her too him as he whispered in a language of the under dark, "perhaps you should augment a few other things while your at it," he chided. "What and give you images of having a night with Ty, I don't think so...." she turn around to face him, still wrapped in his embrace. "Or perhaps you think I should be a bit bustier in human form?" He grinned at her devilishly. "The idea is to NOT attracted undue attention, men..." her tone was scolding but lacked seriousness. "I’d best go before the gate fades..."

Seeing the human female approaching Conner's table, Thylath stood up and imposed himself in the way. "Is there anything I can help you with, M'lady?" The ranger stopped as this newcomer stepped between her and her view of Conner. Her green eyes drifted over him slowly, considering. This man was a seasoned warrior, the corded veins along his arms attested to a physical strength she
was in no mood to deal with directly. Her eyes drifted up to his glittering with a charm she needed no magic for. "Perhaps
you can," she intoned softly, her faced beaming with an innocent smile. With a mortal deftness she swept in close to him,
violating his personal space without actually touching him, her chin tilted up to whisper in his ear. "Your one of Lord
Conner’s men yes?" her breath was slightly cold on his neck, sent a chill down his spine. "He's a legend in my home...I...was hoping to share a drink with him," she feigned a blush momentarily letting her eyes drop. "Perhaps you could be so kind as to escort a lady to his table..." her voice faltered as though unsure, but she slipped her hand around taking his arm. Allowing the lady to take his arm, Thylath turned and looked upon her, “I would have your name M'Lady if I am to escort you to my Lord's Presence.” A name, she had to think quick, there was no point in a guise if she was just going to announce herself. Yet she needed to tip off Conner. “Angel, Angel Velve," she hoped Conner would catch the reference to her mates house name, and also hoped Thylath didn't understand the languages of the under dark. Biting her lip she cursed herself for never taking the time to teach Conner the silent langue of the Drow, it had so many uses.

A drow name, here in this place, obviously the girl did not notice the Elven features of her escort. Turning and drawing his blade Thylath leveled it at the throat of the woman, "who are you lady, that your name is of the evil race?" It was all she could do to contain the growing rage at Thylath’s accusation. "Races are not evil, people are evil," her voice was barely audible above the sounds of the tavern. The drawn blade had sparked attention from the rest of the tavern however, and heads where turning their way. "Would you strike me down in cold blood?" she kept her voice low, and made no attempt to move away or even defend her vulnerable neck. Feigning a giggle and above the clatter of the tavern now growing quiet at the threat of drawn steal she answered, "really M'lord, there are better ways to have what you will from a lady.” The crowd snickered with mirth and turned back to there mugs. Thylath held the blade steady and muttered a few words to his god, "Delron, show me the way of this woman, should I strike her down here and now or should I let her live?" Delaron? She recognized her mistake, but her interest in this man was sparked. How it came to be that a surface elf worshiped a drow god was a tail worth a bottle of the finest elven wine. Perhaps another time. Normally she would never have aloud such intrusion upon her aura by a stranger. There where easy was to prevent the spell from taking place, however such action would likely only have been seen as proof of evil to this one. Never quite sure if any particular god would shine favorable on her often dubious and pragmatic way of handling the ugly situations life had thrown her , the ranger was ready to take action. Slipping a parrying dagger from her bracer, she waited, carefully watching his reaction.

Connor had quite a few ales below his belt and to the untrained eye appeared quite drunk. He had watched Thylath and the interesting woman. Something nagged at the back of his mind about the lass something just out of his reach. A long memory indeed but one that perhaps might in time place this lass. He had heard her comments and as such watched the events transpire. They had moved towards him and as such he made a decision. He changed his angle thru the bar and passed towards Thylath. “Now lad that is not the way to get a woman’s trust or ever her eye... Might I be asking why ye see such a beautiful lass as a threat?” Connor gazed deeply into the eyes of the younger ranger. His steely eyes betraying his true condition and he waited.

Kianne lifted herself from her seat at a table a few paces away as soon as she noticed something was awry. Not being one prone to drink alcohol, she had been nursing a very weak cider and had all of her sharp wits about her. Instinct told her this girl, this woman, was not who she appeared to be, but Ki had no proof, no way to tell for sure and no spells of divination at all. Her cloak billowing out behind her, Kianne walked calmly closer, wondering as she did so if Thylath would back off or if this would turn into a battle.

Raising his head at the disturbance transpiring directly in front of his table, Gangresh looked up at the elven breeds and sneered. Standing a little more than four feet, Gangresh was a beholding sight. Strapped upon his unique scaled breastplate was what seemed to be a jeweled battle-axe of sorts. His beard was well-kept, awful standards for a normal dwarf, for he kept his beard short, about mid chest length. His hair reddened from past battles, was a deep brown, a darker color then his beard. Hanging from each earlobe were silver bars, earrings only a dwarf would wear. His hair was swept back into eight braids running straight from the front to back of his head, giving the appearance of ears of corn upon his head, which were all tightly held together and came to one large braid at the back of his neck by a silken cord. His pale blue eyes showed much distrust towards the elves. "Wou' ye blast'd weakbreeds take dis argument frum mah' table, und somewhar near da stables whar ye belong!" Flaring that his drinking was interrupted, Gangresh stared with deep hatred towards the elves.

Connor Mcleod, the man who had called forth unicorns from the forest and danced with dryads to learn their secrets, drew himself upright throwing off his drunken guise. The Ranger, who even in this land far from his exploits of old and was well respected indeed, spoke softly and waved others into silence while his words moved thru the air. The entire bar was now gazing on the rapidly growing scene and Mcleod did not want it going much further. “Aye now lads and lasses all this gabbling is not needful or desired.” Cocking his head towards the lass that Thylath held in his grip he addressed the woman directly, “You looked at me strangely when first I gazed towards ye. Have you seen me before, perhaps in my travels with Vicona?” As he spoke a leather-gloved hand gripped Thylath’s firmly. His eyes focused upon the young lad holding the lass, Thylath was no youth, a man of weathered features and battle-hardened strength. But as Connor spoke he understood that what was needed here was a bit of trust. There were many in the bar now and few of the Watch left after the beating that they had just taken.. Low on supplies and gold they had stopped here. Connor spoke with a joviality that he did not truly feel, “so lass what be your business with the Ranger named Connor Mcleod?” Resheathing his blade Thylath turned to his Lord and said, "M'Lord Connor, May I present to thee M'Lady Angel Velve, who is here to see thee." And with that Thylath slid to the side and out of obtrusiveness to the conversation.

It had been many years since she had seen Conner, he hadn't changed much, but then she knew he would not. A little
more weary perhaps. The ranger never took her eyes from Thylath till Conner had a firm grip on him. Thylath was an unknown; he had already proven he'd be quick to draw a blade at the slightest threat to his commander. "Aye M'lord we are, well aquatinted," the ranger beamed a crooked grin in Conner direction, and then noted Ki's approach. Her eyes brighten even more. So Ki had survived these years in Conner’s ranks, and not to worse for wear either from the look of it. Flipping the dagger deftly over in the air she sheath it back into its hidden slot within her bracer. The bracer wasn't really magic, nor the dagger, but a tinkered device fashioned by the gnomes of the realm she had just recently come from. It worked well, most of the time. "I brought news M'lord and a gift." Reaching into a pouch she pulled out a sealed bottle of very fine elven wine. "Elderberry, the finest Norrath has to offer, a prerequisite to any serious discussion as I recall," her tone reflected a bit of amusement at the recent turn of events.

Using the silent drow language she spoke to Thylath "We will spar another time if so wish," her tone was respectful but not
threatening. More than just wishing to placate this warrior, she interested to know just how far is knowledge went. "Do not leave, what I have to say may interest you all.” She overtly watched Thylath to see if he even noted the silent tongue. Thylath watched all that transpired between the two and noticed Angel using Drow Sign. Wait, she appears to be talking to me, ah the years have been many. “As you wish,” he answered back.

Still staring firmly at this elven pair, one who was called 'Angel', and another named 'Connor', The battle weary dwarf yelled for one of the wenches to bring him another round for him and his friends. Both of his friends seemed about the same age, but then again, who could tell with dwarves. The one to the left wore an eye patch over his right eye, his hair the same blood-matted color of his clansmen, as well as the same style, upon his unarmored shoulder was the symbol of a pickaxe upon a shield, the clans mark. The other dwarf had the same features minus the eye patch and his beard wasn't short, but there was no beard at all! These dwarven comrades were most definitely interesting.

Ki stopped at a respectful distance, near enough to hear plainly what was said, but not close enough for her manner to be deemed threatening or protective. She didn't appear to be the least bit uneasy or impatient, and in fact calmly crossed her arms over her chest and waited to learn what was going on. Angel tried to hide her elation when Thylath answered back. Few where she had just come from used the languages of the under dark, even among the drow. But then Norrath had many oddities among the denizens.

Conner first offered his arm to lead them back to his table but she stopped him. "If you will M'lord I've made
arrangements for a more private room." She indicated a door going into an adjacent room about one quarter the size of the main
hall. Three large tables took up most of the space; a fire was being lit by one of the drudges in the large hearth on the center wall. A bar maid hustled in and out with pitchers of mead and plates of spiced meats and potatoes. "Invite your men, and ladies M'lord there is plenty for all." Noting the grumbling dwarves evil glares, she waved to the bar keep, "A round of drinks for our friends here would be in order, the least we could do for disturbing your eve." She winked at the one in the middle glaring with such ferocity, then
turned back to Conner as soon as the bar keep was busying about her order "Har lass! Free Ale always be welcom'd by mah' friends und ah'" The dwarves faces relaxed, and after a few moments of speaking, they decided that these elves might not be as bad as they had first thought. With a wistful, but polite bow, Gangresh and his brothers returned to their drinking.

“Elderberry wine lass, and your own private room. Now I would be knowing why ye have come here and what ye be needing from the watch? Pray excuse me lass for not taking ale or wine with ye most immediately but the last few weeks have been a most trying time indeed. I have come here with ye to find what yer message is and although ye are most pleasing to any eye. It has often been proven that those things that are most beautiful are indeed most deadly. So again lass what need ye of me and mine,” Connor inquired. She couldn't help it; a wide smile was growing as she fought to stifle giggles. "You mean to tell me after all these years you
finally gotten some sense about ya? When last we rode together you where charging off to wrong swords ablaze with the entire ranger brigade in your wake while I rode along behind wondering how many would die for the sake of some foolish maid looking to prove her wiles were worth the blood of good men." Angel quickly sobered however unsure how Conner’s men would react to the accusation. Hopefully Conner’s memory was jarred. The ranger knew she was in a difficult situation. She could not polymorph back into her natural form in fount of onlookers, the sight of which would draw blades faster than Thylaths, nor did she care for those outside Conner’s own men to know she was about. She was quite unsure even where they were in relation to plane, and realm. There had been many reasons for the guise; her last visit had launched a war with Soth’s minions killing thousands. Taking a deep breath she looked squarely at Conner. "Ye can not have forgotten me M'lord, I served under you for many many years in both Never Winter and Britannia, it has been a few years..." Connor nodded for Thylath and the others to move to positions within the Inn. “Neverwinter Lass? I know of no Drow from Neverwinter and Soth that is not a name to be taken lightly. It has only been a few years since the accusations of that death knight forced me to leave a place that I called home for a long time and my wife Unari has never truly healed from the beating that monster gave her. Served me? Lass no one ever served me I have had many comrades over the years, but the only drow that I ever traveled with was Vicona, so lass you'll have to convince me a bit more. Although your visions of my youth do indeed excite my mirth fear not your words, the lads here will not spill your blood over mere words or thoughts lass. Convince me that you are not a danger to this kingdom or a agent of our enemies.” Her eyes narrowed, as Conner’s men moved into defensive positions. "I see ya have also grown senile. I am no drow, though I have spent the last few years in the company of many born to the under dark." Shaking her head she lapsed into thought for a moment. " Aye M'lord we served at least what we thought to be the greater good thru you, and many of us would have followed you to the depths of the Abyss if there was cause..." She glanced at Ki " and I see some of them still do," she trailed off back into thought. Proof was a difficult thing to come due to the fact that the ranger had been many years in another land. Her armor barely visible under her cloak was an odd make of fine green mesh chain mail of a metal these people had likely never heard of. The symbol she wore around her neck was that of Tunare, Melikki's manifestation in Norrath. It was unlikely Connor or any here would recognize the symbol. She sighed deeply then making a decision of which apparently didn't sit too well with her. "If it be proof ya want then ye shall have it Lord Connor of the Green," never quite having a home for which the band she now roamed and fought beside, the ranger had grown accustomed to caring most of their possessions in magical containers that looked like ordinary backpacks and pouches. The properties of which kept them safe from damage unless it was destroyed outright.
Carefully opening one of them she drew out a long and narrow box about 18 inches long and 6 inches wide and deep wrapped with much care in a soft fur. Gingerly pulling back the fur to reveal the front of a crystal box, she turned it so Conner could see its contents. Inside was what one could tentatively call a rose in full bloom. However the evil artifact swirled with blue and black colors in chaotic fashion reflecting the mind of creator. The rose had been a gift to Averyl from the deamon Rackir, one she couldn't bring herself to part with or destroy. Pulling the cover back over the box she then slipped the glove off her left hand revealing the wound the thorns had caused those many years ago, one that would not fully heal. Her little finger still marred a faint blue and black as though bruised. "Now will ye come have a drink with me Lord Connor, we have much to catch up on?"

There were few times in Connor's life when he felt that events had passed him by. In the last few days he had felt this way many times, ever since leaving the Rangers and moving out into the lands Connor had felt a bit lost, he knew that many still followed him but he was not even sure where he was going. Now was another such time, there were few indeed that had followed him for a long time, Kianne and of course Unari had, but from the time before the Great Cataclysm there were none of those left at least so Connor thought, as he glanced at the rose he thought of a time from long long ago. The world shimmered for a moment as Connor's thoughts became visible.

In a secret glade in the depths of the woods of Britannia, Connor the Ranger Lord knelt before a sterling white unicorn akin to the one on his sword hilt. With little hesitation, Melikki, the goddess of the wood, spoke. "Connor, a great evil approaches the land, one where your Rangers will again be sorely tested. Prepare, Ranger Lord, for there are dark days ahead. Soth has returned and his power is great. For your next task, you will have to call upon all your timeless knowledge and your power of the forest itself. Do not let fear enter you heart, nor allow your feelings for those who are close to you blind your faith. Your time is now, Connor." With those last words the voice and the unicorn were gone like the words upon the wind. Connor mounted his horse, Symphony, and began to ride nonstop toward distant Trinsic and the Rangers, whom he loved and cherished, to again prepare for the battle of good versus evil.
The wind reminded him of much, but during his Commune with Melikki, Averyl had reinforced the Rangers in Trinsic providing them with much needed leadership and supplies. Connor flashed back to the bar with a simple whisper he uttered one word, “Averyl?” A smile slowly spread over her faces, eyes dancing with amusement as realization came over Conner " Aye M'lord." The smile quickly faded however, Avy sucking in her breath wincing as stabs of pain shot up her left arm. The artifact called to her promising to stop the pain if only she would release it from the box, visions of power and grandeur filling her head. Carefully wrapping the box back in it protective cover, she slid it back into the magic pouch. The wicked thing packed safely away, Avy involuntary shuddered shacking off the mental attack. Glancing down at her hand she grimaced, the blackish blue color had spread over half her hand, strengthening the blood bond with the thorned rose. Self-conscience she slipped her glove back on covering up the poisoned infection no cleric could heal. "Please M'lord, there is food and drink awaiting us," she glanced at the side room who's hearth was now a blaze with a warm inviting fire. Connor motioned to the rest of the watch to join them as he followed Averyl into the small warm room.

The Ranger was ever attentive to detail however as he motioned to Thylath to take up a position where he could watch the door and perhaps cover anything that might happen. After all it would not do to be caught again not paying attention. Connor sighed as he watched a paid cook set two bloody slabs of lamb to cook, he nodded to the man and watched as he left the room. He then nodded to Averyl, “so lass what has brought you this far from your plane to mine after all these years? You have indeed picked a trying time to visit Faerun as the ruling family is in disarray. Glasineths a strange sort of creature have attacked the king and his family. The Watch was given information about these beasts and set upon a mission to find out about them and a plague that has been ravaging our lands. As you look about you these few warriors are most of what is left for this task. I cannot believe that you have come here to help with this mission as I have not even truly been aware of where ye went when you left the last time, in fact had you not shown me the rose I would still be suspicious of you and as a should of good faith and to honor our friendship I now welcome you both as friend and sister.” The Ranger intently stared at his “old friend” although he was almost sure she was indeed who she claimed to be the last few days had been strange at best. So he waited, he knew Averyl and after all this time patience was not one of her greatest virtues. Avy listened intently about the lord of Faerun and the current state of affairs. "Aye M'lord, I did not even know what plane I would find ye on. I've no information on the political unrest here, it is unfortunate."

As the last of the cooks left and the door was closed, Avy lifted her hood back over her head concealing her face within
the cowl for all save Connor who she was facing. The polymorph back to her natural form was an easy one but the sight of the flesh in state of changed tended to unnerve others. Slightly weekend for the moment, she pulled the cloak away revealing her true form. Avy was very much elf, with long reddish brown locks and green eyes. As with most elves, her age was very hard to tell. Dressed in green chain mail ornate with runes, its magical nature very apparent, Avy was a sight that would turn heads anywhere. A pair of swords sheath at her side also screamed of ancient powerful magic. "Norrath Connor, an interesting land indeed. I have spent the last few years searching for the best steel and magic and those with the skill to weld it, honing my skills at their side. I had not forgotten you however, and have ways of keeping somewhat up to date on your movements. Phaenon has always been quite an asset," Avy smirked at Connor knowing his distaste for the pragmatic dark elf. Moving to the table nearest the fire, she uncorked the bottle of elven wine and pored a couple of goblets. Closing her eyes to saver the rich flavor of the wine she sat down with her back to the fire. She indicated the other goblet to Connor but paid no mind to whether he took it or not. Reaching into another pouch she pulled out a long narrow bone case and unscrewed the end sliding out a number of scrolls. Carefully weighting down the corners with nearby dishes so the map could be viewed, Avy sat back and waited for Connor to join her, watching the relative curiosity of his men. Connor watched as Averyl spread out the map. It was drawn in a beautiful hand and had a mixture of languages on it, some were elvish but some were others. Strange hands he had not seen in a long time. “Well now Averyl, as ye well know, I have ventured to Norrath from one and again. So what is this place that I see on these maps and more so lass, how does it involve me,” then the Ranger as old as he was gave a small jump for there on the center of one of the maps was a place that had long eluded him and many others. The fabled city of Tir Na Nog perhaps thought Connor to himself I am misreading this.

The map seemed to radiate with a small soft glow that expanded to cover the entire room. As it faded Connor, whose name in the transition had become Altinus, was standing in a village square. Many people were about, and the land was new. Drawing forth his blade he held it to the sky and proclaimed, “The Royal Black Watch swears to protect this land!” Looking around him he noticed Thylath and Ghoeste, whose name had been changed to Hempis, standing there but many of the others seemed to be long in coming. “Very well lads,” Altinus said, “let us prepare this land for the Watch’s arrival and let us recruit those who are strong of heart and have the valor to uphold the virtues of the Royal Black Watch.”