A full day of hiking, whilst keeping a wary watch out for patrolling gülvini, eventually wore the edge off the sense of immense awe that had shaken the Hand since their meeting with the powerful ice dragon Ulsarinas.
As the sun sank below the shortened horizon of the mountains the group stopped near a sheltering outcrop of granite just below the tree line and set up camp. Taeland estimated that this was their last night before reaching the heights above Rekorgo. The routine of making camp further calmed the group nerves, and by the time the last watch woke the others, just before dawn, everyone seemed back to their usual selves.
Except, perhaps, Mariala. As she went about rolling up her blankets and eating the cold breakfast Devrik had pulled together she seemed short-tempered and distracted.
“I’m cranky,” she snapped when Vulk mentioned it. “It happens, get over it!”
After that the rest of the Hand gave her some space.
Soon enough they were on their way, just as the sun crested the eastern mountain behind them. It was barely an hour later that they heard a commotion from up ahead – the sounds of men grunting and the clash of steel on steel. Or, to the more trained ears amongst them, iron on steel.
They were still hugging the tree line, and the group moved into combat formation at a signal from Devrik, creeping stealthily through the thin, stunted alpine forest. As they neared the site of what was obviously a skirmish, Vulk commanded his falcon Cherdon to fly ahead, strengthening the psychic link they shared so as to see what he saw. Toran silently took on the increasingly familiar task of guiding the cantor along while his perceptions were split. After a moment Vulk motioned for the group to stop, and they all pulled together.
“There’s a large boulder just ahead, beyond this next rise,” he said quietly, with the distracted air his companions knew meant he was still looking through the bird’s eyes. “There’s a small clearing around its foot, and eight men… Umantari… have their back to it, fighting what looks to be… at least a dozen gül-Gramlini. From the looks of it, the men made camp there last night… I don’t see any men down yet… but no gülvini down, either… oh, one of the humans just took a nasty cut to his arm!”
“Whatever’s going on here,” Devrik said decisively, “it’s obvious which side we’re going to come in on. I assume there’s no objection to our tipping the scales here?”
There was none, the only comment coming from Taeland, as he strung an arrow to his bow. “If we’re going to do this we have to make sure none of the gülvini escape to give warning.”
In less than two minutes the group was in position just east and north of the boulder, where they could see some of the fight through the slender poles of the pines. Taeland and Jeb scrambled up the sloping back of the three meter high rock, while Toran circled around to come at the fight from the west, and Erol and Therok did the same to the south. Devrik simply drove in from the west, battlesword swinging.
In the first seconds of their attack, before either the gülvini or the humans were aware of their presence, they killed or crippled half of the beastmen – two went down with Taeland’s arrows in them, a third took an arrow in the eye from Jeb; another was felled by a bolt from Toran’s crossbow, and a fifth was taken in the back by a shot from Erol’s longbow.
Devrik, glowing faintly with Vulk’s mystical armor, which the cantor had blessed him with in passing, clove a sixth gül almost in half just as it was aiming to finish off the wounded human. Mariala, her view of the battle truncated by trees and the rock, took out a seventh Gramlini warrior with Fire Nerves. While Korwin cast Cloak of Merthados on himself and stayed out of the fight, Therok drove his own blade through the belly of yet another gülvini.
Momentarily shocked at the sudden help, the beleaguered humans paused to stare dumbly at their good fortune. They quickly took renewed heart, however, at seeing so many of their enemies fall, and redoubled their own attack. In a moment the remaining foulspawn were dead, save for one who dashed off, jinking and dodging into the woods, shrieking.
Without apparently turning to look Taeland, still atop the boulder, loosed another arrow from his bow. The creature’s cries where cut off in a sudden gurgle as the shaft pierced his throat. The tall woodsman gave an enigmatic half-smile and uttered a pithy quip that broke the tension and had everyone laughing.
But the laughter was short-lived, as the men whom the Hand had just aided realized they were now surrounded by the newcomers, two of whom held the high ground – and with ranged weapons, something the gülvini patrol had lacked. It was obvious the men were trained fighters, perhaps a mercenary company, although what they were doing this far into the wilderness was a mystery to the Hand.
Before tensions could get too high, one of the men stepped forward, sheathing his sword and holding his hands out in a gesture of peace. He was dark haired, of middle height, with a short beard… and rather good looking both Mariala and Vulk thought, privately. He was clearly better dressed then the others, and so either their captain or their employer.
“You have our thanks, my friends,” the man said, scanning the faces before him, and lighting on Devrik as the presumed leader. “I have no doubt my men would have defeated the gülvini eventually, but it would likely not have been without losses… your surprise attack saved some lives!
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jardath Genóra, a merchant of Zhuran in Tharkia. This is my… factotum and right-hand-man, Berik Kithül.” Smiling, he indicated a shorter, stockier man with sandy hair and green eyes who stood just to his left and a step behind. Berik acknowledged the introduction with the barest nod of his head and no change to his wary experession. “These other men are mercenaries we’ve hired to… see us to our destination.”
Devrik, who had not yet re-sheathed his own sword, although he held it casually over his shoulder, nodded and smiled back. At the same time, he gave the subtle hand signal to Vulk and Mariala that they should fire up their arcane truth-sensing abilities.
“My name is Devrik. My companions and I are… travelers ourselves, passing through these mountains.” He named each of the other eight companions, but only by given name, and offered no further explanation of their presence. “It seems odd to find a merchant so far from the usual trade routes… how came you to the predicament we found you in?”
Berik looked like he wanted to ask the same question of the Hand, but his employer forestalled him, holding up a hand, his smile never wavering. “A fair question, friend, although I might ask the same of you… but I think Fortune may have brought us together.” If he noticed the slight start that Vulk gave, he showed no indication of it.
“We are here, in this Immortal’s-forsaken wilderness, on a mission of mercy! And if you have any human kindness in you, perhaps you will join your force to ours, to achieve our end.” Behind him, Berik relaxed a fraction, although his face settled into a rather sour expression.
“Perhaps we might,” Vulk replied, stepping up to stand next to Devrik. “But we’d need to know a little more than that before we could decide. Tell us your tale.”
“It’s simple enough,” Jardath said. “My beloved fiancé, Karina Mazálon, was traveling north along the Talorin Trail on business a tenday past. The caravan she was traveling with, for safety’s sake – ha! – was attacked by a horde of gül-Gramlini. The monsters were driven off, eventually, but not without loss of life… and, when the dust had settled, my beloved Karina had vanished!
“Her body was not found, and although no one could say for certain that she’d been carried off, it must have been so. It is not an uncommon practice of the beastmen of Rekorgo to take hostages, if they believe a victim to be wealthy, and to demand ransom–”
“Have you received such a ransom demand?” Mariala asked sharply, also stepping forward to stand with Vulk and Devrik.
“No,” admitted the merchant, reddening slightly. “But I immediately consulted a well-respected medium in Zhuran, a psychometric of some repute. After handling one of Karina’s, um, possessions she assured me my love was still alive, but being held prisoner in the hive at Rekorgo!”
Mariala and Vulk both noted that the man’s henchman, Berik, rolled his eyes a bit at this point, but said nothing to gainsay his master.
“I immediately sent Berik to secure the best company of mercenaries available in the city, and set out at once to rescue Karina.”
Devrik made no comment about the likely quality of such mercenaries, given both the civil unrest and the actual war Tharkia was currently fighting. “And now, on the very doorstep of that vile place, we encounter you – very clearly men, um, people, of some prowess. If you were to join us –”
“I’m sorry,” Devrik interrupted this time, his brows crawling upward skeptically, “but you planned to take on the largest colony of gülvini in the Savage Mountains (even if they are only Gramlini) with six mercenaries, a merchant’s factotum, and yourself? Are you insane?!”
Jardath’s flush deepened, and he frowned, while Berik lightened with a barely suppressed a smirk. “I am most certainly NOT insane, sir! I realize that an army, even if I could hire one, would likely fail to take Rekorgo. And if it could, Karina would almost certainly die before any frontal assault succeeded.
“No, I have another way in, one that depends on stealth and minimum force, precisely applied. The medium told me of a secret entrance, one that should… will take us close to Karina.”
The Hand looked at one another in varying degrees of skepticism and calculation. If they could truly find a back door into the colony…
“And did your medium give you an exact location for this hidden entrance?” Mariala asked, eyes narrow with suspicion.
“Well, in general terms, certainly,” the merchant replied. Berik actually snorted at that, and Jardath shot him a quelling glare. The lieutenant shrugged unrepentantly, but resumed his stoic expression. “I tried to get the woman to accompany us, to more precisely pinpoint this route, but no amount of… persuasion would convince her to take the risk. However, her description was surprisingly detailed – you know how vague these psychic sorts usually are – and I feel certain that, with a little time and effort, we can find it!”
Both Vulk and Mariala gave the subtle hand cues that told the others that the man was speaking qualified truth, if perhaps not all of it. Devrik frowned, and thought for a moment.
“Well, you have wounds to tend to amongst your men,” he said at last. “While you see to that, and break your camp, we’ll discuss your proposal.”
The discussion was short, but heated. Although both Vulk and Mariala sensed some reticence in the merchant’s words, they detected no outright lies. And as weak as the man’s plan sounded, it was still better than anything the Hand had come up with yet. After some back-and-forth about just scouting the area vs. actually penetrating what might be Captain Chaos’ very headquarters, it was Mariala’s firm vote to align themselves with the merchant and his mercenaries that carried the day.
As his men finished breaking camp Jardath approached them again once it was obvious they’d reached a decision. He seemed pleased with their acceptance, but blanched a bit, and hesitate for just an instant, when Korwin asked to see whatever item the medium had used to locate Karina.
“I have a bit of a talent in that direction myself,” Korwin explained modestly, providing his own companions with an opportunity for some eye-rolling of their own. He put the man’s brief hesitation down to the fact that the item in question turned out to be a rather sheer undergarment of the most intimate type.
Concealing a hint of embarrassment himself, Korwin fingering the sheer fabric… and felt the subtle shift in perception that heralded a vision… he saw a woman, very attractive, but looking very angry and… frustrated. She appeared to be… underground… angry and afraid… gülvini all around her… His perception shifted, pulling suddenly away from the woman… up a dark shaft… into an alpine clearing… a large stone plug…
The trance ended, and he slowly shook his head. Jardath frowned, his hand absently going to the pommel of his sword, but then looked relieved when Korwin described his vision.
“Yes, the stone plug, the clearing,” the merchant exclaimed. “That’s exactly how Madame Verney described it to me! Can you find it?”
“I think so,” Korwin replied slowly. “I at least have a strong sense of the direction, anyway. I’ll try again when we get closer.”
The Hand and their new allies followed Korwin as he and Taeland led the way closer to Rekorgo and whatever fate awaited them.
Which, in the event, turned out to be a great stone chimney rising from the ground near the edge of a sheer precipice. The cliff overlooked the long valley leading to the main gates of Rekorgo, and crouching behind the boulders and scrub along its edge Taeland and Erol had the perfect vantage point to study the enemy’s external defenses. Therok, Jeb and Berik joined them, while the others examined the chimney and debated its merits as a possible entry into the colony – despite the thick black smoke pouring out of it, no doubt from the forges of the gülvini smiths.
The Vale of Rekorgo ran north-south, and the small group of observers were perched atop the eastern cliffs. To their left the vale opened out into a much wider valley, and a high palisade of immense logs arced across the narrowest part of the mouth, cliff face to cliff face. A single massive gate of oak and iron pierced the wall were the old stone road crossed it, leading north through the narrowing vale to the Main Gate.
To their right the Main Gate was clearly visible, its own massive stone doors standing more than half closed in the midday sun. Several guards stood sentry at the Gate, and even from a distance their surly body language made it clear this was not a favored duty. But the gülvini who guarded the palisade gate, and manned the two small, wooden towers that flanked it just inside the barrier, appeared even more unhappy with their jobs. They all did their best to stay out of the direct sunlight. No one seemed to be guarding the large corral in the center of the vale, against the western cliff, that contained the colony’s threescore of goats and handful of cattle.
Before the watching group could do more than note these facts, however, there came a faint noise from the south, growing steadily louder, resolving into the sound of many iron-shod feet marching. As they crouched further down and peered to the left a troop of Black Güls swung around an arm of the mountain and into view.
There were two score of them, and they seemed to have no fear, or even dislike, for the pale autumn sunlight. They marched in fairly good order, for a gülvini pack, and their leader actually rode a horse. The sight of them caused quite a stir amongst the smaller gül-Gramlini at the palisade gate, bringing them all to the alert. Spears were thrust forward and the four in the watch towers cocked and leveled their cross-bows at the approaching group.
But to the watcher’s surprise, no alarm was raised. Instead one of the Rekorgo güls, probably the captain of the guard, climbed up to the narrow walkway on the inside of the palisade and called down to the mounted leader as he neared the gate. The gül-Hovguvai leader signaled his men to stop, and returned the guard captain’s greeting.
Being of separate sub-species, they were forced to use the common tongue of the North, Esparic, but distance and fickle mountain winds made it difficult for the allied watchers to make out much of the conversation. Tone and body language came through well enough, though, and while the two sides clearly bore little love for one another, they were also clearly not enemies. At least not at first.
After an initial relatively calm exchange, the tone began to grow more hostile, and the volume louder. Taeland’s extraordinary hearing allowed him to pick out some of the argument, when the wind blew favorably. He caught the big gül’s demand that the Gramlini “turn over the female,” and the guard captains sneering denial; what sounded like a name, Avira, came up a moment later, along with the word Jha-Kusk, which he recognized as the name of the most remote gülvini colony in the Savage Mountains.
The Hovguvai leader was becoming increasingly furious at the guard captain’s refusal to open the gate, and his bass roars of “treason” and “traitorous cur” could be heard by everyone on the clifftop. But before he could take any more decisive action there was a sudden and violent shift in the standoff – one of the Gramlini in the eastern watchtower shifted his aim, and shot his own captain through the neck.
As the erstwhile commander clutched at the arrow and toppled over the wall, two of the Gramlini on the ground attacked three of their comrades, while a third rushed to open the gate. One of the guards in the western tower shot the gül who’d murdered their captain, only to be knifed in the back by his companion. As the Black Güls poured through the open palisade gate the guards at the Main Gate finally realized something was wrong. An order to close the doors was apparently given, but was stymied when several of the guards instead attacked their fellows.
Erol motioned the group to move slowly back, and they retreated to the shelter of the chimney, where their companions had finally noticed the commotion in the vale below. “If we’re going to enter this filthy place,” he said after Taeland had relayed what he’d heard, “there’s never going to be a better time than now, with internal fighting and an external raid.”
“And I know how to get us in,” Korwin said, wandering up with Karina’s camisole clutched in one hand. While the others had been arguing over the chimney he had tried another go with his psychometry, and had meandered into the sparse woods nearby. “Or at least I’ve found the door. Not sure how to open it, though.”
He lead the group to the clearing he’d discovered, and the circular stone plug set into the ground in the center of it. It had been polished smooth, once upon a time, but was now pitted with age. A small circle in the very center was inset slightly, but no apparent mechanism for opening the barrier was obvious.
Toran spent several fruitless minutes examining the stone, and assured his friends there was no mechanical method to open it, at least not from the outside. At that point Mariala cast a Detect Magic spell, and confirmed that the plug was magically bound. Both she and Korwin attempted to Dispell the enchantment, but it proved itself both old and strong.
As the group stared glumly at the obstacle messing up all their plans, Vulk suddenly hissed out a warning. “Cherdon sees three Hovguvai moving up the slope towards us from the south!”
Under Taeland’s direction the group scattered to conceal themselves amongst the nearby trees and boulders. A few minutes later the lightly armored Black Güls entered the clearing and made a bee-line to the stone plug.
Muttering something to his companions, making them laugh harshly, one of the beastmen pulled a small silver disk from his belt pouch. One of his companions sniffed loudly, then said something to the apparent leader, who he snapped back a curt reply. Unfortunately, they were speaking in their racial tongue, which none of the hidden watchers spoke.
The gül leader placed the metal disk into the depression in the center of the stone, and muttered a word no one could quite make out. Vulk, crouching behind a large boulder with Mariala, quietly urged her to use her Comprehend Languages spell to understand what was going on, but she impatiently waved him to silence, intent on the action around the plug.
The gül stepped back and the stone slowly began to sink into the ground, then gently pivot into a sunken slot, one edge becoming the top step of a spiral stairway descending down into darkness. The Hovguvai wasted no time in starting down the stairs, mangs drawn and bodies tense in anticipation of battle.
Korwin, who had been closest to the action, having cast Shadow Body on himself, signaled the others when the güls were out of sight and beyond hearing. A hushed, hurried conference quickly decided the marching order for the pursuit, everyone agreeing that the güls were very likely to lead them straight to the beleaguered Karina. Surely she must be the “woman” their leader had demanded.
Taking one last look over the cliff edge before descending, Vulk reported that a full fledged civil war seemed to have broken out amongst the gül-Gramlini, with half aiding the Hovhuvai interlopers against their fellows. Jeb was left behind to guard their retreat, with Cherdon soaring above to give early warning on any other approaching enemies.
The circular stone stairs wound down into dimness for at least 30 meters, ending in what was presumably a secret door, although it was currently ajar. The room beyond the door was spacious, for an ancient Khundari chamber, but could barely contain the 16 invaders now jostling for position in it.
It was obviously the Rekorgo Gramlini king’s chamber, a wild mix of luxury and decay, typical of gülvini leadership living spaces. As the mercenaries and more martial Hand members organized themselves to follow the three gül-Hovguvai, Korwin and Vulk took the time to rummage about the room, looking for clues and/or valuables.
Following the güls was little trouble, as a shriek from across the hall was a dead giveaway. Bursting into the room, Devrik and Berik saw two Gramlini corpses bleeding out on a lovely Tolusian carpet, and heard a deep, savage voice coming from beyond the doorway in the east wall… “Now we’re gonna have some fun wit chu, bitch!”
Shouldering past Devrik and Berik, Erol and Toran followed Taeland through the doorway to find an attractive woman, presumably the kidnapped Karina, being menaced by the three gül-Hovguvai – two of whose mangs dripped red with blood (threatening to ruin another beautiful carpet), while the third stalked forward, undoing the ties to his breeks.
Karinia’s mouth opened, no doubt to scream in terror Erol thought, but simply hung open as she blinked at the men pouring into the chamber. Taeland’s sword took the would-be rapist gül through the back, severing his spine and killing him instantly, while Toran’s battle axe gouged a bloody chunk from the side of one of the others. Erol failed to make the trifecta, unfortunately, as his trident thrust at the third gül was hastily blocked.
Mariala, trying to shoulder through the crush of men attempting to all rush into the room at once, made a valiant effort to Fire Nerve the two surviving güls, but the confusion and chaos were not conducive to a successful casting, and she was forced to let the energies dissipate and the form fade out before it all backfired on her. She never wanted to experience that again!
Toran’s opponent swung wildly at him with his mang, missing by a country kilometer, while the Khundari’s counterstrike took another chunk out of him. But the creature was tough, and refused to die. Erol’s opponent was more successful in his attack, wounding the former gladiator with a nasty slash to the thigh, forcing him to stagger back.
But Toran brought a quick end to it all by delivering a final killing blow to his gül, and nearly gutting Erol’s foe on the follow-through. Both Hovguvai collapsed to the now thoroughly ruined carpet, while a breathless Jardath burst through the men crowding the doorway.
“Karina, my love, I’ve come to rescue you!”
Mariala, coming in close behind him through the gap he’d made in his men, saw the look on the woman’s face, and frowned in confusion. Karina looked at once amazed, slightly confused… and enraged? Wait, that didn’t seem right…
“Jardath,” the woman said at last, regaining control of her features. “How… surprised I am to see you here!” She fingered the large, ugly ring on her left hand, then let it go. Jardath rushed forward to embrace her… and impaled himself on the dagger that she suddenly thrust forward in a blindingly fast move. He staggered back, blood gushing from the wound in his gut, a look of utter shock on his suddenly pale face. Oddly, he struggled to pull the hood of his cloak up, trying to say something… but only blood poured forth, and he collapsed at his erstwhile lover’s feet.
Everyone was rooted for a few crucial seconds, stunned at this unexpected turn, with the exception of Berik, who muttered “I told the idiot, but would he listen? No!” as he shouldered forward through his mercenaries.
“Well, that was every bit as satisfying as I’d imagined it would be,” Karina said, apparently to herself. “And here I thought I’d missed my chance at the pig!
“As for the rest of you,” she went on, turning her attention to the crowd before her, “you’re all going to do your very best to get me safely out of this pit, aren’t you?” She fingered her ring as she spoke, projecting clearly to both those in the room and those in the antechamber beyond.
And Mariala, who had been mentally preparing her Fire Nerve spell, suddenly realized that she was, indeed going to help this poor woman escape. Clearly, Jardath had been some sort of creepy stalker, and his death was no doubt richly deserved.
Taeland, standing closest to the startlingly beautiful woman, lowered his sword as he, too realized that he was going to do anything he had to to ensure her safety and escape… although some small voice deep inside was saying “wait, what?!” He ignored it, and turned to scan the room, looking for any enemies of his lady.
Vulk, in the antechamber doorway, felt a sudden realization dawn on him that there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to help this amazing woman escape, and to keep her from harm. And in this sudden illumination, he realized that she looked exactly like some of the idealized images he’d seen in temples of Immortal Kasira… surely Karina was the very avatar of the Lady of Luck herself… even the names were similar!
Berik, his dagger already drawn, paused as he shoved past Devrik. What had he been thinking? Of course Karina had been right to kill that fool Jardath! He had never been worthy of her! In fact, he knew in a sudden flash of inspiration, she’d done it out of love for him, Berik… the two of them belonged together… and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen!
And in the antechamber half of of the mercenaries and the Hand’s pet barbarian Therok also had sudden epiphanies concerning the utter desirability of protecting the beautiful lady in the other room… if her face was even half as beautiful as her voice, they’d be in heaven!
Everyone else in both rooms felt a momentary pressure in their heads, then shook it off, snorting, harrumphing or sneering in derision at the very idea they’d ever help this murderous wench! Except maybe Erol, who at first was swayed by the lady’s commands, only to have the other half of his personality bitch-slap him back to his senses.
“I don’t think so, lady,” Toran snorted. “But we do have some questions for you, and you’re gonna sing!”
But as he started forward Vulk suddenly leapt at him from the doorway, attempting to tackle him from behind. Surprised by the attack from such an unexpected quarter, the Khundari’s Shadow Warrior-trained instincts nonetheless kicked in. With a jumping spin kick to the knee he deflected his friend, who collapsed groaning to the floor, clutching his leg.
At the same time the uncontrolled mercs started toward the door to the inner chamber, only to be attacked by their besotted comrades, while Therok, surprisingly gently, restrained Korwin.
Inside the well-appointed (at least before all the gülvini blood had started flying) bedchamber, Mariala and Taeland moved to place themselves between Karina and any threat from the gathered men. Berik moved to join them, but before he could reach the three Erol had pulled out his magic balls and set them twirling in the air in the middle of the room.
As the spinning crystal spheres sent out their rays of colorful, mesmerizing light Vulk looked up and straight at them… and immediately forgot the pain in his knee, along with everything else. Berik, too, looked full on at Erol’s balls and became instantly entranced. Mariala managed to turn her gaze away from the orbs before she could be fully mesmerized, but stood dazed and slightly befuddled, while Taeland ignored the strobing lights completely… his focus remained entirely on his lady.
With Mariala and Taeland guarding her back, the Hand’s would-be rescuee turned to the wall behind her, hands darting quickly to several stones, tapping and twisting. With a sharp “snik” a hidden door popped open. Looking to see how the chaos in the room was developing, Karina smiled and commanded her two nearest slaves to follow her, only to frown in annoyance as the still dazed Mariala just looked around confusedly. Mariala was certainly more her type, but with a shrug Karina settled for just the half-Telnori hunk, dragging him through the door and slamming it behind them.
Meanwhile, Korwin, who had shaken off and eluded Therok’s attempts at restraint had darted into the room. Realizing that Mariala was the most dangerous of his friends to have been somehow controlled, he immediately cast his Drunken Hand spell on her, hoping it would be enough to keep the damn Fire Nerves out of play.
Just as she was beginning to come out of the mental fog caused by Erol’s mesmerizing balls, Mariala found herself suddenly totally blitzed. It was as if she’d just downed several bottles of wine at once, or maybe a decanter of brandy. The room seemed to spin around her, and she fought the urge to vomit.
Devrik moved quickly to grab her and keep her from casting any spells (and with an eye out for her Khundari dagger, having seen what she could do with that in a pinch), but her own drunken staggering helped her unintentionally avoid his grasp. She staggered toward the large, soft-looking bed and this time Devrik managed to get her into a bear hug and pull her down onto it.
Toran had dashed up to the hidden door as Karina and Taeland had disappeared through it, and had only just failed to keep it from closing. With a particularly earthy Khundari curse he’d instantly set to work trying to figure out the mechanism that controlled the again-hidden portal.
As their Khundari compatriot worked to open the way after their target (and friend) the rest of the Hand stumbled and fumbled around each other, one set trying not to hurt their friends, the other… not really trying so much. Except Therok, who seemed surprisingly gentle in his renewed struggle with Korwin.
The water mage flailed against the muscular strength of the barbarian, to little effect, and B-Fiddy just sort of slapped away his attempts to grapple. Devrik struggled to keep Mariala pinned without hurting her, while she did her best to knee him in the groin. In the antechamber the mercenaries hacked away at each other in a surprising display of almost comic ineptitude.
Erol, in a quandry at how best to proceed, and perhaps still a little dazed by the brief mental fight in his head, decided it would be best to blind their controlled friends. Sadly, in the tumult, his warning to the others was missed, and his flash ended up blinding almost everyone in the bed chamber.
But the worst unforeseen consequence was the undoing of his success in keeping Vulk and Berik mesmerized. Blinded, they no longer were entranced by his Balls of Wonder… but remained under Karina’s control. Half blind, they still were able to go on the attack.
Devrik lost his grip on Mariala thanks to the flash of light, and before he could regain his grip Vulk barreled into him – the cantor bounced off, but the distraction allowed Mariala to stagger away. Korwin managed to cut his elbow on a metal stud of Therok’s harness, ruining another of his puffy shirts, and then almost concussed himself trying to head-butt the barbarian.
♦ ♦ ♦
During all this Toran had managed to work out the secret to the hidden door, and as it popped open he rolled through in best ninja-dwarf style, coming to his feet with his axe ready to block or attack. Taeland stood before him, long knife drawn, in a fighting crouch. Beyond him in the long, narrow room Karina was working feverishly at a large iron chest, apparently trying to get it open.
Taking in all this in an instant, Toran leapt aside as Taeland swung at him, using a nearby table as a springboard to somersault over the ranger and land next to Karina. She whirled as he swung his axe, nimbly dodging the blow and landing a solid kick to his chest. It was obvious she’d had some serious martial arts training…
Before the Shadow Warrior could recover, Taeland was on him, forcing him to defend himself without hurting his companion. Karina returned to her work on the chest with a barked command to her slave – “Deal with the interloper!”
Taeland swung at Toran, but he seemed slower than the dwarf remembered him in combat. Was he fighting the control? He decided to risk tackling the woman again, grabbing her around the waist and taking her to the floor. But before he could secure his grip Taeland was pulling him off her. Karina moved both gracefully and quickly up from the floor to head-butt the Kundari, knocking the wind out of him.
Toran had little trouble breaking Taeland’s hold, but his follow-through attack on Karina missed and her counter-strike rang his bell, causing him to drop his axe. Taeland, eschewing his own weapon, tried to grapple the dwarf, but was easily evaded. Karina went in for another kick, but this time Toran was ready for her, knocking her foot aside and landing his own blow solidly into her side.
As she staggered back against the large iron chest, grimacing in pain, she screamed at Taeland “KILL HIM!!” Toran barely had time to snatch up his axe before his friend was on him, and he failed to entirely dodge the long knife blow to the head. Ignoring the sudden pain and blood, Toran drove in with a swift counter-attack, wounding Taeland in the hand.
Karina used the distraction to pull her dagger and drive the blade between the links of his armor and into his hip, where it grated on bone. Wrenching himself away from the attack ripped the weapon from her grasp, but left him open to another blow from Taeland… he parried, but was staggered.
Realizing the woman was now weaponless, Toran pulled the dagger from his hip and, seemingly without awareness, dropped it to the floor between them. Taeland moved in for another attack, forcing the Khundari to turn toward him. Toran easily blocked the long knife… and on the back swing brought the flat of his axe blade around to catch Karina upside the head as she darted in to retrieve her dagger. She dropped bonelessly to the floor, unconscious and bleeding freely from her nose and mouth.
♦ ♦ ♦
Back in the bed chamber things had gone from bad to potentially fatal. Mariala, staggering far enough out of Devrik’s reach, somehow managed to pull her drunken shit together enough to summon up her Fire Nerves, blasting her friend with the full force of the spell. The fire mage dropped twitching to the floor, writhing in agony. Mariala looked briefly surprised, then burst into hysterical laughter. Then hiccuped.
Erol, time slowing for him as his extra-temporal ability finally kicked in, managed to take down Therok with a blow to the head from his trident’s shaft, freeing up Korwin to head for the still open secret door. But Berik, realizing his beloved would be in danger, lunged to attack the water mage. Korwin managed to dodge, but the former henchman now crouched between him and the door.
Erol turned immediately from downing Therok to trying the same ploy on Mariala, only to be stymied by her continued drunkard’s luck. Staggering and weaving about the room, she avoided his attack and giggled…. until Grover leaped from a shelf where he had been perched and savaged her on the hip. With a shriek of pain and fury she whipped around, sending the small animal flying, and then tripped over her own feet to land on her ass.
Erol raised his trident to bring its butt down on her head, only to be blocked by Korwin’s ice-shrouded cutlass. “Stop!” the water mage cried. “Look, it’s over!” Then Erol noticed that Mariala had lost the fixed look she’d worn ever since Karina had asked for her help, though she now looked confused and sick.
Berik, too, was standing dazed and confused-looking where he and Korwin had been fighting (Korwin had a nasty cut on one hand… probably leave a scar the mage thought happily). From the antechamber the sounds of fighting had stopped, and Vulk, who had been trying to block the secret door with furniture while Korwin and Berik fought, was shaking his head to clear it.
Taeland and Toran appeared at the doorway into the hidden room, dragging the unconscious Karina between them. After unceremoniously dumping her in the middle of the room, Toran described the chest she had been attempting to open. “I’m going to see if I can finish what she started,” he said, turning back to the hidden room and brushing off Vulk’s attempts to examine his bleeding head.
Vulk instead turned his attention to Devrik and Mariala, using his psionic healing abilities to remove the extreme fatigue from the one, and his physician skill (and Baylorium) to treat the other’s ferret bite. Erol dragged B-Fiddy over to the cantor before turning his attention to their recent foe.
He peeled back her eyelids and checked her pupils, then felt for a pulse… damn, her heart had stopped! But they needed her alive – they needed answers. There was a technique his Telnori “mentor” knew…
“Isn’t she dead?” asked Berik from across the room, where he’d been about to follow Toran and Korwin into the treasure vault. Seeing the tall Telnori pressing down on the woman’s chest and caught his eye.
“She was… now she’s just badly concussed,” the former gladiator replied, straightening from his revivifying efforts as her breast once agin began to move with breath, if shallowly. “But she might yet die again… it’s hard to tell with a head wound like this.”
Searching her carefully, he removed anything that might be magical or otherwise dangerous, but the moment he touched the large, ugly ring on her left hand the battered woman groaned, and her eyelids fluttered open.
“No,” she croaked, clutching feebly at his hand. “Don’t, please… I won’t be a slave to that bitch again… never again…”
“A slave to who,” Erol asked, desisting from trying to remove the ring but keeping his own hand firmly on it. “Who do you fear so much?”
“Avira… Avira… she wears many faces… she stole me from the Crimson Veil… she stole my mind… the bitch! For ten years… her willing slave… stealing powerful artifacts… helping her spread… her stupid… death cult to the… gülvini…”
She seemed to faded in and out for a minute, but soon resumed her rambling speech. “She made me… I slept… slept with… men!” The disgust and rage seemed to give her strength, but only for a moment. “I hate her… using the Zalik-mal, that pig… Jardath… and his cloak of invisibility... to help… steal artifacts I would find… with my gift… I never knew what she stole from me… until I found… the Ring.” Her hand spasmed in his, trying to clutch it. “When I… put it on… it freed me… broke her cursed spell… I swore then… I would destroy her! Her… and all her great… plans…”
“Who is this Avira?” Erol asked urgently. “What are her plans?”
Karina gasped a laugh, and her eyes wandered for a moment. “She is a demon, a blight, a renegade… and she made me a renegade… too…” A tear fell from one eye at that. “She wears many… faces… has many tools… everywhere… she plans to rule the world… more ambitious even… than Vindus… unite the tribes… the gülvini… storm the kingdoms of men…”
“Did you kill Jardath’s men?” Berik asked, startling Erol. He and been so focused on the wounded woman’s words he’d barely noticed the man crouch down opposite him. “Did you kill Buron and Fendal in that house in Zhuran?” His tone was quiet, even conversational, his face neutral. Erol felt suddenly uneasy.
“Yes,” Karina replied, with a ghost of a smile. “Yes… I wanted to kill… all of you Zalik-mal… but most especially… that pig Jardath… he desecrated me…”
“Buron was my brother,” Berik said in the same calm voice and drove his dagger into Karina’s throat. Erol grabbed for the man, but Berik ripped the knife out again and slammed the pommel into the ex-gladiator’s face, stunning him. As Erol slumped over Karina’s spasming body Berik rose, drawing his sword and calling to his mercenaries.
Devrik, his face twisted in rage and shock, shoved Vulk aside and lunged at the murderous thief. Berik barely managed to deflect a thrust that would have spit him like a pig, instead taking a deep gash to his thigh. Pivoting on his good leg, he swung wildly at Devrik’s head, only to lose his sword arm to the fire mage’s counter-strike.
Blood gushing from the stump of the severed limb, Berik collapsed screaming to the floor, desperately trying to stop the arterial spurting. Ignoring him, Devrik whirled to face the mercenaries suddenly pouring into the room. One look at their dead employer, his quickly expiring lieutenant and the enraged face of Devrik, and to a man they instantly decided there was no point in dying to avenging a client who could no longer pay them… they stumbled over themselves fleeing the chamber.
While Vulk tended to the unconscious Erol, using the last of the blood-specific Baylorium, Devrik and a still woozy Mariala joined Korwin and Toran in the treasure vault. The Khundari was just disengaging the final lock on the iron chest.
“It had magical wards, I think,” he said, pulling the lid up with a grunt. “But I think Karina managed to break those before I subdued her. We should ask her –”
“She’s dead,” Devrik grated shortly. “Killed by Berik.”
“What?!” Torn cried, his black beard bristling in anger. “The bastard! We should –”
“He’s not an issue anymore,” Devrik interrupted. “Nor are the mercenaries.”
Toran raised a bushy eyebrow at that last, but decided not to pursue it. He turned back to the chest and peered into its depths. Gold velvet lined ebony trays, each of the three divided into six sections. The first tray was empty, the second contained an exquisite figurine of a dryad carved from jade and an empty jeweled box of burnished rosewood. The last tray held only a single wand of tarnished silver and blue crystal.
While he was doing this, Devrik and Mariala peering over his shoulders, Korwin slipped back out into the bed chamber. Vulk was still occupied with Erol, Therok was slumped in a corner nursing his head, and Taeland had escorted the mercenaries out to make sure they neither harmed Jeb nor raised the alarm with the Gramlini out of some sort of misplaced vengeance.
Without undue haste the water mage knelt next to Karina’s body and slipped the ugly silver ring, with its large purple stone, off her dead finger, dropping it quickly into his belt pouch. Then he stood up and wandered over to commiserate with Erol over his aching head.
A moment later a commotion from the treasure room drew everyone’s attention, and they all crowded into the chamber. In the bottom of the chest, beneath the third tray, lay a folded robe of midnight blue, trimmed in red and gold flames… and on top of it rested a mask of gold, lacking any holes for eyes, nose or mouth.
“Dear gods, could this Avira that Karina spoke of be our Captain Chaos?” Erol asked no one in particular. “I thought he was a man…”
While he explained to Taeland exactly who “Captain Chaos” was and outlined the scope and reach of the Vortex conspiracy, the others searched the rest of the room, stuffing every ream of paper, scrolls and books into their packs.
As they returned to the bloody bed chamber the noise of battle began to filter down to them. Whatever the result of the civil war going on above them might be in the end, it seemed to be moving their way.
“Hand,” barked Vulk, “we are leaving!”