PROLOGUE

Xuulkar, Basilisk Magus of the First Order of the Nidus Collegium, wove his way through the narrow passages of the ancient tomb. His fine, embroidered black robes brushed noiselessly along the ancient stone floor. Before him went two of his least talented guards, culled from the Nidus Collegium's latest batch of Propugner candidates. Behind him trailed his more seasoned guards, warily taking up the rear. Above Xuulkar's head hovered a ball of soft light, throwing the carved walls of the tomb into stark relief. Dust and cobwebs hung thick from the low ceiling, inexpertly cleared by the young guards in the lead. The air itself was musty with forgotten ages, and cooler than the tropical heat that surrounded the long forgotten jungle structure.

The narrow passage emptied into a large hall, such that the Magus and his retinue of men could easily stand within. Set within the center of the chamber was a dias, upon which a sarcophagus lay at an angle, as if to allow ease of entry into and out of the funerary box. Threads of long gone tapestries hung from the high ceiling, which was at least as tall as two men. All about the chamber were low tables and ancient, worm-eaten wooden stools of the finest craftsmanship, some of which had succumbed to the ages and fallen under their own weight. The tables themselves held a king's wealth of objects made from the most precious materials - curiously shaped bowls and plates and cups, all made from electrum and gold and inlaid with precious stones. Most of these had fallen through the insect ravaged tables and lay covered in forgotten layers of history. Otherwise the walls were bare, save for occassional engravings in an ancient script which the Magus himself could scarcely read. The thin, faint words bore only a warning from a time long past. Xuulkar snorted in disgust at the presumptive text, sending his ball of light higher into the air to better illuminate the surroundings.

The Propugners went about checking the room, leaving Xuulkar to examine the sarcophagus. Its lid bore the craven image of an austere face, eyes closed in a look of calm, mouth slightly downturned as if the act of lying dead was uncomfortable to its occupant. More of the ancient script was visible upon the bottom of the sarcophagus, interspersed with simple images depicting the life of the one entombed. Scenes of famine and plague, demons and monsters, all under the bidding of the king, were plainly laid out. There was more to the tale than this, Xuulkar knew. Weaving a spell of magical sight, he soon saw the hot glow of protective wards sealing the sarcophagus. He looked about the room for the only other mage, a Wizard of Fire of the Third Order, by the name of Johral.

"Johral!" squawked Xuulkar, "Attend!"

The younger mage, well into his middle years, scrambled to the side of his mentor and benefactor. Clad in the red and orange robes of his rank, he hurried to the side of Xuulkar, head lowered.

"My master?" he asked.

"We've wards to break, Wizard. Prepare," Xuulkar said, eyes not leaving the sarcophagus.

Both mages were busy readying the items needed to break the enchantment sealing the ancient king in his forgotten box. Vials of pure water, along with packets of sand and salt were readied. As one the two mages began to weave the spell of unbinding that would, with any luck, break through the ancient enchantment sealing the sarcophagus.

It was slow going. The mages had to perform the magic several times before finally weakening the magical wards. The ball of light that Xuulkar had been maintaining winked out of existence, plunging the chamber in pitch darkness. The mages could still see the glow of magic around the sarcophagus as they continued their magical assualt, but the younger Propugners began to panic in the chill black of the ancient tomb. The more experienced men silenced them before they could break the concentration of the wizards, who together poured their wills into the magic of undoing. Then, with a thunderous crack, the magics protecting the sarcophagus were broken. Moments later, Xuulkar was once again bathing the chamber in soft light.

"Excellent!" cried the Magus. The thirteenth and final piece of the portal would soon be his. All that was left was the opening of the sarcophagus.

Xuulkar retreated to one of the chamber's walls, leaning heavily upon it. His breathing heavy, he called to the two young Propugners and his assistant.

"Demos and Breen, would you do the great honor of opening the sarcophagus while an old man catches his breath? Johral, please assist them."

Turning to the other guards, he said, "Torches." The four guards presented their torches, and with a wave and a quiet word the Magus lit them. "Go now," he said to the guards, "ensure our retreat is clear." The guards, eager to be out of the tomb, hurried back down the narrow passage.

Turning his attention back to the sarcophagus, Xuulkar watched as the other two guards and his assistant went to work on the ancient box, the two warriors with small prying bars. Johral stood in front of the box while the two Propugners took positions on the right and left of it. Working their bars into the narrow crack between lid and box, Johral shouted encouragement at them as they began to move the massive stone lid.

"Yes, yes!" Xuulkar hissed through clenched teeth, anxious to finally lay claim to his prize. It had taken years to track down all the tiles, and even longer to decipher their use. Soon, he would prove that it had all been worthwhile.

The stone lid of the sarcophagus fell to the floor with a shattering "thump", pieces of the ancient relic skittering noisily across the stone floor of the tomb, sending up clouds of dust. Choking and coughing, the three stood by and waited for the cloud to clear. Xuulkar willed the light lower, over the open coffin, eager to see its contents.

The mummified remains of an ancient and long forgotten king resided within, wrapped in colorful bandages and adorned with fine jewelery. The two young guards quickly began stripping the remains of its finery, greedily shoving the rich trinkets into pouches and purses. The mages, however, were more concerned with the simple, flat, stone tile upon which the mummified remains appeared to be standing. Just over a foot long and half as wide, it was gently curved, being part of a larger, circular set of tiles. Like its siblings, it was dark and struck through with blue and green, said to be made from Heaven Seed, the rare stones which fell from the sky. Unlike its siblings, it had a simple marking engraved upon it, a pair of crossed lines with three circles in an arch over the top.

"Can you feel its power?" Xuulkar said absently to himself, "The thirteenth and final tile. How it burns with potential, so unlike its others." He held out his hands and made grasping motions, like a child begging for sweets. "Bring it to me!"

Johlar beamed with pride. He had traveled with Xuulkar ever since the Magus had noticed him deciphering ancient texts in one of the many ancient and forgotten libraries of the Nidus Collegium. The Magus had taken a keen interest in his career, speaking highly of him to the Exarch and ensuring him access to the more restricted collections at the Collegium. Johlar, in turn, helped the Magus decipher an ancient map, and in turn helped to undo the many wards and protections that had been cast upon the objects in their many hiding places. Xuulkhar had been pleased with his work, and promised him great rewards of knowledge and power should they succeed in acquiring all thirteen pieces. That moment had finally arrived.

Kneeling down, Johlar grasped the stone tile. He let out a deafening scream as he touched it, sparks of magic flame leaping out from the tile. The mage screamed in agony, unable to let go, his skin glowing white with energy. Light shot out through his eyes, and then in some horrible trick sank back in, leaving the wizard's remains slumped in a disfigured heap upon the floor, his skin ashen in the soft illumination of Xuulkar's light.

"Oh dear," Xuulkar said flatly. The two young Propugners stared at the crumbled waste of the wizard, and one of them screamed. Xuulkar gestured quickly at both men, muttering dark words of power. Both guards immediately fell to the floor, their skin as cold and grey as the stone upon which they lay.

"Such a tragedy," Xuulkar said, quickly moving to the sarcophagus. Kicking aside the body of Johral, the Magus performed the quick spell which would allow him to safely touch the thirteenth tile, a spell which he had very careful kept hiddern from his hapless apprentice. Lifting the relic, he began to laugh uncontrollably. Years of searching, years of researching, and now the pieces were his. The Gate of Ogg-Met the Doom Bringer was, at long last, his to command.

Placing the tile in a pocket in his robes, he quickly exited the chamber, but not without first kicking the remains of Johral once more. With a final laugh, he was off.

Chapter I

Lodune Vald stooped under the low awning of a tailor's shop, his oiled cloak and cowl drawn tightly about him. The evening sky was thick with dark spring rain, driving everyone indoors and leaving this end of the Temple District deserted.

'An easy job', Lodune thought to himself, 'that's what it was supposed to be. In and out, no problem.' He scanned the street, noting the occassional rat looking for higher ground. Rain pelted the tiled roofs of the district in sharp, angry attacks, creating a defeaning racket. 'On the up side, the noise will muffle the sound of my falling to my doom," Lodune thought wryly. Thunder erupted overhead just then, as if to emphasize the point. Lodune cast a baleful eye towards the heavens and shook his head. It was going to be one of those jobs.

With a final shrug of resignation, he carefully removed his cowl and cloak, along with his now water-logged low soft boots. These he placed behind a stack of empty crates under the awning. Adjusting the oilskin bag he had slung around his chest, he stepped out from under the awning, the rain immediately soaking his woolen tunic and breeches. Gingerly splashing through the narrow cobbled street, he quickly reached the rear of the Temple of Martuu Truthspeaker, a recently fashionable cult enjoying the attention of several of Lutholm's wealthier citizens. The temple building itself was old, having been home to any number of cults over the last few generations. Martuu and his followers had recently bought the building from the out-going Cult of Immaculate Poverty, a short-lived fad of a religion recently disgraced by the opulent habits of its clergy. The temple stood two stories tall, long on either side, built of mortared stones with a a square tower raising one story further from the rear of the building.

The few windows in the sides of the temple were tightly shuttered against the storm, save for the lone window set into the tower. At least no one is likley to be staring out their window this evening, Lodune thought. With a final glance about him, he quickly fished about inside the oilskin bag slung across his chest. He pulled out two objects which he slipped over his hands and without a second thought he stepped up to the temple wall and began to climb.

The orcish stone climbing gloves, or "kontu", were expensive equipment given to him as payment for a job a few years before. Along the fingers and palms stood many short, sharp, and remarkably strong spikes. The orcs used them in their mines, and Lodune had quickly found another use for them. Even in the demonic rain, the gloves held fast, even as rain and grime from the wall cascaded across Lodune. His bare toes found adequate holds between the old mortared stones of the building, and Lodune made short work of the three story climb to the tower window.

The tower window was known as the Portal of Celestial Welcoming by the current tenants of the temple. Lodune wasn't sure of its role in the cult's mysteries, but he knew that it was meant to always be open. He was impressed by the inlaid colored stones and gold tiles used to adorn the opening. According to his information, there was a stairway that lead to the window from within the tower, and the cleanliness of the Portal indicated this to be true. Eager to be in from the elements, Lodune pulled himself over the sill and into the tower, landing moistly upon the wet wooden landing on the other side.

A quick check revealed no cries of surprise or alarm, though he wasn't sure he'd be able to hear any given the noise of the rain. Still, all seemed well. He pulled off the "kontu" and replaced them in the bag. Turning his attention back to the Portal, he pulled out a small pry bar from under his belt and went to work removing one of the golden tiles. Incidental loot was one of his favorite kinds of loot. The tile was easy enough to remove, but upon freeing it from the sill Lodune discovered that it was really just gold gilt grey stone tile. Bemused and mildly annoyed, he fit the tile back in place and focused on the task at hand.

The job was straight-forward enough - sneak into the holy-of-holies of the Temple and replace the cult's holy relic with the object supplied by the client. The client was a bored but clever nobleman named Evard of Blackreach, known for his delight at snubbing custom and causing scandal amongst the aristocracy. His latest job required that the fashionable Temple of Martuu Truthspeaker be broken into, and that the cult's most holy relic be replaced with the object which he supplied to Lodune. Lodune enjoyed working with Evard, as the jobs were always good for a laugh. Evard also payed handsomely for the work, and appropriate discretion was excercised at all times. It was a great arrangement.

Fishing within his bag again, he pulled out a pair of soft slippers, only mildly damp from the hellstorm outside. With these silencers on his feet, he proceeded to creep down the stairway which circled squarely downwards. He noted with mild disgust that he was leaving a clear trail of drippings wherever he went, but knew there was nothing to be done for it. The temple was drafty, and with any luck the constant breeze would help hide the evidence.

Flickering light could be seen below as he descended, coming from where the stairs appeared to empty into an open space. Lodune could also hear low, steady chanting coming from the direction of the main chamber. The chanting appeared to be in High Aarnish, which surprised him. Most trendy cults used ancient languages or pidgins in their rights, but Martuu apparently allowed his disciples to use the vernacular. Lodune strained to make out whole phrases, but couldn't quite. He silently cursed the fact that this job had been rushed, as he would have prefered to have had some time to case the Temple more fully and learn specifics of the cult's practices. Still, the timeliness of the job meant a higher rate of pay, as well as an added edge of excitement. Shaking off further doubts, he continued down the stairway.

Coming at last to the final landing before the base of the stairs, Lodune paused and listened. The chanting was louder now, and he could make out occassional phrases. "Blessed is the Truth which flows from Martuu" appeared to be repeated frequently. There was also another voice, apparently a priest, who's sole voice Lodune could almost make out. The sounds of the rain outside were admirably muffled within the temple, but still loud enough to drown out the relative hush of the priest's prayers.

Quietly squishing his way to the bottom of the steps, Lodune found himself squarely within the glow of a small lantern hung from a column. Without thinking he quickly ran up to the lantern and, in a single fluid movement, had it open and the light extinguished, throwing his immediate surroundings into shadow.

Taking in his surroundings from the comforting vantage of the shadows, he found himself standing several feet behind the temple's holy-of-holies. It appeared to be a rather slipshod square gazebo with a pointed roof, the whole of which was draped in rich velvet dyed the deep blue color of Indaran wine. The structure was easily seven feet to a side, and just over that in height. Beyond the holy-of-holies stretched the laity, about 40 bodies strong, bent prostrate before the holy-of-holies. Wealthier supplicants were at the front of the group, with the less elegantly dressed filling in the rear. The worshippers would occassionally sit upright, only to go prone once more with the ongoing call and response of the service.

The priest, who he could now hear much more clearly, appeared to be reciting a litany of deeds perfromed by Martuu, after which the laity would chant the line Lodune had made out earlier. Lodune hoped this meant that everyone in the temple was occupied.

Braziers and lanterns were hung from the ceiling around the perimeter of the worshippers. At regular intervals, acolytes stood, hoods drawn up and faces down, swinging censers burning sweet smelling incense. Skirting the light, Lodune crept to the side of the crowd in order to get a better look at the priest.

The priest himself was adorned in a simple but expensive white robe, embroidered in runes and religious symbols. His hood was drawn up, and only an ornate gold mask was visible, covering the top half of the priest's face. Lodune idly wondered if the mask was of higher quality than the tiles around the Portal. The priest's recitation of the litany rose in volume and pitch, and his masked face turned upwards towards the ceiling. Taking this as a queue, Lodune hurried back to the rear of the holy-of-holies and dropped to the floor. He began shimmying on his belly as quietly as possible towards the heavy velvet curtain.

His woolen breeches and tunic, water-ladden and heavy, scraped audibly against the worn marble floor as he made his way towards his goal. The sounds of worship continued to drown him out, but he was leaving the safety of the shadows as he made his way to the velvet curtain. Lifting the edge enough to peer under, he saw that the interior of the space appeared empty save for a tall cabinet made of dark stained wood, possibly with some kind of inlay. Further details were impossible to make out, given the darkness of the space.

Hastily pulling himself into the holy-of-holies, Lodune stood and froze, listening to the the continued litany being given by the priest. Deciding that he was in the clear, he reached under his tunic to one of the special pockets in the top of his breeches. He pulled out a small, smooth stone within a wire cage, suspended from a narrow leather strap. This he brought it to his lips as he whispered a word. The stone instantly gave off a soft, red glow of light, perfect for discreet lighting in tight places. The light stone had been payment for a job he had performed for a wizard some years before, and was one of Lodune's most cherished possessions. Offering up a blessing to the stone's maker, he slung the strap around his neck and set about examinging the cabinet.

As he'd thought, the cabinet was made of some stained, dark wood and inlaid with ivory and gold in an ornate geometric pattern. I was told it wouldn't be ensorceled, Lodune thought ruefully. Running the light stone over the surface of the cabinet revealed no obvious physical traps, and closer inspection of the inlay showed areas of damage, where the rather cheap inlay work had chipped away with time.

This is the worst cult I've ever tried to rob, Lodune thought. All hopes of finding golden, bejeweled relics within the cabinet faded. He pulled open the cabinet doors somewhat dejectedly, revealing a couple of ornate icons of the diety, some silver candlesticks of high quality ('Finally!', Lodune sighed), and a golden box with an ornate lid, about the size of a human head.

A cursory investigation of the golden box revealed that it was made of real gold, although the lid appeared to have been replaced with a gold-gilt replica at some point. The sides of the box were engraved with scenes of the diety conquering his adversaries, although Lodune's trained eyes could make out signs where the diety's features had been etched atop an earlier work. Lifting the too-light lid, he discovered a small silver tablet, encased in carefully engraved passages in High Aarnish. The tablet was too light for silver. Taking his knife from his belt, Lodune worked the bottom of the tablet. As expected, the silver was just plating over clay. Lodune nearly chuckled aloud at the state of this very fashionable cult. It was increasingly apparent that the clergy were investing the congregation's tithings in something other than the church. Had they learned nothing from the previous tenants of the Temple?

The priest's voiced boomed loudly then, jarring Lodune.

"Who would be the Speaker of Truth? Who would dare to look upon Martuu's Truth? Bring them forward, that we may step together into the holy-of-holies and receive Martuu's Truth!"

Hastened by panic, Lodune fumbled in his oilskin bag for the object Evard had given him. It was a replacement tablet, this one made of solid silver, engraved with High Aarnish words. Lodune's heart began to race as he made the switch, placing the original clay tablet in his bag. From outside the holy-of-holies he could hear commotion as he carefully replaced the lid to the golden box.

"We have our Speaker!" boomed the priest. "Come, sister, and share in the miracle of Martuu's Truth!"

Lodune nearly dropped the golden box back into the cabinet but closed the cabinet doors swiftly and silently. Racing behind the cabinet, he realized that the light stone was still active. Fumbling to bring it to his lips, he whispered the deactivation word just as light from the temple poured in through the now-drawn entrance curtain. Holding perfectly still, he tried to slow his heart as he heard the commotion behind him. He felt the cabinet doors open, and a scrape as the golden box was lifted from its resting place. Not daring to breathe, he stood statue-like, listening to the priest and the supplicant.

"Bring forth the Silver Tablet of Martuu's Truth, faithful one, and read aloud His writ!"

The sound of clumsy fumbling was accompanied by a barely audible woman's voice commenting on the weight of the tablet.

"Now, sister! Read our lord's words!" bellowed the priest.

In a dreamlike voice of rapt adoration, the woman began to read from the fake tablet, "Harken to my words, my faithful, and know this truth. Dark and troubled times are these, yet vigilant must ye remain. Those who are my priests are not."

From this a sudden muffled murmuring arose from the laity. "Uhm, thank you, Speaker..." the priest began to say.

"But there's more," the eager supplicant continued, "Truth is ever where you least expect to find it. Cast off this false clergy, and be free!"

At this a raucous noise errupted from the worshipping throng. Lodune heard what he suspected was a censer being dropped, and the growing clamor was his signal to leave. Chuckling to himself at Evard's prank, he dropped quickly to the floor and rolled out from under the rear curtain. The temple was in a state of chaos, with the faithful chanting "cast off the clergy!" in a state of divine ecstasy. Acolytes were busily running towards the stairs leading to their chambers on the second floor, no doubt to rescue the tithings which they had been hording. The faithful were on them like hounds on the hunt. Lodune couldn't see the head priest in the miniature riot, but assumed he was safely fleeing the area with heavy purses.

Sticking to the shadows, Lodune made his way to the front doors of the temple, where worshipers were already running into the stormy night, cries of freedom and truth on their lips. Moments later, he was back under the awning where he had begun, donning his boots and cloak and cowl. While it hadn't been a particularly lucrative adventure, it had certainly been a funny one. He stood watching the temple empty out, idly wondering who the next tenants would be, and if they, too, would be charlatans. A thunderous boom erupted from the storm overhead, and Lodune was gone.

Chapter II

Noise and light and less wholesome sensations spilled into the wet night street outside One Eyed Jack's. A mainstay on the warfs of Lutholm, One Eyed Jack's dingy little tavern offered safe haven for visiting sailors, longshoremen, and other, less savory, elements. In short, it was one of Lodune's favorite places to relax. Eager for warmth and an ale, Lodune pulled open the stout wooden entrance and stepped inside.

As expected, the rain had driven a crowd into Jack's establishment. Tables of drunken sailors boasted loudly amongst themselves, regailing all within earshot of their physical prowess and seamanship. A group of longshoreman dominated the bar itself, while a small group of men huddled quietly over their drinks in the corner to the left of the front door, one of whom kept glancing about uncomfortably. City watch, Lodune thought. They'll feel better once they're into their cups.

Behind the bar stood One Eyed Jack himself, an ancient mountain of a man, head crowned in short white locks. Barrel chested and still strong at his age, old Jack claimed to have been born and raised on the warves of Lutholm. A former longshoreman himself, he retained the build and gruff demeanor of his previous profession, although he'd been running this tavern for as long as anyone could remember. It was said that he'd started the tavern after losing his left eye, but the circumstances surrounding that are never discussed by Jack himself.

Jack looked up from the conversation he was having with one of his longshoreman buddies when Lodune entered. With a gap-toothed grin and a wave, he motioned Lodune in, indicating a seat by the large fire pit. The seat happened to be occupied, but old Jack had lifted its drunken occupant out by the time Lodune wove his way through the crowd.

"Ah Jack, you shouldn't have," Lodune said to the old man as he removed his cloak and cowl and pulled the chair closer to the fire, "but I'm glad you did." Lodune flipped a silver coin at Jack, who caught it with the speed and accuracy only capable amongst taverners and beggers.

"Aye, ye knows I be soft on ye, Lodune me lad," Jack said, his good eye sparkling gray as he smiled. "Asides, ye looks as though the gods themselves be tryin' to drown ye. What has ye out on a night such as this?"

"Business, don't you know," Lodune said, tapping the side of his nose.

One Eyed Jack spat his contempt into the sawdust which covered the floor. "When will ye be gettin' an honest job, lad? Ye worries us sick with yer sneakin' abouts for the wealthy and such. And here now, best be takin' off that tunic so I can hang it 'front of the kitchen fire."

Lodune laughed aloud and said, "You know how much I love my work, old man. Besides, imagine how much you'd lose if I got an honest paying job." Then, unfastening his belt and pulling his soaked woolen tunic over his head, he said, "And when will you stop trying to get me out of my clothes?" He handed the sopping garment to Jack, who held it out at arm's length, water still dripping from it.

"As soon as ye stops complyin' with me request, lad, and no sooner," said Jack with a wink of his one good eye. "Yer breeches look a might soaked, too..."

Lodune shoved Jack away good-naturedly and said loudly, "Enough, you ancient pervert. Now bring me a flask of brandy, and be quick with it!"

Several of the regulars sitting nearby laughed raucously at this, then turned back to their drinking and carousing. While such displays would be considered vulgar and unwholesome elsewhere in Lutholm, and indeed the kingdom of Valemark as a whole, the regulars of One Eyed Jack's wouldn't even bat an eye. The sailors out of Oceania were well acquainted with such activities, and it was for this reason that Jack had opened the place. It was also why off-duty city watch would wander in - you could either pay your way through one of the all-male bordellos in Lutholm's Pleasures District, or you could try your luck at One Eyed Jacks.

One of Jack's serving boys came out with Lodune's flask of brandy and a clean cup. Jack employed some of the street urchins who hung out in the Warf District, offering them a hearty meal a day and any tips they might earn in exchange for honest work. Old Jack didn't tolerate thieving in his establishment, nor did he tolerate prostitutes. His serving boys served food and drinks only, and woe to any who tried to alter this arrangement. The longshoremen at the bar were more than just regulars - they were the ultimate bouncers. Giving the kid a copper coin, Lodune turned his attention to the fire and the crowd, letting the heat and the noise settle into him.

He lazily scanned the crowded room, noting familiar faces and making special note of any new ones. He noticed some of the stares he was getting, sitting half-naked as he was in front of the fire. While not an uncommon site at One Eyed Jack's, it was just this side of early for that kind of behavior. In particular, the uncomfortable off-duty city guard was giving him a bashful eye. Lodune caught him looking and smiled, causing the guard to turn suddenly to one of his friends who started laughing and slapping him on the back. Lodune was always on the look-out for more contacts within the city watch. He grinned broadly at the table full of guards and went back to examining the fire. Time enough for all that later.

Watching the fire, he turned his attention to eavesdropping. Lodune was able to make out members of at least two different vessels amongst the sailors, the "Midnight Moon" and the "High Lady". The "Moon" was crewed by Oceanic sailors, as their language and lanky, swarthy features told. The "Lady", however, was most likely a coastal runner. Her crewmen spoke the Low Aarnish of the Three Cities, a region far south of Lutholm, along the eastern seaboard. Amongst the boasting and bravado, Lodune was able to make out something about "disputed lands" and "diplomats recalled". Listening closer, he realized that someone from the "Moon" and the "Lady" were swapping news. An invaluable commodity, especially in Lodune's line of work, he casually repositioned himself for better hearing. Normally he would have gone up and introduced himself and joined in the conversation, but he didn't want to risk discouraging the off-duty guard. Taking another sip of his brandy, he heard more of the conversation.

"Aye, 'tis true. Old king Thoran of Southreach is bedridden these past six moons, and 'tis no healer been able to cure what ails him," said the tall, stout fellow who apeared to be with the "High Lady". "Now my cousin, he says that Prince Beddram's been a-runnin' the Southreach, quiet-like, ever since his pappy's been down. And there's plenty that believes that'd be true."

"But why Halstaad? Ain't that a free city?" asked the short fellow from the "Midnight Moon", red bandanna tied tightly around his head.

"Oh, aye, indeed it be," replied the other, "but ol' Prince Beddram, he's seein' an opportunity to lay claim to it. Whosoever controls Halstaad controls the best trading route with the orcs of the Northern Crags..."

"...An' that's why they sent them home!" the swarthy one interrupted.

"Aye, now you be seein' it," said the man from the "High Lady". Both men took long meaningful pulls on their mugs of ale, leaving Lodune in the lurch. Could Southreach honestly be making a play for Halstaad? What about the wizards of Halstaad? Surely they're against this, Lodune thought.

Overcome with curiosity, he got up to walk over to the two men when he heard his name being spoken at the bar. Turning, he saw an extremely nervous young man, his expensive breaches and cloak made to look plain, and bearing the demeanor of a house servant out of his element. Old One Eye was motioning the lad in Lodune's direction. Devoid of house ensignia, Lodune knew exactly who he was. Catching the young man's eyes, he motioned him over.

"Your master is punctual, as ever," Lodune said, slapping the messanger on the shoulder. The young man handed a small parcel to Lodune, careful to avoid making eye contact. The poor fellow looked like a hare who'd caught wind of a fox. The parcel was no larger than a biscuit and wrapped in folded linen and sealed with wax. The seal bore the initials "EB", Evard of Blackreach. Still looking at the floor, the messanger quickly said, "My master bids thee thanks for a task most artfully completed, and doth hope thee well inclined towards future business."

Lodune was about to speak when the Evard's messanger turned and hurried back through the raucous crowd towards the entrance. Without looking up from his feet, the messanger was out the door and into the gentle rain of the late evening.

Breaking the seal of the parcel revealed a small stack of gold coins. Lodune pocketed these quickly and threw the packaging into the fire. Turning back to the two sailors, he found that the sailor from the "High Lady" was now involved with one of the other sailors from the "Midnight Moon". Indeed, most of the tavern's patrons were well into their cups now, and several of the patrons appeared ready for more salacious activities. Sensing that useful intelligence gathering was no longer going to be possible, Lodune scanned the room looking for his bashful watchman.

The fellow was still sitting at the table, drinking heavily. His friends were mingling with the other patrons by now. Lodune thought he recognized one of the watchmen, a normally serious guard at Lutholm's North Gate. Taking his queue from the late hour, Lodune strode boldly to the corner table, where the shy fellow was busy finishing his ale. Setting down his tankard, he jumped slightly at seeing Lodune standing before him.

The young guard had straight, brown hair and eyes, with a small beard shaved close around his mouth. Lodune guessed he had seen at least twenty-three Festivals. Obviously emboldened by the ale, the guard managed a single "'Evening" before falling silent once more. Lodune smiled reassuringly, which seemed to relax the guard somewhat.

"Good even' to you, watchman," Lodune said. Startled by being recognized, Lodune quickly followed, "Not to worry - you have found a friend and ally. I was about to take advantage of the break in weather to head back to my room outside the Market District. Perhaps you would...."

Before he could finish speaking, the guard stood and said, "I'm Kot." His voice betrayed no signs of the beer he'd been consuming all night, although his body swayed ever so slightly. He thrust out his right arm and Lodune offered his own, grasping the forearm in greeting. Kot's grip was strong but not overbearing. Lodune smiled broadly and said, "Well then, Kot. Pleased to meet you. I'll be right back."

Lodune pressed through the crowd to the kitchen, where he found One Eyed Jack and his staff putting away the evening meal. His tunic hung neatly before the great kitchen hearth, damp but hot to the touch. Thanking Jack again for drying it for him, he shimmyed into it. As he adjust his belt, Jack said, "'Ere now, what's this then? Leavin' us so soon, my lad?"

"I've one more adventure for the evening, old man. I'll leave you to guess at it," Lodune said with a wink. One Eyed Jack clutched his heart in feigned drama as Lodune left the kitchen.

Reappearing at the guard's table, he donned his cowl and cloak.

"Shall we, then?" he said. The two headed into the midnight black, the evening's torrent reduced to little more than a mist.

Chapter III

Morning found Lodune strolling through the puddled streets of the Market District. The storm of the night before was long gone, leaving a mottle of clouds in the crisp blue sky above Lutholm. Steam rose from the rooftops, and the Market District was bustling with the controlled chaos of vendors preparing for their day.

Lodune had parted company with Kot, his formerly-bashful city watchman, at he first light of dawn. Kot, as it turned out, was stationed at Hermion's Gate on the west side of the city, and was occassionally assigned to patrol the Noble District. Lodune thanked the gods of luck for their chance encounter, smiling lasciviously as he remembered the evening's final adventure. In all, an exceptional evening all around.

His room in the Market District was a small bed chamber above a cobbler's shop. Lodune used this whenever he needed a room to share. Now, however, he needed to visit his actual room, a bedroom and sitting room at the top of a baker's shop on the westernmost edge of the Market District. Considerably smaller than the room above the cobbler, the two rooms above the baker proved to be warmer than most, and possessed of a better aroma.

The neighborhood was awash in the smells of early morning. Fresh baked goods and savory stews scented the air along the Street of Smells, making Lodune accutely aware of the fact that he hadn't eaten since early in the evening the day before. Finally reaching Mother Juule's Baked Goods, he eagerly bounded in through the open front door. Ma Clea was busy choreographing the elaborate dance which was her kitchen. Daughters and grandchildren wove about, mixing and stirring and kneading and baking at a frantic pace. The first customers of the day would be arriving soon, and the shop would be busy until well past midday.

"Mother!" shouted Lodune upon spying Mother Juule. "Grand morning to thee!"

Mother Juule squinted at Lodune, her eyes milky with cataracts. Taking a puff off her stubby pipe, she exhaled a raspy sound which may have been a greeting. Lodune ruffled the hair of one of the passing grandchildren, surreptitiously claiming a fresh cheese roll from the platter she was carrying. Mother Juule barked a protest, or was she just coughing? Lodune wasn't sure he'd ever actually heard her speak a complete sentance. Crossing over to her, he held both hands up in submission, his ill-gotten roll clutched between his teeth. Mother Juule took a deep breath, preparing for a tirade, but was stopped short when Lodune unexpectedly reached behind her ear, seemingly retrieving one of the gold coins he'd received the night before.

"I thought you might prefer flowers," Lodune said mock-sheepishly, "but they would only pale in comparison to you." Mother Juule's weak eyes widened as Lodune gave her the coin, and a small gasp escaped her pursed lips. A single tear fell from her cloudy left eye, tracing a path across the wrinkled landscape of her cheek and coming to rest just under the hairy wart on her chin.

Mother Juule shouted something towards one of her younger daughters, who hurriedly poured a cup of fresh milk and a small plate of hard cheese and hot, fresh bread. These she gave to Lodune with the briefest of curtsies. Lodune was about to say something more, but Mother Juule cut him off and frantically waved him away. Customers had come in, and Lodune had succeeded in throwing off the rhythm of the morning's routine. Taking his queue, he bounded up the stairs in the back of the kitchen, continuing past the second floor where Mother Juule and some of her daughters lived and continuing to the attic space on the third floor.

Lodune sat down the cup and plate on the small table that faced the miniature window in the sitting room. A fresh stack of wood was sitting next to the wee firebox, and a fresh tunic and breeches could be spied lying folded upon the low bed in the next room. Lodune gave a silent blessing to Mother Juule and her brood for the excellent treatment, then set about getting out of his clothes from the night before.

His heavy cowl and cloak had mostly dried from the rains of the night before, and these he hung on hooks behind the small door leading to his rooms. Stepping out of his soft boots, he unslung the bag from his back and set it on the small stool next to the table. His belt and tools he also slung across the stool. His woolen over-tunic was a stained mess, the dark brown wool smudged with grime from climbing the temple wall. His dark woolen breeches faired little better, although their dark color masked the stains. He untied his purse from around his waist and tossed it next to the plate of food, where it landed with a most satisfying "thud". His black leggings were simply damp, while his under-tunic, once a white color, was now damp and gray. There was also an unpleasant odor to the thing. Lodune made a mental note to visit the public baths in the Noble District later today.

Free from the damp clothing, he realized just how uncomfortable they had been. Flexing his water-wrinkled toes, he set into the plate of cheese and warm bread, downing the fresh milk in two swallows while taking in the scene of the spring morning outside his window. He was just considering a nap when a knock came from the door. Startled, he set down his roll and grabbed his rapier from where it stood propped next to the table.

"Yes?" he asked of the door.

"Thank the gods, you're in," came the man's familiar voice, "now would you please let me in?"

Lodune replaced the rapier and unlatched the door, standing unashamedly before the old fellow in his doorway. The man was well into his years, of dark complexion with scant peppered hair across his pate. A large, crooked nose dominate his clean-shaven face, his dark eyes set deep under bushy gray eyebrows. Shorter than Lodune, and lanky, he wore the livery of a noble house upon his tunic. He either hadn't noticed or didn't care that his host hadn't yet dressed.

"Ingen, you codger. Aarn's ass, it's been awhile since I've seen you. What brings you around? Come in, come in."

Lodune waved Ingen in, latching the door behind him. "Help yourself to one of Mother Juule's amazing rolls. You won't be disappointed," he said as he stepped into the sleeping chamber to fetch his fresh under-tunic.

Ingen helped himself to a roll, munching approvingly upon it as Lodune hurriedly dressed. From the sleeping chamber he heard Lodune ask, "So what brings you about? I can't believe such an early morning visit is purely social."

Ingen swallowed the last of the roll, truly impressed by its quality. "I'm glad you're here," he said, turning towards Lodune as he reentered the sitting room. "I tried to speak with your landlady downstairs, but I'll be damned if I could make out a single word she said."

Lodune laughed, "Indeed. It's one of the reasons I stay here. I'm not even sure she speaks any known language."

Both men chuckled and fell silent. Two heartbeats passed, and Lodune said, "So what do you need, old friend?"

The leathery skin of the older man's face broke into a slight smile. "Well, son, I've got a situation that could benefit from your...skills." With that, Ingen reached into his tunic and retreived a small silken bag which he handed to Lodune. Lodune whistled appreciatively, admiring the craftsmanship.

"Is this orcish silk?" he asked incredulously. The bag was made of fine silk, dyed green, and woven with geometric patterns. A soft black chord interwoven with gold thread held it shut. Something circular and heavy was inside.

"Indeed it is," Ingen said, "Go ahead, open it."

Lodune untied the chord and pulled open the bag. A whistle escaped his lips as he eyed the contents. It was an armband fashioned of copper and silver and inlaid with pieces of fire opal. The surface was etched with the bold, sharp lines typical of orcish craftsmanship. An orcish name was repeated within the design on the band.

"Miku Eguzko?" Lodune asked, unsure of his orcish.

"Very good, lad," said Ingen, "Do you know what this is, then?"

Lodune turned it over in his hands, thinking. He'd seen something like this before, but where? Looking closer, he found an inscription on the inside of the band, faint but legible. Surprisingly, it was in High Aarnish.

"For Theake Karkere, fuel of my soul," Lodune read aloud. A frown played across his face, but was immediately replaced by recognition.

"This is an orcish Pledge Band! By the Makers, Ingen, how did you come across this?" Orc warriors wore ornate armbands which displayed their name and house, symbolizing their pledge to honor and protect their families. Amongst the Warrior Caste, if a warrior felt a strong bond or connection with another warrior, they would swap an armband with one another as a pledge of love and devotion. Lodune had only ever seen them once, several years before, while traveling the orcish lands to the west. To his knowledge, they were considered nothing short of sacred family heirlooms.

"Right you are," Ingen said as he cleared off the low stool and helped himself to a seat. "Perhaps the name Karkere means something to you as well?"

"Now that you mention it..." Lodune said, trailing off. It was then that he noticed the Karkere crest woven into Ingen's coat. "Alright, Ingen. Care to let me in on what this is all about? As much as I'm enjoying this little visit, I'd like to think of myself as a busy man."

Ingen chuckled at the notion, then explained, "As you might recall, I'm working as headman for House Karkere these days. The master was appointed by the royal court as an ambassador to Heglak Weap, and it's there that he's spent the better part of these past two years. Well, him and his family with him.

"Now, what you mightn't have heard is that his lordship the ambassador was recently sent home by the ruler of Heglak Weap. As I hear it, they sent home all the ambassadors. It seems there's trouble brewing..."

"...in Southreach," Lodune finished, idly inspecting the armband. "I overheard something about that last night. Still, what's this have to do with you? And who is this Theake Karkere and how did he wind up with a Pledge Band? Who is this Miku Eguzko character, for that matter?"

"Ah," sighed Ingen, helping himself to a bit of cheese from the table, "now that is exactly the sad tale of which I've come to tell you. Theake is ambassador Osporro's son, and a fine young man he is, too. And this Miku Eguzko is apparently not only the son of the First General of the warrior caste of Heglak Weap, but nephew to the city's chieftain as well. Now, these two apparently took a significant shine to one another, much to the displeasure of Lord Osporro."

Lodune snorted derisively. In Lutholm, as with the rest of Valemark, homosexuality was viewed as an uncouth foreign behavior, beneath the standing of an upright citizen of the realm. Moreover, such a relationship with an orc would be seen as nothing short of unwholesome. An ambassador of Valemark would most certainly frown on such behavior out of concern for his social standing within the king's court.

"But here's the twist," the old headman continued, "His lordship the ambassador allowed his son to continue seeing this Miku fellow, using their bond as a bit of politcal leveraging. That is, until recent events caused Heglak Weap to send home the ambassadors from Valemark and Southreach.

"Lord Osporro and his family returned to Lutholm three days past, and young master Theake, already stricken from being seperated from his orc friend, was dealt another blow just yesterday morn. Lord Osporro discovered that his son still wore the Pledge Band that Miku Eguzko had given him. Well, his lordship was having none of that, I can assure you. He bid the lad to remove it if he knew what was best for him and the family's station.

"And that," finished Ingen, "is how I came into possession of the thing. The master gave it to me to deal with. So here I am, dealing with it."

Lodune gave the armband a final spin in his hand, then replaced it into the green silken bag. It was an expensive bauble, no mistake. He could think of at least three fences who'd pay top dollar for such a trinket, especially given its exotic pedigree. The look Ingen gave him, though, told him that selling it was out of the question.

"Alright you old softie, just what did you have in mind?" he said.

Ingen smiled. "Lord Osporro is recently returned from the orc city of Heglak Weap, where he's been stationed for these past three years. He came bearing news that the orcs had ejected him from the city, and that they intend to march on Helstaad. It seems they want to control the trade routes which Helstaad sits in the middle of. To ensure complacence on the part of Valemark, the orcs took young master Theake, the ambassador's son, prisoner."

"Wait a minute..." Lodune began, but Ingen finished the thought for him.

"Why would the orcs imprison one who had received a Pledge Band? Precisely the question I've asked myself, lad. The ambassador's been behaving in a fashion most peculiar for one who has had his son imprisoned by a foreign power. Honestly, he seems more concerned with securing Helstaad than with retrieving his son. And to find this Pledge Band...well, you know how the current aristocracy feel about that sort of thing."

Lodune nodded. The people of Valemark, like most of the Eastern Kingdoms, disapproved of same-sex intimacy. In Lutholm especially, the aristocracy considered such behavior uncouth, but such behavior with an orc would be considered utterly unwholesome. The orcs, however, encouraged such behavior amongst their warrior caste. It was amongst the warriors that the exchange of armbands was practiced, and to receive such a token was a sign of enduring love and fealty. To honor a human with such a token was a sign of deep devotion. If the ambassador's son had been given such a token, it was highly unlikely that the orcs would have him imprisoned.

And his father would never approve, Lodune concluded.

"So you see, old friend," Ingen continued, "I came to you straight-away once I found the armband. Something should be done, but I'm not sure what. I dare not confront the lord ambassador with this, but young Theake is as a son to me, much as you were so long ago."

"Not that long ago, old man," Lodune chuckled, "but I see your dilemma. Do you honestly believe that something's amiss? If the orcs are indeed planning on taking Helstaad for their own, who knows what they're thinking? The human lover of an orc warrior may be expendable leverage in such a situation."

Ingen shook his head. "I'm telling you, there's something not right with this, not right at all. Word around the ambassador's estate is that he's always resented being stationed in orc country. He'd hoped for a lofty station here in Lutholm, but there's some as says that he slighted someone close to the throne, and that be why he found himself ambassador to Heglak Weap. The man is bitter, I tell you. Bitter and capable of what only the dead and gods may know. Now, I know I haven't much to offer you in the way of payment for services, but it would mean the world to me if you could look into this. The ambassador's not making any plans for Theake's rescue, and one way or another something's happened to him...."

Lodune could hear the emotion quietly welling inside Ingen. He and Lodune had been shipmates many years before, when Lodune was a run-away slave who had inadvertantly found himself smuggled aboard a ship out of Oceania. Ingen had been the quartermaster aboard the ship, and had eventually taken Lodune in as an apprentice once the young stowaway proved himself useful. Ingen had helped make Lodune an accepted part of the crew, and had looked after him ever since. Forced to leave the sailing life due to failing health, Ingen took the job of running Ambassador Osporro's home while the ambassador was away [MUCH HANDWAVING HERE - NEED MORE HISTORY REGARDING SHIP LIFE AND WHAT HAPPENED]

"Right, then," said Lodune, slapping his hands together to help change the mood. "It occurs to me that I have of late been too long in Lutholm. Perhaps a visit to Heglak Weap will invigorate."

Old Ingen brightened at that, and stood somewhat quicker than his legs could accomodate. Lodune steadied him as he stood, swaying slightly.

"Oh, my dear, sweet boy. Your faithfulness is a continued honor to our fallen shipmates. Take the Pledge Band to Heglak Weap and seek out this Miku Eguzko fellow. See what he knows of Theake's incarceration. But do be careful, lad. If war is brewing, I don't want you caught in the midst of it. I don't want to know a life where I've outlived you as well."

Ingen gave Lodune an enormous bear hug then, tears welling in his eyes. With a peck to Lodune's forehead he left, leaving Lodune alone in his rooms.

"Well, then," Lodune said to the empty space, wipping a tear-swollen eye upon his sleave, "I suppose it's time I got to packing."

CHAPTER IV

Lodune spent the rest of the morning preparing for the trip he suddenly found himself about to embark upon. Truth be told, he had been feeling somewhat stagnant of late. An adventure outside of Lutholm was just the thing to put a spring back into his step.

He extended his trip to the baths in the Noble District with the excuse that it was likely to be the last decent bath he'd receive until reaching orc lands. Orcish baths were renowned for their rejuvenative properties, and it had be some time since Lodune had the please of enjoying one.

After the baths, Lodune set off to visit a contact he used whenever he wanted the inside information on political affairs. His contact, Larissa, was a scribe working in the King's scriptorium. She spent her days as one of the many scribes who produced writs and deeds and other official documents for the smooth operation of the kingdom. As such, she was in a prime location to collect information.

Normally he'd wait until Larissa returned to her home at the end of the day, but Lodune hoped to be on his way to Heglak Weap before nightfall. He'd need to work his way into the Keep, but he suspected that part would be easy, given his latest acquaintance.

Lodune worked his way through the Noble District, winding his way through the crowds of people, both noble and otherwise, who crowded the district's streets. The truly important and/or wealthy were carried by litter or carriage. Beggars abounded, as did pickpockets and members of the city watch. He came at last to the Keep, the inner defensive zone protecting the palace proper. Within were the various offices necessary to oversee the day-to-day functioning of the kingdom. A small group of city guards stood watch at the Keep's entrance, stopping any attempting access and letting only a few through. A sure sign that something is amiss, thought Lodune.

He hovered outside the gate for awhile, feigning interest in the random assortment of objects being sold by the peasants and beggers there. One of the guards standing watch at the gate was Kot, the shy watchman he'd spent the evening with the night before. Catching his eye, Lodune motioned subtly for him to move away from his compatriots. With a half-smile and a nod, the guard slowly wandered just outside of earshot of his companions as Lodune strode purposefully up to him.

"Good day, humble watchman," Lodune said, throwing in a slight bow for good measure, "I come seeking entrance to the Keep. I assure you I am expected."

Kot fixed Lodune with a stealy gaze, the shy awkwardness of the previous evening replaced with the confidence that comes with authority. He looked Lodune over critically, as if sizing up an opponent. "Expected indeed," he said at last, "I expected you to come around, but not so soon. Besides, I'm not off duty 'til after dark."

Kot smiled slightly then, casually looking about. Worried about his peers finding out, Lodune thought, may the gods grant that I shall not need to use that information.

"What is it you take me for?" Lodune asked in mock outrage. "I assure you that last night was strictly due to curiosity on my part. I can tell you right now that when next we meet, it will be strictly for comparison to our first encounter, and nothing more."

"And after that?" Kot asked, his eyes burning with mischief.

"And after that," Lodune said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "it will be because you're so damned good." He gave Kot a quick poke in the ribs and a wink.

Losing all pretense of confidence, Kot blushed brightly and waved Lodune on through the gate.

Once within the walls of the Keep, Lodune began to see sublte signs of what Ingen had said about war with the orcs. Extra guards were stationed outside buildings, and the usual mix of foreign dignitaries and petty officials was skewed, with many more bureaucrats than normal. Something did indeed appear to be going on. With luck, he'd know what it was soon enough.

The Keep consisted of a central garden plaza, dominated by a fountain and a shrine to Aarn. Low stone benches were placed strategically throughout the park, allowing private conversations outside the earshot of the other benches. Radiating out from the park were buildings that housed the administrative offices of the kingdom. Lodune made his way towards the Scriptorium, hoping that Larissa would be in.

There was a buzz of activity outside the Scriptorium as Lodune made his way towards the entrance. Scribes in the colorful livery of Valemark were busily coming and going, some with armloads of scrolls, others with heavy packs upon their backs. The extra guards at the door looked bored, and Lodune knew from previous experience that bored guards are the worst kind. Deciding against direct interaction with them, Lodune watched the entrance for several moments, taking careful stock of who was allowed to come and go.

It soon became apparent that a number of children were coming and going with impunity. They wore colorful, if filthy, smocks over their orphan rags, and most appeared to be leaving the Scriptorium empty-handed, but returning to it with food and drinks. Lodune caught the attention of one such returning urchin with the flash of a copper coin. The child immediately made his way to him.

"'Ello," the urchin said, eyes darting around Lodune, looking for where the glimpsed coin had gone off to. "You be needin' somethin', m'lord?"

Lodune reached between the child's eyes, carefully extracting the coin from between them. The child's eyes widened but quickly took on a suspicious cast.

"Alright, then. What's it you'd be wanting, then?" the kid said, no small amount of disdain in his voice.

"Not but a simple thing," Lodune said, taking one of the urchin's hands and pressing the coin into it. "I've a sister who works within the Scriptorium there, and I very much need to speak with her. As you know, I doubt the guards there will allow me to enter. If you could, would you please tell Larissa of Ten Isles that her brother Dee has come to see her?"

"Mistress Larissa's brother? No foolin'? I'll be telling her straight away then, m'lord. The mistress is a generous soul, not like most of them scribes." With that the urchin stashed the coin under the smock and bounded up the stairs into the Scriptorium without incident.

Lodune milled about the garden park outside the Scriptorium, idly adjusting his tunic and belt. Larissa of Ten Isles was at one time a non-sailing member of the crew of the ship which he and Ingen had served upon. Larissa managed the books for the ship, spending most of her time ashore doing figures, arranging warehouse space and buyers, and setting up less reputable arrangements as the situation and cargo warranted. Larissa had no brothers by birth, but an entire ship full of men called her sister. Larissa had come to the mainland after hearing about the sinking of the ship by rival privateers. She had hoped to find members of the crew still alive and either pressed into service aboard another privateering ship, or sold into slavery at the markets in Lutholm. Finding no one, she'd managed to fight her way into a position at the Scriptorium, where she eventually found of Ingen by way of papers stating the number of taxable heads within Ambassador Osporro's home. From there she learned that Lodune was also alive. The three had kept in contact ever since.

Dangerously close to reminiscing about the old crew, Lodune was spared by the sudden appearance of Larissa. Tall by Island standards, her brown skin and wavy black hair shined in the afternoon sun. Her dark scribe's robes were stained with darker ink, and the tip of her fingers were black as pitch, but her smile lit up her features through the outward signs of her profession. Spotting Lodune, she came at him in a run, arms wide open.

"Lodune!" she screeched, jumping into his arms, "It's so good to see you! It's been at least two moons since you last came by...." She trailed off, puzzled by the look of concern on Lodune's face.

"What? What is it?" she said, her voice growing anxious as she backed away. "Please tell me that Ingen's all right."

Lodune held the look of concern for another heartbeat, then looked her square in the eyes. "You're not going to stain my tunic with all..." he made a waving motion in front of her, "...that, are you? I just had this cleaned."

Another heartbeat and he was no longer able to maintain the facade. Laughing heartily, he went to embrace Larissa again but was greated with a swift and painful strike to his shoulder.

"Ow!" he yelped, hoping he sounded less surprised than he actually was. "By the gods, you have a vicious punch, little sister."

Larissa glared at him, softening as she looked him over. Lodune had been the youngest member of the crew, yet he insisted on calling Larissa 'little sister'. She had always liked it, though she'd never tell him that.

"Alright then, Little Brother," she said, allowing him a chance to rub the sting out of his shoulder, "What is it that you need? If you've come to see me here, then you must be in need of something."

"That I am," Lodune said, regaining his composure. He motioned for Larissa to stroll with him in the park, and the two headed off towards the fountain. The park was sweet with the smell of early flowers in bloom. Choosing a seat facing the fountain and the shrine, the two sat down and Lodune continued.

"Ingen visited me this morning. He's found something that would seem to indicate that his employer is not being completely forthright in regards to recent claims."

Larissa stared blankly, but purposefully, at him, a practiced look he'd seen all too often.

"Okay, okay. Sorry about that. Just in my current line of work, being vague is a useful trait," he said. "I'm not sure what you hear, here in the Scriptorium, but Ingen tells me that his master, Ambassador Osporro, recently returned from a tour of duty in Heglak Weap...." Lodune spelled out Ingen's concerns, and his own plans to look into the issue.

"So, little sister, I've come to see if you've heard anything about Helstaad or Heglak Weap, or the ambassador's imprisoned son, or anything else that might help me out."

Larissa was leaning into him, enjoying the sound of the fountain and the warm of the afternoon. She had seen scant little of Lodune in some time, and she worried about him a great deal. Him and Ingen, too. They were the last of her old family, the last connections to a life she could only remember in dreams. She wasn't sure if she should say anything, for fear of never seeing Lodune again. The expectant look he gave her, however, was enough to decide it for her.

"Oh, Ingen," she said with a sigh, "Why than man never married is beyond me. I think parenting would have suited him, what with his weakness for fathering wayward boys." She smiled and gave Lodune a nudge.

"Indeed," Lodune said, "but you know he was married to that ship. I sometimes wondered if even the captain could be as devoted as old Ingen was." They sat in silence a short time, letting the memory of their shipmates pass along the spring breeze.

"To answer your question," Larissa began, "I happen to have heard something regarding Heglak Weap just the other day. One of the scribes, Gerard I believe, was tasked with drawing up a writ for the arrest of Ismelat Urabi. She's the ambassador from Heglak Weap who's stationed here in Lutholm. A remarkeable woman, if rumors are to be heeded. The writ was peculiar in that it listed only vague charges, and something about the greater public good."

"And that's all?" Lodune asked.

"Now that you mention it, there have been a recent spate of requests for free passage documents. They're issued to ships seeking to travel inland via the river. The word around the Scriptorium is that a war might well be brewing, as free passage documents typically spike during war time."

Lodune stroked his chin, peering at some undefined spot in the distance. "And Ambassador Osporro? Anything you can tell me about him?"

"Only that he was sent to Heglak Weap some time ago. I've always had the impression that he was a minor functionary with a largely ceremonial position," Larissa said.

Lodune leaned over and gave Larissa a kiss on the forehead, then stood, stretching mightily. Offering a hand, he helped Larissa up as well.

"Lodune," she said, "you know you don't have to do this. Stay here in Lutholm for a bit, see how this develops before running off head first into gods know what. I know that the children would love to see their uncle Dee, and you know how much Jack likes to regale you with tales from the Merchants' Guild."

"Besides," she continued, wrapping her arms around him, "I could stand to see a bit more of you. And Ingen, too. You two were my first family, and it lifts my spirits whenever you're around."

Lodune returned the hug. Ginergerly at first (he really was worried by all that ink), but more earnestly as the impact of her words sank in. It had been a long time since he'd stopped in on her new family, and her children did adore him. Her husband did, too, in his own way. He was guarded around Lodune, but loved to knock back a pint or two and get to telling stories. It was a good life, and Lodune was happy to see that Larissa had landed on her feet after the tragedy of the "Tiger's Tail". But Ingen's story had struck a chord in Lodune, and he was determined to do right by his old mentor's wishes.

"Ah, Larissa, sweet sister," he said, pulling back just enough to look down into her eyes, "you know that you are in my thoughts at all times. You also know that I must do this thing for Ingen. And for me. If this Osporro's done anything to his son, then he will be made to pay for it."

A heartbeat passsed, then Lodune stepped back and indicated the ink stains on his tunic, "Looks like I'll be taking at least some of you with me." Grinning like a schoolboy caught in a prank, he jumped back as Larissa poked him in the stomach. The tears caught in her eyes were softened by the smile on her lips.

"You enormous brat. Just be careful out there, and hurry back. I want you to see the children before their next Festival. Now go, before it grows too late for you to replace that tunic."

Lodune gave a grand and exaggerated bow, blowing a kiss to Larissa as she retruned to the Scriptorium. He stood and watched until she had disappeared within the darkness beyond the threshold. With a quiet sigh, he headed back off to the Keep gates.

Passing through the gates, a newly familiar voice called out to him.

"Citizen! A word, if you please," said Kot, motioning for Lodune to join him over by the guard tower. Lodune walked over absent mindedly, preoccupied by his conversation with Larissa.

"Been to the Scriptorium, have we?" Kot said, indicating the stains on Lodune's tunic. Lowering his voice, he said, "And here I'd hoped you only had eyes for guards."

Lodune looked the city watchman in the eye, wondering how much longer the guard would be so...eager. Experience had taught him that such behavior wore out its welcome in short order. Still, Kot was an amazing find. Perhaps he'd grow out of it?

"It's as they say," Lodune said with a wink, "the pen is mightier than the sword."

Without missing a beat, Kot replied, "Aye, that they do say. But 'tis the name of the most skilled wielder which you quietly call out in the lonely hours of the night." He grabbed himself suggestively, then turned and walked away.

Honestly surprised, Lodune stood a moment and watched him go. Then, with a hearty chuckle, he headed towards the Garment District. He really did need a new tunic. Or two.

Chapter V

The long shadows of afternoon found Lodune once more at the warves. His recent influx of coins was nearly spent, but he'd outfitted himself rather well for it. A new pack sat comfortably upon his back, complete with a fresh change of clothes, some tools, and a tin of hard rolls and crackers made fresh by Mother Juule that day. New soft boots adorned his feet, each boot with a freshly sharpened dagger. His rapier was also freshly sharpened and slung at his side. Upon his head was a dark woolen cowl, with a matching cloak pulled over the pack.

A chill wind blew in from the ocean, traveling up the river. Lodune was casing the river-side warves, looking for a likely ship to transport him inland, across the [LAKENAME] to Helstaad.

The river side warves were filled to capacity with every imagineable kind of vessel. Skiffs and dinghies sat moored next to larger [SHIPTYPE] and [SHIPTYPE], and the more common low barges often seen meandering up and down the river. Longshoreman and crewmen hustled about the docks as several of the boats prepared to get underway before nightfall.

Lodune moved casually through the bustle, accustomed to the ebb and flow of activity found on the docks. Quartermasters shouted obscenities at longshormen as crates were hoisted into holds, and the nearby ocean lent its scent to the breeze. Lodune almost felt compelled to jump into the action, if just to see if anyone would notice.

Continuing along the docks, he came upon a miid-sized [SHIPTYPE], alive with a bustle that put the othe busy crews to shame. The ship, named the "Crimson Pike", sat low in the water. From the look of the crates and barrels being hoisted into the hold, it was hauling grain and sugar from the Three Cities further inland to the lands surrounding the lake. A clean and well-tended vessel, it also appeared to be entirely crewed by women. Lodune was immediately intrigued.

Weaving around the longshoremen who were preparing the next pallet for loading into the hull, Lodune worked his way to a better vantage. The women aboard the "Crimson Pike" moved with a rhythm and timing that could only come from years of working together. Cargo was being swiftly loaded and organized along side supplies and equipment. At the center of the action stood a tall woman, dark complexioned and aubern haired. Her face bore the tell-tale signs of life on the open ocean - minute lines from the harsh salt air, and a gaze that suggested she was forever focused on the horizon.

Of the cargo little could likely be discerned by the untrained eye. Lodune had seen a number of casks of Indaran wine being loaded aboard, as well as a pallet full of brandy from Southreach. Many bags of grains and beans were also lowered into the hold, along with crates which bore the mark of the Weavers' Guild. The grain and beans were most likely headed to the desert city of Ahzikaam, as it was along the route to Helstaad, which was known for its consumption of the highly-prized Southreach brandy. The crates of woven goods were likely going to Helstaad or somewhere else further inland, toward the mountain kingdoms of the orcs. The perfect transportation for me, Lodune thought wryly. Now to get the ladies to let me aboard.

Around the head woman danced an excellent crew. Women from across the eastern seaboard set about preparing the "Crimson Pike" to set sail, from the short, swarthy women of Oceania, to the tall, tanned, fair women of Valemark and Southreach. To Lodune's surprise, there was even an orc woman aboard, easily hoisting large sacks of vegetables and grain over her shoulders and carrying them towards the galley. Orcs rarely spent time outside of the orc city-states, unless on official orc business. To see an orc as part of a human crew was unusual. Indeed, even seeing an orc aboard a ship was strange - being creatures of the mountains, their exposure to water-borne vessels was extremely limited.

Lodune bided his time, waiting for a moment that would allow him to speak with the one he assumed was the captain. Catching such a moment, he strode up the gangblank as the latest pallet was being lowered to the deck. The woman he assumed was the captain of the vessel spun around as Lodune approached, her hand instictively going to the hilt of her dagger stashed into her belt.

"That's far enough," she growled at him, her voice rough from shouting orders above the din. "State your business, and be quick about it. We've a schedule to keep, and you're an unwelcome distraction."

Lodune lifted his arms slightly, empty palms facing the woman. He bowed slightly, not taking his eyes off of her.

"Forgive the intrusion mistress. I shall keep this brief. I seek passage aboard your vessel. I assume from your cargo that you plan on stopping at Ahzikaam first, and then off to Helstaad. I seek swift passage to Helstaad, and can pay you for the trouble. I am also an experienced seaman, and can keep myself useful and out from under foot," Lodune said, watching the woman's reaction. It was somewhat more negative than he'd expected.

"Aye, so you fancy yourself a smart lad then, do you?" she spat out. She barked an order at the longshoremen on the docks, then turned back to Lodune. "What makes you think we have room for the likes of you? In case you hadn't noticed, me and mine, we don't need nor want the presence of men aboard our vessel. You're lot are enough to fill the time ashore, but there's not the time nor space for male foolishness up my ship."

The captain turned to go then, ending the conversation, just as the orc crewmate returned above deck. Lodune needed swift passage, and this ship appeared to offer just that, and with an itinerary that suited him perfectly. Taking a chance, he quickly withdrew the pouch with the Pledge Band from beneath his tunic, holding it up enough so that the shining afternoon sun caught the fire opals. As expected, the orc crewmate caught sight of the armband, and strode over rather quicker than Lodune would have liked.

"Mistress, if I may," said Lodune, preparing to flee if need be. The captain spun back around, fury flashing across her brow, only to be stopped by sight of the bejeweled armband. The orc leapt over a sack of beans, surprise and fury in her eyes.

"Filthy 'gordura'!" the orc belted out at Lodune, her voice husky and low.

"'Takeng kenai!'" Lodune shot back without thinking. He spent some small time amongst the orcs in his past, and he knew which orcish phrases to sling when being insulted.

Lodune stepped back reflexively as the orc's thick hand went to her dagger. The orc was darkly complexioned, with the greenish-brown pigmentation of her race. Her long, straight black hair was tied back in a bun, revealing her small, pointed ears. Her face was broad, with a flat nose and eyes like brown pools specked with gold. Her rather massive arms were bare, the sleeves of her shirt having been ripped off. Faint lines of tattoos could be seen within the pigmentation of her arms, in the angular style of orcish art.

The captain of the vessel jumped between Lodune and the rampaging orc, almost casually. "What's this, then?" the captain said, nodding towards the armband Lodune held.

"Well," Lodune began, "it's a..."

"Silence, dog!" the orc spat out contemptuously. "Captain, this churlish fool of a man holds an object considered sacred by my people. It is not something of which we openly speak. Know that there is no way one such as he could have come into possession of such a trinket without some sort of trickery or foul play. I say we let him aboard, then slay him. Won't be murder if it's done on our ship."

Lodune allowed himself a smile. He liked the orc, even if she was asking to kill him.

"Be that as it may, Sahana, I wonder what he meant to gain by showing it to us?" said the captain, turning back to Lodune and looking annoyed.

"By your leave, mistress captain, I sought only to illustrate my urgent need to book passage upon your vessel," Lodune said. "Your mate is correct in her observation - the object I carry is indeed a sacred orcish token, and I find myself honor-bound to see that it is returned to its rightful owner. Time is an issue, if rumors coming out of Helstaad are to believed."

Lodune hastily returned the armband to its colorful pouch, which he then stashed safely under his tunic.

Both the orc and her captain stiffened at the mention of Helstaad. The orc, especially, seemed displeased. The captain spoke first, "Many rumors have been coming out of Helstaad of late, and most of them conflict. One such as yourself ought not to be concerning himself with such talk. Now, if you'd kindly remove yourself from my gangplank and my sight." With that, the captain moved purposefully away, ending the conversation. Sahana the orc was left, glowering at Lodune.

"I am to see that you leave this ship, human, never to return," she said, menacingly.

"Very well, then," Lodune said, looking dejected. Heading down the plank, he paused at the bottom and shouted up to the orc, "Tell me, lass - does the name Miku Eguzko mean anything to you?"

The orc's jaw dropped open revealing the exaggerated canines common to her people. "Errikor's tit!" the orc exclaimed. Staring at Lodune in surprise, she quickly joined him at the foot of the plank. Standing close enough to Lodune that he could see the pores of her nose, she spoke through clenched teeth, "Whoever you are, little man, you'd best explain to me quickly just who you are and what you're up to, or I swear by my ancestors that I'll cut you down where you stand."

Placing all faith in this final gambit, Lodune replied, "The Pledge Band which I carry was given by Miku Eguzko to the young liege in the charge of a dear friend. My friend has asked that I seek out his charge, that I may return the trinket and ensure its owner's well-being. Now, I do not know who this Miku Eguzko is, but I'm quite sure he would want his beloved to carry his favor. Therefore, I must make haste to Helstaad, and from thence to Heglak Weap, that I might make right this unfortunate situation."

Lodune braced himself for a blow, his legs coiled to spring out of the way. Sahana's expression was impossible to read, but within several heartbeats it had softened.

"Either you speak lies, or you're a great fool, little man," she said, "House Eguzko is headed by Lord Eguzko, first brother to the emperor of Heglak Weap. Miku is his son, and a talented warrior from what I've heard. House Eguzko is a noble and honorable house. If Miku has pledged his favor to someone, then Miku should be informed of whatever has happened to his beloved. Come, I shall speak to the captain on your behalf. 'Twould be better to have you in sight than running about, flashing the Pledge Band of an orc lord about as if it were a cheap bauble."

Sahana lead the way back up the plank, Lodune trailing respectfully behind. Several of the other crewmates had slowed their labors enough to see what Sahana was doing. The captain swore at her crew, driving them to finish filling the hold. Upon seeing Lodune once more at the head of the plank, the captain snapped at Sahana, demanding an explanation. The orc pulled the captain aside, their voices lowering in the din of the docks.

Lodune looked about idly, waiting for a response. The other women of the crew ranged in age from their teens to some indeterminate middle age, the truth of their age hidden behind weather-beaten faces and a lifetime of hard living. All-woman crews were not unknown amongst the sailing people of Oceania, but they were exceedingly rare. Many male captains wouldn't take on female crewmates, and one of the only ways to gain a ship of one's own was to have years of sailing experience.

Sahana and the captain walked to where Lodune stood a few moments later.

"You've convinced my first mate here that you should be allowed passage on my ship," the captain said. "Whatever your story or purpose, I don't want to hear about it. Six silver pieces up front and you may book passage with us. The fee is not negotiable - I don't like the looks of you, but Sahana has made you her charge. You are to do whatever she tells you to do.

"You're allowed a single pack, and Sahana will find room for you to birth down bellow. And Mister..." the captain trailed.

"Lodune, captain," Lodune said quickly.

"Mister Lodune, know this - if you should so much as give one of my crew a sideways glance, an idle word, or a simple grope, I will personally have you skewered and fed to the waves. Do I make myself clear?"

"Quite, mistress captain," Lodune said.

"You may address me as Captain Levka, or captain. Try to restrain yourself from starting converstations. Now, I have a ship to finish preparing for departure and you've taken enough of our time. We set sail at dusk. If you have belongs to collect, Mister Lodune, I suggest you get to it. I will leave without you."

Lodune dug about in his purse, feeling for six silver pieces. The price was steep, but the arrangement was likely a good one. Fishing about, he found six silver coins. These he gave to Captain Levka, who took them with hardly a glance in his direction.

"You heard the captain," Sahana said, "We set sail soon. Collect your things, and quickly. I'll expect you here before dusk."

Lodune thanked her in his broken orcish, then hurried down the gangplank. Several ships and smaller vessels appeared to be making ready to launch this evening. Unusual, Lodune thought, but then these were unusual times. Weaving expertly through the crowds, he disappeared in the direction of Mother Juule's shop.

CHAPTER VI

Lodune returned to the "Crimson Pike" as the late afternoon shadows reached their zenith. He had collected his things from his rooms above Mother Juule's shop, and had explained to Mother Juule that he would be out of town for some number of days, and not to rent out the room 'til two moons had passed. There was nothing of note left in the room, but he'd like to keep it once he returned to Lutholm. He'd hoped that two moons would be ample time to find Theake Karkere.

Writing out a hasty message for Ingen, he sealed it and gave it to one of Mother Juule's older grandchildren to deliver. The note explained he was heading to Helstaad by way of Ahzikaam, aboard the ship "Crimson Pike". He gave a copper coin to the child, and then sped his way to the riverside warves.

The "Crimson Pike" was in the final stages of preperations. Captain Levka was still shouting orders and swearing at her crew as Lodune climbed the gangplank. Stopping at the head of the plank, he waited until he had caught the captain's eye.

"Permission to come aboard, captain," Lodune said, hoping the formality would please the captain.

Levka eyed him steadily, pausing for two heartbeats before replying, "Permission granted, Mister Lodune." Lodune had a difficult time reading her features, but she seemed to soften some as she immediately returned to issuing commands. She was obviously a remarkable individual, and Lodune looked forward to learning more about her, if at all possible.

With permission granted, Lodune stepped aboard the "Crimson Pike". The gentle movement of the deck beneath his feet flooded him with memories of his own time as a sailor, and he was slipping into a deep nostalgia when Sahana came up to him. Strands of dark hair hung around her broad face, having fallen from the tight bun of earlier today.

"Well then," the orc said, sizing him up, "I think we've got space in the hold for you and your pack. I'll have a hammock setup for you down above the "karta" beans. Until then, find some place out of the way so we can launch this beast. The captain's got a tight schedule planned."

Lodune watched as she walked away, giving the order to setup a hammock to one of the younger crewmates. Sahana appeared to have a position of importance aboard the "Crimson Pike", and the crew seemed eager to make her happy. Lodune found a spot behind the [TECHNICAL SHIP COMPONENT] and unslung his pack, setting it at his feet. The captain gave the order to pull up the gangplank, and moorings were slipped as the ship was made ready to leave port. Sahana headed aft to the tiller, and Captain Levka joined her there. The lone yardsail filled as the cog left port, heading up river towards the great inland lake.

The bustle of the crew, along with the steady sound of the water lapping at the hull of the ship, drew Lodune into a deep reverie. He loved being aboard a ship again, even if it did mean remembering his time aboard the "Tiger's Tail" so many years ago.

It was a hot, dry afternoon in Higar, the port town of the Three Cities. A young Lodune, barely 12, furtively cased the market vendors, looking for a chance to pinch a bit of bread or some fruit. He had been living on the streets of Higar for three days after escaping the cruel smith who owned him. Lodune's father, a bereaved drunk of a farmer from outside the Three Cities, had lost Lodune in a game of chance with a group of merchants and traders some years before. The smith who had won him had enslaved him at his shop, assigning him menial, back-breaking tasks, and allowing the other servants to harass and bully him. Having finally had enough abuse at the hands of the staff and the smith and his family, Lodune fought back at one of the other servants, wounding him messily. Lodune had fled to the streets then, and for three days had hid from city watch and anyone who might have had business with the smith.

Lodune had found that the city watch thinned noticeably around the docks, so it was there that Lodune headed after successfully pinching a loaf of bread. Impossibly tired and fearful of being found by the city watch or a gang of street orphans, Lodune found a comfortable place to curl up and hide and enjoy his much-needed meal. Squeezed between a couple of large crates and hidden under a tarp, Lodune hastily consumed his prize. Within moments, the exhausted child fell asleep for the first time in several days.

Lodune awoke, confused. The sounds of the dock had been replaced with a steady creaking sound, and the air was musty and stale. Looking out from under the tarp, he discovered that he was in a dark room that smelled of pitch and sea water. Cursing his luck, he carefully left his hiding place to explore the hold of the ship he found himself on.

The hold was full of sacks of dried beans and crates and barrels. Lodune could hear voices from above, as well as a tremendous snoring elsewhere in the hold. Working his way carefully through the cargo, Lodune finally came to an area strung with hammocks. A lone lantern provided illumination, throwing the two sleeping crewmen into shadowed relief. Confused and frightened, Lodune sought refuge under the ladder that lead out of the hold. Stepping into the darkness, he stepped on the fingers of a sailor sleeping there. The sailor let out a yelp and sat up, groggy and surprised. The sound had awoken the other two sailors who had been sleeping in their hammocks as well. Grabbing Lodune by the scruff of his neck and shouting "Stowaway! Stowaway!", the sailors dragged him above deck.

Lodune was blinded by the sunlight, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright day. The sailors took him to the waist of the ship and threw him down, where he crumbled like a wet sack. He heard several voices, none of them friendly, speaking about him. A murmur of suggestions came from all directions, several of them unwholesome, and all of them terrible. Lodune kept his head down, awaiting the next stage in the never-ending punishment that was his life.

As the crowd grew tight around him, a voice came booming from behind the throng. "Here now! Make way! Ya filthy swine, out of me way! Make way!"

The voice, strong and full of authority, came closer, and Lodune turned to look. Emerging from the crowd was an older man, bandana tied tightly around his head, and a cap above that. The man's eyes were steely and sharp, the kind that missed nothing. His nose was somewhat askew, probably from having been broken years before. His demeanor was one of annoyed responsiblity, and he was obviously not happy at having all his men distracted from their work. Lodune decided he was the captain.

"What's this, then?" the man said, staring down at Lodune.

Lodune looked up, answering feebly, "My name is Lodune, if it pleases you, sir."

"Lodune, is it then?" said the man disdainfully, "Do tell us, young master Lodune, just what it is that you were doing in our hold."

Lodune's mind raced, trying to remember what had happened. Putting the pieces together as well as he could, he constructed a mostly-true tale about crawling up to sleep under the tarp, only to awaken aboard the ship. He carefully left out the part about running away from his master, or of having pinched a loaf of bread.

The man looked Lodune over, stroking the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. His eyes, though, never stopped looking hard and cold. "So then, you say you've been asleep for two days in our hold? Well then, young master, we do hope you've enjoyed your stay aboard our humble ship, but times come for ye to leave. Be sure to tell all yer friends about our particular hospitality."

The crowd of sailors cheered evily, then hoisted Lodune into the air. Small and weak from hunger, he was powerless to resist them. The crowd justled him towards the bulwark, where he was able to take in the scene around him. He was on a caravel of some kind, with three sails and elaborate riggings. All around, for as far as he could see, was open ocean. The reality of the situation had finally sunken in - he was going to be thrown overboard. He began struggling frantically, but in vain. His imagination filled with images of half-heard stories of monsterous sea creatures and villianous mermaids and impossibly deep water. Thrashing wildly, he was preparing to bite into one of the sailors when someone shouted "Captain on deck!"

Lodune was dropped ungraciously to the deck and held firm by one of the sailors. Everyone seemed to stiffen, including the man Lodune had thought was the captain. Fearing for himself, Lodune prepared for some kind of devestating, final judgement before being tossed beneath the waves.

The actual captain of the ship was a tall man, dressed in black breeches and a long blue coat, with an ornate hat with brightly-colored feathers. His peppered gray beard was neatly trimmed, and his eyes had the same steely quality as the other man's. Looking at Lodune with scarcely contained disgust, he shouted out, "Quartermaster Ingen! What is...this...doing aboard my ship?"

The man who had first suggested that Lodune be tossed into the sea spoke quickly, "'Tis nothing but a wee stowaway, captain! Nothing the sea can't take care of well enough."

"Tell me, Quartermaster," replied the captain, "How is it that you let a stowaway aboard, and then failed to spot him in the two days we've been out of port?" The captain looked at the quartermaster, staring him down. The quartermaster lowered his eyes.

"Well, sir, he says he's been asleep since before we left port. Says he fell asleep under a tarp on one of the pallets as we took aboard, sir."

"Asleep all that time, eh?" said the captain, staring back down at Lodune. The captain seemed to be weighing several options in his mind, finally saying, "So tell us, lad, why it is we shouldn't feed you to the depths?"

Lodune gulped dryly, faced with the daunting task of having to explain why he should exist. He tried to come up with something, anything that he could do or offer that would keep him from becoming shark food. All eyes of the crew looked at him expectantly.

"Come on, boy, out with it!" demanded the captain. The sailor's grip on Lodune's shoulders tightened.

"I...I...I know a little about smithing! And husbandry! And...and...knots! I'm good with a rope, sir, just you see. I'll be an excellent sailor, sir, and I don't eat hardly anything at all! Just please don't feed me to the sea serpents!"

The captian laughed at that. "Very well then, boy. You may stay aboard my ship as long as you pull your own weight. You'll find whatever husbandry skills you have are unlikely to be useful to you here, but we may have need of someone with smithing experience. And well you should know rope, boy. It'll save us all."

The captain turned and addressed the quartermaster, "Master Ingen! Seeing as how you failed to find our young guest before we left port, consider him your responsibility. I want him turned into a sailor, and quickly. Should he fail to have become a sailor in a week's time, then we'll be throwing him overboard."

The captain tapped the side of his nose as he said this, and the quartermaster grinned.

"Very good, sir!" said the quartermaster, "I'll see to his training personally, captain. You shan't be disappointed, sir."

"See that I'm not," the captain replied. Then, a dark cast coming over the captain's features, he said, "And Ingen, see that such problems do not occur in the future, or else it shall be you who's feeding the 'serpents."

The captain turned sharply and strode back to the aftcastle, never looking back.

Master Ingen began shouting orders and threats to the crew, who scrambled to return to work. Lodune was left alone in the middle of the deck, shocked that he was still aboard the ship. Master Ingen looked down at him, shaking his head.

"Well then, young master, let's get ye started. A meal is the first order of business, as we can't have ye passing out while we works ya to death. Now come on!" Ingen slapped him on the back and directed him to the galley.

Lodune was shaken out of his reminiscing by one of the crew of the "Crimson Pike". He was unsure how long he'd been lost in thought, but he noted that the sun had gone completely below the horizon, and the sky was rapidly giving way from a dusky blue to a star-speckled black. He always lost track of the time whenever he started thinking about his time aboard the "Tiger's Tail", even after all these years.

The crewwoman said his name again, obviously growing annoyed.

"Come along then, you," she said, turning to leave, "there's a little food left in the galley, if you're of a mind to be eating tonight."

Lodune shook himself out of his reverie and, collecting his pack, and followed the mate below deck. She gestured toward the prow of the ship, indicating that his hammock had been strung above a shipment of "karta" beans. She then pointed out the galley at the aft end of the ship. Lodune headed towards his berth, dropping his pack and sword and cloak and cowl off. He hopped none of it would be needed over dinner.

The galley was a tiny space, and the crew, ten women strong, was mostly present to enjoy the repast of stewed vegetables and salted meat. By the quality of the food, Lodune could tell that the ship did well for itself. Any profits made could easily be split amongst the light crew, making everyone that more eager to see that shipments arrived on time.

Lodune squeezed his way into the small galley space, which doubled as berths when not otherwise in use, and all eyes were on him as he accepted his bowl of stew and meat. The room was palpable with suspicion, but he noticed that a few faces held a curiosity that he was well acquainted with. He hoped he wouldn't have to fend off advances - he didn't want the captain to think he had done anything untowards with her crew.

Armed with his dinner, he faced the difficult decision of where to eat. He could stick to himself and eat on deck, setting up a boundary between himself and the crew, or he could dine with them in the galley and hope for the best. The voyage was only going to be a couple of days, so he saw no great need to ingratiate himself, but one never knew when new friends and acquaintances could come in useful. Besides, they seemed like a damned interesting crew - their story would be worth the hearing.

Spotting Sahana, he squeezed himself through the throng to sit next to the big-boned orc. She grunted acknowledgement of him as he squeezed in beside her. Looks of mild amusement and surprise followed him as he sat, no doubt due in large part to his choice of dining companions. The galley grew quiet as the crew shot glances back and forth at one another. Lodune felt like saying something, but thought better of it. If the crew was going to be comfortable with him in their midst, they'd have to take the first step.

A few tense moments passed in the galley as the crew slurped their stew. The silence was finally broken by the sound of one of the crew breaking wind loudly. The galley erupted in laughter and accusations, and in moments the scene had returned to the boisterous, noisey state it had enjoyed before Lodune sat down. Effectively hidden next to Sahana, Lodune was able to get a sense for the crew as they got down to the business of boasting and telling tales.

The meal progressed without further incident, and soon the crew returned to the task of sailoring the vessel. Lodune wandered above decks after dinner, and was greated by a couple of the crew singing a traditional sailor's song while stowing gear. Lodune was familiar with the tune, but had never heard women's voices singing it before. Lodune began singing the tune along with them, quiety to himself. He was absently tapping his foot in time to the music when captain Levka approached him.

"A good evening to you, sir," she said, taking in the quaint scene with him. She was smoking a long pipe, and fragrant smoke blew softly behind her. "Now, either you're an accomplished liar, or you really have served time upon a ship. Scant few landsmen would know that tune."

"Aye, 'tis true," Lodune said, his voice heavy. "I served aboard the "Tiger's Tail" many years back. It was..."

"You served with Captain Malam?" Levka asked, incredulous.

Lodune nodded, but was cut off before he could speak.

"A right proper bastard, he was. Shrewed in business, and an excellent captain from all accounts. He beat my old captain out of a sizeable job running raw silver from Linth to Lutholm."

Lodune snapped his fingers and said, "That was your ship we beat? Captain Malam threatened to feed us all to the deep if we failed to get to Linth before you did. I'd never seen such fire in his eyes over a simple job before."

"I'm not surprised," Levka said, slowly blowing smoke, "Captain Malam and Captain Bede had come up together, as I heard it. Fierce rivals, but always in a gentlemanly sort of way. Proper captains, they were. Captain Bede had us flying our colors at half-mast for several days after we heard what had happened to the "Tiger's Tail".

The two stood in silence a long while, listening as the crew finished their chores and their singing. Soon, only the sound of the waves lapping against the hull could be heard. The night was clear and bright with a waxing moon, and the wide river was calm.

CHAPTER VII

It was midway through the fifth day when the "Crimson Pike" made it's way into the port city of Ahzikaam. The winds had been favorable, and the journey from Lutholm had been uneventful.

The countryside, or what could be seen from the center of the wide river, was increasingly arid. The temperate flora of the eastern seaboard had begun to give way to the dry and rocky landscape that marked the outermost edge of the Sea of Radiamma's Tears, a vast desert said to have been created when the goddess Radiamma lost her mortal consort due to a jealous divine suitor. The Tears held a number of small settlements, and a handful of towns, all centered around deep wells and the occassional oasis.

Ahzikaam was a truly magnificent city. Situated on the shore of the great inland lake, the city was built upon the very site from which the stones used in the buildings were quarried from. More buildings meant more quarrying meant more space to build, and so Ahzikaam flourished because of this ratio of building materials to land. As a result of this, the city stretched up and down the side of the lake, with several well-crafted warves situated along its length. Stately, slender towers and massive, low domes marked the skyline, and behind it all rose a shear rock face, the natural wall that separated Ahzikaam from the Radiamma's Tears. The wall rose some forty feet above the floor of the city, and some of the taller towers and domes buildings rose above that mark, offering fine viewing of the surrounding country.

Dominating the nominal center of the city was the vast Palace of the Guilds, the political and economic heart of the city. The Palace stood two stories tall, with a massive central dome rising above that. This central dome was in turn surrounded by three lesser domes, out of which sprouted tall towers which easily rose sixty feet or more into the sky and were capped with low domes. All the domes glittered with gold, and the whole building was made of quarried stones in varying hues of red and tan. The Palace was iconic, symbolizing the wealth and talent of the people of Ahzikaam. The glittering spires and domes were a welcoming beacon to any coming into the city, visible for miles around from either the lake or Tears side approach.

Lodune took in the sight and sighed. It had been some time since his last visit to Ahzikaam, and he missed its many attractions. The craftsmen of Ahzikaam were renowned for the engineering prowess, and the city was rife with clever contraptions, such as indoor plumbing, lifts, and other conveniences. Lodune also enjoyed the company of the city's people. Black skinned like all the native inhabitants of the desert region, the men and women of Ahzikaam were also more literate than the average citizen of Valemark or any of the eastern kingdoms. The city was prosperous, and the Guilds saw to the education of the population, as it produced better craftsmen. The only downside Lodune had ever found with the city was the harsh penal code; the Guilds took a stance of "zero tolerance" towards criminal activities of any kind, no matter how insignificant the crime or how significant the personage caught. Only the highest ranking members of the Guilds could act with impunity, much to the chagrin of the city's inhabitants. The wealth and comfort the city offered offset the frustration at this double standard, however, and the citizenry was generally content. Lodune liked to take his holidays in Ahzikaam whenever he was between jobs.

Captain Levka shouted orders at the crew of the "Crimson Pike" as the city came closer. Soon the crew was busy with docking preparations as the ship glided into port, gently pulling alongside the dock with precision. Sahana was an excellent pilot, indeed, Lodune thought.

As the "Crimson Pike" was moored to the dock, Captain Levka ascended to the aftcastle and rang a bell which hung there. All hands not busy with the tying down of the ship turned their attention to the captain.

"Excellent work today, women," she began, "Welcome back to Ahzikaam. We'll spend the rest of the afternoon unloading some of our cargo, after which you're each entitled to some shore leave. That does not mean you, Kasarra. Not after our last trip through here."

Lodune scanned the crowd and immediately picked out Kasarra. The rest of the crew was whistling and ribbing her good naturedly; it sounded like she'd run afoul of the law somehow when they were last here.

The captain continued, "Remember to behave yourselves - the laws and customs here are quite strict, as is our own schedule. We leave at sunrise tomorrow morning - anyone not aboard will be left behind. Understood?"

The captain eyed Lodune purposefully, who nodded slightly in return. The rest of the crew let out a mighty "Aye, Captain!" in unison, then set about preparing to empty some of the stock out of the ship's hold. Lodune climbed the aftcastle and approached the captain.

"By your leave, Captain Levka," he said, "I've business to attend to on shore and would like to get an early start to it. With your permission?"

"Granted," the captain replied, her attention focused on the manuevering of the crew. "Just remember, what I told my crew goes for you as well. We leave promptly after sunrise. And mister Lodune, I want nothing scandalous associated with my ship. See that I am not dissappointed."

Lodune smirked and said, "I've nothing more scandalous than a hot bath planned, captain. If you're of a mind, I'd recommend the baths at Master Hasmyrax's, just north of the Palace, near the stalls of the incense merchants. Tell Master Hasmyrax I sent you. You'll appreciate it."

The captain's face visibly faltered, a hint of amusement playing across her stern features, but then it was gone. She said nothing more to Lodune, focusing her voice and attention on her crew and the cargo. Lodune turned and left the ship, somewhat saddened by going ashore. Life aboard a ship with a tight crew and a good captain was an intoxicating thing, and something he missed a great deal, when he let himself. For now, however, he had work to do. Without a backwards glance, he headed away from the docks and deep into the city.

CHAPTER VIII

The dusty streets of Ahzikaam were filled with people from across the world, and Lodune could place most of them. The tall, dark-skinned native inhabitants of the region were offset by the short, swarthy natives of the islands of the Oceanic Council. A thick, pale man from the eastern kingdoms, most likely the Holy Kingdom of Aarn, walked beside a stocky Wouan, a member of the nomadic horsemen from the northern steppes. The occassional orc could also be seen, though they tended to keep their own company. The orc's house insignia glittered brightly in the noonday light, and all about the city came the buzz of commerce and industry.

Ahzikaam was the commercial center of the world. Few guilds in the world did not have representation within the Palace of the Guilds, and those guilds that were not represented in the Palace were likely illegal within the confines of Ahzikaam itself. Although the city was founded on the idea of fair and free trade, there were those commercial elements which the Palace did not like to see within the city proper. Neither the Slayers Guild nor the Slavers Guild were to be officially found within the city, although it was accepted that business dealing with these groups were often made within Ahzikaam, and then carried out in foreign locales with less stringent legal codes.

Still, a city with a wealthy population and world wide influence could not completely escape the seedier, more questionable commercial dealings. The Palace simply looked the other way most of the time, happy enough as long as the gold continued to flow freely.

[INSERT TRANSITIONAL SCENE HERE - NEED TO INTRODUCE SENTINALS - BLECH]

Lodune set off towards the tenements of Ahzikaam in search of his friend and occassional companion Khair, a member of the Sentinals of K'sai and a talented guide. The Sentinals were a loosely knit fraternity of skilled warriors who were called to the service by visions granted by the god K'sai. Young men and women receiving the calling typically sought out older mentors from within the brotherhood, training with them until such a time as the mentor felt satisfied that their charge had gained adequate skill and wisdom. Upon being released by their mentors, Sentinals recieved visions from K'sai, compelling them to some part of the world in need of their aid. Once so appointed to an area, Sentinals became deeply connected with the flora and fauna of the region, able to move about the wilderness with great ease and speed. All Sentinals were talented herbalists and naturalists, thought to be able to communicate with the creatures of the areas in their charge. While K'sai drove Sentinals to protect the weak and the innocent, most principalities feared them as unaligned rabble rousers. For their part, the Sentinals didn't appear to have a specific political agenda, as near as Lodune could tell. The Sentinals were just oddly earnest individuals seeking to do good in the world.

Lodune hoped he'd be able to find Khair without having to resort to asking another Sentinal for help. Lodune was unpopular amongst the members of the brotherhood, with Khair being the only Sentinal to truly warm up to him. If he was unable to find Khair, though, he'd have to turn to another Sentinal to find him. One of the more interesting talents amongst the Sentinals was their ability to communicate with one another over vast distances. It was a secret skill they shared with no one outside the brotherhood. Lodune himself had never successfully pried the information out of Khair, and not for lack of trying. It simply added to their mystery.

As Lodune worked his way towards the working-class tenemant district of the city, he couldn't help but marvel at the rumors that he overheard. News of war in Helstaad was reaching everyone's ears, but the details were wildly different depending upon whoever was telling the story. In some snatches of converstation, Lodune heard that the orcs of Heglak Weap had already marched into the city and siezed it, using orcish magic to defeat the wizard's commune there. Others had it that Valemark had made the first strike, seeking to aid Helstaad against the mightier orc forces. Still others suggested that the wizards themselves had brought this upon Helstaad, due to reasons beyond the ken of the common folk. Lodune even heard a small group of weathered old codgers discussing that this was a sign of the end times. Something always was, it seemed.

The stately stone buildings of the city were giving way to the low, squat one- and two- story homes of the poorest working classes. These homes were built from cheap stone, chipped and cracked pieces deemed unsuitable for use elsewhere in the city. To the west rose the sheer rock wall that marked the westernmost edge of the city. As the Ahzikaam required more building materials, the stone would be quarried and the wall would move further west. The cheap tenemant homes would be destroyed, the land used for official building concerns, and the residents would be forced to reconstruct their shanty homes out of whatever new damaged stone was left.

As he had hoped, he discovered the old block of homes he was looking for, largely unchanged from his last visit to Ahzikaam. They were nondescript, lacking any kind of external features discernable to untrained eyes. For Lodune, though, the signs were obvious - the seemingly-random mud markings above the door denoting this as a Sentinal safe house, the small pile of stones to the left of the door signifying that there were currently Sentinals within, and the tell-tale scent of "tensa" bark being burned. Lodune chuckled quietly to himself at this last clue. The Sentinals took great pride in their ability to meet secretly, but their fondness for the musky, spicey scent of the "tensa" bark was a dead give away to anyone with any experience in dealing with them.

With a quick check of the little dead end alley that was home to this tenament, Lodune pushed passed the heavy canvas curtain which served as a door. Most of the tenemants had heavy curtains in use as doors, as wood and metal were scares and expensive in Ahzikaam. Lodune's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark interior of the home. An old woman sat at a single low table, reparing the seam of a garment. Behind here hung a small pot of stew over a fire in the chimney, adding an aromatic warmth to the cool interior. With slow, steady precision she looked up at him, and in a feeble voice croaked, "Ye'll be wanting them that's upstairs. Be quick about yer business, boy. Now get!"

With that the old crone fell into a brief spasm of wicked coughing. Lodune bowed slightly, then climbed the irregular stone staircase to the left of the room. The room above was brighter than that below, as half of the broad fronds used as roofing were missing. Whether this were an accident or by design, Lodune couldn't say. The room contained two small, low beds of straw, along with a couple of small chests, a table, and a number of stools scattered about. The single window was covered in the same heavy canvas as that used for the front door, and a censer in the corner burned with the smell of the "tensa" bark. A woman was sitting next to the censer, legs crossed and eyes closed, face serene in the midst of meditation.

"Misha!" Lodune boomed purposefully.

Misha opened an eye slowly to look at Lodune, her black hair falling in tight braids around her almond colored face. Her open eye revealed a dark iris flecked with red, and her broad, flat nose was offset by dark lips that suggested warm, exotic spices. She wore short, soft cotton breeches dyed copper with the "yoshi" root, and a loose, white cotton top. A neat pile of gear lay next to her, including a pack, a short hunting bow with copper-colored fletching, a scimitar, and assorted clothing for travel throughout the desert lands.

"Lodune. I see you still draw breath. You've such gall to risk coming here again. Please tell me you aren't expecting a warm welcome," Misha said, closing her eye.

Lodune grimaced at the cold greeting, but wasn't at all surprised. He and Misha had never succeeded in getting along with one another, regardless of how often either of them tried. Lodune suspected it was due to his relationship with Khair, a desert Sentinal and peer of Misha's. Lodune and Khair had been friends for a long time, having met when Lodune was wandering deliriously within the depths of the Tears after a particularly grueling job. Khair had saved his life, and the two had become fast friends and occassional lovers. Lodune assumed that this last fact was somehow at the heart of the feud between himself and Misha, but his attempts to discuss it with her had never worked. Over the years, Lodune had called on Khair for all manner of assistance, from navigating the desert to stealing back loot from bandits to thwarting feuds between rival merchants. Misha was quick to point out how each such adventure caused hardship for Khair, and for the Sentinals in general. For his part, Khair just laughed it all off, assuring Misha that he went along with Lodune with both eyes open. Khair was also fond of arguing that someone responsible had to keep an eye on Lodune. Still, Misha would hear none of it.

Then there was the last time the two of them had met, Lodune recalled. He'd come and convinced Khair to join him on a small jaunt north into the lands of the Khan, but the adventure had gone poorly, and both Lodune and Khair had been captured by a distant relation of the Khan himself. Khair was forced to call on Misha for aid, and Misha assured Lodune that she would not let him forget the incident.

Resolving himself to the unpleasant task at hand, he let out a little sigh and said, "Misha, dear sister, you know why I'm here. Tell me, is he within the city? My business with him is bound by a tight schedule."

Misha took a deep, full breath, then opened both eyes and stood. Smoke from the "tensa" bark swirled around her as she rose.

"Tell me, Lodune, why should the Sentinals agree to aid you? What greater good could a mercenary thief possibly be working for? No, this time you need to go it alone. The Sentinals of K'sai are at no one's beck and call, least of all yours. It's high time you learned this. Now go, and see to whatever selfish task has brought you here today."

Misha set about organizing her equipment, leaving Lodune to stand in silence. Lodune needed her help in contacting Khair - all Sentinals were able to communicate over vast distances with one another. Something about their spirt totems, as Khair had once tried to explain to him. Lodune didn't know where he'd find another Sentinal, or if indeed another Sentinal would even help him. Misha was his one chance at getting in touch with Khair. Somehow he'd have to convince her to help.

"You stand there plotting, mercenary. Be gone, I tell you, lest you earn the wrath of the Sentinals," Misha said, retreiving a sharpening stone from her pack and sitting down at the low table with her scimitar. The long, slow strokes of the stone on the steal spoke loudly to Lodune.

Sentinals were legendary in their ability to discern truth from lies, and it was this fact that Lodune clung to in hope. As much as revealing the whole truth went against his instincts, he decided that the time to do so was now.

Reaching under his tunic to his hidden pocket, he pulled out the ornate silken pouch containing the orcish Pledge Band. Misha cast a glance at this without missing a stroke of her sharpening.

"This," Lodune said, removing the armband from its pouch, "is the reason I've come. I seek both the owner of this trinket, as well as he who gave it. I am bound by both honor and duty to see that this is done. A war between Heglack Weap and Valemark is coming, and those to whom this armband belongs may have the power to stop it. I require the aid of a Sentinal who knows the western lands outside Helstaad, as well as any unseen routes across the northern steppes to Heglack Weap."

Lodune watched Misha closely, hoping for any hint of reaction to his words. After first seeing the Pledge Band, she had returned her focus to sharpening her scimitar. Her face and posture remained unreadable, but the fact that she hadn't sent him away again was mildly encouraging.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, Lodune continued, "Please, Misha. A very important and dear friend has asked that I do this for him. I, in turn, require the aid of a very dear and talented friend myself."

Lodune thought he'd seen the tiniest flicker of something across her face at his reference to Khair. Still, she appeared to be focused entirely on sharpening her blade. Desperate to gain her help, he did the one thing he was most loathe to do - swear an oath.

"Please, Misha, you know I speak truly. In the name of K'sai Oath-Sealer, I swear it is so!"

"Enough!" Misha jumped up, slamming the sharpening stone hard into the table top. "I do believe that you believe everything you said to be true. You needn't stain the name of our god with your tongue. I shall send word to Khair, but that shall be the end of it. See to it that your current plans do not end as did your last, or you can be sure that I will see to it that such a thing never happens again."

Anger clouded her features, slowly diminishing as she calmed herself. Lodune was perspiring nervously, fearful that she was going to skewer him right then and there. Although he himself was an excellent swordsman, he knew Misha to be a master of the scimitar. Against a scimitar, his rapier had little chance of success. Besides, for all the bluster and mistrust, he knew that Misha was important to Khair, and there just wasn't any way he'd be able to harm her because of that.

The temperature in the room seemed to cool to normal, and Lodune spoke quickly, "Thank you, Sentinal. I ask that you inform Khair that I will be waiting for him in Helstaad, at the Bloated Boar, three days hence. Let him know that I require a guide through the steppes, up to Heglack Weap."

"Very well, it shall be done," Misha said, her voice steady. Lodune stared at her for two heartbeats, then gave a short bow before turning to go back down the stairs.

Misha leaned heavily against the table after Lodune left. That infuriating son of a farmer had once again managed to get his way. By the Oath Keeper, what was it about him that Khair cared for so deeply? For in the end, she had agreed to help him not because he appeared to be telling the truth, or even because he swore an oath on the name of her god. No, she'd agreed because she knew that Khair would want to help him, and she couldn't bring herself to disappoint or hurt Khair. Misha loved him too much to do that.

Collecting herself, she once again sat cross-legged on the floor, next to the censer. The spicy scent of the "tensa" bark still wafted up from the censer, and soon she had cleared her mind with the practiced ease of a Sentinal of K'sai.

With her mind open, she sought communion with her spirit totem. Soon her senses took in the comfortable, musky atmosphere of a dark burrow, mild in temperature despite the heat of mid-day. In the center of the tiny space was curled her totem, the jerboa. Soon she had communicated her message to the small creature, which was really a symbol of all jerboas. At nightfall, when the jerboas left their burrows, one of them would be able to get the message to Khair. It would either speak to him directly, or contact his spirit totem to do so. It was in this way that the Sentinals of K'sai maintained vigil over the people and lands of the world.

Her task completed, Misha slumped against the wall, drained. If Lodune were correct about a coming war, she hoped that he and Khair would be able to stop it. If only the task hadn't been given to Lodune.

Sighing heavily, and somewhat influenced by her communion with her spirit totem, Misha crawled onto one of the low beds and fell asleep.

CHAPTER IX

[STUFF HERE ABOUT WANDERING ABOUT THE CITY AND MAYBE TAKING IN A BATH]

Refreshed and enlivened by the bath, Lodune wandered into the comfortable warmth of early evening in Ahzikaam. Enlivened at the day's successes, he set off towards the city's pleasures district. Ahzikaam was home to a great pleasures district, being as multi-cultural as it was. Taverns and gambling houses and black lotus dens crowded together in the southern most end of the city, interspersed with brothels serving a myriad of tastes. Nothing as exotic as the specailty houses found in the Oceanic Council, but today wasn't about exotic. It was about comfort, and Lodune knew just the place to find comfort.

[OKAY - STUFF HERE ABOUT VISITING A GAMBLING DEN AND/OR BROTHEL]

It was well past midnight when Lodune stumbled out of the Oasis, his tunic and belt askew. The evening's entertainments had been more vigorous than he'd anticipated, as the Oasis' proprietor tended to employ more subdued consorts. Still, Hrandon had been an unexpected find, and an excellent partner. Lodune would be sure to ask for him in the future.

Taking in the cool air of the late evening, Lodune strode boldly out into the darkened city streets. He was faced with the dilemma of having to choose between returning to the "Crimson Pike" for the evening (best way to not miss the ship in the morning), or perhaps find lodging in an inn, if possible given the late hour. He wasn't sure if Sahana would be sleeping aboard the ship tonight or not, but he decided to avoid the potential for her snoring for an evening. His decision made, he headed towards the direction of the Palace. There were a number of inns near there that catered to late-night travelers, so he was sure to get at least a light meal, if not a room.

The noises of the city became more sparse as he traveled away from the pleasures district. The late hour was home to only the most baudy and reckless sorts, and only the brave or the stupid were to be seen wandering the dark streets. Lodune wasn't sure which camp he fell in with, but he certainly did enjoy Ahzikaam at night.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance, and Lodune allowed himself to get lost in thought. He'd be seeing Khair soon, and he hoped that the Sentinal would give him a warmer welcome than Misha had. Lodune was pretty sure that he and Khair were good, but after hearing the venom in Misha's voice as she described the last adventure, Lodune just didn't feel confident. It was true that they'd run into some unforseen difficulties on that last trip, and for a moment it had seemed as if the Sentinals were going to be placed in a difficult political situation because of it. But it had all worked out in the end, and he and Khair had a good laugh over it all afterward. Perhaps he was asking too much of his friend, or worse, taking advantage of their friendship. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind as he turned a corner, the Palace of the Guilds visible in the background. The Eternal Lights burned brightly atop each of the three towers surrounding the palace, beckoning travels toward it.

It was then that Lodune heard the soft pad of clothed feet upon the stone street behind him. With practiced skill, Lodune feigned tripping over a rise in the street, grabbing the hilt of his rapier as he tumbled to a seemingly prone and helpless position. His pursuer took the bait and fell upon him from the shadows, twin daggers flashing in the low light of the night.

Lodune made a quick assessment of his situation. His attacker was more nimble than strong, slight of build and wearing expensive black, silken garments most likely purchased within Ahzikaam. The assailant's head and face were covered by a cloth, showing only pale eyes shot with crimson.

The footpad raced at Lodune, twin daggers poised to strike deep into his back as Lodune feigned having lost his footing. As the assassin lept at him, Lodune spun around, drawing his rapier in the same movement. The assailant leapt backwards at the precise moment the blade would have opened his belly, allowing Lodune the opportunity to stand.

"I've no quarrel with you yet, friend," Lodune said, "but trust that my good nature will give way to bitter disappointment should you keep at your current task."

The assassin eyed him coldly, sizing him up. Lodune was perhaps a few fingers shorter than his assailant, but considerably more massive. The assassin remained silent, instead launching into a cartwheel that brought him up behind Lodune's left side. Lodune preformed his own tumbling maneuver to remove himself from the range of the daggers, somersaulting forward and spinning around. Lodune smiled, as it was obvious someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hire a talented professional to do him in. He had always liked to feel significant.

"Alright, then," Lodune said with an evil grin, "You're obviously no mere thief. You've a purpose, don't you?"

He launched at his attacker, his rapier aimed for his attacker's throat. The assassin parried the thrust with his left hand dagger, reaching in to tag Lodune with his right hand dagger. Lodune had anticipated this and had simple spun to the right, following the momentum of his deflected thrust. As he spun, he quickly changed the orientation of his rapier, so that the hilt was pointed down in his hand rather than up. The blade slashed a shallow cut across the dark fabric of his attacker's silk jerkin, drawing a thin line of blood from the flesh beneath. Lodune shoved the assassin back with a quick blow from his forearm, then jumped backwards in order to regain his balance and better his sword stance.

His attacker appeared unphased by both the cut and the shove, focusing all attention on Lodune. With alarming swiftness, the assassin drove into Lodune with a flurry of daggers. Lodune tried to hold his ground, but was forced to move backwards to avoid the assault. It was everything he could do to keep his rapier deflecting the blows. He was trying to gain a stronger position, something that would allow him to draw one of his own daggers to help parry blows, when he became aware of a quiet chanting.

Aarn's ass! Lodune shouted to himself. Chanting could only mean one thing - magic. There was a wizard nearby, and that was very bad news. A dark mist was beginning to form on the ground beneath him, wispy gray tendrils of the stuff slowly climbing his legs. Lodune noticed that his legs seemed to be growing heavier as the mist grew thicker about his feet. The assassin was still coming at him with no sign of slowing, crimson-streaked eyes fixed on him with unnatural determination.

Desperate, Lodune lifted his right leg, much slower than he would have liked, but still quick enough to kick his assailant backwards a foot. Then he allowed himself to fall backwards, into the thickening mist. Letting his momentum bring his legs up over him, he rolled backward, the ashen mist stinging his eyes and choking his throat. It smelled of charnel houses and disease, and for just an instant Lodune was awash in nightmare visions of death and agony.

Struggling to remain focused, Lodune completed his backward roll, coming up on his feet once more. The dark patch of mist moved towards him somewhat slower than his dagger-wielding assassin, but for a moment he was no longer hindered by the magic. Crouched, he whipped a dagger from his left boot and quickly spun around. A quick glance was all he needed as he flung his dagger up into a particularly dark shadow. The chanting immediately stopped, replaced with a strangled gurgling sound. His rapier he drove up and behind himself, where it planted firmly into the chest of his assassin. Giving the blade a good shove, Lodune turned and stood. The assassin's unwholesome eyes were wide with surprise, and a high-pitched sound escaped from the assassin's concealed lips as Lodune pushed him off his blade and on to the street. The assassin's wound began to bubble and spit black ichor, and what skin Lodune could see seemed to grow ashen and pale in the dim light of midnight.

Lodune nudged his fallen would be assassin with the tip of his boot and was surprised to find that the body had already become stiff with rigor. He knelt down and removed the assassin's head covering, revealing a mouth twisted in rage, lined with thin lips and full of black, craggy teeth. The head was bald and pale, and the veins shown through even in the dim light of midnight. Worst of all were the eyes, which appeared to be lidless, with the crimson streaks gone black. Lodune hastily covered the body's face with the cloth wrapping and turned his attention towards the wizard.

Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out his light stone. Activating it, he examined the shadows which had held the wizard. In short order he found the body, slumped over in an uncomfortable heap on the street. Lodune's dagger had pierced the wizard's throat, just above the collar bone. A lucky shot, he thought to himself. He removed his dagger and wiped it on the black robes of the wizard, who wore a short cropped tonsure and appeared to be rather young, by wizard standards. The control of magic and the casting of spells was not an easy task, and it took several years of study for even the most basic control. Most wizards were well into the middle years of their lives before they were able to make sophisticated use of magic. The wizard Lodune had killed looked to be young indeed for a wizard, possibly having seen only twenty festivals. The young mage's eyes were dark, with the same dark streaks as the assassin. To Lodune's relief, the wizard's eyes still had their lids. A quick search of the body revealed nothing of interest, so he pulled both bodies to the side of the street for the city watch to deal with once the sun rose.

The silence of the late hour once again settled about him, and a pair of boisterous voices were heading his way. He had received a number of minor cuts, and his tunic was stained with blood. Lodune decided to avoid interacting with anyone in his current state, so he took the to shadows, making his way slowly and quietly back to the "Crimson Pike". The comfortable bed of an inn would have to wait.

With his bath a distant, sweet memory, Lodune set off.

CHAPTER X

Lodune awoke the next morning in his berth aboard the "Crimson Pike". He'd slept longer than he thought, as he could hear captain Levka shouting orders above decks in preperation for launch. The hold was devoid of crew, so Lodune took the opportunity to remove the fight stained tunic of the previous evening and change into his one other garment.

He had decided to conceal the episode from the captain and crew, lest they become concerned for their own safety. He felt as if he were worried enough for the whole of the ship, anyway. He had not been jumped by mere cutpurses - these had been talented, exotic, and most likely expensive, hired killers, and that could mean only one thing. Lodune was a marked man. But why?

He'd thought about it on his way to the ship the night before, and he found his thoughts once again consumed with why he had been attacked. Adjusting his new tunic, he retrieved the Pledge Band from his battle scarred clothing, pausing to turn it over in his hands. The design was bold, but possessed a sophistication and elegance that was only found in orcish craftsmanship. It was likely the source of his troubles, but how? Who knew that he had it? He pondered this as he donned his belt and climbed above deck.

As expected, the crew was busy getting the cog underway. Captain Levka was in the aftcastle, orchestrating the launch, and Sahana was once more at the tiller. The morning sky was bright and clear, and a warm breeze was blowing in from the Tears. Taking an out of the way position at the forecastle, he let his mind drift over the situation. It was possible that Ingen had been confronted by his employer, Ambassador Osporro Karkere. If the Ambassador was in the middle of the coming war, then he might very well want to see Lodune and the evidence he carried taken care of. There was the darker possibility that Misha was somehow involved, but this he discounted immediately. There may be bad blood between the two, but if she wanted him dead she'd see to it herself. Besides, there had been something wrong with the two attackers he'd fought, something that smacked of malevolence beyond the scope of a mere feud. He was reminded of the flash he'd had when he fell into the wizardly tendrils that had tried to engulf him, and he shuddered. No, there was something more at work here, something as yet unseen. He'd have to exercise more extreme caution upon reaching Helstaad. Having Khair around would help, too. Sentinals were great protection.

[SOME FILLER HERE ABOUT THE VOYAGE OUT OF AHZIKAAM. PERHAPS THEY FIND THE BLOODY TUNIC OR NOTICE LODUNE'S WOUNDS. SHRUG]

CHAPTER XI

It was just before midday on the third day out from Ahzikaam that they first spotted the town of Helstaad. The massive lake was giving way to ever increasing shorline to the north, and the town was easily visible at the middle of the horizon. The winds were behaving favorably, and the "Crimson Pike" would likely hit port just past midday.

Lodune was standing at the tiller, talking with Sahana. The two had become friendly with one another after their initial stand off, the orc woman warming to Lodune after he had successfully told a couple of rude jokes in orcish over dinner. For his part, Lodune had taken an instant liking to the ship's helmsmate. Orcs shied away from the open water, and were rare amongst the crews of the world. An orc woman becoming a mate upon a ship was just beyond the pale. As far as Lodune was concerned, Sahana was the most intresting woman alive.

Captain Levka stood at the head of the aftcastle, eye on the horizon. Turning her head, she shouted back to Lodune and Sahana.

"Mister Lodune, a word if you please," she said, turning back towards the approaching shoreline.

Lodune left the orc, curious as to what the captain wanted to speak about. Unlike the helmsmate, the captain had yet to warm up to Lodune. Indeed, he didn't think she would, given the protocols of her station. True to her word, she hadn't wanted to hear anything more from him during his time abaord the "Crimson Pike", even though the crew had begun joking with him. With some trepidition, he came up next to the captain.

"Yes, Captain?" he said, looking her over. Her features were difficult to read, as she seemed to be locked in a continual state of annoyance. Still, the stern look only accentuated her features, tall and serious in her red doublet with green sleaves.

"Mister Lodune," she said, "When I allowed you aboard, I told you I wished to hear nothing about you or your business. However, recent news has changed my mind."

Lodune eyed the captain keenly, wondering what she was getting at. In the two and a half days since leaving Ahzikaam, the captain had made no motions or signs of wanting to speak to him. Why now?

"If it pleases the captain," Lodune said with a modest bow.

"You may leave off with the ingratiating formality," the captain said. She produced a long pipe from her belt and proceeded to fill and light it as she spoke to Lodune.

"Before we had left Lutholm, you had made mention of rumors coming out of Helstaad. You had also produced an orcish bauble that upset my first mate. During our stay in Ahzikaam, I heard news out of Helstaad. Do you know what I heard?" The captain made a series of casual puffs on her pipe, still staring at the horizon. Although she spoke to Lodune, she kept her eyes firmly planted ahead.

Lodune wasn't sure where this was going, or how best to proceed. It had been a rash move, flashing the Pledge Band back in Lutholm, but it had gotten him aboard the ship most likely to get him to Helstaad in quick time without fear of being pressed into service as part of the crew. It had also allowed him the opportunity to get word to Khair. Still, it had been a risky move, and now he was forced to pay the price of that action.

Fearing he had paused too long in reply, he finally said, "No, captain, though I can guess that it was significant."

Levka grunted, the closest thing to a chuckle he'd heard her utter. "Significant? Perhaps. War appears to be coming to Helstaad. The town is fearful of an invasion by Valemark, and has sent word to the city of Heglak Weap asking for aid. My informant was unaware of the orc's response to the request, but was able to verify that Valemark was preparing an army to send to Helstaad. Now tell me, why would one such as yourself be in need of quick passage out of Valemark and to Helstaad, bearing a sacred orcish trinket, at exactly the same time as Heglak Weap and Valemark stand poised to do battle at Helstaad?"

So it's happening, Lodune thought, there's to be a war in Helstaad. But what did it have to do with the Pledge Band?

"'Tis a fine coincidence, to be sure," Lodune began, but he was immediately cut off by the captain, who slowly turned to look at him for the first time during the conversation.

"Comedy has no place in this conversation, sir," she said gravely, punctuating the comment with a puff from her pipe. "Speak plainly, and be quick with it."

"Apologies, Captain Levka," Lodune said, bowing his head slightly, "Obfuscating my purpose is as a second nature to me. As you know, I'm tasked with returning the sacred orcish object to its rightful owner. I'm told that it may be somehow related to the growing hostilities between Heglak Weap and Valemark, but I cannot be sure until I reach Heglak Weap. I only hope that I can discover the truth before open warfare begins in Helstaad."

The captain turned back to watch the approaching shore, obviously lost in thought. Lodune began to worry about what she might be thinking. If the Pledge Band were in fact at the heart of the war, then an enterprising soul could use it to gain political leverage in any number of ways. If not for Ingen's wishes, Lodune himself might have considered such a course of action.

Hoping to distract the captain from whatever path of thought she had gone wandering down, Lodune was about to speak when a cry went up from the watch on the forecastle.

"Captain! There's trouble a-brew!" shouted the watch.

Looking ahead, Lodune saw what the commotion was about. A dark fog was growing all around the ship, appearing to stretch out for several yards in all directions around the ship. Lodune shuddered at the memory of the foul fog that the wizard had conjured around him during the fight in Ahzikaam. This fog was much more aggressive, quickly blocking the view of the shoreline, and slowly pouring over the railings of the ship. It bore a pungent smell of sulphur and fishy rot.

"Steady at the helm!" Levka shouted back to Sahana. She was giving the order to lower the sail until the fog lifted but stopped, listening to a growing scratching sound.

"By the..." Levka began, cutting herself off as she peered over the side of the aftcastle. The rest of the crew were scrambling to the railings as well, shouting and screaming.

Choking on the foul vapors rising from the lake, Lodune peered over the aftcastle, next to the captain. Looking over the side, he understood why the crew was crying out. Slowly climbing the side of the ship were the mishapen bodies of the 'noughouan', the primitive deep water dwelling amphibious bipeds that inhabited both the great lake and the inner sea. The fresh water variety were dark gray, with mottled green patches across their bodies. Their small, narrow heads bore the black, beady eyes of a shark, and their mouths were large and grotesque, with many rows of wicked, sharp teeth. Irregular boney protrusion dotted their skulls, and their webbed hands ended in short, sharp black claws known to contain a poison that could paralyze a limb if it were scratched. Several of the creatures were steadily climbing the sides of the "Crimson Pike", using sharpened shell shards as climbing tools. Typically docile unless provoked, they made difficult adversaries when encountered in large numbers.

Lodune ran to the opposite railing, taking a quick tally of the creatures. The ship appeared to be outnumbered by at least two to one. Decent odds, given the awkward way in which the noughouan moved out of water. Anyone who fell into the water, though, was surely doomed. Lodune briefly considered the possibility that they might be swarming under the hull of the ship in order to somehow sink her, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Time enough to worry about that should it actually happen.

"Lash the tiller!" the captain shouted to Sahana, "And the rest of you arm yourselves! Let these beasts know that they deal with the crew of the 'Crimson Pike'!"

Tapping out her pipe and stashing it under her belt, the captain drew her short sword and moved down to the waist of the ship, organizing her crew to fend off the intruders. Lodune realized he was without his rapier and cursed. The daggers in his belt and boot would have to do. Following after the captain, he lept down to the deck with a dagger at the ready.

The first wave of the intruders was coming over the deck railing, alien mouths emitting eerie, high-pitched sounds. The crew was ready for them, knives and swords reflecting the afternoon sun. Several of the noughouan fell as soon as they reached above the railing, fingers and hands severed by the defenders. The keening wail of the fish men gave the battle an other worldly feeling that left some of the crew disoriented and nauseous. At least one of the crew had already been cut by the wicked sharp black claws of an attacker, her arm hanging helplessly at her side.

"Beware their claws! They contain poison!" Lodune shouted above the din as he moved in to position. A flurry of the wet beasts was making its way over the railing, and soon the battle was being fought amidships.

The sickly fumes of the unnatural fog grew stronger, pitching the battle against the crew. Lodune wove his way across the deck, cutting and stabbing the noughouan wherever he could. Slick, thin red blood soon covered the deck as the slow moving beasts fell under the defenses of the crew. Several memebers of the crew had also fallen, though whether they yet lived or had merely been paralyzed was hard to determine. A particularly toothy intruder knelt over the body of a fallen crew member, grotesque mouth twitching in anticipation. Without hesitating, Lodune slung his dagger at the foul beast, felling it in a moist slump next to the fallen mate.

Lodune crossed to the fallen creature and retrieved his blade, quickly checking the pulse of the prone crew mate. Her eyes were wild with fright, so Lodune quickly whispered, "Not to worry, lass. It'll wear off. Don't go anywhere." Thankful that she couldn't slap him, Lodune dove back into the fray.

The captain's elegant green sleeved douplet was in tatters, and she was strainging to keep her sword arm up. Sahana bound to her side, taking up the captain's sword and fighting off an onslaught of three of the fish men. Sahana let out a fearsome orcish war cry as she hacked into one of the attackers. So ferocious was the roar that the other two beasts leapt over the railing and back into the lake. Lodune's own opponent turned at the awesome noise, along with almost every other creature about the ship. The noughouan's expressionless black eyes fixed on the orc, its face blank and grotesqe. Lodune drew his dagger deep across the creature's neck, kicking the body away as it fell, gurgling, to the deck.

For all the noughouan bodies littering the deck of the "Pike", the battle was still going against the ship. The crew was slowly losing, as nicks and cuts from the poisoned claws of the fish men took their toll. The onslaught showed no sign of lessening, and the sickly fog and blood slicked deck were further hindering the defenders.

"Fall back! Back to the [PART OF SHIP UNDER THE AFTCASTLE]!" shouted the captain, although she could barely be heard above the clash of battle and the din of the noughouan's weird cries. Sahana, still protecting her, echoed the order in her booming orc voice. "Keila! Taex! Start dragging the wounded back! These foul sea bastards won't be dining on the likes of us!"

Lodune sprang to the front of the ship, dodging the blows of the noughouan while looking for fallen crew. The thickening fog was no obstacle to the noughouan but was increasingly difficult for Lodune to see through. Still, the blodding, wet sounds of the fish men gave their positions away easily enough, and Lodune was able to make a complete sweep, eventually stumbling upon the bodies of two crewmates.

"Sahana! I've found Pree and Midge!" Lodune shouted to the aft of the ship. With a roar that shook his bones, Sahana came bounding through the fog toward him, her thick orc arms sweeping aside noughouan as if they were rag dolls.

"Pree's hurt. Looks like one of those bastards had a little taste," Lodune said, showing the foul, obvious mark of a bite on the crewmate's thigh. "You should carry her. I'll get Midge."

The orc hastily scooped up her fallen comrade and dashed back into the fog toward the rear of the ship. Lodune lifted the much smaller Midge and followed Sahana through the swirling mist. Twice he was forced to wield Midge's paralyzed feet as weapons to beat away the rubbery horde. At the rear of the ship, he carefully set her down.

"Your feet were wonderful," he joked, trying to put the terrified young sailor at ease. A quiet chuckle struggled its way out of her throat.

Taking stock of the crew, Lodune saw that fewer than half were still well enough to fight. Even Sahana was baddly cut from head to foot, although she showed no signs of paralysis.

"Why Sahana," Lodune said, "I didn't know orcs were immune to poison. Or are you just too stubborn to be paralyzed?"

The orc grunted, "Silence, little man. The poison is coursing through my viens like molten steel, but it's true that I'm feeling no other effects. I doubt these abominations have ever seen an orc before. I intend to see that they never forget the experience."

The high pitched wailing of the noughouan was growing louder and, to Lodune's ears, angrier, as the intruders closed in on the huddled crew. A couple of the crew were hurrying the wounded below decks, but Lodune could easily see the outcome of the battle. Picking up a sword from one of the fallen crew, he set his feet and faced the encroaching horde of mottled fish men.

"Well, my dear orcess, let us school these things in the ways of the orcs," Lodune said as he sprang into the mob. With a roar Sahana joined him, as did the remaining able bodied sailors. One of the sailors fell immediately, cut deep along her belly, and soon the remaining defenders were encircled, the stink of fishy deeps coupled with the acrid, sulphurous smell of the unnatural fog.

Soon Lodune himself received a deep slash across his left forearm, which fell limp at his side. A quick glance at the others showed that they fared little better, and even the great orc was straining and wheezing, bleeding profusely from a myriad number of cuts and gashes.

"Let us show you the road to Hell!" screamed Lodune as he frantically cut down two more noughouan, only to see them replaced by two more. Fatigue and despair had joined the battle, and Lodune knew he would soon fall to the rubbery beasts of the deep.

He was preparing his final assault when a peculiar, booming roar sounded across the ship.

"Curse the Makers!" Lodune spat, "What is it now?"

The noughouan had stopped in their tracks upon hearing the sound, their own weird high pitched keening lowering to a series of anxious clicks and whistles. Everyone aboard the ship who was able was looking around frantically, trying to find the source of the new sound. The bellow came again, rattling the timbers of the ship itself. The noughouan panicked, scrambling across the deck in an attempt to jump back into the lake. Lodune was considering doing the same thing so as to avoid this new threat, but was stopped cold by the appearance of an enormous, reptilian head whipping in through the fog.

The head was easily the size of a wagon, its wide maw lined with teeth the size and shape of large daggers. The scales flashed blueish green in the fog filtered light of the afternoon sun, and the plate sized eyes were yellow with pupils like a cat's. Finger thick tendrils sprouted around the mouth and nose like whiskers, and steam trailed from the nostrils. In a quick motion, the beast snapped up two noughouan, swallowing them greedily.

"Blessed [AQUATIC DIETY]!" shouted Sahana, "A dragon turtle!"

Lodune wasn't ready to offer blessings to the gods just yet. Dragon turtles were indiscriminate eaters, and it was likely that the creature would just as soon feast upon the crew as it would the noughouan. Still, being eaten in a single gulp was preferable to being paralyzed and slowly dined upon.

The noughouan were frantically throwing themselves overboard, back into the water. They were much quicker and agile in their natural element, and less likely to be consumed. The massive head of the dragon, meanwhile, continued to dart in and out of the fog, first from one side of the ship, then another. Pieces of noughouan fell from its massive jaws as it scooped up the tasty morsels. Had he not been so relieved to receive a break in the fighting, Lodune may well have been sick.

In a matter of moments the ship was cleared of living noughouan. The deck was thick with blood and gore, and the sun shone ever brighter through the thinning fog. The "Crimson Pike" was still on course for Helstaad, which was now easily seen on the shore. Off the portside of the ship, the giant shell of the dragon could be seen just under the waves, the long snake like neck likely twisting in several directions, picking off the fleeing fish men.

Several silent heartbeats passed before Sahana took command. Captain Levka had passed out from her wounds and the poison that came with them, so Sahana wsa now in charge.

"Alright, you sorry lot. We're not done here yet. You lot see to the dressing of wounds. You and you, begin cleaning off this deck. The rest of you, assess any damage. I'll be at the tiller.

"And you," she said, lowering her voice as she spoke to Lodune, "You have done very well this day. I may yet learn to trust you."

Lodune laughed, then clutched his paralyzed arm. He was baddly bruised, cut, and exhausted. After helping get the wounded situated below decks, he saw to the mending of his own wounds and then retired to his berth. They'd wake him once they actually hit port.

He fell asleep, dreaming of a hot bath.

CHAPTER XII

[UGH - CRIMSON PIKE WOULD HAVE A HARD TIME DOCKING, HAVING SET OUT FROM VALEMARK - EXPLORE THIS]

Lodune awoke a short time later as the "Crimson Pike" pulled into port in Helstaad. The sound of the able bodied crewmates going about their duties had woken him, and he stiffly removed himself from his berth. His tunic was ripped and cut and bloodstained, so he removed the sleaves. His bare arms showed the scars of previous fights, as well as the days old wounds he had sustained in Ahzikaam. His left arm was still numb from the paralyzing poison of the noughouan, making the task of altering his garment that much more difficult.

Slowly gathering together his pack and sword, he climbed to the deck to watch the crew finish their docking procedures. A small group of longshoremen were at the ready on the pier, catching the thick mooring ropes and tying them to the large mooring posts on the dock. The sky was wide and pale blue, with thin whisps of clouds streaking across it.

Helstaad itself was a good sized town, consisting of a number of low buildings that straddled both sides of [THE RIVER]. The eastern portion of the town was dominated by the walled compound of the Nidus Collegium, the center of wizardly knowledge and home to several score wizards. Situated around the compound were the low buildings housing the artisans and craftsmen who worked the raw materials that came in via the port and overland trade routes. The western side of the river was home to the sizeable temple of [DIETY OF COMMERCE], a low octagon with a short tower rising out of the center. The entrance of the temple opened into the large public square that functioned as a market on non-feast days. Along side this were guild offices and a number of inns and apothecaries. Surrounding both the east and west sides of the town was a low wall, as tall as two men, with regular low towers. The wall was low and unimposing, but it was never meant to be the primary defense of the town. Instead, the wizards of the Nidus Collegium saw to the real protection of the town, performing daily rituals that ensured the safety of the town and all those who dwelt within. Although political and ideological conflicts between the clergy, the guilds, and the wizards were common, the wizards never failed to keep the city and its port safe from intruders.

[DESCRIPTIVE FILLER HERE & LODUNE SAYS GOODBYE TO THE CAPTAIN]

[SAHANA IS SENT TO FIND A HEALER FOR THE INJURED CREW]

Sahana and Lodune left the ship, carrying themselves as well as they could. The orc was grimacing slightly as she walked, although Lodune doubted very much that anyone else would notice. Her cuts and gashes had been bandaged as well as possible aboard the "Crimson Pike", but the noughouan toxin still burned within her. Lodune was continually impressed with the "Pike's" first mate.

The ship was moored on the eastern side of the river, and Lodune and Sahana worked their way to one of the two bridges that joined the two sides of the town. The bridge closest to the pier was wide enough to allow two carts to pass side by side, and both bridges were designed to open in the middle, both halves swinging to the side of the river. This allowed the occassional large barge to pass, and was one of the more impressive features of the town. The view from the bridge was impressive indeed, allowing one to see the vast lake to the south, and the winding river north to the highlands and the impressive mountains to the north. Lodune and the orc took a moment to take it all in, then continued on their way to the western side of the town. They were hopeful that they would find a healer at the temple, or at least a tincture to counteract the paralyzing effects of the noughouan poison.

The people of Helstaad were generally of eastern extraction, boasting pale eyes, dark hair, and hawkish features. Although not the same center of multicultural urbanity as Alzikaam or Lutholm, the city hosted several merchants and travelers from the western and eastern lands. Lodune and Sahana also saw a number of orcs, most of whom bore the markings of visiting craftsmen and merchants. Sahana seemed to stiffen slightly whenever they saw another orc, and Lodune wisely thought better of quizzing her on this, given her current difficulties with fighting the toxin.

They reached the temple of [COMMERCE DIETY] quickly, even given the path through the market square in front of the temple. The normally aggressive hawkers and shills thought better of attracting the attention of an obviously wounded orc, adding another reason for Lodune to enjoy the company of his orcish companion.

The temple was a large stone structure, with eight low, wide sides depicting scenes from the lore of the diety in bas relief. A stout, eight sided tower rose from the center of the building, peaked in a conical roof, with a single small window on each face of the tower, just under the roof. Elegant spokes protruded from beneath each of the windows, about as long as a man was tall. Lodune and Sahana entered through the arched double doors that faced the market, plunging themselves into relative darkness. The interior of the temple opened into a hallway that appeared to skirt the inner perimeter, with doorways to the innermost chambers situated every ten paces or so. The rites of [COMMERCE DIETY] involved individual, private communion with the diety's priests, so there were many chambers for prayer and consultation with a priest. Each door had a small, vertical slot in the center. If the slot showed red, then the chamber was currently in use. If the slot were empty, then the supplicant was expected to make a donation of coin into the slot, which would trigger the door to open. It was an ingenious system, worthy of the native and imported craftsmen of Helstaad.

Coming to the first free door, Sahana inserted a copper coin, the standard fee for anyone involved in commerce. There was a faint click, and the weary orc pushed open the door. The room beyond was quite small, with two small stools, a small, low square table, and a narrow door on the opposite wall. Lodune and Sahana entered the room, closing the door behind them. Within three heartbeats the door opposite clicked open, revealing a well fed fellow in his middle years, dressed in the blue and gold robes of his order. His eyes were quick and dark, and his hair long and thin. In his right hand he carried a polished round stone that looked like green marble. A truth stone, thought Lodune in disgust. Relatively simple tools, they revealed if words spoken were thought to be true by the speaker, although the interpretation of the results could lead to long, tiresome debates.

Eyeing the two suspiciously, the priest asked, "Which of you has come seeking guidance? Place your hand upon the stone, that we might know the truth."

The priest held out the hateful orb in his right hand, and Sahana placed her right hand upon it. A greenish glow pierced the candle lit darkness of the room as Sahana replied, "'Twas I who paid your fee, brother priest. I am first mate upon a vessel recently arrived in your port. Just outside your waters, out on the lake, we were set upon by unusually aggressive noughouan. Most of my crew is sick with the fish men's poison, and I myself feel it burning in my veins."

Lodune noticed the priest's bushy brow twitch at the mention of the attack. Taking advantage of the Truth Stone, he asked, "You've heard of other such attacks, priest?"

The priest's attention shifted to Lodune as he replied, "We have heard of unusual activity within the lake."

[PRIEST SPEAKS OF WEIRD GOINGS ON AND UNUSUAL BEHAVIOR OF THE WIZARDS]

[PRIEST SUGGESTS AN APOTHACARY FOR THE POISON REMEDY]

[SAHANA AND LODUNE PART WAYS AFTER ACQUIRING ANTIDOTE]

CHAPTER XIII

The mild spring afternoon had was giving way to a chilly spring evening as Lodune left the "Crimson Pike". He had a final order of business to attend to before he could head to the Bloated Boar, where he hoped Khair was waiting for him. Anxious to be sitting and drinking, he hurried back toward the public market, hoping to find stalls still open.

Vendors were beginning to pack their wares for the day, rushing against the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon. The sounds of lifestock being crated and corralled filled the air, as did the smell of a myriad of smokes from the various food vendors who were beginning to extinguish their fires. Hurrying between the stalls, Lodune finally found a clothier. Slowing himself so as not to appear desperate, he sauntered up to the stall casually.

The proprietor was an older man, thin and tall with a ring of white hair around his pate. He was slowly and methodically folding garments and stashing them in crates, which a young assistant loaded into a small cart attached to a donkey. The aged tailor looked up at Lodune as he approached, a smile crossing his face. The smile was unfortuneate, as it caused his hooked, hawkish nose to appear even more pronounced upon the elderly man's face.

"Ah-ha!" said the tailor, "A final customer, so late on such a fine day. Greetings, sir! How may Lukan the Tailor be of service to thee?"

Lodune eyed the remaining tunics and other clothing with practiced mild interest. He was running quite short of coins, and would likely be unable to afford much of anything old Lukan was offering. Noticing the difficulty the young lad was having loading some of the chests into the cart, Lodune hatched a plan.

"Good day, master tailor," Lodune said, idly running a hand over a folded frock. "I'm in need of a tunic or two to supplement my traveling attire. Have you anything of the sort?"

The old tailor eyed Lodune skeptically. Lodune still wore the ripped, bloodied, and sleaveless tunic from earlier that day, failing to look at all like someone worth doing business with.

"As you can see," he said, indicating his clothing, "I'm in need of something more...formal. My caravan is recently arrived from the Three Cities. It was difficult going, what with the bandits and worse waiting alongside the trade roads. Now that I'm arrived, I've need of proper attire."

Softening to the tale, the tailor rubbed his nimble fingered hands together in anticipation of a sale. "Well let's see, then," he said, sizing up Lodune with a trained eye, "You're a stout lad, but I'm sure I've a few offerings to your liking."

Lukan busilly began rummaging through the stacks of folded clothing which remained unpacked. Muttering quietly to himself as he rifled about, he finally came up with two tunics that looked about the right size to fit over Lodune's frame. The first, a simple cotton garment, was undyed and trimmed with brown brocade. The second was finer, being made of linen dyed a rich blue, with a faux golden brocade trimming the neck and sleeves. Lodune had produced his coin purse and was jingling it seemingly absentmindedly.

"These are fine samples, to be sure, master tailor," he said, purposefully replacing his coin purse on his belt and making a show of testing the stitching. "However, I've found myself invited to a social function requiring something just a bit finer than these exceptional garments. Surely you have clothing for such an event available? I would hate to make a poor impression amongst the guildmasters at this evening's reception."

The old tailor's eyes widened at the mention of the guildmasters. To have his clothing made known to the guildmasters themselves was a great boon. Lodune had him now.

"Aye, good sir, I've more than these trifles, and better, too," said Lukan greedily.

The tailor turned and squawked an order at his young assistant, "Hurn! Dammit, boy, get in here!" The child came bustling in from the cart, where he'd been struggling to lift a chest. The tailor gruffly told him which chests he wanted unloaded, then turned and smiled greedily at Lodune as the two waited for the child to bring in the first of the chests.

The tailor quickly dug through the chest, producing a fine tunic of linen dyed the color of wine, with a dark green silken brocade trimming the sleaves, neck, and skirt. Lodune eyed it indifferently, waiting to see the contents of the second chest. Old Lukan watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction.

The second chest produced two more examples of Lukan's finest work. The first was a golden silk garment, short of sleeve and trimmed in brown. The second was a long sleeved tunic in purple, trimmed in rich green, with intricate beadwork stitched along the sleeves and chest in a darker, contrasting purple. It was a truly impressive piece of clothing. Lukan, sure that this would be the sale, stared in anticipation at Lodune.

"The boy's mother, my daughter, does the beadwork," the tailor said proudly, "The beads themselves are made of coral and shell from Linth."

Lodune favored the garment with a look of mild appreciation, noting that the contents of both crates had been nearly emptied in digging out these samples. The afternoon has passed on to evening, and the sound of vendors packing up for the day was diminishing as the market cleared.

"Well, I've heard that Guildmaster Jarl favors the colors silver and red. I'm sure you can appreciate my need to impress the Guildmaster," Lodune said, tapping the side of his nose meaningfully.

Old Lukan gave a sly grin and winked. Guildmaster Jarl was one of the most influential guildmasters in Helstaad, and with his favor came increased wealth and prestige.

"Oh, but look at the late hour. Forgive me, master Lukan, I hadn't meant to keep you and your grandson so long past the end of your day," Lodune said.

Lukan shrugged off the issue, "Nonsense, sir, nonsense. Hurn! Fetch the copper hinged chest! And be quick! This gentlemen is waiting!"

The child, no more than ten Festivals, complained under his breath as he went back to the cart. The little donkey attached to it gave a small whinny, eager to be home and munching hay.

Soon the contents of this third chest had been emptied onto the now disorganized table of Lukan's stall. Lamps and torches were being lit around the outskirts of the market as the glow of the setting sun faded to black. Young Hurn was looking increasingly exhausted, no doubt worked hard by his grandfather. Lukan himself was becoming visibly annoyed. Lodune was sure he'd heard the old man's stomach growl at least once, yet the tailor continued sorting through the contents of the decorative chest with the copper hinges. The clothing inside the chest was truly remarkable, with embroidered gowns, beaded cowls and cloaks, and fine silk breaches and tunics.

The tailor offered several suggestions, each of which Lodune politely declined. Lukan even managed to find a rich red tunic at the bottom of the ornate chest, but it was too small.

"I'm sorry to have kept you so long, Master Tailor," Lodune said apologietically, "only to disappoint us both. I had so hoped to impress the guildmasters this evening. As it is, I must hurry to a bath that I might make the dinner banquet this evening."

"Wait!" screeched the exasperated tailor. Failing at regaining his composure, he continued, "It would be a great honor to have my wares seen by the guildmasters. Please, let me find the perfect pieces for you."

"I couldn't, not at this late hour..." Lodune began.

"Yes, yes you can!" shouted the tailor, surprising himself. Lodune could hear the steady rumbling of the poor old man's stomach, driving him to make a deal.

Lukan began frantically tossing items about, eyeing Lodune for size. The early evening darkness made color matching difficult, so he shouted for his grandson to bring a lantern. Soon the pale illumination was filling the only remaining stall with people in it, accentuating the hooked nose of the tailor and the wan palor of his complexion.

The tailor soon matched the blue and gold tunic with a beaded and embroidered round mantle of deep purple. The embroidery on the mantle consisted of a repeating geometric pattern along the edge of the mantle, with gold colored beads worked into the design. The mantle included a small hood with a short, pointed top. It was a stunning ensemble, and more than Lodune was looking for. Still, it'd make a great impression with Khair tonight.

Lodune took on a bored expression, yawning widely. Lukan was obviously quite vexed at the long delay, his hand often resting on his stomach as if to silence the rumblings emanating from within. Casting a baleful eye upon the ensemble the tailor had put together, he said, "I just don't know. Is that even fashionable? What will the guildmasters think?"

Young Hurn threw his head into his hands at this, and poor Lukan lost the color in his face.

"I assure you that not only is this fashionable, it is unique. You will make an impression upon the guildmasters, to be sure. They shall surely want to know where you obtained such finery, so be sure to tell them that Lukan the Tailor outfitted you," the old tailor said, his voice heavy with age, hunger, and exhaustion.

"If you're sure this will impress..." Lodune trailed off, thoughtful, "If they should ask, I'll be sure to tell them of Master Lucien the Tailor..."

"It's Lukan the Tailor, you dolt!" the tailor spat out, hunger having driven all civility from his person, "And you will tell them, whether they ask or not, because I am late for my dinner and my wife and I shall never hear the end of it. Now go! Go before you say anything more. Get yourself cleaned up and impress Guildmaster Jarl with my work!"

The old tailor seemed to weaken visibly at the outburst, his face red in the pale light of the lantern. He bent over, steadying himself against the table, his breathing shallow and quick. His grandson look up at him, worried.

"Forgive me, master tailor, I meant no..." Lodune began, perhaps just a little concerned for the old fellow. Lukan held up a hand, cutting him off.

"Say not another word, sir, and be gone with thee! I must get to repacking my wares and setting home. My daughter is going to be furious with me keeping Hurn out so long," he said to no one in particular. Faint pangs of guilt shot through Lodune as the old man waved him away. Still, Lodune waited for the old man and his grandson to look away. With both of them otherwise occupied, Lodune managed to snag the first tunic he'd been shown, an undyed cotton piece that would be perfect for day to day wear.

His garments and purse secured, Lodune crept around to the back of the stall, where a heavy canvas blocked him from the view of Lukan, who himself was busy with refolding and repacking his goods. Lodune motioned for Hurn to come silently to him. Quiety opening his purse, he pulled out a number of coins, then knelt and whispered, "Your grandfather has failed to charge me. Give him this after he has eaten," Lodune said, pressing a silver coin into the child's hand.

"And this," said Lodune, pressing four copper coins into the youngster's hand, "is for any trouble I caused you tonight, young master. Buy your mother something she'd like."

Young Hurn beamed broadly, unable to believe that he'd just been given four whole copper coins to do with as he pleased. He was about to speak, but Lodune motioned for him to remain silent. The child nodded, and Lodune turned and quickly melt into the growing darkness of the evening. Lukan's suggestion of a bath was a fine one, so Lodune set off in search of a public bath house for a quick scrub beforfe his meeting with Khair. Assuming Misha had been able to get in touch with him.

CHAPTER XIV

[MAYBE SOMETHING ABOUT THE BATHS AND THE LOCAL "FAUNA" HERE]

Lodune emerged from the baths refreshed, his tattered old tunic thrown out. He wore his brilliant new blue tunic, which was both comfortable and almost perfectly tailored to him. Over this was his new mantle and hood. His other tunic he stashed in his pack along with his cowl. He had his pack strapped to his back, his old woolen cloak draped over it. His rapier hung at his side. The new clothing stood out against his ratty old cloak and breeches, but the look worked. Or so he hoped. The public bath didn't have a reflecting pool or mirror, so he was unsure exactly how he looked, but he assumed it was good enough for the company he'd be keeping this evening.

Lodune made his way to the east side of the river, where the town's inns and taverns were to be found. He was heading to the Bloated Boar, an old establishment that he patronized whenever he came through Helstaad. Popular with low ranking guild officials, merchants, and travelers, he found it to be a perfect place to pick up information. They also just happened to serve the finest beer this side of [THE LAKE].

Winding through the uncommonly broad streets of east Helstaad, Lodune passed by several closed shops, most of them specializing in a particular craft, such as silver working, needleworking, armoring, and so on. Aside from the inns and taverns, almost all the town's bakers and butchers and dairymen were found on the west side of town. Lodune had no idea why this was, but Helstaad was a place very much ruled by tradition and habit. Lodune figured it was due to the presence of the wizards, somehow. Although not as fearful of wizards as most, Lodune still had little to do with them. The only thing sneakier than a thief was a wizard, the old addage went.

Speaking of wizards..., Lodune thought to himself as he passed down a wide boulevard that ran east to west. To the east, down the lantern lit street, stood the entrance to the Nidus Collegium. The walls of the NC, as the locals referred to it, were higher than those surrounding Helstaad itself, easily as tall as three tall men. Rough hewn stone made up the bulk of the wall, with decorative bits of marble at regular intervals. The entry to the NC was a large, peaked portal, with doors which were fashioned of adamantine, said to have been a gift from the northern orcs several generations before. The doors bore arcane symbols and script from ancient languages, and were said to glow eerily on nights of proper stellar alignment. A portcullis made of steal was currently lowered in front of the two massive doors. Although less strong then adamntine, the steel portcullis was often seen lowered while the doors were open, for what purpose a non-wizard could only guess at.

Above the walls of the NC could be seen the sturdy square towers of the Nidus Collegium itself. Really more of a keep than any kind of college or monastary, the NC was massive but otherwise nondescript. The central square building rose four stories into the air, with four corner towers rising another three stories above that. Lights flickered in the many narrow windows of the place, most of them familiar yellow glows, but some flickering green, red, or blue. Small fires were visible from the top of the towers, with sentries visible in silhouette. The wizards were known to employ their own guards, typically young initiates proven to have little or no skill in magic. These they trained in the martial arts, and it was said that some retained minor magic ability. The Nidus Collegium was indeed well protected, regardless of whatever magic was said to be practiced within.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Lodune stepped off the main boulevard and headed south down a busy side street. A number of taverns were located here, and weary tradesmen were busy getting an early start on their nightly drinking. Light and laughter filled the early twilit night, and tavern patrons wandered the street, looking for tonight's watering hole.

The strong smell of a stable marked the location of the Bloated Boar, a successful inn and tavern run by a family by the name of Hollings. The family had been running the business for as long as Lodune had been coming to Helstaad, and with his infrequent visits over the years he'd seen their children sprout like weeds. Old Man Hollings and his wife, though, appeared ageless. Mother Hollings was a sweet lass, good with names and making folks feel welcome, while Old Man Hollings was terse and somewhat unpleasant, but a most excellent brewmaster. His brew was legendary locally, and he refused to produce more than he could use in his business. It was a crafty business strategy, and had bolstered the inn's income over the years.

The buiding was a two story construction, with a narrow first floor and a wide second. Stables were situated around back, and were maintained by the youngest of the Hollings brood. A large signpost was planted in front of the building, proudly depicting a boar with an enormous belly. The eldest of the Hollings' children, a strapping lad by the name of Enid, supplied the inn with wild boar, which he regularly hunted in the woods to the east of the town. The aroma of Mother Hollings' cooking permeated the soft evening breeze, and Lodune realized just how hungry he was from his most eventful day.

Pushing past the rabble thronged around the front door, Lodune made his way into the tavern. Several large, rectangular tables filled the room, with a number of more private booths built along the walls. The bar offered a few stools and plenty of standing room, and Lodune quickly realize that the entire room was filled to capacity. Mother Hollings' food always did seem magical, Lodune thought. Pushing his way through the crowd, he made it to the bar. Old Man Hollings was there, as always, switching out empty barrels of ale while one of his comely daughters (Rosa? Lodune could remember) was busy tending to the patrons at the bar.

The jostling of the crowd was increasingly unpleasant to Lodune, as his many scratches and cuts stung painfully each time he was pushed or shoved. He was preparing to leave when a a strong hand grabbed his left arm and spun him around. The dagger from his belt was in his right hand before he'd been completely spun around, and before he could react further he was greeted with an enormous bear hug and a fuzzy, sloppy kiss.

It was Khair. The Sentinal stood several inches taller than Lodune, with a scruffy goatee and short, black curls ringing his head. Delicate characters from the [ANCIENT LANGUAGE] were tattooed under each brown eye, and similar markings could be seen on the tanned skin of the backs of his hands. Lodune knew from personal experience that the ancient script continued up each arm, down each leg, and was wreathed around the Sentinal's neck. A lone character was also tattooed just above his manhood, although Khair never revealed the purpose of the tatoos. The Sentinal was clad in soft leather breeches and a short calfskin jacket of a dirty cotton shirt. Stiff leather boots covered his feet, and a length of soft black cloth was wrapped around his his head, revealing only his face.

Khair smiled warmly, once again clasping Lodune.

"Lodune, you old dog! Look at you!" Khair said, sizing him up. "You're better dressed than last I saw you. I hope that means you're doing well. But what's this, you seemed to flinch just a bit when I touched you."

Lodune was about to speak when Khair waved him off. "A moment, my friend. I've a booth against the far wall, which is no doubt why you failed to see me upon your entrance. Come! I've a pitcher of Old Man Hollings' finest, and an extra tankard just waiting for you."

The tall Sentinal easily pressed his way through the crowd, Lodune following closely behind. He couldn't help smiling broadly himself; he hand't seen Khair in several moons, and he realized just how much he'd missed him.

[LODUNE AND KHAIR CATCH UP - BACKGROUND & FILLER]

[LODUNE AND KHAIR MAKE PLANS TO LEAVE THE CITY]

[LODUNE AND KHAIR JOURNEY TO HEGLAK WEAP & ARE ATTACKED BY EVIL MINIONS]

[LODUNE AND KHAIR REACH HEGLAK WEAP & DEAL WITH ANGRY ORCS]

[LODUNE AND KHAIR GET TO THE ORC KING AND EXPLAIN THE SITUATION]

[ORCS ARE EN ROUTE TO DEFEND HEGLAK WEAP & TO FIGHT FOR THE RELEASE OF THEIR AMBASSADOR - ORCS LEFT A DAY OR TWO BEFORE LODUNE REACHES HEGLAK WEAP]

[VALEMARK OCCUPYING HELSTAAD BY THE TIME THE ORCS REACH IT - ORCS REACH HELSTAAD A DAY OR SO AHEAD OF LODUNE - ORCS BEGIN FIGHTING VALEMARK TROOPS IMMEDIATELY - RESIDENTS OF HELSTAAD BEGIN TO FLEE]

[XUULKAR BEGINS RITUAL TO SUMMON OGG-MET TWO OR THREE DAYS AFTER FIGHTING BREAKS OUT - HAS SPREAD FEAR AND PANIC TO BOLSTER SUMMONING MAGIC - RITUAL PERFORMED ON SPECIAL DAY WHICH FACILITATES SUMMONING GOD]

Lodune, Khair, and Miku sped down [THE RIVER] in the little skiff. They were making good time, and would likely hit the outskirts of Helstaad ahead of nightfall. The three spoke little during the journey, taking turns with the rudder and double-checking their equipment at regular intervals. Both Lodune and Khair had tried to engage the orc prince in conversation, but the young warrior would have none of it. Anger played constantly at his eyes, and worry hung heavy on the rest of his features. Lodune hoped that they found Theake alive and well, and soon. Miku didn't look like he'd last much longer in his current state.

By late afternoon they could see the towers of the Nidus Collegium on the horizon, with small clouds of smoke just to the east of the town. Most likely from the Valemark camp, Lodune thought. An hour later and they could see the low walls of the town itself, and clouds of dust on smoke erupting around the town itself. The signs of the orc encampment could be seen as well, a line of brightly colored tents and pavilions dotting the fields to the west of the town. The swift current of the river would soon have them at the orc encampment, so it was time to prepare.

"Are we ready, lads?" Lodune asked, looking about the skiff. Miku had been busy getting the last pieces of his armor on, and it shone brightly in the waning light of the afternoon. The prince wore a fine, sturdy gold gilt breastplate over a heavy shirt made of tightly woven silk. The shirt itself would have blocked most arrows, so tight was the weave. Over leather leggings he wore gold gilt plates, as well as a decidedly plain codpiece. Unlike most human nobility, orcs saw no benefit in exaggerating their groins in regards to their armor. Miku's arms bore similar light plates over silk sleaves, and his hands were fit with exquisite gauntlets. An rather simple, gold gilt and open faced helm sat next to him in the skiff, and draped over the entire ensemble was a small red mantle, richly embroidered in the angular fashion of orcish art, with the name of Miku's family worked in as a reoccurring pattern. The young warrior looked truly regal, and Lodune hoped it would be enough to get them past their first hurdle into the town.

Khair, for his part, was always ready. Sentinals traveled light and pragmatically. Attired in his buckskin leggings and shirt, Khair looked like any number of trappers or simple huntsmen from the eastern kingdoms.

Clapping his hands together in mock excitement, Lodune said, "Very good. Let's get ready to abandon ship, shall we?"

The skiff was well in view of the orc encampment by this point. The camp was sparsely populated, with the majority of the force located under the rising plumes of dust rising above the town. Lodune piloted the skiff to the western side of the river, hoping that the orc prince would get the three of them safe passage into the town. The river entrance had been blocked by the orcs, who were in control of the mechanism that raised a heavy chain just above the water line and across the river. Seeing the skiff, two well armed orc guards hurried to the river's edge, spears at the ready.

The orc warriors wore simple chainmail vests over tightly woven silk jackets which appeared to be identical to that worn by Miku, with common leather leggings and stout, high boots. Thick leather gauntlets covered their hands, and tabbards drapped over their armor bore the seal of Heglak Weap.

"Stop!" boomed the first orc, a short fellow with arms as thick as small trees. He bore particularly exaggerated lower canines, and his dark eyes were placed perhaps too close together. His companion was somewhat taller and much lankier, built more like a human than an orc. His lower canines barely jutted forth from his mouth, and he hung back, letting the stouter fellow handle the intruders.

Lodune, Khair, and Miku climbed out of the skiff, ignoring the orcs. The two guards exchanged confused glances as they took in the site of Miku in his full battle gear. Still, they stayed their ground, refusing to let the intruders pass.

"I said stop right there, the lot of you," grumbled out the lead guard, his voice deep and gravely. His silent friend looked confused by Miku, and he kept staring at Lodune and Khair as if they were apparitions.

Miku took a step forward, lifting his head up high.

"Fools!" he quietly shouted at the orc guards. "Who do you mistake me for? Some common bandit? Some agent of Valemark? Do you not recognize my crest?"

The shorter orc guard stared at Miku dumbly, not understanding what the younger orc was getting at. His silent partner, however, figured it out quickly. Falling to one knee and lower his head, he tugged on the tabbard of his fellow guard, urging him to do likewise.

"Forgive us, Master Eguzko!" came the nasally reply. The first orc guard, dumpstruck, quickly followed the example of his fellow and dropped to one knee.

"General Eguzko!" cried the first orc, although whether confused or just stupid Lodune couldn't yet say, "We weren't expecting you!" The second guard punched the first in the arm at the mistake, obviously confusing him even more.

"Not general, you oaf! I am his son, Miku Eguzko. I can see now why two such as yourselves were left to guard the camp rather than share in the joys of battle," Miku said, letting the words settle and sting. "You may yet redeem yourselves, if you can tell me how goes the campaign?"

The first orc was about to speak when his friend struck him again. The second orc spoke, "Master Eguzko, things appear to be progressing apace. The foul army of Valemark stands encamped outside the eastern edge of Helstaad, with many soldiers having taken easily fortified positions within the town some time before our arrival. Your father currently leads the battle against the traiterous dogs, although we cannot know where in town he currently is."

Khair leaned in to Miku's ear, whispering. Miku nodded slightly and spoke to the guards, "And the Nidus Collegium? How fares the mages' academy?"

Before his friend could stop him, the first orc blurted out, "Impenetrable at the moment, my lord. The wizards haven't shown themselves as yet, and the gate to their compound remains tightly barred. Your father the general seemed pleased that this was the case, when last he held council in camp."

Miku scanned the skyline of the town, trying to gauge just where his father might be. Turning back to the guards, he demanded, "Where are the runners? I must get word to my father at once."

The two guards clumsily stood and pointed towards the center of the encampment. A partially concealed banner bearing the standard of the Runners could be seen waving gently in the late afternoon air. Miku nodded in acknowledgement and said, "Very well. You may yet become warriors. Now stay sharp, and return to your duties!"

The two orc guards crossed their arms over their chests, their hands in fists, and bowed formally. Lodune and Khair watched them as they hurried off, resuming their patrol of the river bank. Miku headed straight for the tent of the Runners, Lodune and Khair hastily catching up with the young warrior.

"I regret that you had to see that," Miku said earnestly as he strode with confidence into the orc encampment. "Please know that few orc warriors are so inept. I doubt you shall see their like again."

Lodune and Khair exchanged worried glances, not at all sure what the prince had meant. Orcs were an amazing people, but it was often difficult to know just when they were being serious and when they were being deadly serious.

They followed Miku into the camp. Small groups of orc warriors were busy going about their duties, much of which was centered around preparations for the coming evening. Torches and lanterns were being freshened, and the exotic smell of orc cuisine was beginning to emminate from the central mess tent. Lodune rubbed his belly idly, unsure when his last real meal had been. Orcish cuisine was something of an acquired taste, made up of tangy and spicy sauces with strange mushrooms and whatever meat was available. It was said that orc warriors were fierce not because of their weapons or prowess, but because they where in a hurry to return to their mess tents after battle.

"You know, a quick bite before entering the town might not be such a bad idea," Lodune put forth, looking to Khair for support in this plan. He suspected he already knew what the orc's position on that would be.

"Bah - time enough for that after we've found Theake," Miku said, violence flashing across his face as he said the name of his beloved. Disheartened, Lodune looked to Khair for solace. Khair simply shrugged his shoulders, and continued on after the orc. Dejected and starving, Lodune followed along as well.

They were soon at the tent of the Runners, and Miku stepped inside to impart the message he was having delivered to his father. General Eguzko did not yet realize that both Valemark and Heglak Weap had been duped, and it was up to Miku to get that word out. Outside the tent, Lodune and the Sentinal were attracting no small amount of attention as they stood waiting for the prince. Their gall at standing in the center of an orcish army encampment was keeping them safe from the orcs for the time being, but the sooner Miku returned the better.

As if on queue, Miku exited the Runner's tent, followed by a lithe young orc maiden who wore a tabbard emblazoned with the crest of House Eguzko. Orc runners were often older children, and always bore the crest of the one who's message they carried. The orc child was soon running out of the camp, towards the western gate of the town. Miku glared at the growing number of orcs who had begun to mill about, watching Lodune and the Sentinal. The small crowd disperssed quickly, and soon all activity in the camp had returned to normal.

"I've sent word to my father," Miku said, his voice grave, "Let us hope that he receives it in a timely fashion. Come, let us away to the western gates. We've a rescue to undertake." With that, the three strode purposefully towards the town.

On the way out of the camp, they happened to pass by an orc warrior enjoying a bowl of the spicy orc cuisine. Lodune snatched the small wooden bowl and spoon out of the surprised orc's hands, holding up a hand to silence any protestation.

"Lord Miku Eguzko requires sustenance," he said by way of explanation. The orc's eyes widened, and he performed the cross-armed bow salute. Lodune tipped his head, then hurried to catch up with his companions, happily slurping down the creamy, spicy contents of the bowl.

Lodune, Khair, and Miku made their way to the western gate of the town, passing by a steady stream of refugees fleeing through the gate. Orc warriors were directing them away from the encampment and towards the road that lead north to the mountains or south to the desert. They were likely heading to the small villages that dotted the western plains, and which provided most of the grain the city enjoyed. Friends and relations in the villages would likely take the displaced folks in.

The gate itself was really just a break in the low wall that surrounded the town, with two large doors made of thick wooden planks bound by steel bands. The doors swung inward, and four orc warriors currently guarded either side of the entry. Once through the gate, Lodune was startled by the change in the town since last he was there. While the peasant workers had fled to the outlying villages, the middle class and the wealthy had remained, barred within their homes, confident in the ability of the orcs to fight off the unwanted protection of Valemark.

Lodune still had difficulty accepting the ease in which Valemark and Heglak Weap had been manipulated into a confrontation. He knew that there was a lesson to be learned on human nature in there somewhere, but it eluded him at the moment as he and his compatriots stumbled upon a skirmish within the market square. Roughly fifteen soldiers bearing the standard of Valemark fought to hold the square against ten orc warriors. The orcish battle cries were ferocious, and Lodune and Khair had to restrain Miku from instinctively joining the fray.

"Time enough for battle, little brother," Khair said, slowly releasing the young warrior from his grasp. Miku spat in resignation, hesitating just a moment to see the direction the fight was going. From their vantage across the square, it appeared as if the orcs were easily besting the soldiers of Valemark. The three hurried on, heading in the direction of the Nidus Collegium. The sun had finally set, the sky aglow in the final show of the day's light.

They reached the northern of the two bridges over [THE RIVER], a relatively narrow affair that just barely allowed three grown men to walk side by side across it. Like its larger sibling to the south, this bridge was designed to open in the middle, both halves swinging to the side to allow passage of tall river boats. The larger, southern bridge was in fact sitting open, apparently at the order of the orcs who were stationed on the western side of the river, archers trained at the far end of the bridge.

The northern bridge, however, appeared to be completely unguarded. Miku gestured for the three to stop, crouching out of sight of the far end of the bridge. Lodune and Khair joined him.

"Why no guards?" Miku asked, "Neither Valemark nor Heglak Weap stand ready to defend this vital crossing. A trap?"

"An excellent assumption," Lodune said.

"Agreed," said Khair, scratching his scruffy goatee thoughtfully. "However, the skirmish we just passed in the market square may have orginated here, explaining why the bridge is no longer protected. Perhaps we are merely blessed with a clear path."

"I've had bad experience with blessings," Lodune said wryly, "but I know all about luck. Let's move, low and quick, across the bridge. Blessing or luck, we should seize the opportunity, and quickly."

Khairn and Miku agreed, so the three set across the bridge. Lodune lead the way, moving silently and blending almost naturally with the evening shadows, such that he appeared as little more than a movement out the corner of one's eye. Miku followed, his bulky armor making the faintest sounds as he skulked his way across the bridge. Khairn took up the rear, silent as a cat, his sharp eyes keeping watch on the western side of the bridge.

All three made it accross the bridge without incident. Somewhere, in the near distance, sounds of continued fighting could be heard, although the sounds of battle were thinning due to the encroaching darkness. Civilized soldiers didn't fight under cover of darkness, and both armies would be needing rest and food. Lodune and the rest had just decided on a path to the Nidus Collegium when Khair pointed to the clearn night sky.

"The Bale Star," he said, shaking his head, "An ill omen. Something truly wicked is afoot. Watch yourselves, my friends."

As the three set off towards the Collegium, Lodune stopped dead in his tracks. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered. The chill, moist air of evening was being subtly joined by the pungent, unpleasant odor of brimstone. Lodune anxiously looked around himself, fearful of the foul magical fog he had already encountered twice before.

Miku and Khair watched him, confused. "What is it?" Khair asked, fearful of anything that would spook Lodune.

"Brimstone. Do you smell it? I have smelt it twice in recent memory, and both times it was associated with the foulest wizardry," Lodune said, perplexed. "Beware of mists and fogs tonight, gentlemen, as they will herald dark trickery."

Lodune quickly explained what had happened in Ahzikaam, and then later aboard the "Crimson Pike" just off the shore of Helstaad. Khair listened thoughtfully, while Miku made an unpleasant face.

"Magic!" the young orc said before spitting in disgust.

"Indeed," said the Sentinal, pointing towards the Nidus Collegium. Lights were visible in the small, shuttered windows of the Collegium, as well as rarely in the upper floors of the merchant homes in the district surrounding the Collegium. A thick mist could be scene against the lights, pale and every shifting. As the three watched, the mist moved unnaturally, heading south towards the lake.

"Well then. If my guess is correct, we'll be dealing with noughouans soon," Lodune said ruefully. "Let's hurry our way to the Nidus Collegium before we learn the truth of the matter."

[PREVIOUS SCENES NEED TO BE REWRITTEN TO REFLECT THE FACT THAT THE TOWN IS OVERRUN WITH NOUGHOUAN BY THE TIME THE HEROES ARRIVE. ALSO, THE MAGES ARE OUT IN FORCE, TRYING TO DEFEND THE CITIZENS OF THE TOWN. EVIL EMMINATIONS FROM THE COMING OF OGG-MET DRIVE THE VALEMARK AND ORC ARMIES TO ATTACK EACH OTHER ON SIGHT, REGARDLESS OF THE NOUGHOUAN]

The three crept through the darkened alleys of Helstaad, heading towards the tall walls of the Nidus Collegium. The dark night was broken with occassional light from within a carefully barred building, but the standard illuminations were missing. Everyone who normally hung a lantern or torch out had already fled the town. The thickening, malign fog also concealed what stars were visible on such a spring evening, and the moon itself had waned to nothing, as if fearful of the scene below.

In the distance came the sounds of battle. Metal struck metal, inarticulate curses were met with angry shouts, and the weird keening of the swarming noughouan echoed through the abandoned streets. Here and there could be heard the sounds of magic, sharp and other worldly. And everywhere was the evil fog, reeking of brimstone and dark intent. The three heroes could feel the intrusive thrust of chaos and negativity brimming within the noisome cloud, like a nagging memory desperate to be regained. Even though the charms of the old "qorjing" were succeeding in fending off the evil of the fog, the three were left feeling uneasy.

Lodune, Khair, and Miku were keeping to the northern most part of the town, eager to avoid getting embroiled in melee with the sea creatures or the waring armies. Khair lead the way, his Sentinal gifts allowing him to pick out the path to the Collegium in even the blackest night. Miku followed behind him, surprsingly silent in his heavy suit of orcish armor. Lodune took up the rear, his trained senses wary of any possible threat. Helstaad had become some sort of nightmare world, and all traces of the quaint commercial town had vanished in the harsh realities of this evil night.

The three continued their slow and careful crawl towards the Nidus Collegium, and Mikum was growing increasingly restless.

"I've had enough of this hideous skulking about!", he hissed, "Let us make our way boldly to the mages' keep. Our cause is just; we will prevail."

"Aye, our cause is a just one indeed," Khair said, stopping and carefully investigating the thick darkness, "But do not assume victory on that merit alone. Evil is afoot this night, ancient and eager, and more than a just cause will be needed if we are to defeat it."

"Hsst!" Lodune said from the rear. He had spotted something moving in the darkness, short and shambling. His companions fell silent immediately, just in time to hear the loud, nearby keening of a noughouan. All three men instinctively went for their weapons at the sound, waiting for the creature to emerge from the fog enshrouded shadows.

Two heartbeats passed, and the keening came again, followed by another, then another. It was impossible to determine how many there were, given the echo of their cries. The sound began to die down, echoes fading into the night, when the silhouette of one of the fish men became visible within the faint light of the night.

Miku prepared to bolt, but Khair placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. Another silhouette joined the first, then another, and another still. Lodune's heart raced as more of the foul beats came into view, having managed to make it through whatever battles were being fought near the docks. Lodune counted at least ten in all, though he wasn't sure if there were more.

Lodune silently conveyed the number of noughouan he saw to Khair and Miku, who nodded in agreement. He motioned Khair to sneak around to the side of the group, intending not only to flank them but to also ensure that no more were hidden within the fog. Miku and he would simply launch at the group, a tactic Lodune normally avoided but which he was willing to do given the orc's skill in battle. Seeing that Khair had moved into position, Lodune gave the signal and he and Miku launched into the shambling creatures, an orcish cry of battle impulsively escaping Miku's lips.

Ah, youth, Lodune thought as he drew his sword, easily drawing it fatally across the belly of one of the dank creatures. Khair lept into the fray as well, longsword carving a wide swatch through the fog. Miku had already taken down two noughouan with his long handled battle axe, and was digging into the next two when the three were surprised by the appearance of a screaming man.

The man was dressed in the armor of Valemark, consisting of a mail shirt over leather and padding. A small helm protected his head, and a torn and stained tabbard bearing the standard of Valemark hung sloppily over his shoulders. Whatever belt he had once worn was now gone, and his left hand was missing the leather gauntlet common to the Valemark infantry. Lodune noticed a dark, moist patch on the bare hand, which hung limply at the soldier's side. Either the arm was broken, or he had been struck with the paralyzing claws of the noughouan. What struck Lodune as most significant was the raw fury in the man's eyes, his mouth in a spittle ringed snarl of rage. Lodune absently patted the charm he wore around his neck, thankful he wasn't consumed with the evil drive of the fog.

The berserker was screaming in demonic rage as he cut through the remaining noughouan, quickly falling on Miku as he finished the last of the fish men. The orc prince was a formidable fighter, likely as good as Khair or Lodune, but the one armed soldier pressed a vicious attack, fueled by the malicious power of Ogg-Met. Miku cut deep into the berserker's useless arm with his axe, failing to illicit a reaction from the possessed soldier. Lodune leapt to Miku's aid, attempting to draw the man's attention. The ploy worked. As the soldier began a merciless assault on Lodune, Khair came up behind him, slicing his exposed throat with a dagger. The unfortunate warrior slumped to the ground. Tranquility replaced fury on the dead man's face, and the effect sent a shiver down Lodune's back.

"Let's not do that again," Lodune said, trying to shake the image from his mind, "I'd rather not have to kill these poor bastards."

"Agreed," said Khair, "and the more time we waste on them, the closer we come to having the whole of creation fall under the spell of the Father of Pain."

"Theake..." Miku said, staring off towards the dimly lit towers of the Nidus Collegium.

Lodune and Khair shared a look of understanding. "Right. Let's go, men," Khair said, and the three were soon skulking through the darkness once more.

Ambassador Osporro Karkere hurried through the dark, fog enshrouded streets of Helstaad, eager for his meeting with Xuulkar. The Magus had arranged for them to meet near a warehouse owned by a wealthy merchant family out of Valemark. The mage had given the ambassador a magical amulet which would protect him from the events set to unfold that evening. Still, the unholy keening noise of those hideous noughouans left the blood chilled, and the ambassador was looking forward to once again being indoors and next to a fire.

Osporro wondering how his son was doing in the Magus' care. Theake had been such a disappointment, taking up with that orc general's filthy offspring. Such behavior was unseemly to an upstanding member of Valemark society, and Osporro was eager to be as upstanding as possible. If word of the boy's dalliances got back to the ears of the Valemark court, then Osporro could be assured that his remote diplomatic appointment would be the crowning achievement of his political career. No, it had been a fine thing that Basilisk Magus Xuulkar had come along and offered to help.

For a mage, Xuulkar seemed quite warm and engaging, Osporro thought. Not like most of the aloof members of the Nidus Collegium. If only more of the mages turned out like Xuulkar, then the order of mages wouldn't have the reputiont it had. The ambassador chuckled at that thought, as he realized just what Xuulkar had master minded. Pitching Valemark and the orcs of Heglak Weap together in war in order to lay claim to Helstaad was nothing short of brilliant. Using his errant son as the hook for Valemark was a priceless stroke of genius. Osporro was sure that, given time, Theake would understand the necessity of the plan, even congratulate his father for being bold enough to make the decision. After all, the whole of the family Karkere would benefit from the improved social standing that the increased revenues from Helstaad would bring.

The ambassador had grabbed a lamp from the front of an empty tavern on his way toward the warehouse, the proprietors hoping beyond reason that someone might stop in for a pint. Osporro held the lantern high in an attempt to pierce the growing fog, wishing that the Magus had embued the amulet he wore with some form of anti-fog magic. Sounds of steel against steel echoed in the distance, a sure sign that the soliders of Valemark had encountered the warriors of Heglak Weap. Osporro chuckled to himself, knowing that by this time tomorrow Xuulkar would be Exarch of the Nidus Collegium, and he himself would control the wealth of Helstaad's shipping industry.

Osporro drew a map from his belt, drawn in the exquisite hand of the Magus. Checking his bearings as best he could, he spend on, finally reaching the warehouse. Moving to the alley beside the building, he took in the sight. Built of carefully cut stone, the warehouse was currently owned by one of the wealthier merchants in Lutholm. Typically filled with grains from the local farms, it was often also home to fine orc silks and exquisite rugs woven by the master craftsmen of Wouan. Osporro giggled to himself as he imagined the look on the merchant's face when he was told that the new government of Helstaad had seized control of his warehouse.

Banish Osporro Karkere to the far reaches of the earth, will they? He thought to himself. Well, look who's laughing now.

A sound at the mouth of the alley broke the ambassador from his greed fueld reverie. Shining the lantern down the alley, he called out, "Magus, is that you?" He could discern a figure walking towards him, but they moved silently.

"Master Xuulkar? It's Osporro," the ambassador said, squinting in futility at the fog.

The figure drew closer, and Osporro recoiled. It was one of the hateful noughouans, the subhuman fish men that Xuulkar had stirred up in order to add to the night's confusion. The thing's black pearl eyes stared at the ambassador, unblinking, it's round, lamprey mouth undulating silently in a gross aproximation of speech. The creature continued slowly towards the ambassador, who instinctively stepped backward.

Regaining his composure, the ambassador drew the amulet Xuulkar had given him. The simple gold bauble had been etched with obviously magical markings, and was suspended from a fine gold chain. Bolding displaying the amulet to the creature, Osporro said, "Begone, sea demon! By your master Xuulkar, I command it!"

The noughouan stopped dead in its tracks, it's expressionless face staring at him blankly. The creature stood there, slowly turning its head so as to better see the ambassador with its oddly placed shark eyes.

"Very good," Osporro said, "Now be gone with you before your master arrives." The noughouan continued to stare at Osporro with its emotionless fish face, drawing ire from the ambassador.

"I said be gone!" he said, pushing his way past the creature. He hadn't gone more than six steps when he saw the silhouettes of several more noughouans approaching him.

Stupid creatures, he thought as the group of noughouans closed in on him. Do they not know this is a dead end? They should be out scaring the locals, for the love of Aarn.

The ambassador once again displayed the magical amulet, boldly dispelling the noughouans. The creatures continued to close in on him, however, and he stepped backwards instictively. Two steps backward and he jumped, having run into the first noughouan. Osporro gave a short, high-pitched scream until he realized what had happened.

"Oh, it's you again," he said, composing himself. Holding the amulet aloft in his right hand, and the lantern in his left, he said, "Behold the amulet of your master! Be gone, devils!"

It was then that the ambassador realized that he had been backed into an alley. The gang of noughoans stood staring at him briefly, then rushed at him with impressive speed. Osporror dropped the lanter as he tried to flee past the creatures, only to get cut several times by their horrible poisonous claws. The paralyzing poison worked quickly, and soon the ambassador was on the ground, so stiff as to be unable to scream. Burning poison coursed through his veins, and he realized that one of the claw attacks had ripped the amulet from his throat. It had fallen to the cobbled street next to the fallen lantern. By the light of the latern, Osporro could see that the amulet had chipped, revealing little more than a cheap metal trinket gilt in gold.

As the fish men descended upon his paralysed flesh, hideous mouths eager too feed, Osporror Karkere made a silent plea to the gods to watch over his son.

Khair's Sentinal path finding gift soon lead them to the northwestern corner of the walls of the Nidus Collegium. The walls were topped with simple battlements, and lacked towers. Magical protections were typically in place, but the recent waning of the Collegium's defenses left the large compound with only mundane protection. At least, that's what Lodune was counting on.

Miku and Khair kept watch as Lodune prepared his grappling gear. The eerily smooth walls of the Collegium defeated the use of his orc made climing gloves, and he needed to let the others scale the walls as well. Unslinging the length of rope slung around his shoulder and chest, he dug in his pack for his collapsable grappling hook. An ingenious device of orcish design, the three tines of the hook folded neatly against the hook's shaft for ease of transportation. It also made it extremely easy to conceal. Once opened and locked in place, the tines could easly hold the weight of two grown men without buckling. Lodune had risked a great deal in acquiring the device, and it had proven itself worth it time and time again. After tying and end of rope to the hook, he motioned Khair and Miku to stand back as he swung the hook in the air above his head. Three revolutions and he cast the hook, which landed with a clank between two battlements atop the wall. A few quick tests of the line proved it secure for climbing, so Lodune went first. Miku and Khair quickly followed, and within moments the three had succeeded in entering the elite grounds of the Nidus Collegium.

The three stood upon a narrow wooden catwalk that ringed the interior of the wall. The evil, obscuring fog that dominated the town was here as thick as cream. The ancient keep itself rose above the malign cloud, and faint, colored lights were visible within some of the small slit windows. Tendrils of the fog seemed to move with sinister purpose, as if mindfully climbing the sides of the keep, seeking entrance. Unlike the streets of Helstaad, the courtyard of the Collegium was silent, refusing even to admit the sounds of battle from without the compound.

"Alright, Sentinal. Lead the way," Lodune said, his voice much more light hearted than he actually felt.

Khair was looking around, obviously confused. He closed his eyes and muttered some kind of silent prayer, only to open them with the same bewildered look he had before.

"What now?" asked Miku, his voice heavy with impatience and anguish.

The Sentinal squinted into the darkness, then stared around his feet. "I've lost the path. Some terrible power has blocked it from the sight of K'sai." Khair sounded shocked, as if he had just discovered a much loved limb had gone missing.

"This isn't good, my friends," Lodune said, squinting into the fog in search of the nearest ladder or stairs down to the courtyard as he collected his rope and grappling hook. The rope he coiled in a pile on the catwalk, while the grappling hook he folded down and stashed once more into his pack.

Miku prepared to let out a terrible cry, but Khair placed a firm hand over the prince's mouth. Shocked, the orc stepped back and said, "You dare silence a lord of Heglak Weap? I could have you put to the lash for such an outrage!"

"Yes, yes, good prince," Khair said, "and you are welcome to do so should we live to see the grand halls of your homeland once more. For now, you are in my territory, and my sole purpose is the rescue of your beloved. Do as I say and we will pull through this. Now come, enough of this squabbling. Give me your hands."

Miku stared at Khair incredulously, but did as he was told. The Sentinal took the prince's hands and said, "Alright. Now close your eyes and think of Theake. Focus on the things you admire in him. Remember why you gave him your Pledge Band. Recall his scent, his touch...."

The Sentinal closed his own eyes as his voice trailed off. Miku shut his own eyes in concentration, and Lodune turned away, feeling unusually awkward for some reason he couldn't fathom. Several heartbeats passed, and Lodune looked again at the two. A smile had spread across the young orc's face, the first that Lodune had seen on the prince. Khair appeared to be chanting silently, his lips barely moving in the dim light of the blighted night.

"Ah ha!" Khair exclaimed, louder than Lodune would have liked. The Sentinal released Miku's hands and said, "Well done, prince. Truly your love of Theake is strong. It's allowed K'sai to once again find the path. Even now it glows like a smith's forge. This way, lads!"

Khair set off at a quick pace along the northernmost wall of the compound. The narrow catwalk allowed only single file passage, so Lodune found himself once again in the rear. They soon came to a ladder, which they hastily climbed down, into the thick of the malevolent fog. Lodune pulled up to Khair, whispering into his ear, "Did that actually work?"

Khair flashed a sly smile, then whispered, "It did, but I had no idea it would."

"You're unbelievable," Lodune said, tussling the Sentinals curls and planting a kiss on his forehead.

"I missed something," Miku stated plainly as the three headed into the mist, Khair once more in the lead.

The path took them through a freshly planted garden, the orderly furrows set off with neat mounds that would one day sprout vegetables. Lodune assumed they would be vegetables, althought it occurred to him that the mages could well be planting things Lodune had never even heard of. Checking his feet nervously, he pushed the thought from his mind. Horrors enough await us, he thought. No need to worry about the vegetable garden.

They soon found themselves at the side of the keep itself, a massive stone structure devoid of seams, as if the entire thing had been carved from a single block. The Sentinal had brought them to a plain wooden door, devoid of markings or even the scratches of use and wear. Neither handle nor hinges were visible, and Miku said, "Are you sure this is the door we're meant to go through?"

Khair scratched his scraggly goatee thoughtfully, staring first at the ground, then at the door. "This is the place," he said, "K'sai has never revealed a false path to me before. I trust it."

Lodune scrutinized the door. It was possible that magic was needed to open it, though he doubted that was the case. Most mages seemed pretty stingy with their magic, and wasting it on something like opening a door would be seen as a waste. No, there was a trick to this, and he'd find it. Pulling out his light stone, he whispered the activation word. The stone glowed softly, and he ran it along the door, looking for faint seals and hidden handles.

Miku spun around, anxiously peering into the darkness, his small, pointed ears twitching. "I thought I heard something," he said quietly.

Khair drew his sword, slowly turning around as he tried to pierce the thick fog. "I heard that, too. Soft footsteps, it sounded like," he said.

"Whatever it is, keep them off me so I can work," Lodune said testily. He hadn't yet figured out how the door worked, and it annoyed him. No wizard trickery was going to best him, by the gods. He continued to scan the surface of the door, expanding his search to the wall immediately surrounding it.

A high pitched whir sounded in the thick night air, and Miku let out a growl of surprise as he was struck in the leg with a throwing star. The unusual, sharp weapon had been thrown with expert precision through the fog, striking the orc in the soft silk armor behind his right knee. He pulled it out quickly and smelled it, wary of the poison which such weapons were often dipped in. Detecting none, he threw the blade aside and readied his axe.

"Some one or thing comes our way," Khair said to Lodune, "Now would be an excellent time to open the door, if you please."

Lodune ignored the request, focusing all his attention on finding the opening mechanism. If a Sentinal and an orc warrior couldn't protect him, little else would.

Two figures appeared out of the fog, and Khair stage whispered, "Lodune! Light!" Lodune turned to face the new arrivals, holding the light stone above his head.

The two were attired in simple, light armor of studded leather. Both were armed with short swords, with daggers visible in their belts. One of them sported several more of the throwing stars tucked within special pockets on his wide belt. As Lodune took in the sight by the red glow of his Light Stone, he realized that their eyes were wrong somehow. Wrong, but familiar.

"Their eyes!" he hissed, "They're without lids! Stop them!" He quickly slung the Light Stone back around his neck, whispering the deactivation to it as he drew his rapier.

Khair and Miku charged at the lidless minions, blades dull in the evil fog. The fallen Propugners easily stepped aside from the charge, short swords deflecting the incoming attacks. Lodune followed Miku's attack with his own, hoping to capitalize on the propugner's weak defensive position. The propugner flipped backwards, avoiding the rapier, his unwholesome, wide eyes unblinking.

Khair faired no better with is own opponent. The Sentinal had easily recovered from the initial charge and miss, but was finding no inroad to his adversary. The wide eyes watched him carefully, countering every attack and annoying every feint. His attacker's short sword seemed to be gaining momentum, ripping a gash in the soft leather of his jacket.

Miku swung his axe fiercly, but with uncanny control. His blade had successfully drawn a thin dark line across the left cheek of his opponent, to no effect. The wide, lidless eyes just watched as he attacked, unsettling the prince. Years of training in orcish combat had steeled him for battle, but nothing had prepared him for self impossed mutilation. The sight was unsettling, and Miku was eager to see both attackers dead or driven back into the hell fog that had spawned them.

Miku and Khair kept up the assualt, gaining little headway in the battle. Miku took another hit, this time from a well placed blow from his opponent's short sword. His attacker had artfully planted the tip of the blade into the soft wrist area of his right hand, sinking the blade just deep enough to cause surprise and sharp pain. A flury of orcish cursing erupted from him as he drew back. Quickly checkering his surroundings, he shouted to Khair, "Damn the Makers! Does Lodune always run at the sight of battle?"

Khair traded strikes with his own attacker, sparks flying in the foggy night air. Breathing heavily, he replied, "He's a very crafty fellow. Expect that." He then renewed his assualt on his attacker, succeeding in landing a deep cut across his opponent's chest.

Miku grunted in reply as he stepped up his own attack, his agile opponenent easily avoiding the young orc's heavy axe. Just then his opponent let out a gurgling cry. Xuulkar's minion fell to ground, clutching his right ankle as he lay on his back. Miku seized the opportunity and drove his axe into the hapless minion's chest. A loud crack was heard as the blade broke through ribs on its journey to the heart.

Khair, meanwhile, was slowly backing up, giving ground to his opponent. His attacker took the bait, eagerly following the Sentinal and closing the attack. Miku was coming to Khair's aid when Lodune seemingly materialized out of the thick fog, dagger neatly slicing the throat of the propugner. Miku blinked, and Lodune was once again vanished.

"By the gods!" the prince exclaimed. Lodune stepped out of the fog again, next to Khair. "How did you do that?" the orc asked.

"Trade secret," Lodune said, smiling, "Now if you two can keep any more intruders off of me, I might yet discover the secret to this door."

Lodune reactivated his light stone, scouring the door once more for signs of hidden switches or handles. Several heartbeats passed, and the red glow of the stone failed to reveal the mechanism by which the door opened. Lodune was beginning to suspect that Khair's path finding ability had somehow failed, but any chance he had of voicing that vanished as four more of the wide eyed Propugners came out of the mist.

"Now would be an excellent time to get that door open, my friend," Khair said as he planted his feet for the upcoming battle.

Lodune grew desperate. Either Khair was wrong about this being the path they should take, or the answer was just under his nose. Thinking back on the path they'd taken, he was struck by an idea.

"Alright, boys - keep those things off me. I think I've figured out our door," Lodune said, croaching to the ground and waving the light stone about.

Khair and Miku took defensive stances, lacking time enough to ask Lodune what he had in mind. The evil propugners came at them, two of them bearing peculiar razor claw weapons in each hand, while the other two bore the now familiar twin daggers. The propugners were adorned in black vestements, seemingly unarmored. Give their speed and agility, armor would more likey slow them down than help them.

While his friends put up a frantic defense, Lodune searched the path they had traveled. Although the wizards hated to waste magic, Lodune had yet to meet one who didn't practice a bit of slight of hand in order to charm the masses. That, coupled with the fact that their door was a side entrance, likely into the kitchen as it faced the gardens, lead Lodune to believe that the mechanism for opening the door would be placed somewhere along the path leading to the door. A young acolyth with an armload of vegetables would want the door to open without having to use his hands, which meant no magic and no switch or lever at the door itself. No, Lodune thought, the crafty mages would have put the switch along the path. All he had to do was find it in the thick fog, in the dark, with four hostile guards bent on kill him and his compatriots. Simple.

The quick, repeated clash of steel on steel told him that his friends where holding their own, but likely wouldn't be able to keep up the defense for long. Confining his search to within ten feet of the door, Lodune cast about his light stone. Were it not for the eerie fog, he may well have found the switch by now. As it was, it was impossible to clearly make out things like well worn areas or recent footfalls. A cry from Miku forced his attention to the fight, which he could make out in fog shrouded silhouette. His companions were being flanked by the propugners, who didn't seem concerned at all with Lodune. Scrambling to an upright position, he drew his dagger and went to join the fray, hopefuly he'd be able to take down at least one of the attackers.

There was a soft click, barely audible above the sounds of the fight, and a soft scraping sounds. Crouching down with the light, he saw the nondescript stone which he'd accidently stepped upon. It had sunk into the ground and was slowly raising back up. A heartbeat later and he heard the door slide shut once more. He'd done it.

Ducking low and moving swiftly, he came up behind the attacker who was himself behind Miku. Miku drove his dagger into the abmonination's throat, felling him instantly.

"Come along then, lads. We've our way in," he said, dropping low with a foot sweep that stumbled on of the attackers harrassing Khair. Carefully retracing his steps to the stone switch, he set it off again, running towards the entrance. A quick glance back showed that the Sentinal and the prince were right on his heels. The orc's breastplate had been sliced through by the metal claw blades of one of his attackers. Still, the young warrior showed no signs of it affecting him. Orc warriors truly deserved their reputation, Lodune thought.

The door began to slide shut as Khair hurried through, followed closely by Miku. The surviving propugners were close on their heals, but showed no sign of going for the door's switch. Lodune noted the single mindedness of purpose, hopeful that he could turn it against them again in the future. With a final backwards glance, he squeezed through the closing doorway, coming to the other side just as the odd door slid back into place with a light click.

The room they were in was dark, but dimly visible in the wane red glow of the light stone. Sacks of grain and root vegetables were stacked neatly about, and shelves filled with sealed jars and labeled with the names of their contents surrounded them. There was no sign of the terrible fog within the keep of the Nidus Collegium itself, but the unmistakeable scent of brimstone filled the air with its stale odor, as if the whole of the keep had been permeated with its scent.

"The path leads this way," Khair said, taking up the lead position once more. The Sentinal lead them through the massive kitchen of the keep, its contents neat and orderly but seemingly unused today. The evening was still early enough that the embers of the dinner fires should still be visibable, Lodune thought, but not even the smells of a recent meal could be made out above the stench of brimstone. Even the lamps hung about the room were cold to the touch.

"Where is everyone?" Lodune asked aloud.

"Out in the town," Miku said gruffly, pacing the kitchen, "That demon Xuulkar probably sent them forth with another of his many lies."

"Agreed," said Khair thoughtfully, "and we should capitalize on that. Come, before our pursuers rejoin us." The Sentinal sprinted out of the kitchen, his sword at the ready. Lodune deactivated his light stone and drew his rapier, joining the orc in following Khair.

The Sentinal lead them through the large dinning hall, with its long wooden tables and benches. Weak light from four lanterns filled the big chamber, bathing it in shadow as much as illuminating it. Tapestries adorned the walls, each depicting a scene which Lodune could only guess at. Some showed strange, other worldly creatures speaking with men in fine robes, while others showed obvious mages fighting dragons in fierce battles. All the tapestries were ringed with embroidered, arcane symbols, and any one tapestry could easily have brought hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces of gold on the open market. Lodune lamented the fact that they hadn't the time to sneak one out. Still, there was always the chance for such an adventure later, he thought.

"Thief!" the orc shouted back at Lodune through clenched teeth, "Wwill you be joining us?"

Lodune hadn't realize that his companions had already moved on. Chagrined, he sprinted up to them. "Occupational hazard," he offered by way of apology. The prince snorted in reply, and Khair shook his head, smiling.

The three stood within a long hallway, small lanterns set every thirty feet or so by Lodune's reckoning. Soft footsteps could be heard in the distance, the sound of slippers on stone. Khair moved down the hall, away from the sound, and entered through a small archway into some kind of study or lounge. The chamber was dark, but light from the hallway revealed a number of desks like those used by scribes, and tall stools to match. Smaller tapestries adorned the walls here, with designs thematically similar to those in the dining hall. Books sat open on some of the desks, but the room was bare otherwise. A square wooden door stood within the far wall, much more mundane in appearance than the one they had struggled with in the courtyard. They crossed to this quickly, Lodune once again checking for tricks or traps.

Pronouncing it safe, Lodune opened the door. Cool air rushed out at him, heavy with the scent of brimstone, but possessing other qualities as well. Lodune smelled age, and mildew, and the faint tinge of some kind of incense.

"Time for some light. Khair, bring us a lantern, would you?" Lodune asked, peering into the inkly black of the space beyond the door.

The Sentinal stepped out of the small reading room and fetched the lone lantern hanging at that end of the hallway. This he handed to Lodune, who carefully thrust it into the shadows beyond the door. The little oil lamp showed a small landing, with an empty torch sconce, and a rather wide stone staircase that spiraled downward into further blackness. Two men could easily walk side by side town the staircase, but the three silently decided in a single file arrangement, with Lodune taking the lead with the lantern.

All three men quietly noted that the stairs appeared to receive regular use, as deep indentations worn into the stones could attest. Creeping carefully down, Lodune saw light coming from around the last bend in the stairwell. Shuttering the lantern and handing it back to Miku, Lodune gestured that he was going ahead for a quick look. Pressing himself into the shadows, he moved forward, out of sight of his companions.

The stairwell emptied directly into a large chamber, which was filled with a maze of large, open wooden shelves. The shelves were built from floor to ceiling, and contained all manner of jars, containers, chests, books, and scroll tubes. The room was softly illuminated by several unseen sources, most of which appeared to be on the far side of the room, and Lodune heard someone snoring softly from somewhere within.

Seizing the moment, he crept into the storage chamber, eyeing the many objects stashed there. Sealed glass and clay jars bore labels describing their contents, most of them herbs and similar spell components. Many he had never heard of before, and he idly wondered what the street value of such items would be.

[GOOD POINT TO PICK UP SOMETHING SEEMINGLY RANDOM THAT WOULD COME IN HANDY LATER]

The scroll tubes bore labels such as "Guilds, Contracts and Agreements", and "Medicinal Herbs of Southreach". The chests appeared to be unmarked, driving Lodune's natural curiosity. The source of the snoring was a more pressing issue, however, so Lodune kept to the shadows as well as he could as he worked his way through the chamber.

The corridor formed by the shelves brought him to the center of the chamber, where a large square table sat. Two tall candles were burning low in their holders, casting light over the hunched figure of the snoring man. Stringy, long white hair fell in wild wisps from the old fellow's thinning pate, the rest of him obscured as he lay face down upon his hands on the table. His plain brown robes were stained and threadbare, and a walking stick was leaning against the table next to him. The table itself was dominated by one of the larget books Lodune had ever set eyes upon. At least as thick as two hands, and tall as a man's forearm, it lay open before the snoring man, its contents apparently capable of inducing sleep.

Lodune quickly weighed his options. He could chance that the others could sneak past the soundly sleeping old man, it would be risky. There was no telling who the sleeping fellow was, or what his magic prowess might be. The frailest mages were so often the most powerful, or so the stories went. He could try to knock the old man unconscious as well, but the strike had to be precise. A failure would leave him open to any number of foul wizardly tricks. He pondered the situation for a moment, finally settling on his first option. Khair was a Sentinal, after all, and accustomed to moving silently, albiet through brambles and leaves. Miku, on the other hand, was an unsubtle, straight forward warrior, with little interest in stealth and guile. He would need to be carefull, but Lodune was optomistic. After all, it was as the young orc had said - their cause was a just one, so they were bound to succeeded. Even if Lodune didn't believe that at all.

Making a quick check of the rest of the chamber, Lodune spotted two exits other than the one in which he'd come. It was up to Khair to determine which they should take. Returning to the center of the room, Lodune blew out the candles on the old man's table, bathing the area in comfortable darkness. The old man continued to snore soundly, so Lodune quickly rejoined his friends.

He explained the situation to them, encouraging the prince to remain as silent as possible in his orcish armor. Placing Khair in the lead, the three snuck down the stairs and into the large chamber. Khair took a moment to look around the room as much as he could, as if looking for something. He then headed into the narrow corridor formed by the shelves, Miku and Lodune not far behind him.

[DAMN THIS IS BORING - THEY GET PAST THE OLD GUY AND THROUGH A COUPLE OF MORE ROOMS, ENDING UP IN A SMALL ROUND CHAMBER]

"This is it," Khair said, arms wide, "the path ends here."

They stood within a small, round chamber, no more than ten feet across. An ancient mosaic was fitted into the floor, the small tiles making a spiral patter with colors that had long since faded. The walls had narrow wooden shelves built onto them, and the shelves held small skulls of every imagineable kind. Lodune identified cats, rats, and dog skulls, as well as some bird species and a number of skulls he couldn't begin to identify. The shelves and skulls were covered in a thick layer of dust, long ignored by the mages of the Collegium.

"If there's a secret passage through here, I'd like to see it," Lodune said, carefully investigating the shelves for signs of switches or levers. Picking up one of the small bird heads, he inadvertently crushed it, as its paper thin bone collapsed under his touch. Lodune hastily brushed the bone dust from his fingers, eyeing the rest of the skulls with suspicion.

Miku stared around the room, particularly interested in the design on the floor. The spiralling mosaic pattern ahd been quite stunning in its day, with black, red, blue, green, and yellow tiles, each about as large as the nail on a man's finger. Looking up, he saw the same design set into the ceiling.

"Why decorate the ceiling like the floor?" he wondered aloud.

Lodune and Khair looked up at the ceiling. The pattern was indeed identical, safe for the center of the spiral. On the ceiling, there was a large yellow circle, as if representing the sun. On the floor, the circle filled with simple geometric patterns in an antique style.

"On earth as it is in heaven," Khair recited.

"Indeed," said Lodune, taking a keen interest in the ceiling's design. The ceiling was just out of reach, so he asked Miku for his axe. The young orc warrior was hesitant to give it up, but Lodune agreed to return it in a timely fashion. Holding the axe upside down, Lodune poked at the ceiling with the butt end of the weapon's handle. Three tries later and he succeeded in planting a solid press into the center of the yellow circle. With a click the switch sank upwards. Nothing happened for several heartbeats, but then the room shook slightly, and with a loud grinding sound stairs appeared in the floor of the chamber. All three men jumped back out of the room as stairs formed, leading still deeper beneath the Nidus Collegium.

Lodune handed the axe back to Miku and said, "I would never have guessed the wizards to be so subterranean. I suppose it explains a lot about their general demeanor and hygiene."

Khair simply whistled in astonishment at the ancient secret stairwell that had opened before them. Miku stared into the darkness dubiously, and said "So Theake is down there? It doesn't look like anyone has been through here in generations. How is it that we will find Theake this way?"

Khair shrugged, more nonchalantly than he'd meant to, and said, "The gifts of K'sai are straight forward and simple. I'm sure the meaning of all of this will become clear. Have faith, lord orc."

The three reentered the room, cautiously moving down the steps. Lodune took the lantern and the lead, mindful of ancient traps. The brimstone smell that they had grown so accustomed to was stronger here, and palpable waves of dread seemed to be working their way up the newly revealed stairwell. He motioned for his friends to stop behind him, then strained his hearing. In the distance came the sound of many voices chanting, very faintly, but with an unmistakeable edge of malevolence. Leaning backwards, he whispered to the others, "I believe we've found Xuulkar. Chanting ahead. Be prepared for anything."

With that they continued on down the stairwell. Lodune abandoned the lantern on the stairs, shuttering it tightly. Activating his light stone, he continued on down the stairs, the subtle red glow of the stone less likely to give them away accidently. They reached the bottom of the stairs in two more revolutions, and were confronted with a stone wall. Beyond the wall came the unmistakeable sound of chanting, low and steady and evil. Everyone readied their weapons as Lodune searched and quickly found the lever that would open the secret door in front of them. The lever was of the classic style, built into the final torch sconce at the bottom of the stairs.

Signaling that he was going to count down from five, Lodune readied his rapier and ticked off fingers. On five he pulled the lever, which swung the wall in front of them outwards and into a small, well lit chamber of rough hewn stone. Four of the foul propugners were standing watch outside an ornate set of double doors to the left of the stairwell Lodune and the rest had just come down. Directly to the right was a large opening with rough stone steps leading up. Wielding the surprise, the three heroes lept into the room, weapons flashing in the lantern light of the room.

The unwholesome, lidless wide eyes of the dark propugners bore neither surprise nor fear, only steady maliciousness as the three heroes burst into the ancient, rough chamber. The ornate doors to the left were made of copper and bronze, set with brass and what appeared to be chips of ruby. Lodune took quick stock of the doors, worried that they may be protected magically. The room was also too small to wield long blades, putting Lodune, Khair, and Miku at a loss as they hastily put away their blades. Khair and Lodune drew short blades, while Miku simply tossed his axe in a far corner, intent on pummeling his foes sensless with his massive gauntlets.

"So much for surprise, lads," Khair said as he readed his khanjar, a curved bladed knife common to the desert lands. The propugners were each armed with common daggers, akin to the short blades Lodune himself carried. The propugners were dressed in cured black leather with shaved heads. Evil looking designs had been etched into their bald pates, giving the malformed guards a cruel appearance.

The propugners were the first to attack, silently launching into the intruders. The size of the room allowed only three of the four propugners to attack at once, keeping the fourth stuck by the ornate double doors. Chanting from beyond the doors was loud, and a sound like violent wind in a chasm ominiously echoed through the chamber. The orc prince was the first to down an opponent, who fell to the floor in an uncounscious heap at the severe pummeling the prince had delivered. The propugners seemed ill prepared for the onslaught of an orcish pugilist in full armor. Khair was the next to down a propugner, but not before receiving a nasty cut along his chest.

Lodune was still trading lethal blows with his opponent when he realized that the fourth propugner had succeeded in casting a spell. By the Makers, he cursed. Not all propugners had been completely ungifted in the magical arts, and those few who could wield small magics were trained to hone that skill for use in battle. The fourth propugner was now bathed in a soft blue aura of protection, his dagger crackling with malevolent magical power.

An assist from Miku soon brought Lodune's oppoenent down, while Khair launched into an attack on the remaining propugner. The floor of the chamber had become slick with blood, and footing was becoming haszardous as Khair stepped over bodies while trying to fend off the magic imbued onslaught of the final guard. The final propugner was strong, and sparks lept from the blade of his khanjar as the magically enhanced dagger struck his blade. The vile guard delivered another lethal blow, knocking Khair backwards as he succeeded in blocking the attack. Khair lost his footing in the bloody muck covering the floor of the chamber, falling backwards and landing uncomfortably upon the body of a dead guard. His attacker's blade struck home, driving a deep gash into the Sentinal's upper arm. Electricity crackled and arced as the magic of the blade was released into the wound, causing Khair to cry out in pain and frustration.

A heartbeat later and Miku and Lodune were upon Khair's opponent, Lodune's weapon worrying at the guard but ineffective given the propugner's protective magical aura. Miku's attack proved more successful, the magical protection apparently designed to prevent blades from penetrating the flesh. Solid blows from a guantleted fist were highly effective, and soon the propugner was knocked senseless, falling to the disgusting muck of the floor in a drooling heap.

Lodune and Miku helped Khair to his feet. The Sentinal waved off Lodune's worried looks at the nasty wound in his arm, which showed charring around the edges where the electrical shock had burnt his soft leather shirt as well as his flesh. Miku, meanwhile, was staring at the great double doors, intently listening to the chanting beyond.

"Don't touch the doors!" Lodune shouted quickly, looking up from the makeshift bandage he was preparing from the right sleeve of his tunic. He hurriedly tied the cloth around the Sentinal's wound, stemming the bleeding for the moment. Khair tested the arm and quickly stopped.

"Well, I'm out a sword arm," Khair said resignedly. "You two will have to fight whatever's on the other side of those doors."

"I will personally slay anyone I find on the other side of these doors," Miku said hotly, "And that is if Theake is alive and unharmed."

"About the doors," Khair said, eager to lighten the mood, "Just what do you think their secret is, Lodune?"

The rogue eyed the doors carefully. He flicked a pebble from the floor at the door, the small rock bounced harmlessly off the burnished copper. Lodune scratched his chin thoughtfully.

[IN THE PRECEDING FIGHT, A PROPUGNER WOULD HAVE BEEN PUSHED AGAINST THE DOORS, EVABORATING IN AN INSTANT]

"Either the gods are fickle and the doors can only be safely opened from the other side, or there's a command we must utter from this side in order to safely open them," Lodune said. Looking at the bodies on the ground, he pointed towards the first guard that Miku had knocked senseless.

"That guard, there. Perhaps we can get him to tell us something," Lodune said. He doubted it would work - the ritualize mutilation and scarification the guard had undertaken had likely left him immune to pain and similiar tortures. Still, it was worth trying.

Without any prompting, Miku knelt down next to the fallen propugner, lefting him to a sitting position.

"Wake up, small man," the orc prince said through clenched teeth, "wake up and tell us your secrets." The guard remained unconscious. Miku was about to backhand him with a gauntleted hand when the Sentinal stopped him.

"There are other ways of reviving someone," Khair said. He reached into a pouch at his belt and removed a small bundle of cloth. Kneeling beside Miku and the unconscious guard, the Sentinal waved the small bundle under the unconscious man's nose. Coughing and choking, the bruised and battered guard awoke, one lidless eye so swollen as to appear closed. Khair smiled as he returned the bundle to his pouch, satisfied.

Miku stared into the confused eyes of the guard. The dark propugner seemed to understand his predicament, moving feebly as if to crawl away.

"No no no, none of that, small man," the orc said, jutting his lower canines out in a purposeful show of animalism. "We want answers, little one. You will give them to us, or you will suffer in ways more horrible than your pathetic god can imagine."

"Ogg-Met has set me free!" hissed the thin voice of the guard through swollen lips, "Your task is hopeless."

Miku smiled in a way that sent chills down the backs of Lodune and Khair. Although orcs were a highly advanced and civilized race, their ancient reputation for barbarism and cruelty still haunted the modern world. The crafty prince was obviously hoping that this reputation would aid him in interrogating the guard, but Lodune feared just how far the young orc would have to go in order to prove his sincerity.

"Ah, so it's to be the difficult route. Very well then, villian, prepare to taste the interrogation techniques of the orcs," the prince said, drawing a slender poignard from his belt. Removing the low boot from the guard's left foot, he ran the blade of his knife across the toes. The guard stared at his foot, his unwholesome, unblinking wide eyes devoid of emotion.

"This is what's going to happen, you hideous piece of wyrm crap," Miku said slowly, his voice thick with hatred, "I'm going to slowly cut off parts of your body, starting at your toes. I will then feed you these pieces until you answer my questions. Each refusal to answer, as well as each false answer, will result in you being forced to eat more of yourself. I will only stop when I have the answers I need."

The guard laughed, feeble and evil, and said, "I serve Ogg-Met. By my own hand have I driven pain and fear from my flesh, that I might know Ogg-Met. Your pathetic threats are the bluff of the weak." The guard tried to spit at Miku then, managing only to droo upon himself.

Miku smiled again, something Lodune wished he'd stop doing. Leaning in close to the guard, the orc said, "Very well, then. I shall skip your feet and begin directly with your balls. How many slices will you consume before you tell me what I want to know, I wonder?"

Lodune winced at the threat, and he thought he saw something similar on the mutilated guard's face. Beads of sweat had appeared on the propugner's head, betraying his boasts of fearlessness. Miku was running the point of the dagger over the guard's crotch, simultaneously staring down the wide-eyed monstrosity.

"Now tell me," Miku said, "How do we open these doors? Tell me, and be quick about it." As he asked the question, he began cutting open the leather breeches of the propugner, his eyes all the while fixed on the guard's.

When the guard failed to answer immediatly, the orc pulled on the guard's scrotum, sliding his poignard across it. The propugner stifled a scream, a weird sound of fear and shock. "Today I send you to your demon god," Miku said, "It is your choice if you go with your balls in your mouth or not."

The threat broke the propugner, who made a sickening gurgling sound of defeat. "Speak the name of the lord's palace! Abaaniel! Abaaniel!" croaked the wretch.

Miku stood, easily lifting the weakened guard with him. Half dragging the evil propugner to the elaborate doors, he said, "Show me."

The guard swayed on his uneasy feet as Miku stepped aside. The guard paused, unsure of what to do. Lodune, always uncomfortable with torture, had turned his focus on Khair's wound.

The guard still hadn't tried to open the door, causing Miku to shout, "I said show me!" as he kicked the hapless guard into the doors.

Lodune and Khair watched in disbelief as the guard fell into the door, expecting to see the same horrible disintegration they had witnessed earlier. This time, however, the guard shouted "Abaaniel!" as he fell against the doors. There was a brief flicker of magic across the face of the doors, and then nothing. The guard pulled on the brass handles of the doors, which creaked as they began to open heavily. Miku stopped him, slamming a fist into the wretch's temple and once again knocking him unconscious. The young orc then fell to his knees, wretching.

Khair knelt down beside the prince, placing his left arm around his shoulders and saying nothing. Lodune, meanwhile, investigated the doors, gingerly testing the handles. He failed to disintegrate, which brought a smile to his face. He was about to speak, but the look Khair gave him told him that now was certainly not the time. Miku's head hung low, and heavy tears dropped from his eyes. The young prince had been prepared to do unspeakeable things in order to save his beloved, and the experience had left him looking older than he actually was.

With the doors safe, Lodune pressed an ear against them, hoping to make out details awaiting them on the other side. He heard the chanting very loudly, performed in perfect unison and masking the number of chanters present. The roar of a mighty wind did little to mute the chanting voices. Indeed, Lodune could swear the howl of the wind was somehow amplifying the voices. Lodune turned his attention to the chips of ruby embedded in the great doors when Miku stepped up beside him, grim determination etched into his features.

"Let's get Theake," he said as he pulled open the doors.

Miku retreived his axe from the corner of the room while Lodune and Khair talked strategy. Khair was in no state to fight, so it was decided that he would stay behind and guard the exit. Lodune and Miku would pass into the next chamber and deal with whatever they found.

As Lodune grabbed the brass handles of the doors, a terrible rumbling began beneath the Nidus Collegium. "Now what?" Lodune shouted as the three steadied themselves, the rumbling dying away.

Khair shut his eyes in concentration for a moment, then opened them, saying, "We're running out of time. The stars are almost aligned. Hurry."

Without waiting, Lodune pulled open the heavy metal doors, a gust of hot, moist, foul wind greeting him. The space beyond the doors was a long hallway, which opened into a chamber that seemed to be filled with flashing, glowing light. With the doors open, the howling of the wind and the evil chanting grew more powerful, sending chilling waves down the spines of the heroes. Drawing his rapier, Lodune and Miku ran down the hall.

The hallway opened onto a narrow ledge which overlooked a circular chamber. The ledge was at least two men off the floor, and ended in stairs leading down on either side. The chamber itself was swirling in magic, as the source of the chanting and the wind became clear. Thirteen curved, metallic tiles had been set on the floor, forming a large circle. In front of each tile stood a robed figure, arms outstretched, faces hidden by deep hoods. One of the tiles appeared to be somewhat larger than the others, with an odd marking etched into it. The wizard standing behind this tile wore an elaborate red robes stitched in gold and silver, with a white porcelain mask covering his hooded face. From within the circle formed by the tiles rose a swirly mass of magical energy, flashing blue and red and green in a contained cyclone that sounded so much like a hurricane but failed to actually produce wind. Kneeling at the foot of the head wizard was a young man, bound and gagged, twisting helplessly against his bonds. The masked wizard was pulling back the young man's head by the hair, a knife pressed hard against hist throat.

Lodune quickly grabbed Miku's arm before the prince could leap in to the fight. The young orc tensed angrily, but allowed himself to be held back.

"We must take out the wizards, first. And beware the magical circle - we've no idea of its power or purpose. If you wish to save Theake, remember to move cautiously," Lodune said, adding, "Don't worry. We'll have him safe soon."

Miku grunted in acceptance. Lodune motioned for the prince to take the right staircase down, while he would take the left, hopefully flanking the wizards and getting them disorganized before they could mount a magical offensive against them. The two were parting when all chanting in the chamber ceased. Lodune and Miku froze, staring into the pit. The great magical cyclone still spun wildly about, seeming to focus over the bound man's heart. The wizard to the right of the masked figure rose his arms high, the falling sleaves revealing scarred markings in the bare flesh of the arms, akin to the markings on the propugners' heads. The wizard shouted a single word in an arcane tongue, stepping onto the metallic tile in front of him. With a loud zap the wizard was gone, consumed by the magic of the tile. The roar of the cyclone increased, and a dark ball of non light formed within the swirling magical maelstrom. The earth once again shook, and the next wizard raised his arms, shouting another piece of ancient magical language before being consumed by the magic circle. A second orb of anti-light formed within the cyclone, giving Lodune an uneasy feeling. Whatever was happening, they had to stop it.

Lodune gave the signal to attack to Miku, and the two crept silently down the stairs. The howling sound easily masked the subtle noise of the orc's armor, and the two were soon on the floor of the pit. A third wizard was consumed, then a fourth, adding to the noise and size of the cyclone. The orbs of anti-light swirled around one another in the center of the magical energy as a fifth wizard was consumed by the magic. The earth once again shook, with greater force this time, and Lodune feared for his continued safety so far under the surface. Curiously, there were no signs of an actual quaking of the earth, as pepples and dust staid still during the episode. Further effects of whatever magic is brewing, he thought anxiously. The earth doesn't shake, but we do.

Lodune and Miku shared worried glances with one another as one by one the wizards sped up their ritual, each wizard becoming absorbed in turn. Lodune was at a loss as to how best to rescue Theake, given the tight hold the head wizard had on him. He could almost feel Miku's frustration, and hoped the orc could hold his anger in check just a few moments more.

Eight of the twelve lesser wizards had been consumed, their spirits seemingly converted to globes of anti-light within the eldritch storm. Lodune was placing his hopes in the wizard priest performing some sort of needlessly showy gesture before sacrificing the ambassador's son, for it would be his sole chance of getting the wizard without harming the boy. Lodune watched as the ninth wizard was consumed, his anti-light joining the rest. Lodune stared into the depths of the magical storm, then recoiled instictively. By some trick of the magic, Lodune could see...diseases...within the hideous storm. Sensing them as much as seeing them, Lodune watched in revulsion as black tendrils of sickness sprouted from the globes of anti-light, entangling themselves in one another in an unwholesome manner. Every sickness, every disease, every plague he had ever seen or heard tell of was twirling about within the terrible cyclone of evil which the wizards were conjuring. Images of pestilence and suffering flashed impossibly through the swirling mass of magic, leaving Lodune feeling weak and doomed.

Forcing himself to look away, he turned to see how Miku was fairing. The orc prince was no longer at the base of the stairs across from Lodune. The young orc had moved slowly along the pit's edge, creeping closer to the masked wizard, his axe readied. The fool, Lodune spat quietly. Lodune readied his rapier when another round of rumbling struck, knocking Miku and his axe over in a loud clang of metal against stone, audible even above the noise of the swirling magical energy. The sound drew the attention of the masked wizard, who pointed his knife hand at Miku and uttered something loud but unintelligible over the din in the room.

Miku roared in anger and pain as he was engulfed in magical red flames. The orc writhed as if he'd been set alight, although his flesh, hair, and clothing showed no signs of burning. Lodune took the opportunity to strike at one of the remaining lesser wizards, having crept up behind the happless mage. With a great thrust he had his rapier through the mage's back, the point coming through the front of the man's chest. The tenth mage looked down at his chest in confusion, unsure of what had happened. Lodune kicked him off of his blade, sending the mage into the circle created by the tiles. The dead body twisted and stretched impossibly as it was engulfed into the swirling magic. A groaning sound became immediately apparent in the wailing of the magic, and the black mass of the joined anti-light filled the center of the storm, no longer moving.

The death of the tenth mage drew the masked wizard's attention to Lodune, who noticed that the magical flames engulfing Miku had extinguished themselves. The young orc hastily stood, swaying uneasily on his feet, but with a look of determination on his face so grim that Lodune feared for the prince's sanity. Still, the orc's axe was likely the best offense against the masked wizard, and Lodune was determined to hold the mage's attention while the orc warrior moved in for the kill.

"Hey, wizard!" Lodune shouted at the masked mage, "What happens when I do this?" Lodune shoved the eleventh mage into the magic circle, recoiling instinctively from the hideous scream of pain as the mage was consumed by the magic, twisting and stretching into the maelstrom like milk swirling into water. A terrible rumble shook the room, this time moving earth and flesh alike. Dust falling from the walls and ceilings caught the light of the magical storm, causing the whole chamber to glow with the sickly, eerie light.

As the room shook, the twelfth and final lesser wizard spoke his word and stepped on his tile, evaporating in a magical flash, his orb of anti-light blending into the large, impossibly black mass within the storm. Twelve of the thirteen tiles glowed white and hot, casting the room into stark relief. The magical storm swirled and expanded into a huge column of light with the inky blackness in the center, as wide as the circle of tiles. Just as soon as it had swollen, the magic fell in on itself, falling to the floor. The rough stone floor that had been inside the circle of tiles was replaced by a large, black void that was featureless save for the sense of impossible depth it contained. Flashes of colored lightning played across the surface of the void. The masked wizard let out a booming laugh.

"Fools! You thought yourselves capable of stopping me?" the mage said, knife pressed once more firmly against the young man's throat. Miku held his place, unwilling to chance bringing harm to Theake.

"No orc warrior or petty human rogue could ever hope to defeat a Magus of the Nidus Collegium, you simpering, misguided fools," the mage ranted behind his simple white mask. "However, now that I wield the power of Ogg-Met, there are none in heaven or on earth who can hope to defeat me. I am power!"

In response to the wizard's boast, a great sound as of a thousand screaming voices rose up from the impossible blackness of the magic circle. In disbelief, Lodune watched as tendrils of blackness rose and fell from the surface of the circle, like momentary rips in the fabric of reality. The Magus threw back his head in a haughty laugh, just as Miku sank the blade of his axe into the wizard's back.

A thunderous crack echoed through the underground chamber as the prince's axe flew apart in shards. Whipping around to face Miku, the wizard dragged Theake around with him, pulling harshly on his hair, the knife at the young man's throat drawing blood.

"Oh, true love," mocked the Magus, "Did you think it would save your beloved, young orc? Such pedestrian sentimentality. No wonder your kind remains hidden in their mountain caves rather than sweeping across the face of the earth in glorious conquest. If you must be sentimental, know this - young Theake shall be the vessel needed for Ogg-Met to enter our world. It is the love that you two share that Ogg-Met shall twist, as a key in a lock, allowing him to once again walk upon the earth."

"Never!" Miku shouted, flinging himself at the Magus. The warrior landed a single blow across the chin of the mad wizard, knocking off the porcelain mask, before being flung backwards with a simple wave of the wizard's knife wielding right hand.

"Good, good. I shall consume your devotion and fuel the return of Ogg-Met. I offer you a token of the god's favor in return for your part in this grand design." At that, Xuulkar gestured once more toward the fallen orc. Miku screamed in agony as his skin erupted in vicious, oozing black boils. Puss and blood flowed from the sudden wounds, and the young prince writhed in unimagineable pain upon the cold stone floor. Lodune watched, helpless, as the black void within the magic circle bubbled, tendrils of blackness shooting up and falling down again in sickly, slow motion. Staring into the black void, Lodune thought he could see something. It was as if something was working its way quickly toward them, rising up from the inky depths of the magic portal. The Magus saw it as well, for he turned his attention away from Miku and focused once more upon the magic circle.

"Ogg-Met comes!" screached the Magus, yanking Theake's head back violently, preparing the young man's throat for the final cut. Miku was silent, lying on the floor in a pool of vile expulsion from whatever diseases the Magus had inflicted upon him.

The chamber began to shake anew as the mishapen figure rising from the void grew nearer. Lodune could see more of the thing now, starting with the large, narrow head with a grinning maw full of sharp teeth dripping with green unwholesomeness. The eyes were enormormous, orange and black with pupils like a cats, with a reptilian fin running down the middle of the thing's head. Its skin was covered with puss filled boils, several of which oozed sickeningly over the pasty white flesh that was further mottled with black sores of disease. The demon god rose through the void almost gracefully, but at an alarming pace.

"Arise! Arise, Ogg-Met! Arise, O Diseased One! O great inevitability! Arise, and let the earth and heavens once more tremble at your might!" Xuulkar boomed.

Lodune was transfixed with fear as one of the huge, clawed hands of the demon god rose up from within the magical portal. As long and wide as a man, each finger ended in a filthy, pointed talon. The demon's hands gripped the sides of the magic circle, its spindly, skeletal arms hoisting the great bulk of the beast up out of its ancient plane of imprisonment to once again peer into the sane world of men. The god hung there, monsterous hands gripping the side of the circle, it's oversized head just barely poking through the portal. A reak as of a thousand diseased deaths filled the chamber, so thick as to make Lodune's eyes sting. The god's vile, toothy maw faced the Magus, the huge teeth giving the demon the look of a smile.

"WHO...SUMMONS...OGG-MET?" boomed the putrid voice of the elder god. The god's huge, unblinking eyes regarded the wizard carefully.

"O Great Ogg-Met!" said the Magus, "Know that it is I, Xuulkar! Basilisk Magus of the First Order of the Nidus Collegium, who does release you from your ancient confinement. It is I who have reconstructed the Portal of Shen from the tiles of Ahmek-Tiel! It is I who shall be your instrument upon your ascension to your earthly throne!"

Sickly fumes blew out the twin slits that made up the demon's nose, forming a foul cloud around the wizard and Theake. The cloud quickly dissipated, and Lodune realized that Theake had passed out. Lodune himself was wishing he could conveniently lose consciousness, but the booming voice of the god quelled any such hopes.

"HAVE YOU THE KEY?" it asked of the wizard. The grotesque mass of blackened, diseased flesh that was the demon's tongue oozed out of its mouth, licking its thin, cancerous lips in expectation.

"Yes, great Ogg-Met!" replied Xuulkar, straining to keep the unconscious body of the ambassador's son upright. "I offer you the purity of his heart, that you may drink deep and reclaim the world!"

The horrible diety opened it's maw, like a portal to the netherworld itself, huge sharp teeth dripping diseased green bile. Lodune was unable to move, transfixed by the otherworldly terror of the scene. Time seemed to slow dramatically as the Magus brought the knife down toward Theake's throat, when a quick motion caught Lodune's eye. Leaping from the ledge surrounding the pit came Khair, his long sword clutched tightly in both hands, point downward. With a fearsome battle cry which might have shamed an orc, the Sentinal landed upon the head of the demon god, driving his blade between the eyes of the great monstrosity. The Magus froze and let out an inhuman scream of anger, letting go of Theake and launching into a magical assault on Khair.

Without further thought, Lodune sprang to Theake's unconscious body. Scooping up the unwieldy form of the young man, Lodune placed him near the now unconscious body of Miku, who had succumbed at last to the vile plagues Xuulkar had cast upon him. Turning, he watched in horror as Khair lost hold of his sword, flying backward at the force of the wizard's lightning attack. Ogg-Met let out a sound that was like a thousand screaming souls, one of its massive clawed hands scratching clumsily at the Sentinal's sword buried deep between its eyes. It succeeded in pulling the blade out, but not before leaving deep, puss filled gashes in its flesh by its own hand.

Xuulkar fixed his attention on Lodune, his face a twisted mask of rage. Lodune thought he also saw signs of fear in the Magus' eyes, as the wizard brought a mighty spell to bear against the rogue. Red bolts of power arced from the mage's fingers as he unleased a torrent of raw, wracking pain upon Lodune, dropping the rogued to his knees. Lodune clenched his teeth, refusing to grant the mad wizard the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Lodune was soon on all fours as the sinews in his body contorted and twisted, the wizard's magic trying to fling muscle from bone. Through squinting eyes Lodune saw Khair, hanging dangerously to the edge of the magic portal, his good left hand preventing him from falling into the inky blackness of the void which had spawned the demon.

"Now, Lord Ogg-Met!" shouted Xuulkar above the noises of the demon and the spell casting, "Destroy our enemies that you might receive the Key!"

The wizard's attention was focused fully on Lodune, so he failed to see the look of malice the demon god fixed upon him.

"YOU...DARE...COMMAND...ME?" the loathsome horror boomed. "YOU DARE WITHHOLD THE KEY?" The mage's spell on Lodune ended abruptly as Xuulkar turned to face the demon. The wizard had gone white, stark terror clearly evident upon his feature.

"N..n..no, great Ogg-Met! I just wanted...needed...time to prepare the boy..." the Magus squeaked feebly before being cut off.

"TIME? WHAT IS THIS...TIME...OF WHICH YOU SPEAK? I AM OGG-MET, THE INEVITABLE. TIME IS MEANINGLESS."

While the demon spoke, Lodune weakly crawled to where Khair hung to the side of the portal, the Sentinal's knuckles white. Lodune called upon whatever strength he could yet muster and hoisted his friend from the edge of the bottomless pit, and both men collapsed together for several heartbeats, glad to be alive. Without wasting another moment, both men hurried to the aid of the fallen lovers as the demon continued to speak to Xuulkar.

"I AM OGG-MET. YOU HAVE FAILED TO DELIVER THE KEY, YET YOUR FATE SHALL BE UNCHANGED. COME, MORTAL, AND EMBRACE YOUR MASTER."

Lodune and Khair watched as Xuulkar relaxed, a look of calm on his face as he stepped forward, arms outstretched. Pressing himself against the putrid flesh of the demon god, the wizard's own skin erupted into a myriad of boils and welts and sores. His body twisted unnaturally beneath his rich robes, and his hair quickly fell from his disease riddled head. Lodune grimiced in disgust as the Magus, still smiling, was sucked into the demonic monstrosity's maw by its filthy black tongue. Seizing upon an idea, the rogue flung himself to the side of the magical circle of tiles, dagger drawn.

Ogg-Met consumed the remains of Xuulkar with loud, moist, crunching sounds, then turned to face Lodune and Khair.

"YOUR FATES REMAIN SEALED, FOOLS," the demon said to them, "I AM OGG-MET, THE DISEASED, THE INEVITABLE, AND YOU ARE POWERLESS TO DEFEAT..."

The evil god stopped, the pupils of its eyes widening in what Lodune assumed passed as surprise amongst the demonic set. Lodune had worked his dagger beneath one of the tiles, succeeding in loosening it from whatever magical contrivance held it to the floor, and the demon knew what was about to happen.

"Please, continue, your demoness," Lodune said, "Don't let me stop you." With that, the rogue pried the tile from the floor and the other tiles, flicking it into the black chasm of the magic portal.

The room tilted violently, throwing Lodune and the others to one side of the room. The portal convulsed, its circular shape twisting and writhing impossibly. Ogg-Met let loose a deafening sound that filled Lodune and Khair's minds with images of sickness and pain, and the two clutched their hands to their ears as best they could as the room once again tilted drastically. The infernal monstrosity began to bend and twist along with the portal, and Lodune would later swear that he saw the very insides of the beast as space twisted and warped. Magic began to shoot out of the blackness, zipping around the chamber chaotically until dissipating harmlessly against the walls. With a final violent rumbling of the earth, Ogg-Met lost his grip on the bubbling, rippling side of the portal, falling back down into the unimaginable blackness from whence he'd come as the magical rift fell in on itself. In an instant, the magical portal was gone, and all signs of Ogg-Met and Xuulkar along with it.

"World saved," Lodune said with a heavy sigh, "Now about the boys...."

He stood shakily, every fiber in his body aching, a dry, coppery taste in his mouth. Magic, he thought in disgust. Can't trust the stuff. He walked rather slowly to where Khair sat. The Sentinal had succeeded in reviving the ambassador's son, who looked shocked and confused. The young man sat with his back against the wall, as Khair saw to the orc prince's wounds.

"How's the bravest orc?" Khair asked. To Lodune's surprise, the diseased wounds which the mage had inflicted upon him were vanished, leaving the warrior covered in a drying crust of puss and blood. Khair was carefully removing the young nobleman's expensive plates of armor, revealing the bleeding wounds on his chest which he'd received in the courtyard of the Nidus Collegium, as well as numerous minor wounds. With slow, methodic skill the Sentinal dressed the orc's wounds, using ripped portions of tunic which Theake' eagerly donated. Khair and Theake carefully removed the orc's padded silk under armor, revealing the twin of the armband which Lodune still carried.

"Oh, right," Lodune said as he fished out the armband from its protected pocket under his tunic, "Master Theake , I come bearing a gift from you trusted manservant, Ingen. He bade me deliver this to you, without fail."

With that, Lodune handed the green silken pouch to the ambassador's son. Theake opened it slowly, revealing the Pledge Band inside. The young man smiled, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"You have done well by my manservant, sir, and by me as well. I do not know you, yet I owe you my life," said the young man, "I can think of nothing to repay you, so please, state your price."

Lodune waved off the offer. "I was merely repaying a debt to a dear friend, young master. Ingen thinks quite highly of you. Do right by him, and do right by that Pledge Band, and I shall feel rewarded enough."

Lodune gave a slight courtly bow, immediately wishing he hadn't. Choosing to sit rather than attempt to stand upright again, the rogue squatted next to Khair, who was still tending to the fallen orc.

"I believe he's about to come around," the Sentinal said, chewing a mouth full of herbs into a poultice.

Theake had slipped the armband over his right wrist. The band was sized to fit the massive bicep of an orc warrior, and was much too large for a diplomat's son to wear. He leaned closer to the orc as Khair applied the herbs to some particularly nasty open wounds, rousing the orc to semi-consciousness.

With half-opened eyes, Miku said weakly, "Theake?"

The young man bent over the prone orc, smiling warmly and weaping openly. "I'm here, Miku, and I'm all right."

The orc managed a slight smile as Theake planted a kiss on his swollen lips, then fell unconscious once more. Theake shot a look of dread at Khair, but the Sentinal assured him that Miku would be alright. "He's lost an impressive amount of blood," Khair said, "but I'm quite sure he'll pull through okay. Orc warriors are resilient. We simply need to get him out of here...." Khair trailed off, staring at Lodune.

"What? Me?" Lodune said, mock surprise in his voice. "Did I not just save everyone here in this room? Nay, the entire world?" Khair gave him a blank look.

"Alright, alright. Just don't expect me to do anything tomorrow," Lodune said as he got up and headed out of the chamber.

Khair picked up a small pebble and threw it at Lodune, striking him squarely in the behind. "And be quick about it!" the Sentinal shouted after him before falling into a fit of laughter.

A week had passed since Lodune and the rest had succeeded in saving the world. He sat at a table in the Bloated Boar, drinking one of Old Man Hollings' fine ales and going over recent events while waiting for Khair. It had started with thwarting the mad plans of Xuulkar, Basilisk Magus of the Nidus Collegium. Xuulkar's compatriots had suffered grievously upon the re-banishment of their monsterous diety. The few remaining wizards who had fallen under his influence had been stricken with incureable diseases, easily setting them apart from the other wizards of the Nidus Collegium. The last such wizard had expired from complications due to the illness three days before. The handful of remaining dark propugners had suffered terrible pain and disease as well, as the influence of Ogg-Met no longer shielded them from their self inflicted wounds.

A cessation of hostilities was immediately enacted upon word that Theake Karkere had been found. Both Theake and Miku had spent several days convincing their people that they had been duped, and the leaders of both sides begrudgingly called off the battle. The people of Helstaad returned to their homes and their routines, and the town was soon free of any sign of the rampaging noughouans and the short lived war between the two nations.

The Exarch of the Nidus Collegium had personally sought out Lodune and Khair to thank them for their efforts. The Exarch appeared to be the only nobleman they spoke to who fully grasped the true stakes of the recent turmoil. Both Lodune and Khair had saved the world from a terrible fate. As such, both men were granted the right to enter the Nidus Collegium whenever they liked, under the condition that nothing from within the school be removed without permission. The school, meanwhile, returned to its regular routine of rituals designed to protect the small town, and rumors flew about new rules governing the behavior of Magi.

The body of Osporro Karkere was discovered shortly after the armistice, in a dark ally near the waterfront. The ambassador's body had been horribly gnawed upon by the enraged noughouans. Word spread of the disgrace his father had brought upon the Karkere family and the kingdom of Valemark, and it was widely rumored that Theake would be banished from the kingdom. The king of Heglak Weap intervened, however, personally requesting that Theake be made the new Valemark ambassador to his kingdom. Valemark agreed to the arrangement, though some claimed it was due in part to lucrative trade deals promised by the orc king.

Miku had healed rapidly under the careful ministrations of the orc healers stationed with the encamped army. Within five days time the orc prince had regained enough strength to take part in some of the less taxing games the orc soldiers played while awaiting orders. He even managed to take first place in an orcish wrestling competition the day before, dedicating the win to his beloved Theake. Lodune was able to watch the match, and was quite impressed, not only by the orc's recovery and drive, but his unerring devotion to the one he loved. It had left the hardened rogue feeling somewhat sentimental and uncomfortable, but he was extremely happy for the two young men.

Lodune took another sip of ale, enjoying the rowdy crowd that had gathered in the tavern. Stories flew regarding the recent excitement, with everyone having their own take on matters. Each story had elements of the truth to it, but ultimately missed the mark. Yes, a great evil had been roused, but it wasn't an ancient sea demon come to stir up the noughouans and punish the land dwellers. Yes, Theake Karkere had been found, but it wasn't because the orcs had released him. And yes, a Sentinal had helped to save them all from certain doom, but he had help. Lodune chuckled to himself as he continued to eavesdrop, flagging Rosa for another pint. A tap at his shoulder brought him around, groaning as he turned. No young orc was he, and the damage he sustained over the last two weeks had left its toll.

"Greetings, stranger. Mind if I join you?" asked Khair. The Sentinal wore a simple, sleeveless buckskin jerkin, his strong right bicep mending from the deep wound he'd suffered. His hair had been cut unusually short in order to remove all that had been burnt by Xuulkar's lightning attack, revealing tattoos that Lodune had never seen before. Tight buckskin pants attractively revealed the Sentinal's baser assets, causing Lodune to smile broadly.

"I'd prefer if you just stood there, actually," he said as Rosa delivered his next round, "the view is fantastic. I like what you're doing with your hair. Someday you'll have to tell me what those tattoos are all about."

Khair smiled, his brown eyes sparkling in the glow of the afternoon sun coming through the open windows of the tavern. "You are a very simple, very easy man to please, Lodune Vald." The Sentinal pulled up a chair and sat down next to Lodune, both of them idly watching the crowd. The residents of Helstaad had weathered the recent events well, with almost no loss of civilian life. The wizards of the Nidus Collegium had done an excellent job of ensuring the protection of the townsfolk.

"So," said Khair, breaking the brief but significant silence, "I hear the boys are coming along well. Theake is to be made ambassador to Heglak Weap. Quite the coup. Tell me, did you ever get around to introducing yourself to the poor lad?"

"Aye, that I did," Lodune said, taking a long pull from his ale, "it took a couple of days, but I eventually got around to it. I liked building up the suspense a bit. I doubt he'll be forgetting me any time soon."

"If only any of us could," Khair joked. "So, what are your plans? Is it back to the eastern kingdoms for you, or will you be sticking around Helstaad for awhile?"

Lodune paused, taking another sip from his tankard. He was feeling unusually uncomfortable, not quite in the mood for company but unwilling to be alone.

"Well," he said, "Ambassador Theake has sent word to Ingen that he is to come to Helstaad with a number of the Ambassador's things from home. I've been invited to travel back to Valemark with Ingen afterwards. I suspect I may do that, barring the presence of ancient evil gods and their minions. You should come with us. You never get out to the eastern kingdoms, and I think we could both use the vacation."

Khair stared purposefully into Lodune's eyes, locking them. The rogue was in an unfamiliar state of mind, and his eyes told of self doubt and saddness.

"I'm afraid I can't," Khair said, "The Wouan festival of Renewed Life begins in seven days' time, and I've a crucial role to play in the ceremony. I leave first thing in the morning. Perhaps you could ride up to the Khan's palace after you meet with Ingen? I should still be there by then."

Lodune looked into his tankard, focusing hard on the fine ale within. "I shouldn't. You know how I am with religious festivals. Unless you'd like to be banished from another one." Both men chuckled at this and fell silent. Finally, Khair spoke.

"What's wrong, Lodune? In all our years I've not seen you like this."

Lodune swirled his tankard, then finished the contents in a mighty gulp. "I'm not sure. I mean, we saved the boys. We saved the world. But why? I mean, what do you and I get out of it, really? Miku and Theake, they got each other, and in grand style I might add. But what's our reward? More lonely nights in the wilderness? More petty jobs for pettier nobles? Shouldn't we at least be assured of tomorrow, for all we've been through?"

Khair lifted the rogue's chin, staring deep into his eyes. "We did it so we'd be assured further adventures tomorrow. We did it because it's in our blood. We did it," he said, leaning in and kissing Lodune's lips softly, "because we love each other too much to let ourselves face such trials alone."

Lodune's eyes grew hot and moist at Khair's words, and he broke away from the Sentinal's gaze so he could regain his composure. Khair was right, of course. Adventuring was in both their blood, and settling down to the comfortable and known was something other people did. It just seemed like a nice life every now and then, especially after battling long dead demon gods.

Regaining himself, Lodune turned to Khair and said, "Ah, you're right, of course. I'm just getting old and soft. Besides, I know you'll always be out there looking out for me.

"Now come, you leave in the morning, you say? I've got a room upstairs where you can get to explaining to me what all those tattoos are for. I expect a detailed accounting, starting from your head, down. I'll have Rosa bring us a couple of pitchers. We should have plenty of time to cover all the markings, right?"

"Perhaps," Khair said, scratching his goatee thoughtfully, "but I warn you, one rune in particular will take a great deal of explaining."

Lodune smiled lasciviously. "Oh, I'm looking forward to the telling."

The two heros got up from their chairs and headed to Lodune's room, eager to see what tomorrow would bring.

THE END