12 -- Spectral Meetings [Story]

    "Keegan's dead.  What are we doing here?" Madeleine whispered to Wing as they entered the smaller final room in the crypt.  The raised dais held a single coffin, a warrior in plate armor with a sword laid across his chest, point toward his feet, carved upon the lid.  

    "Not sure.  Different ways to commune with the dead," Wing answered.  "But be on your guard."

    Farad stepped forward and knelt in front of the coffin.  He began to pray, silently.

    The room was silent.

    He prayed out loud.  

    Still nothing.

    "Maybe we should peek inside?"  The tiefling suggested.  

    The silence became more pronounced as Farad stopped from his prayer to look at Vorthos.  

    "Just joking," Vorthos protested.

    After various other prayers resulted in nothing, Farad shook his head.  "I do not know how to put him to rest, though I sense he is uneasy.  Perhaps we must destroy this Kalarel.  Let us go."

    As they turned to leave, the heavy lid of the coffin exploded in a flurry of dust.  A humanoid skeleton girded in ornate plate armor emerged from the cloud, pointing an ornate longsword at them, the empty sockets of its skull pointed right at them. 

    "The rift must never be re-opened!" Sir Keegan said, "State your business or prepare to die!"

    Madeleine gave a low whistle of appreciation. 

    Farad turned towards the skeletal knight.  He bowed.  "Brother, I am Farad, fellow initiate of Bahamut.  We have come to redeem you."

    Sir Keegan's ghostly voice echoed through the chamber.  "I am beyond redemption, whoever you are, and the evil that corrupted me threatens to corrupt you.  Why should I not slay you to keep you from the same fallen path!"

    Vorthos felt a firm hand in his wrist as he brought his hand to his hilt.  The ranger, Naruel, shook his head at him. 

    "Whatever has befallen you, I can sense that you ache to return to the road of righteousness that all paladins aspire to.  You will not slay us.  We seek to stop interlopers who are seeking to reopen the rift.  Search your senses -- I have faith that Bahamut will grant you good judgment even now to tell friend from foe."

    The skeletal knight was silent for a moment.  Then the eyeless skull turned to regard Wing.  "You, wizard born from those in eastern lands, unnatural forces abound in this place.  Are you equipped to overcome them?"

    Wing paused, then stepped forward, summoning a light into his hand at the same time.  "I am still early in my training but I recognize that there are powerful forces at work here.  I believe that with the aid of my friends, we can overcome them collectively, and I will lend my arcane talents to that effort."

    "I fell alone in the dark.  Allies are important."  The skeletal knight surveyed them, then turned to face Naruel, "Half-elf, your cold blue eyes seem observant, but may also hide ulterior motives.  What do you see before you?"

    Naruel hesitated, then answered "I see a hero trying to right past wrongs, corrupted by dark forces."

    "False!" cried the skeleton, dust and grime shifting as he swung his blade and hit the ground in front of him.  "No hero here ... only a fiend damned to eternal torment!  Perhaps you are not worthy!"

    "Wing gives better answers than you, Nary," whispered Madeleine.  "I hope we don't have to fight him."

    "Wait," Vorthos said, stepping forward, "do not judge us so quickly, sir knight.  I was just a lad when you fell and I acknowledge that the darkness of your sins may never be washed fully away in this world.   But as another who always bears darkness within him, I know that even those who live with darkness can tell friend from foe -- look at us truly.  What are we?"  

    Sir Keegan regarded him with a creaky turn.  "Tiefling, you remember my fall?"

    "Yes, I remember they say you killed your wife and children ..."

    A rending shriek filled the anteroom as Sir Keegan dropped his longsword and grasped his head.  "Yes!  I remember!  What darkness touched me!"

    "That can not be undone,  but do not do more ill by harming those who would have been your allies in another better time.  Help us!" Vorthos urged.

    The skeleton sat heavily on the coffin from which he had emerged, hands still cradling his skull.

    "I am past redemption.  But perhaps I can grant you aid.  I cannot leave this crypt, but Aecris can," the skeletal knight said, gesturing at his longsword.  "Perhaps this elegant weapon, unlike me, can be redeemed.  I give it to you that you might purge this keep of those who seek to open the rift."

    The skeletal warrior stood up, picked up the sword, still gleaming after years in the dust, and presented its hilt to Madeleine.  "Take it, swordswoman.  I see in your heart valor and loyalty, but guard yourself lest it become recklessness and cold-heartedness against strangers."

    "Seek Bahamut's boon at the altars outside and perhaps our lord too will grant you aid.  I see that devotion to Bahamut burns in your heart and it may save you from corruption, but remember that devotion can easily be corrupted into fanaticism and inflexibility," he addressed Farad.

    "Go," he commanded.  "I hope for all of us that if you are successful that we will not meet again in this world."

    They left the anteroom and as they closed the doors the darkness fell like a curtain over the sight of the skeletal warrior standing astride his coffin, silent as the grave.

11 -- Skeletons from the Past [Story]

 Even though she had heard the magical scream before, Madeleine's heart skipped a beat upon hearing it.  The scream came from a distance, but in the quiet dark of the pitch black tunnels off the store room in which they rested, it carried loud and clear to them, followed by the sound of running feet and something screaming.   Madeleine was up, squatting around the small fire that they had lit, and the scream made the others stire from their slumber with quiet groans.  

    "Did you see anything?" Naruel's voice whispered in her ear.  "Something triggered a rune?"

    "Nothing." Madeleine whispered in response.  In the pitch black Madeleine had waited for any hints of a light source carried by travelers but had seen none.  

    "I don't think the allies of the cult trigger the runes," contributed Wing, also stirring from his rest. "Though just because they are not allies of the cult does not mean they are friends of ours."

    "Wait?" Madeleine asked.  

    Naruel considered it for a moment, then shook her head and pulled her battle mask over her face.   "No,  Wing, conjure a light.  Lets go find whatever triggered that trap."

    *    *    *    *

    Whoever had triggered the trap was very quiet.  The darkness of the halls posed a real problem for the group, as any light that they could use to illuminate the area would also give up their position but they needed the light both to make their way and to avoid the trap runes in the halls.  They finally settled on relying solely on Wing's light cantrip being cast ahead of them, which would give away their general location but would not actually reveal any of them, who remained in darkness.  

    Slowly they made their way until they stood at the entrance of the room directly next to the stairway Balgrom had originally led them down into the set of tunnels.  Wing illuminated the room -- amidst the scattered pieces of the zombies they had dismembered and dragged into the room -- they saw a figure turn and face their direction for a moment.  He would have been a handsome young man in his late teens, if it were not for his reddish hue, horns and solid orbs of silver where a man's eyes would be.  

    "A tiefling," muttered Farad, recognizing his race's ancient enemy.  

    "Stop him so we can question him," hissed Madeleine to Wing.      
    
    Wing's ice bolt flew through the air, but with uncanny speed the figure darted out of the light and through an exit on the opposite side and the bolt shattered harmlessly against the wall, sending sparks of ice and blue fire in all directions.  

    "After him," cried Madeleine and ran to follow.  

    Madeleine, closely followed by the others, emerged into a dimly lit stone crypt.  Massive sarcophagi lined the walls of the crypt, five pairs facing one another, granite and containing relief images of human warriors in plate.  To the east the crypt opened into a higher, wider area from which emanated a starry glow.  

    "Be careful, something's wrong!"  warned Farad, one of the last ones to enter the room.  

    The figure they had been chasing stood in between the first set of massive sarcophogi.  Turning upon their entrance into the room, the tiefling cried out, "Oh, its you!  I thought it was goblins.  I've been sent from Lord Padraig of Winterhaven to find you ..."    

    The rest of his speech was drowned out by concussive bangs that rang throughout the crypt as the sarcophagi slammed open.  Clattering, clicking noises grew louder and bony hands emerged to grab the sides of the stone coffins.

    "Never mind that!  Defend yourself!" Madeleine cried, drawing her greatblade as skeletons emerged from the tombs, rusted but intact longswords in hand.  The tiefling wheeled and with a single motion drew a short sword.  Madeleine was relieved to see that, for his sake, whether friend or foe, he was armored in well-maintained leather.

    "Something is odd about this place ..." noted Farad in his deep voice as he hefted his warhammer.

    "Did the walking dead give it away, my boy?" Bailyn replied.  

    Naruel dropped her longbow and unsheathed her blades as skeletons emerged from the sarcophagi nearest her.  She spun around and struck, but her blade was blocked by the undead's longsword.  Though they were minor, the skeletons drew blood with their blades and, as an arrow nicked her, she asked incredulously  "These things can shoot arrows?"

    His way unobstructed by allies, Wing conjured a fan of fire that lit up the skeletons that had emerged from the sarcophagi west of them, maintaining the spell even as one avoided the flames and struck at him.

    The tiefling dodged under a sweeping blow and sent one skeleton clattering into pieces with a skillful strike of his blade, drawing an appreciative glance from Madeleine, who tore another asunder with a mighty blow that cleft another in twain, while a third crumbled as Farad impaled it with a javelin.   

    "Not bad!" called out Madeleine, but before the tiefling could respond a blade wielding skeleton warrior, his corpse still covered with some sinew and bone, darted in and slashed the tiefling, who cried out in surprise and pain.  Another skeleton of the same ilk, seemingly hardier than the others, sent Madeleine crashing to the ground as she dodged to avoid being beheaded by the creatures' attack.  

    The group had already destroyed a handful of creatures, but more were emerging from the sarcophagi.  

    Farad seemed distracted, looking toward the crypt as it opened up to the east.   Stepping over broken skeletal remains and manuevering past the stone sarcophagi, he saw that the illumination emanated from silvery-white light from a domed wide portion of the crypt.  Atop the dome was a fantastic, regal dragon with silver scales in flight across an endless sky.  Farad roared in recognition, "'Tis Bahamut!"

    The tiefling brought down another, but his breathing was heavy and strained.  Madeleine leaned over to the young man -- "I know not who you are, but for now, we fight together.  I have your back!"  The tiefling smiled in appreciation, though he said nothing.  Madeleine started at his fanged teeth.  

    Bailyn smashed two of the more decrepit skeletons in one blow and Wing and Naruel each brought down another, but even more were emerging, and the two hardier skeletons were pressing their attack on the tiefling and Madeleine.  

    "Cover me!" Farad yelled and ran towards the east.   One of the skeletal warriors, with uncanny speed, struck at the passing paladin, the blade making a terrible ripping sound as it cut through metal and flesh.  Farad staggered, but then kept on running.  

    Madeleine pressed the attack against one of the hardier skeletons, supported by Naruel's arrows and Wing's magic, while the tiefling parried and riposted against the other.  Bailyn swung his maul in a mad rage, trying to strike down the corpses that continued to arise from various sarcophagi.  The floor became dark and slick with blood from their wounds as well as from the gristle and bone of their undead opponents.

    Farad stood in front of one of two altars, inscribed in verses exalting Bahamut in draconic and carved with soldiers in plate armor in prayer in relief behind each. 

    "What is your dragon friend doing?!" hissed the tiefling to Madeleine.  "We need help -- these creatures are spawning as fast as we kill them!"

    "Trust us," Madeleine replied, though she too looked dubiously at the paladin standing motionless east of them.

    Farad knelt, praying the inscription.

    The Platinum Dragon is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer.  He is my stronghold, my refuge and my armor against the foes of life -- I need only kneel and offer him praise.

    The crypt went from dimly to brightly lit as the silver-white light increased in intensity.  The undead, so intent on the group's destruction a moment before, ceased attacks and turned to return to the sarcophagi.  Madeleine raised her blade to strike one from behind, but Wing warned her against it.  "Who knows what might break the return enchantment," he warned.  

    Soon the group was alone in the crypt.  Farad rose.  "Keegan lies in the tomb beyond.  I must investigate.  But first ..."  He looked at the tiefling. 

    *    *    *    *

    The tiefling looked and realized that the others had surrounded him.  While no weapons were unsheathed, hands rested close to hilts and wands.  He raised his hands and looked at each one of them with his silvery orbs.  "I pose you no threat.  I am Vorthos of Winterhaven -- a scout in Lord Padraig's service.  Two of my comrades and I were sent to find you.  We need your aid."

    "How did you know we were here?  We told no one of our goings?" demanded a woman clothed head to toe in dark greens and browns, longbow slung upon her back.

    "Yes, but Ninaran saw you leave the town and deduced that you might be found here.  I helped fight off those creatures with you -- and you, you fought alongside of me.  I did not betray you," Vothros explained, looking at Madeleine as he finished his point.

    Green eyes looked at him throughfully as the brown haired young woman in battered chain mail regarded him, hands on her hips.  "That is true.  But even enemies may temporarily unite beside a common foe."

    "How do we know you are not a spy.  We have reason to blieve there is a spy in Kalarel." Vothros turned as the dark-haired Eastern mage asked him a question.  

    "Who is Kalarel?" Vothros responded.  He drew his shortsword in one quick smooth motion as he heard the sound of a maul scraping against the ground.  

    "Ach, not this again!" roared Bailyn, brandishing his maul.  "First the fat goblin and now an infernal blooded bladesman!  if you are of no use to use ..."

    "Do not threaten me, sir dwarf.  You may outnumber me but I will make you suffer," hissed Vothros.  

    Farad's massive plate armored body stepped in front of Vothros and Bailyn, hands outstretched.  "There is no need for violence."

    "I have come to tell you that Lord Padraig and the town need you.  An undead blight has beset Winterhaven. The graveyard is overrun and they threaten the town.  Some worried that you caused this evil, but others believe in you.  Seeing how you treat me, I wonder."

    "Calm Vorthos.  I apologize.  You are right to be so aggravated -- I too know how it is to be judged falsely," responded Farad. 

    "We have risked much.  We were captured by goblins and one of my friends slain and another captured upon our approach to the ruins.  We must recue my captured friend -- he is a good man, well liked in the town and my personal friend.

    "Yet he escaped.  How convenient," whispered Madeleine to Wing, who gestured at her to keep quiet.  

    The group was quiet for a moment, until Naruel broke the silence.  "Well, what do we think?"

     "If what Vorthos said is true, that others from Winterhaven have been captured that were seeking us, they need to be rescued before they give up our presence."  Wing suggested.

    "I think .. that I must first investigate Lord Keegan's tomb on the other side of this crypt, and then we will decide how to proceed."  Farad responded.  Madeleine and Wing nodded in agreement and Naruel and Bailyn stood silent and indifferent.

    "Three to two.  Not the most overwhelming of votes, but I guess I don't die, huh?"  Vorthos said, sheathing his blade.  Farad turned to enter the next room.  

    Madeleine clapped him on the shoulder,  "not yet, anyway. Welcome to the team."

Twelve

    "Keegan's dead.  What are we doing here?" Madeleine whispered to Wing as they entered the smaller final room in the crypt.  The raised dais held a single coffin, a warrior in plate armor with a sword laid across his chest, point toward his feet, carved upon the lid.  

    "Not sure.  Different ways to commune with the dead," Wing answered.  "But be on your guard."

    Farad stepped forward and knelt in front of the coffin.  He began to pray, silently.

    The room was silent.

    He prayed out loud.  

    Still nothing.

    "Maybe we should peek inside?"  The tiefling suggested.  

    The silence became more pronounced as Farad stopped from his prayer to look at Vorthos.  

    "Just joking," Vorthos protested.

    After various other prayers resulted in nothing, Farad shook his head.  "I do not know how to put him to rest, though I sense he is uneasy.  Perhaps we must destroy this Kalarel.  Let us go."

    As they turned to leave, the heavy lid of the coffin exploded in a flurry of dust.  A humanoid skeleton girded in ornate plate armor emerged from the cloud, pointing an ornate longsword at them, the empty sockets of its skull pointed right at them. 

    "The rift must never be re-opened!" Sir Keegan said, "State your business or prepare to die!"

    Madeleine gave a low whistle of appreciation. 

    Farad turned towards the skeletal knight.  He bowed.  "Brother, I am Farad, fellow initiate of Bahamut.  We have come to redeem you."

    Sir Keegan's ghostly voice echoed through the chamber.  "I am beyond redemption, whoever you are, and the evil that corrupted me threatens to corrupt you.  Why should I not slay you to keep you from the same fallen path!"

    Vorthos felt a firm hand in his wrist as he brought his hand to his hilt.  The ranger, Naruel, shook his head at him. 

    "Whatever has befallen you, I can sense that you ache to return to the road of righteousness that all paladins aspire to.  You will not slay us.  We seek to stop interlopers who are seeking to reopen the rift.  Search your senses -- I have faith that Bahamut will grant you good judgment even now to tell friend from foe."

    The skeletal knight was silent for a moment.  Then the eyeless skull turned to regard Wing.  "You, wizard born from those in eastern lands, unnatural forces abound in this place.  Are you equipped to overcome them?"

    Wing paused, then stepped forward, summoning a light into his hand at the same time.  "I am still early in my training but I recognize that there are powerful forces at work here.  I believe that with the aid of my friends, we can overcome them collectively, and I will lend my arcane talents to that effort."

    "I fell alone in the dark.  Allies are important."  The skeletal knight surveyed them, then turned to face Naruel, "Half-elf, your cold blue eyes seem observant, but may also hide ulterior motives.  What do you see before you?"

    Naruel hesitated, then answered "I see a hero trying to right past wrongs, corrupted by dark forces."

    "False!" cried the skeleton, dust and grime shifting as he swung his blade and hit the ground in front of him.  "No hero here ... only a fiend damned to eternal torment!  Perhaps you are not worthy!"

    "Wing gives better answers than you, Nary," whispered Madeleine.  "I hope we don't have to fight him."

    "Wait," Vorthos said, stepping forward, "do not judge us so quickly, sir knight.  I was just a lad when you fell and I acknowledge that the darkness of your sins may never be washed fully away in this world.   But as another who always bears darkness within him, I know that even those who live with darkness can tell friend from foe -- look at us truly.  What are we?"  

    Sir Keegan regarded him with a creaky turn.  "Tiefling, you remember my fall?"

    "Yes, I remember they say you killed your wife and children ..."

    A rending shriek filled the anteroom as Sir Keegan dropped his longsword and grasped his head.  "Yes!  I remember!  What darkness touched me!"

    "That can not be undone,  but do not do more ill by harming those who would have been your allies in another better time.  Help us!" Vorthos urged.

    The skeleton sat heavily on the coffin from which he had emerged, hands still cradling his skull.

    "I am past redemption.  But perhaps I can grant you aid.  I cannot leave this crypt, but Aecris can," the skeletal knight said, gesturing at his longsword.  "Perhaps this elegant weapon, unlike me, can be redeemed.  I give it to you that you might purge this keep of those who seek to open the rift."

    The skeletal warrior stood up, picked up the sword, still gleaming after years in the dust, and presented its hilt to Madeleine.  "Take it, swordswoman.  I see in your heart valor and loyalty, but guard yourself lest it become recklessness and cold-heartedness against strangers."

    "Seek Bahamut's boon at the altars outside and perhaps our lord too will grant you aid.  I see that devotion to Bahamut burns in your heart and it may save you from corruption, but remember that devotion can easily be corrupted into fanaticism and inflexibility," he addressed Farad.

    "Go," he commanded.  "I hope for all of us that if you are successful that we will not meet again in this world."

    They left the anteroom and as they closed the doors the darkness fell like a curtain over the sight of the skeletal warrior standing astride his coffin, silent as the grave.

10 -- Delving Deeper [Story]

    As she made her way down the stone staircase, cloak wrapped tight right around her, Madeleine's heart raced.  Red eyes glared at her as the two large guard noticed her descent.  As large as a tall man, the creatures dwarfed the goblins they had seen before.  While their armor appeared just as dirty and ill-maintained, it was composed of hardy metal plates rather than leather or the chain links that their previous opponents had worn.   Behind the two guards were two more less well-armored but equally foul looking hobgoblins guarding the entrance to an adjoining chamber.  

    "Halt!" one yelled out in crude common.  Both guards moved forward, taking care to walk around a large open pit in the center of the room.

    "Shadow seeks shadow!"  

    "And life fails in the dark," Madeleine responded, her voice sounding embarassingly girlish in her estimation.  Her heart was pounding so loud she could barely hear her own voice.

    The two hobgoblins looked at one another.  "What is your business with Kalarel?  I have not seen you before."  one demanded.

    Madeleine did not answer but kept walking.  She was almost at the bottom of the stairs.

    The hobgoblin began to repeat the question when from a glowing magical bolt and a pair of arrrows launched from the darkness behind Madeleine.  The two hobgoblins guarding the next chamber began to fall, pierced.  

    As the hobgoblin guard yelled and reached for the dangerous looking ball and chain at his belt, Madeleine went into a full run and lowered her shoulder.  She crashed into one guard, giving a grunt as she felt the pain of slamming into armored flesh.  The hobgoblin guard pitched backward and fell headfirst into the pit, landing with a splash.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the second guard also falling as Farad's immense mass shoved it into the pit.  Madeleine pitched to her knees to avoid following her opponents in.

    "Watch the door!" Madeleine yelled as she got to her feet, unsheathing her warblade.  As Bailyn moved towards the door on their left, it burst open with a crash; more hobgoblins emerged from their left as two hobgoblins ran in from the hallway on the right.  One of the hobgoblins ran to engage Bailyn; the others ran towards the room the other hobgoblins had guarded.  

    The two hobgoblins in the pit were climbing out, pulling themselves hand over hand.  One fell back into the water as Wing's blast hit him directly in the chest.  Naruel's arrow pierced another but the muscled humanoid still managed to pull itself out of the well, no small accomplishment given its armor composed of plates of crude metal.  A vicious swing of its flail bounced off of Naruel's partially raised arm, resulting in a cry of pain from the half-elf.  

    "Nary!" Madeleine yelled and leapt forward, cutting through metal armor and skewering the hobgoblin from behind, the tip of her greatsword emerging out of the front of his chest.  "Are you ok?"  Madeleine asked, leaning forward. 

    Maruel pushed her away, rose and nocked an arrow in response. 

    "Stop them, Wing!"  Naruel cried.  Madeleine noticed with a start that the room some of the hobgoblins were trying to reach contained a cage in which an unbelievably large grey and black spider was throwing itself against its bars, venom dripping down its enormous fangs.  Before either of them could reach the latch, one hobgoblin fell, an arrow lodged in its throat, joined moments later by the smoking corpse of the other. 
    
    A sole scale mail clad hobgoblin engaged Bailyn on the left while Farad fended off two hobgoblins on the right, their flail and longsword failing to find much purchase beyond his shield and plate.  Fanged mouths and sallow green skin gave them a monstrous appearance, but with Naruel and Wing attacking from a distance and Madeleine swinging around to flank the ones attacking Farad, within a minute the remaining hobgoblins were slain.

    *    *    *    *

    The group moved quickly and carefully down the torch-lit hallway.  A crude double door was to their left while an adjoining corridor opened up to their right.   The ranger peeked her head around to scan down the corridor, then gestured for them to stay back.  It was quiet, save for the clank of their armor and their breathing.

    "Some kind of meeting room -- seems empty.  There are materials on the table.  Door on the other side.  No guards that I can see or hear."  

    "Move in, watch the doors, grab the paper and then check each door one by one."  Madeleine suggested.  The others nodded their head in agreement.

    "Wait!" Naruel warned.  She pointed down -- some flagstones in the hallway seem slightly ajar.  Bailyn knelt down and looked.  "Aye, tis a trigger to ... that" 

    Bailyn pointed up and they saw, mostly hidden but still slightly visible, the points of a raised metal portcullis in the hallway.  

    "Can you disable it?"  Farad rumbled, his draconic voice almost more felt than heard at such low volume.

    Bailyn nodded.  "Aye, lets jump over it and then I'll look at some way to jam the mechanism."  They carefully picked their way across the flagstones.  As Bailyn and Wing looked at the flagstone triggers, Farad and Madeleine walked into the meeting chamber.  A massive oaken table dominated the room, along with scattered crude stools.  The table top, scarred with burns and blade cuts, was covered with parchments and mugs.  A second door was visible now that they were in the room.

    Madeleine put her greatsword on the table and picked up a parchment.  "This is a map of Winterhaven, with guard ..."
    
    Madeleine was interrupted as the two doors in the chamber slammed open.  Five hobgoblins emerged from the first set of doors they saw, one taller than the rest and wielding a black metal spear, while three scale mail clad hobgoblins emerged from the other.  "Don't kill 'em if you don't have to," roared the tall one, "we can sell them to the Bloodreavers."

    Madeleine's curse became a hiss of pain as two of the hobgoblins leapt right onto the table, scattering mugs and parchment as they lunged at her with their blades.  She grabbed her greatsword and pulled back, their longswords glancing off of her chainmail.  Bailyn, running, reached her side and with one mighty swing the maul smashed through both hobgoblins' pair of legs, sending their broken bodies crashing onto the table top.  The other two hobgoblins with the tall leader swung around the table, one falling on the way, clutching an arrow in its chest.

    Bailyn swung right to form along with Farad a living wall of flesh and steel against the scale mail clad fighters that had emerged from the other door.  A wave of bluish-red flame washed over the burly hobgoblins from Wing's hands, but to Wing's dismay two of the hobgoblins managed to shield their exposed faces with their shields.  The third, though, screamed in pain as the flames washed directly over its face.  

    "They are hardy, focus fire on the one Wing hurt!"  Madeleine called over her shoulder as she fended off another one of the hobgoblins that had emerged with the taller spear wielding fighter.  Her warblade went wide but, distracted, the hobgoblin fell from one of Naruel's arrows.

    "That's it!" Madeleine shouted in approval as Farad and Bailyn brought one of the three they were fending off down, Bailyn swinging low and Farad high at the already burned green skinned brute.

    The tall hobgoblin was alone.  Madeleine leapt onto the table and over the crumpled corpses of the hobgoblin guards and charged.  

    Though his armor appeared heavy the tall hobgoblin moved with blazing speed and sidestepped Madeleine's blade.  Madeleine roared out a rousing battlecry and mustered her strength to strike again, but the leader's heavy bladed spear parried the second attack with a crash.  "You'll have to do better than that, lass," growled the tall hobgoblin.  Seemingly effortlessly, he pushed her greatsword to the side with his spear and gave her a wicked slash in return.  Madeleine gasped at the pain in her side, though the chain mail held.  Closer to him, she could see that under his plates of armor glistened inhumanly large muscles.  

    "Nary!  Mad's in trouble!"  Wing cried out as he saw his friend fending off blow after blow from the hobgoblin leader.  Madeleine, while not mortally wounded, seemed to be slowly crumpling as her attacks were being thwarted by the obviously skilled spearman.  Farad and Bailyn were busy trying to fight the two remaining hobgoblin soldiers on their left, far more skilled and better armored than the goblins and kobolds they had fought before.

    Naruel fired a volley at the hobgoblin and he staggered slightly as arrows found their mark, two piercing through armor into flesh, but the hobgoblin merely laughed.  "Your friends can't save you.  I guess I'll have to kill you as punishment.  Pity, you would have fetched a high price.  I would have liked to try you myself."

    Wing cried out in dismay as the spearman, blocking another blow, swung his spear around and slashed it at Madeleine's head.  Madeleine put up her blade in time to avoid being decapitated, the spear's blade slamming into the greatsword with a ear-rending clang.  Still, the diverted spear slid down the warblade and ripped across her shoulder and back, opening up the metal links and leaving a bloody red welt behind in its path.  
    
    Madeleine mustered her strength and swung low, but the hobgoblin brought his spear down and sent her blow off-course, the blade sending harmless sparks on the stone floor as it skipped off the ground.   She gathered her will to prepare for the pain of the hobgoblin's counterstrike but as the spear was hurtling back towards her, it slowed for a moment; Madeleine rolled to her left and out of the path.  Leaping to her feet she saw the hobgoblin leader staggering back, his chest and face burning from the magic acid from Wing's acid arrow.   Wing, eyes blazing with a rage that Madeleine had rarely seen from the mage, gave her an urgent look even as he voiced the vocal element of another spell.  As the hobgoblin leader sought to recollect himself another magical bolt hit him square in the chest.  

    Madeleine gathered the remains of her strength and leaped at the distracted opponent.  She cleaved down at the hobgoblin with one fierce swing as she came down from her jump.  The hobgoblin leader's head, expression still showing shock, bounced into the corner of the meeting chamber as its headless torso sank to its knees.  

    To their credit, the remaining hobgoblin warriors did not flee.  Using shield and flail they had given as well as they had got against Farad and Bailyn.  But with Madeleine now free, even though wounded, and Naruel and Wing able to strike at them from afar, they soon were pierced and smash corpses pooling blood on the stone floor.   

    *    *    *    *
  
  Several minutes later, as they were still catching their collective breath and search the two rooms adjoining the chamber, there was a cry of alarm.  The double doors off the hallway they had initially entered was open.  Behind it a short hall entered into a wider torch-lit chamber.  Another hobgoblin stood there, his big pionted ears emerging from under his helmet.  "Under attack!"  he cried in crude common and ducked out of sight to the east.

    "Stop him, Wing!"  Naruel yelled.

    "Got it!"  Wing leapt up from where he had been tending to Madeleine's wounds and gave chase, preparing to fire a bolt of ice.  As he rounded the corner, he saw the hobgoblin had fled through adjoining doors into a room full of tables, rubbish and more hobgoblins.  One, quite noticeably, was not equipped with a flail or longsword, but a longbow.  Nocked.

    Wing changed his target but as his blast hit the archer, the archer's arrow sunk into his shoulder.  He screamed in agony.  Farad and the others joined him.

    Bailyn raced into the room first and caught the first hobgoblin soldier, who turned and raised his shield to defend himself.  Bailyn knocked it aside and gave him a solid blow to the midsection, but the hobgoblin was well armored and made of sturdy stuff.  The hobgoblin gave a toothy smile, saliva making his sharp fangs glisten, "Ready to play, little dwarf!" he hissed, blocking Naruel's arrows with his shield.
    
    "Watch out Nary, spell!" Wing shouted as he heard a rough voice summon arcane magic.  Naruel darted out of the way as a blue bolt whipped out from a robed hobgoblin's staff and crashed into the space the ranger had been in just a moment before.

    Wing was still in the first room, looking through the door, but the others were in the next.  A 2nd hobgoblin soldier had joined the 1st and they stood shoulder to shoulder, preventing the group from physicaly reaching the robed caster and the archer.  

    "Take down the archer before he picks us off!" cried Madeleine as she attacked the hobgoblins blocking the hall. 

    Wing fought through the pain and fired another magical missile at the archer, who answered him in kind.  The archer missed, Wing hit.  But before Wing could summon another missile, the other door to the room in which he stood burst open and more hobgoblins emerged.  Wing used his staff to partially block a longsword swipe, his wounded shoulder throbbing from the effort.

    The archer grinned and nocked another arrow, taking aim at the distracted young lightly armored human.  But his bow slipped from his fingers as one of Naruel's shafts buried itself deep in his head.  

    Naruel's moment to stop and fire cost her.  The robed hobgoblin's 2nd bolt of blue lightning hit her square in the chest, sending the half-elf spilling back into the other room near Wing, smelling of burnt cloth and flesh.  The hobgoblins who had burst in from the other door swung at her with longswords.   Nary, though still stunned, rolled, and avoided taking a direct blow from the blades, but was still struck.  

    Then Wing was astride her prone form hand spread out wide.  There was a whoosh and blue-red fire spread out and covered the side of the room facing the door the hobgoblins had emerged from.  Three hobgoblins screamed in agony and fell writhing to the ground, charred corpses.  One remained, but Wing's burning hands spell gave Naruel the time she needed.  Pushing Wing to the side, she leapt up and brandished her swords, one in each hand. 

    "Wing, help the others clear the way! I'll deal with this one," Nary commanded, even as the hobgoblin blocked her attack and countered with a glancing blow to her leg.  Though the blow hurt, the ranger used the opportunity to leap out of the way and grab her longbow.  She wheeled and fired a shot into the melee, finally bringing down one of the two scale-mailed hobgoblin soldiers.   

    "Change in plans," she cried, "Madeleine, deal with this one, I'll clear the way so you guys can get the caster!".  Madeleine wheeled and engaged the ambushing hobgoblin, who was joined moments later by another.  

    "Good shot, lass!" cheered Bailyn, not looking back at Naruel, as he fended off the remaining soldier.  "I'll get to you soon!" he jeered at the robed hobgoblin.  

    Red eyes narrowed.  "Let me help you," the robed hobgoblin replied, stepping over the body of his comrade.  Bailyn blocked the robed hobgoblin's staff with his maul, but lightning licked down the maul and arcs of lightning seemed to leap and pierce through the dwarf.  The dwarf groaned in agony and Bailyn shuddered, his eyes partially glazing from the internal damage.

   "Wing, clear these, we're being surrounded!" Madeleine called out as she fought the two hobgoblins that were behind them.  Naruel, hemmed in by the hobgoblins, could not fire her longbow for fear of exposing herself to a thrust from one of the hobgoblin's longswords.  

    "Too many women shouting out too many orders!" Wing retorted, but he swung attention away from the brutes fighting Farad and Bailyn and brought down one of the two remaining ambushing hobgoblins attacking form behind them with a spell.  , but Madeleine ran through the other, parrying its longsword and plunging her greatsword through leather armor and out the hobgoblin's back in one smooth move.

    Farad struck the remaining hobgoblin soldier, callling upon Bahamut to shield his comrade -- a bright light limning the dwarf as the warhammer solidly crunched into the hobgoblin's shoulder.  The hobgoblin soldier staggered and was felled moments later by Bailyn's maul, but the dwarf's attention on the soldier left him open to a solid blow from the robed hobgoblin's staff.

    Suddenly they were alone with the robed hobgoblin, who staggered as two arrows from Naruel, now free of the ambushers, fired at him.  

    "Surrender and we'll kill you painlessly," wheezed Bailyn, blood streaming down his brow.  

    "I think not!" the robed hobgoblin raised his arms and brought his staff down with a crash and an incantation.  A blindingly bright light of blue and white lightning arced out in a wave from the warcaster.  Bailyn, Farad and Naruel were sent slamming into the walls and left lying on the ground.  Madeleine willed herself through the painful pulse and struck the robed hobgoblin with her warblade, who finally fell.

    The stone chambers, so recently filled with the cries of battle and the clang of metal against metal, was eerily quiet save for the heavy breathing of the adventurers.  Bailyn was unconscious and badly wounded, but they were alive.

    *    *    *    *

    Madeleine and Farad sat around the massive oaken table, looking at the papers strewn on it.  The hobgoblin's meeting chamber had nothing mentioning Kalarel or a rift, but it did have plans laying out an attack on Winterhaven.  As suggested by the note found in Irontooth's lair, there was clearly a spy in Winterhaven, as the positions and shifts of the town guard appeared to be available to them written in a clean and careful hand that Farad and Madeleine highly doubted was that of a goblin and seemed different than the one to Irontooth.  Disturbingly, the note outlined an attack not just be goblins and hobgoblins but also by a large number of undead.   The rest seemed to be bills of lading and notes between the hobgoblins and a group of slavers known as the Bloodreavers.  

    Bailyn was lying on the hobgoblin's filthy bed, recuperating from the most recent battle, while Naruel was guarding the spider's cage from the rest of the group.  Bailyn and Madeleine had argued that it should be killed lest it be freed and used against them later, but Naruel had felt strongly that the spider was not to be killed while it posed no threat to them and had since spent the time hanging out in the room keeping a watchful eye on the giant spider.

    "We need to head back and warn the town," recommended Madeleine.  

    "No, we need to press on," Farad responded.  "We still have to find Kalarel and we do not know how close he is to opening the rift."

    "Here we go again." Wing muttered as he sorted through the hobgoblins' belongings.  

    Madeleine laughed.  "He's right, but I'm not giving in this time and risking my mates' lives.  Bailyn's almost dead and we're exhausted ... we've just fought a whole hobgoblin clan."  

    "Each minute we tarry ..." Farad began.  
    
    "Lord Padraig should know of the threat ..." Madeleine responded.

    "If we prevent the rift from opening, there will not be a threat," Farad explained.    

    "If we're too tired and injured to fight him, we won't be able to stop him from opening the rift anway."  Wing pointed out, standing up and walking over to the two others.  

    "Farad, we share your goals of saving the town but you need to show some care for our comrades.  It is on all of us to make sure no serious harm befall any of us."  Madeleine said, her green eyes flashing with earnest resolve.  

    Seeing Farad silent, clearly struggling with the decision, Wing continued "we don't have to leave.  We can hide for a half day or so in the store room up above.  Its right near the stairs that are apparently the only way out of here.  We'll see any one coming in or out."

    Wing grabbed Madeleine's hand, sensing her disagreement.  "Madeleine, we need to compromise.  Farad's right -- it will take half a day to get back to town -- -- if we rest here we only lose several hours or maybe half a day."  He wanted to tell her that he could sense Farad would never agree to leave the keep entirely without his quest completed or an assurance Kalarel was further off of his goal and that this was perhaps the only way to avoid a more serious confrontation.

    Madeleine looked at the young mage, his soft face grimed with dirt and dried blood.  She felt fear in her heart that her comrades, as able as they were, would find death here despite their now clearly apparent abilities unless they were fully rested, but she also knew a good commander needed to listen as well as lead.  

    "OK," she sighed.  

9 -- Darkened Hallways [Story]

"Down the stairs -- there are some tunnels and then another set of stairs," Balgron explained. Madeleine, her warblade pressed against Balgron's back, looked over the fat goblin's fleshy mottled shoulder. He had brought them back to a door in the first room they had entered. Upon opening it an overpowering odor of damp rot greeted their nostrils and in front of them discolored stairs led down into cold darkness.

"Wing, quit playing with that wand and give us some light," Madeleine snapped, irritable from her unease.

With a start, Wing put the wand they had found in Balgrom's chest into his belt. Waving his hand and invoking one of the earliest learnt of his incantations, he conjured into existence a bright light at the foot of the stairs, illuminating a plain stone hallway stretching into the darkness beyond. They descended.

Moving in the dim illumination provided by Wing's magic light and a torch held by Farad, Madeleine almost missed the strange designs inscribed into the floor. "Stop!" she said roughly, pulling on the rope leash that led to the bindings on Balgrom's wrists. Balgrom stumbled to a stop. "What are those?" she demanded.

"Just decoration, see ..." Balgrom stepped forward. He stepped on the symbol. Nothing happened.

"Don't move!" Madeleine warned him. He stopped.

Wing stepped forward and knelt down to take a closer look, but after a moment he stood up and shook his head. "The fat little goblin might be right or he might not. I don't recognize them. Are they clerical?"

Farad looked hard at the runes gave an indeterminate sound. "I do not know." Bailyn rolled his eyes at Madeleine at the response.

"They are nothing. Look ..." Balgrom jumped up and down on the symbol. Madeleine cursed. "Stop moving!"

With surprising speed for his girth, Balgrom grabbed the rope and yanked, Madeleine stumbled and stepped forward.

A throat tearing scream exploded from the floor, answere by low, hungry moans coming from the dark. Madeleine was gripped by an icy chill and overcome by a compulsion to flee. Unable to control herself she ran, her comrades following suit. Behind her she could hear Balgrom's laugh, but it was drowned out by a high pitched keening that it took her a second to realize was her own voice, screaming. She fled.

* * * *

The compulsion to flee left Madeleine and the others at the same time, leaving them at the foot of the stairs they had initially descended. But they were no longer alone. Humans, clearly long dead, shambled into their midst, the dim radiance of Farad's torchlight illuminating grimacing corpse-like visages and clawed bony hands.

In the dark amidst the walking dead Madeleine felt a pang of fear. But it did not prevent her instincts from coming into play and she found solace in the familiar comfort of her leather hilted warblade. The creatures were disgusting, but slow, and one fell in a few short slashes and thrusts. Naruel and Wing made short work of several smaller ones.

"Back to the pit, abomination!" roared Farad, and his warhammer shone with holy light. Pieces of rotted flesh sprayed everywhere and a corpses' skull went flying into the dark; despite its larger girth its headless body crashed to the floor from the massive blow. Inspired, the rest of the group brought weapons to bear against their opponents.

* * * *

While his eyes could see in the dimmest of light, Balgrom could not see in the dark. But Balgrom knew these hallways well; he hid in a room he knew to be empty of the undead guardians that Kalarel had set up within. His initial glee at seeing the adventurers' run had faded after the sounds of battle had quickly ended and were replaced by the stomp of feet that he knew to be of his recent captors instead of the shuffling gait of the unliving.

There was suddenly light outside the room, its magical luminescence illuminating a portion of the chamber. Balgrom cursed silently. They must have heard him. He knew there was no way back upstairs without going through them. The only chance was to run and try to get to the lower level. Most likely the disdainful hobgoblins would torture or even kill him, but there was still a chance of mercy, whereas he could expect very little from the adventurers.

Balgrom dashed into the hall. He was chilled to the bone by an icy cold as a bluish bolt of ice slammed into him and he found it hard to move. If it provided any comfort, it dulled the pain as the naked fat goblin shuddered from the impact of arrows into his flesh. A crossbow bolt crashed harmlessly above him. He kept running as best he could, his legs moving slowly from the ice and cold. As he rounded the corner, the dragonborn and the dwarf were waiting.

"Wait," the goblin gasped, spitting blood and saliva from bluish lips. "I can help you. Have mercy ..."

There was none given.

* * * *

Lord Padraig waved off Valthrun's offer of a goblet of wine and rested his hand on the mantle above the fireplace in Salvana's private meeting room, bent over with worry. Outside the door he could hear the commotion of the villagers demanding to see him, combined with the shouting of his guards to stay calm and be quiet.

"Can we not dispell this? Or exorcise them away?" Padraig demanded, turning around to look pointedly first at Valthrun and then at Sister Linora.

"I am a scholar, not a wizard," Valthrun protested, "and Sister Linora can only call forth simple healing spells, not the type of divine judgment necessary to purge us of this evil."

"Besides, how can you send us into the graveyard when your own armed men have been torn limb from limb ..." Sister Linora said in a quavering voice.

"Ah, I wish Madeleine and her friends were here," muttered Padraig.

"How do you know they did not cause this problem?" responded Thair, the town's blacsmith "After all, they disappeared last night, which is when the grounds keeper went missing, and now we are beset with undead. Perhaps they caused this ..."

"Nonsense," hissed Ninaran, leaning forward from her chair, causing Thair to fall into silence. No longer in the deep shadows, the silver eyed gaze of the elf bore into those at those of her fellows, "While I had my doubts about them, by killing the kobolds they have clearly shown themselves to be valuable allies. I believe I saw them last night leave for the keep -- to investigate the disappearance of Lord Keegan perhaps."

"All the more reason to believe they have caused this problem, even if unintentionally. Whatever foul evil corrupted our former lord may have been waken, and caused these abominations to haunt our graveyard," Thair pointed out. There were murmurs of assent from around the table.

"Even so," Ninaran continued, "don't you think Lord Padraig, that if we sent some men to the keep to seek their aid, that they would not assist us? They are able fighters and have powers both arcane and divine, as well as martial. I will go to keep watch over the graveyard with your remaining troops and ensure that no creatures leave the area."

Lord Padraig was silent as he considered the counsel of the town's most prominent citizens. He put down his goblet.

"Very well, my lead scout is stealthy enough to avoid the creatures who are rumored to live there -- I will send him with some scouts to find our friends. Ninaran, you take a squad of my best men and go watch the graveyard."