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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Hostel Fox


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"Lady Celestialgrace?”

 

 

Salinye stopped her purposeful stride down the hallway as her name was called by an unfamiliar voice. Turning to address the woman who had called her she tried very hard to keep the frustration of the moment out of her features.

 

Hesitantly the woman continued speaking. “My name is Adrynna Shathward. I am currently traveling, and I was hoping to get some food and board here. Have I come at the wrong time? And I do offer my services if you should need anything or anyone eliminated."

 

Salinye looked around the room, the usual soft kindness that was her usual countenance replaced by stern and rare frustration. However, her words were gentle. “You are welcome here at Custos Manor, commonly called Salinye’s Hostel. As for your offer, we’ve had more than enough elimination for today. Please make yourself at home; the staff will be able to help you get situated. I’d be happy to speak with you in a bit. For now,” here she glanced around at the members from The Pen who had “coincidently” found their way to her hostel, “I have other matters to attend to.”

 

With that she briskly turned continuing her descent down a hallway hearing at least one set of shuffled feet hurrying to follow her. She led them expertly through the many corridors of the Hostel until they arrived at a rather large conference room. The room was sparsely yet elegantly decorated. The large oval table in the center of the room was Cherry. The legs were intricately carved in a fashion that was very common among the High Elves. There were a dozen matching chairs surrounding the table. Each chair was cushioned with a mossy green velvety material that had an ornate pattern swirled through it.

 

The far wall housed a magnificent window that curved around at the top giving a beautiful view of the front courtyard and accompanying fountain. To the right side of the window in the corner stood a small bureau, again, a matching piece. Atop the bureau was a silver tray with a pitcher of water and serving goblets. On the other side of the window stood a small bookcase full of various leather bound books. If one were to inspect them they might be surprised to find that each volume was a history of a particular race varying from the goodly races to the most heinous. The only other thing in the room was a painting hung on the same wall the door was hinged upon. Painted upon the canvas was a symbol few to none would understand.

 

Salinye paused for a moment as she opened the door. She forgot how much she liked this room. Pulling herself out of her moment of observation she strode into the room standing behind the chair at the far end of the table in front of the window watching to see who would be joining her.

Edited by Salinye
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The quick beast moved unseen amongst the light of the outside world and finally through the maze of tunnels that led through the dark of the Drow underworld until he at last resided before his creator and master. The necromancer glanced up from his scrying mirror to offer a rare moment of praise. “You’ve done well.”

 

The creature shook his head violently snorting as the rough calloused skin that covered his unnatural body rippled.

 

“Yes, I know. You wanted a taste of live flesh. Your self control will not go unrewarded.” The necromancer promised before turning a humored eye back to his scrying mirror. “It appears our lady has drawn quite the crowd. Very good. All the more pale rot for you to eat.”

 

The beast stopped it’s frustrated dance and lowered himself submissively.

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Ayshela followed Salinye down the corridors toward the meeting place. Stepping inside the door she looked around in appreciation. Mindful of those behind her, she moved to the table and chose a seat by the door. She sat patiently as the others came in and seated themselves, waiting.. and watching..
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  • 2 weeks later...

Ayshela, Tamaranis, and the party that had just arrived from The Pen followed Salinye into the conference room. The small assembly, excepting Salinye herself, began to find seats for themselves. Tamaranis felt inclined to remain standing, but he didn’t feel like engaging Salinye in a contest of wills, and he had no more desire to play games than she, so he did as the others and took a chair.

 

“I know all of you didn’t just stop by for a visit,” Salinye began after a moment, cold and businesslike “And I don’t have any desire to mince words or dodge the subject.”

 

All those present were a little surprised by her manner. Salinye was a little new to them, but she’d always seemed very open and friendly up until now, a far cry from her current behaviour. “I know one of you is up to something here,” that declaration was even more surprising, “and I want to know what it is. In a nice, orderly fashion, you can either tell me what you’re hear for or leave my hostel.”

 

“We’ll start with you.” Salinye said, voice carrying contempt, as she pointed an accusing finger at Tamaranis.

 

“I think that all this isn’t necessary,” Tamaranis started to answer, which earned him a menacing look.

 

“I only came to warn you about the dream that I suspect woke you earlier than normal this morning. You’re probably already aware, but it wasn’t just a nightmare.”

 

Salinye fought to prevent herself from becoming afraid of the people surrounding her. Even now she couldn’t completely shake off the terror that dream had brought her. Against her will the idea that Tamaranis might be threatening her right now crept into her mind. That thought swiftly brought to mind arcane syllables that would call down lightning and fire.

 

“I experienced the dream as well, from my own point view.” Tamaranis said, “And I imagine the same is true for Gyrfalcon, Darryl, and Annael.” he paused, “Our actions were, of course, beyond our control.”

 

“Even if you would be willing, or perhaps want, to believe that this is some massive coincidence, I don’t dream the way the living dream. I should not have been able to share in it.” Tamaranis added, stressing that there was something real at work here. “I simply wanted to be sure you were aware of this, that is why I came here.”

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Gyrfalcon leaned forward to rest his arms on the table, smiling faintly despite the gravity of the issues being discussed as Daryl huddled on the other side of him, keeping the half-elf between himself and Annael's vicious butterflies.

 

Gyrfalcon looked up as Tamaranis spoke and watched Salinye's reactions, noticing the lines of tension around her eyes and the whiteness of her knuckles where she clutched the table. Gyrfalcon sensed that something was worrying the half-elven woman, something beyond the bad dream they had all shared.

 

Gyrfalcon cleared his throat as Tamaranis finished speaking. "He has a very good point, Salinye." Gyrfalcon said quietly. "The undead don't dream in the same fashion that the still living do, not to mention that the statistical possibility of all of us sharing the same dream, including the same exact details are almost impossible. I suspect that some external source has imposed this dream upon us. That leaves the question though, of who or what did this... and why."

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Salinye turned her gaze from Tamaranis to Gyrfalcon as he spoke. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment as the things she had read from “Gyrfalcon the Mad” swirled in her mind. Finally she in turn looked to Annael and Daryl. “Is this true. Did you two also share this nightmare?” Annael nodded and Daryl smiled regretfully indicating he too had been plagued by the dream.

 

“Very well. I’ll have to think on that. And for the rest of you?” She asked still very uncharacteristically cold and business like.

 

Ayshela was the first to speak up. “I didn’t have the same dream the others speak of, as you all seem to remember it quite clearly. However, I did have very unrestful sleep and the only thing that settled in my mind from the whirlwind of confusion was that perhaps you were in danger, Salinye. I’m a very intuitive creature, and seeing how we’re both new around Pen Castle, we have established a new friendship. I’m not sure what’s going on, and I’m a bit boggled to find such crazy events taking place. I only came here to pay a visit and see for myself that you were indeed alright.”

 

The wizardess smiled softly at Ayshela. She was telling the truth, she was sure of it. They were both new at The Pen and had been hanging out together trying to learn the ropes. However, this still left the unnerving occurrence of last nights dream. Somehow some of the feelings of danger had passed over to Ayshela.

 

“Well, tampered dreams seem to be a common theme here.” Salinye turned to look at the founder of The Pen, Ozymandias. “I didn’t dream of you, Salinye. However, my sleep has been disturbed by violence for a few nights here. It was through a sparring match with Gyrfalcon that I learned of this situation. As leader, I am responsible for and concerned about the happenings around The Pen. I came here in a sincere desire to help the situation. I’m sorry to find you distrusting and angry. I’ve never known anyone in this room to be anything short of trustworthy and loyal, m’lady.”

 

Staring at the Elder of the Pen she gathered her thoughts together. Sure, so you’re implying one of three things. Either you’re a poor leader and naïve enough not to know the history of your own people or you do know and are in cahoots with them. The only other possibility is that I’m wrong and none of you have ill intents.

 

Salinye rubbed her forehead trying to calm her now throbbing headache before looking up and finally speaking in a softer more defeated tone. “I think I’m going to need some time to think about this and sort it out. I also need to figure out why I have a huge hole burnt into the side of my hostel and one man lying in my infirmary. I don’t exactly know what is going on, but I know SOMETHING is going on and it reeks of danger. Would you all do me the kindness of remaining here at the hostel for the night and meeting with me again in the morning?”

 

She was answered with some nods and even some sympathetic looks. It was obvious more was churning within her mind and heart than met the eye. “Since I see no objections, please help yourself to the hospitalities of my hostel.” Where I can keep a close eye on you. She silently added.

 

"Actually, Lady Salinye," Tamaranis said with controlled politeness. "I actually have some business I need to attend to. However, I am confident I can be back by nightfall."

 

Salinye stared at him for a long moment before responding. "Very well."

I’ll have my staff show the rest of you some rooms you can choose from. Ayshela, Gyrfalcon, Daryl and Annael, I think you might want to consider the garden rooms. Our more woodsy types tend to prefer them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have….things…to attend to.” With that the mage swept from the room in turmoil and haste.

Edited by Salinye
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Elsewhere, far away from the Hostel...

 

Yui-chan sat in the foyer, a pile of papers scattered across the writing board on her lap and her worn quill in hand. Although the writing utensil moved with a steady motion, it was far from either ink or page as its soft-feathered tip brushed absently back and forth across her cheek, driven by the nervous motion of one fair hand. The woman's eyes were dark as she stared out the window, brow furrowed, ignoring the work in front of her in favor of reflections on this morning's meeting with Salinye and her mysterious moment of fright. It worried the mages more than she could put to words, given how close her friend had been to the protective wood of the Baelin Seal. She frowned, recalling the elven sorceress' frightened look and pale skin as she'd sat on the floor of the Warding Room. Had she truly been that surprised by whatever she'd been researching, or did ... it... even now hold Salinye in thrall? Yui couldn't shake the feeling that the elf's blue eyes had revealed her words as a lie when she'd claimed that it was just the reading she'd been so shocked at, and so she worried. She knew the terrible legends surrounding the malevolent magic locked in that armoire, just as she knew that to touch it was to risk being consumed by it. Had Salinye ignored her warning and touched the chest? Was she, even now, possessed by the evil?

 

The thought sent shivers down the little human's spine, and her frown deepened. She had to make certain.

 

Yui stood so suddenly that the writing board and papers on her lap spilled to the stone floor with a terrible clatter. In only a few seconds, Nakarei was at her side, his eyes wide with alarm.

 

"Yui-sama? Is everyth-"

 

"I must leave at once, Nakarei," she interrupted him with uncharacteristic haste and a wave of the hand. "Everything is fine, here, but I need to go check on a friend."

 

"I... hai, Yui-sama. Shall I fetch your cloak?" he asked, bowing humbly despite his urge to ask more. It was not rare for his lady to leave at an hour as late as this, but seldom did she seem so rushed.

 

The young woman nodded, but added, "Have the stable saddle me a horse, though. I'm only going to Walk the Shadows part of the way there. I don't want to startle my friend, only to make sure that she's safe. Tell Meiji to ready Onikage; he doesn't usually get skittish when I take him through the darkness."

 

Like the humble servant he usually wasn't, Nakarei nodded and bowed, keeping his silence as he hurried off into the depths of the manor.

 

Yui turned and hurried to her room to change out of her day-dress and into something more serviceable. Now that her mind was made up, she felt as if time were of the essence, and she found herself running down the hallway and out into the courtyard. With faithful diligence, Nakarei stood there holding her cloak while the stablemaster gentled the gelding standing impatiently beside him. The young lady of the manor smiled at the two men, pleased as always with their kind service.

 

"Thank you, gentlemen. I should return shortly. If Aegon gets back from his journey to the outlands yet tonight, tell him that I have gone to visit Salinye," she instructed simply, swinging her leg over the saddle.

 

"Wakarimasita. I'll see to it." Nakarei handed her cloak to her, stepping back as she swung it over her shoulders and clasped the black metal at her throat. "You will be careful, will you not?"

 

He looked worried, so she smiled reassuringly and leaned down to pat his shoulder. "I'll be very careful, Nakarei. Arigatoo. Both of you," she added, glancing at Meiji, before she nudged the horse with her knees, moving with him as he leapt into an eager canter. As the two servants watched, their mistress and her mount hurried straight for the rear wall and disappeared into the massive shadow that turned the grey stone black.

 

Ten minutes later, Yui-chan guided Onikage carefully around a fallen log in the middle of the road, her eyes scanning the horizon for the Hostel that she knew should be coming into view very soon. In her mind's eye, a terrible image of the beautiful building in flames refused to be banished by all the positive thinking she could muster, and her frown was deep as she wondered at the implications. It wasn't like the Huntress, despite her shadow ties, to be cynical or alarmist, but the fine hairs on the back of her neck were sending frissions of alarm down her spine. The night felt wrong.

 

Beneath her, Onikage faltered, blowing through his mouth nervously. As Yui glanced at the ground around them, he skittered sideways and tossed his head, fighting her control of the reigns.

 

"Shhhh... it's okay, boy..." she mumbled, patting his neck in an attempt to reassure him. The darkness made it hard to see the ground, but here and there, she could see a hint of motion, as if one or many small, dark shapes were moving around them. Alarmed, Yui-chan gestured with one hand, mumbling a quick cantrip under her breath.

 

The moment her magelight sprang into brilliant existence over her hand, she dropped it with a startled shriek. As the woman watched in shock, it fell onto the matted backs of a handful of mangled rats and dissipated like a cloud in the wind. Yui shuddered, fighting now as much to keep herself under control as to keep the horse calm; she wasn't the type to fear rats and mice, but these monstrosities were enough to chill her blood. These were not simple rats, but undead abominations, some half-chewn and gangrenous and all repulsive to the extreme.

 

She wasn't interested in more light after that, her heart sinking into her stomach with dread. Were they a sign that Salinye had, indeed, been possessed by the dark magic? It suddenly seemed more a probability than an inane worry, and the Huntress' mouth went dry at the thought. Letting her firming hand on the reigns go slack, she kicked the horse into a gallop. There was no reason to hold back, and no more time to spare.

 

The hostel staff gave her wary, wide-eyed looks as she came galloping into the courtyard, a black-cloaked woman on a great, huffing black horse. For her part, worry overcame courtesy, and Yui-chan leapt from the horse with barely a backward glance at the dutiful stable boy who stepped up to take his reigns. She strode immediately for the front desk, where a young woman stood watching her with alarmed eyes.

 

"Where is Salinye? I must see her. Immediately," she said, power and command ringing through her voice.

 

The poor lass quailed before those intense, green eyes, stuttering, "S-she... has retired for the evening. She's not to b—"

 

"You will disturb her. There is no time to be courteous. Take me to her, now, or I will find her for myself," the magess threatened with a frown, slapping her hand on the desk. "She will see me. It's important."

 

Thoroughly intimidated, the Salinye's employee could do little more than nod and shakily step out from behind the desk. "This way, my... lady," she mumbled hesitantly, slanting a glance at another servant who'd just entered through a side door. "I'll take you to the mistress."

 

Yui-chan did not miss the look that passed between them as the servant led the way deeper into the Hostel, and she tensed, her senses alert for any treachery. Yes, the night was most definitely very wrong...

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Walking at a leisurely pace to the door of the Hostel, Jirah moved soundlessly through the night. As he neared the place, his gaze swept over the building. It fit the description he'd found in the Baron's files.

 

His lips quirked at the memory of the former Baron. He'd been a rather fat man... a pompous old fool, really. His people would be better off without him.

 

That was why Jirah had taken the job... Ever since Nilani, he hadn't been able to kill those who were honestly good... not like that.

 

As he neared the door, he felt his wrist grow warm, and he snapped his attention back to the present. There was magic here. He'd have a time of it sneaking in, then... his bracelet would protect him from unfocused magical detection... but if they looked for him specifically, he might be in trouble.

 

He smiled as he looked at the door. The wizardess had probably left a spell on it... the papers had said she was paranoid. Granted, he admitted, they also said she wasn't human, and that she had made secret pacts with some of the darker powers... but then, with wizards, who knew?

 

It was a simple matter to circle the building and find an unoccupied room. He stood for a moment on the ledge outside the window, then launched himself for the roof. With a firm grip on the edge, he pulled himself onto the top.

 

"Elves don't have a monopoly on dexterity and grace." He mouthed, not really putting any breath into it.

 

The courtyard would be near the center of this place, if the layout was at all normal... so he travelled lightly to the nearest opening in the roof, and crept toward it silently.

 

He was rewarded with a momentary glance at a woman reading, by candle light. Fortunately, she had her back to him, but he backed up quickly. He wasn't here with a living target... but this would certainly make things more interesting. He'd hate to have to kill someone because he was so clumsy as to be seen.

 

Further inspection showed the next opening to be the proper place. Fortunately, no one appeared to be in the courtyard.

 

In the center of the courtyard was his target. The jewel encrusted fountain written of in the Baron's papers. How a wizardess could possibly have afforded such a thing was unfathomable... but it didn't matter. Just one of those jewels, the scribes had said, was worth more than some poor traders made in their lives.

 

There was a tree a few feet from the roof, and a quick stepping leap landed him comfortably in its branches without too much noise. Seconds later, he was beside the fountain, appraising the various jewels. Finally, he found one that he suspected wouldn't be missed quickly. He reached into his sleeves and withdrew a cheap knife he'd collected on the way in. His good knives had to stay sharp, of course...

 

As he set the tip of the knife to the edge of the jewel, he heard a faint scratching sound, followed by a hiss, come from behind him. Just a rat... or a cat. Or a cat stalking a rat.

 

He turned to look, and leaped aside as a nauseating monstrosity came flying toward him. It landed on the fountain and hissed again, before attempting once more to pounce him. This time it met his knife, which he promptly planted in the ground at his feet.

 

"Curious creature." He muttered. "It looks like it is... or was... a rat. But it doesn't seem to be bleeding... and it doesn't seem to be terribly fazed by being impaled. Fortunate that I'm wearing gloves."

 

Judging the distance between the courtyard and the outside of the Hostel, he quickly snapped the creature's neck (which, he noticed, seemed to affect its motion more than his dagger had) and hurled it over the roof into the grounds outside.

 

He looked back at the fountain, at the jewel, and at his knife. With a shake of his head, he decided to leave the fountain as it was for the night. As he left the Hostel, he decided that he would have to try to find some way to inform its owner of her rat problem.

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Annael, taking Saliyne's advice, choose one of the garden rooms. Looking out of her window at said garden, Annael saw a tree that caught her attention and decided that she needed to try out it's branches. Walking out into the garden, Annael closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the fresh air and the sense of serenity that entered her. Settling in the tree up high in a branch, Annael brought her knees up below her chin and resting her head on her knees. Humming to herself, Annael prepared herself for another sleepless night.

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It was difficult to classify exactly what Shesh-Oling, so named by its inhabitants, was. The dominant view among mortal scholars was that it was another plane of existence, but was much farther away from the prime material than most known, and that was why the whole of the plane seemed to contain no physical matter, or even space. Others considered it to be state of mind rather than an actual location. Other theories were abound, such as Shesh-Oling being one of the elemental component planes of hell, or the mind and will of some immensely powerful dark god. Whatever the case might be, its inhabitants weren’t sharing the answer.

 

And the inhabitants were just as mysterious. Somehow they existed with a complete lack of anything. They were powerful minds that existed without any sort of physical or even magical body to support them. They varied in intensity. Some were god-like, and would crush the unshielded mind of a mortal if they were to so much as turn their attention on it. Others were of only animal intelligence. The lot of them carried an unceasing hatred that seemed to encompass everything.

 

To fully expose oneself to Shesh-Oling would bring about madness if the experience didn’t prove fatal. Millions of mental voices howled chaos at Tamaranis’ presence, but he remained much closer to the material world than to Shesh-Oling, and they could not reach him. If he were to expose himself any more even the powers of an archmage combined with the presence of the void would not have been able to save him.

 

There was no movement here. There was nothing to move through. For an entity used to the concept of a physical location this made searching the place nearly impossible. The particular mind Tamaranis sought, however, was not similarly limited, and found him easily. The trick here was not to try to move into communication range with the mind he sought. Any mage who attempted that would be drawn into Shesh-Oling and snuffed out by the madness that filled it.

 

Instead Tamaranis’ body began a summoning ritual, his voice fractured into several, and each one of those again fractured. Each began casting component spells that progressively bent reality, creating within this plane a point similar to Shesh-Oling. Some of the runes that had been painstakingly painted on the floor in his absence now twisted and shifted in response to a rapid series of intricate gestures he made.

 

As the mind he had been seeking was brought nearer the prime material plane, or just made more relevant to it, depending on your school of thought, Several of Tamaranis’ now multitude voices switched to casting spells that would sever all connections between here and Shesh-Oling. In the same instant that the target mind was brought close enough to communicate with, but not fully summoned, the severing spells were completed, and vital components of reality were restored, preventing more of its kind from following.

 

Instantly the creature threw all its mental might against its summoner, trying to manifest fully. The majority of the runes, those that had not yet moved, now began weaving about Tamaranis in response to the attack, preventing the brunt of it from ever reaching him. The thought-stream fractured and flowed away in all directions. The soldiers and servants resident to the tower experienced a brief moment of confusion which quickly faded.

 

A portion of the attack slipped through. Tamaranis brought the void to the surface of his mind and most of what actually reached him was swallowed up and ceased to be. The fraction of a fraction that got past both the runes and the void burned through the vampire’s mind. His own thoughts were blurred together and for a moment it was a struggle both to keep focussed on what he was doing and why, and to keep the various spells at work in place.

 

Can’t blame me for trying In order to be heard through all the wards, the presence Tamaranis had summoned directed those thoughts at him with nearly the same intensity as the attack it had just launched. There was no chance Tamaranis would put his guard down just because its initial escape attempt failed.

 

“Cute.” Tamaranis commented. “I need to track some one down. Some one who thinks too quick to be caught by a dragoon.” Speaking aloud greatly simplified the delicate process of sending thoughts back without overly exposing himself.

 

You’ve always got such interesting problems It mentally hollered back, I can find it. One thousand

 

“I thought you would have noticed the end of the mage war” Tamaranis responded, “I can’t just make a thousand people disappear without anyone noticing anymore. But I‘m sure by the time this is over I‘ll have had the opportunity to banish a few mortals to Shesh-Oling.”

 

I am not in the business of helping prime undead with petty problems for token-pay! This time its thoughts were fully as “loud” as its attack had been.

 

“You’re presence here can be terminated at my leisure.” Tamaranis pointed out, “Now what I’m offering you could be as high as a few dozen...”

 

Another mental assault was his answer, this one continued on, unlike the first. Tamaranis’ multiple voices collapsed on themselves, becoming one as his mind became disordered. The presence continued to press the attack.

 

Unable to bend his mind into a banishment spell powerful enough to deal with this particular creature, Tamaranis turned manna into thought and responded in kind. The presence retreated slightly, and the runes painted on the floor switched fully into offensive mode, spinning in a pattern that seemed chaotic but was instead just immensely complex, picking away pieces of the alien mind. The presence turned it‘s attention from Tamaranis to the runes, and they became genuinely chaotic, then ground to a halt.

 

It was an uncharacteristically heavy-handed and clumsy spell that Tamaranis managed to cry out that flung the mind back to it’s home dimension. He expended nearly thrice the manna it would have taken him to use the same magic under normal conditions, and the excess energy coursed around the room, eating through the stone as it went.

 

He had fairly yelled the magic, and Tamaranis actually spent a moment catching his breath. He was usually a fairly good judge of demonic character, and generally knew which could be summoned and manipulated, and which would be doing the manipulating and should be avoided. He been underestimating the power of that particular creature for quite some time however. That had been much too close for comfort. His best shot at finding whoever had disturbed his dreams, it seemed, had become a non-option.

 

Tamaranis banished the spells that sealed shut the only door offering admittance into the summoning spell he occupied. Immediately it opened and a handful of soldiers entered, ready to aid their master in dealing with whatever had gone wrong.

 

“The summoning failed,” was all Tamaranis told them as they took in the damage that had been inflicted on the resilient stone.

 

Having regained his usual composure, he stepped out of the summoning chamber. Spells were normally in place there to tightly control any supernatural movements. They might well have been damaged and he didn’t want to attempt any supernatural movements from that room.

 

Now free of the summoning chamber, he began intensifying the darkness around himself in preparation to travel back to Salinye’s hostel. She had requested everyone spend the night there, and since he felt no inclination to sleep with the coming of darkness, Tamaranis might be able to catch their mysterious dream-attacker in the act. If not, perhaps Ozymandius had figured something out.

 

The darkness around Tamaranis became deep enough that he was disconnected from his specific location, allowing him to reconnect just outside the Hostel. As he did so, however, he became aware of something very familiar. Mass-necromancy.

Edited by Tamaranis
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Salinye looked up from the book she was reading, or more realistically was staring at for the past hour while her mind tumbled in turmoil, as a rather flustered servant knocked twice before entering her chambers. The wizardess was not usually interrupted in the evening unless it was something important. “What is it, Lethia?” She asked the girl with a tinge of worry upon her brow.

 

“My lady Celestialgrace,” the girl began bringing a smile upon her lips. She couldn’t count all the times she had asked the girl to freely call her Salinye. She thought there was no need for such formalities. However, the girl was quite dutiful to her job and was young into her studies of magic. Addressing her more formerly was her way of showing respect to the mistress she admired. “I’m sorry to disturb you. A woman has arrived and she feels it is urgent that she sees you. She insisted.”

 

Salinye nodded wearily. What next? She silently asked herself. “Very well, show her in. She then signaled to Lethia in a code that was taught to all the hostel staff. The code was created as a series of hand gestures. Made so slight that a conversation could take place between two people undetected by an unobservant audience. Place the staff on alert. I don’t like the feeling of this visit or this night. Lethia nodded her understanding before walking back out of the study only to return shortly with Yui following her.

 

“Thank you, Lethia.” Salinye said kindly dismissing the girl. Once the girl had left and the door was once again shut the wizardess turned her attention to the huntress. “Please sit down, Yui. It’s very late, so I would appreciate it if you could speak directly on the issues that have brought you here at this hour, as I assume this isn’t a social call.” The mage’s words were matter of fact, but not unkind. It was late and neither women cared to mince words.

 

Yui nodded her agreement before speaking. “I’ve come here, Salinye, because I’m concerned about your visit to the Ward room. I know that I promised to give you privacy, and I followed through with that problem. However, I can’t let go of the feeling that your shaken state when you left there was not soley from your research.” Here she paused as if perhaps her words were enough to draw an explanation out of the wizardess.

 

After letting the silence sit between them for a few long moments Salinye finally spoke. “What is it you’re implying, Yui? I thought we agreed to get directly to the point of this visit.” Again her words were direct, but not rude.

 

The huntress stared at her for a long moment before leaning forward looking intently into Salinye’s eyes and clasping her hands together resting upon her knees. “Alright, Salinye. I think you touched the Armoire. I think it affected you, and I’m worried it may influence you in unfortunate ways if it hasn’t already.”

 

Salinye nodded. “I’m not being affected by anything from that room other than what I have read while doing research. I was true to my word. I avoided the armoire.”

 

“Then you are saying you did not touch it at all while in that room?” She asked pushing the issue.

 

“Yui, I am an experienced mage. Not only did I recognize that as the most powerful object in the room the moment I walked in the door, but I also recognized that whatever it contained was not something I ever wanted to reckon with. My intelligence rules over my natural mage inspired curiosity.”

 

“So…” Yui began again. “You are saying you did not touch it at all while in that room?” She repeated the question again not allowing Salinye to dance around the issue. When she got no response she added, “Look, Salinye. The Baelin Seal is not only extremely powerful, but also extremely evil.”

 

Finally Salinye decided to level with the mage. “Okay, Yui. I was honestly disturbed by some of my findings and accidentally brushed the leg of the armoire with my hip. That also startled me, however, I don’t feel any impressions within my mind as of yet, and if that is to change, I assure you I will take measures to contact you.”

 

Yui looked at her with a mixture of skepticism and worry. “Salinye, for all I know you’re already under its influence. I think we need to get you back to The Pen to be checked over by a series of mages and clerics as well as keep you under observation for a few days.”

 

Salinye rolled her eyes and groaned inwardly. “Look, Yui. I know you’re just doing what you think is best, and I understand the reasoning behind it, however, I can’t submit to such observation right now. If you haven’t noticed, I have a hole in the side of my hostel. Not only do I have to get to the bottom of that, but there are….other issues at hand that need, no that demand my attention.”

 

The huntress’ voice turned more firm than it had been before. “Salinye, if you refuse to submit yourself to being checked over and observed then frankly, you’ll have to be marked as not trust worthy at The Pen. We may even have to go so far as to suspend your membership and restrict your access to the castle, it would be a safety precaution.”

 

“You know,” Salinye began. “Why don’t you go ahead and do that. Infact, I’ll GIVE you my membership back. After the things I’ve learned I don’t trust you anymore than you trust me, especially with some of the people you harbor there. I’m not so sure The Pen Castle is even a good place to be! So, if you want to make threats, make good on them. If you want to “observe” me, then I suggest you stick around the hostel with all the rest of your crew from The Pen.”

 

Yui was about to retort until the wizardess’ last statements. “There are others here?”

 

“Oh yes, the entire welcome wagon arrived today. Tamaranis, Gyrfalcon, Daryl, Ozymandias, Annael and Ayeshela. Not to mention a few “coincidental” strangers. Simultaneously it just so happens that my hostel gets a hole blown through the side of it. So, you can see, I’m a bit skeptical at this point.” She replied not mentioning her dream on purpose.

 

Yui responded her voice not rising in stress like Salinye’s. “I think I will stay here after all. Could I be taken to Ozymandias?”

 

“Of course. Lethia can show you to his room.” She replied.

 

Rising from her seat the huntress headed for the door. “I really am sorry things have to be this way, Salinye. It really is a necessary precaution, you do understand?”

 

“Of course I do.” Salinye replied. “You also must understand that I equally need to take safety precautions.”

 

Yui wasn’t sure why Salinye didn’t feel safe at The Pen Castle, however, she was highly suspicious that the mage had been affected by her contact with the Baelin Seal. She was not acting like herself at all. Opening the door she turned back to address the mistress of Custos Manor one more time. “Salinye, I nearly forgot. As I was coming here I noticed something very odd. In the woods North of here I stumbled upon a rather large gathering of undead rats.” She watched the wizardess’ reaction very carefully trying to read as to whether Salinye was behind them or not.

 

Looking up in surprise and genuine shock Salinye stood up and looked out her window. “Undead rats in the Northern woods? That is not at all common. I’m going to send some guards out to investigate. Thank you for the warning.” Salinye’s sincere desire to keep her hostel and guests well protected was more than evident. Either that, or she’s a good actress , Yui thought to herself as she walked out the door to find Ozymandias.

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Tamaranis paused next to the hostel extending his vampiric senses outwards hoping to hone onto the source of the necromancy he could feel permeating throughout the area. He knew by instinct that it was strongest next to the North wood. Within mere seconds the vampire was surrounded by an immense darkness and disappeared only to arrive at the tree line of the forest in reverse fashion. The first thing he noticed when the unnatural darkness cleared was a scurrying stream of rats pouring from the woods. His keen senses were not fooled, he knew without close investigations that the rats were not naturally formed. They were undead, risen from their slumber to do their master’s bidding. Their mindless intent focused only on the task at hand.

 

Tamaranis watched as the pathetic creatures streamed out of the woods completely ignoring his existence. He too was undead. They thought nothing of him. The situation only got more curious to the vampire as the rats were soon followed by small hosts of skeletons and zombies. Knowing he had but a precious few minutes before they crossed the field to engage the hostel he wanted to try to extend his senses beyond the undead to the one who controlled them before beginning to annihilate them. This would also likely be the source of magic that had penetrated his tower with the shared dream. This may be his best chance at discovering who he is.

 

****

 

Jirah stalked around the hostel walls trying to decide how best to handle the situation. He didn’t have much time to think on the subject when the sight before him stopped the thief cold in his tracks. Through the light fog that was rolling over the field between the hostel and tree line of the forest the grass rustled with what he knew had to be more of those abominable rats. What disturbed him more still was that taller more humanoid forms were also beginning to form within the shadows of the fog approaching with an uneven lumber.

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He was about to scale the wall to climb back into the Hostel when another figure caught his eye. Along the edge of the forest stood a dark figure. His hands waved within the air before him giving off the tell tale sign of a dark mage. Jirah knew it was rare to catch the master of such creatures unaware and couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Running along the length of the wall crouched he traveled until he was well out of the way of the coming onslought. He then sped with amazing agility across the field nearly as quietly as an elf. Tamaranis surely would have detected he was coming had his concentration not been completely extended into his magical probe.

 

***

The thoughts of Tamaranis’s mind swirled fighting the obvious veiling magics that had been put in place. Despite the strong guarded necromancy magics that were in place, the vampire was well matched against it. Just as he was feeling as if he had broken through most of the mental barriers he was knocked forward from behind a shooting pain ripping through the right side of his back. The pain was more annoying that painful and Tamaranis felt himself more shocked at having been knocked down than anything. Whoever it was got lucky to find his senses so concentrated elsewhere. He flipped from his stomach to his feet with inhuman speed landing in a crouch facing his opponent, Jirah, fully prepared to make quick work of him.

 

Jirah, although exhibiting an act of bravery in that moment as he came face to face with an opponent who controlled an undead army and seemed virtually unaffected by being stabbed with a dagger felt more like a moment of stupidity. Yet still determined, he held his ground.

 

“You might want to rethink this.” Tamaranis stated coolly giving the human male one chance to save himself. Normally Tamaranis might not have hesitated in counter attacking, however, it was entirely possible his attacker was part of Salinye’s hostel. His leaving the hostel to arrive back just as it’s about to be overrun is going to look bad enough without him killing one of her guests or worse, staff.

 

In response Jirah’s eyes suddenly grew wide as his face visibly paled. Only his fear was not from the vampire, instead he was looking beyond and above Tamaranis. The thief with lighting speed turned and fled as fast as he could back towards the hostel without taking time to move silently while Tamaranis for the second time in one night was pummled from behind into the dew-drenched grass.

 

***

 

Salinye called Lethia back into her study immediately upon Yui’s departure. The loyal servant arrived to find her mistress pacing back and forth distressed. “You called for me, Lady Celestialgrace?” She asked politely.

 

“Something is wrong.” Salinye stated stopping her pacing calling forth arcane symbols to her mind attempting to connect herself with the magical defenses she had gone to great lengths placing within and around her hostel. Within moments she realized why things hadn’t felt right. At that very moment there were no magical defenses in or around Custos Manor.

 

Salinye gasped her face draining of color as she said barely above a whisper, “how long?…Lethia! Sound the alarm!” No sooner were the words out of her mouth before the wizardess grabbed the sides of her head and dropped to the floor writhing in agonizing pain while Lethia was simultaneously thrown against the wall by an unseen force and knocked unconscious.

 

***

 

Annael had just reached that point where consciousness finally fades into the blissful slumber of unconsciousness when her entire body jerked her awake causing her to nearly fall from the tree she sat in. The fallen angel shook her head slightly annoyed and glanced up at the moon which appeared muted and hazy from the fog. I hate it when that happens. She thought to herself readjusting into a more comfortable position upon the branch. As she did so commotion in the field below caught her eye. She was just high enough in the tree to see over the wall and notice the many figures of varying sizes methodically approaching the hostel.

 

“Gyrfalcon.” She called out in as loud a whisper as she dared. She worried the half elf wouldn’t hear her, however, his ranger senses were ever alert that night. He ducked his head outside of his garden room as did Daryl. He tilted his head questioningly not liking the concern written upon her face. She didn’t speak again, merely motioned for him to come up the tree as she gazed over her shoulder beyond the wall the tree grew next to.

 

The ranger reached the tree in two strides his muscular body maneuvering himself up its branches to reach Annael’s side within a few moments. The fallen angel didn’t have to say a word to him. He simply followed her gaze out into the field his eyes widening in mild surprise.

 

“What is it?” Daryl whispered up from the base of the tree. Gyrfalcon and Annael looked down to answer when somehting black flicked through the night, and Gyrfalcon felt a tug at the edge of his cloak a split second before the limb shifted dangerously. The two clutched for support, then screamed as the entire top of the tree began to fall, straight down onto Daryl. Two lich’s floated over the wall in a vicious attack.

 

Undead of varying types and degrees of strength surged upon the outer walls of the hostel having only its physical structure as a barrier.

 

Meanwhile from his tower deep within the drow underworld a necromancer sat staring intently within his scrying mirror chanting in a dark tongue.

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Ayshela sat on the floor in the corner of her garden room, as far from the doorway as she could get. The room was lovely, but she was so engrossed in her thoughts she saw nothing but the events of the day.

 

WHAT in the Goddess's name was with Salinye? That she was deeply disturbed, Ayshela knew. Why? With a sigh, she had to admit she had no idea at all. That scene in the conference room.. Salinye had been so deeply disturbed as she left that without conscious thought Ayshela had taken two quick steps to follow her, to ask what was wrong, before realizing that her intrusion at that time would be not only unwise, but quite unwelcome.

 

She had spent part of the afternoon in the Infirmary, helping as best she could, and part of the afternoon out scouting the surrounding area. Unfortunately, she wasn't terribly familiar with this area, so while there seemed something subtly not right, she couldn't say there was anything *wrong*.

 

The sound of footsteps outside barely intruded upon her thoughts, as she knew well that the call of nature kept no hours. The sudden squeaking and scuffling snapped her out of her thoughts and she sat up straight to listen for a moment, to identify sounds. With a quick tuck and roll she was on her feet and striding over to grab her blades, cursing her stupidity in taking them off and swearing to SLEEP in them until she knew whatever was wrong had been taken care of and all was as it should be. Blades in place and at the door, she looked out hoping for moonlight. There was just enough light for her to be able to see - nothing. Stepping out her door she looked again, closer, but whatever had happened, whoever had been there, they were gone now. Odd.

 

Ayshela leaned back against the wall pensively. The day had been odd to begin with, but this was quickly becoming bizarre. She cast her mind back over the day again, hoping to find some way to fit the pieces together that made more than a small shred of sense - or even a small shred of sense, but there was none.

 

She was still leaning against the wall thinking, when she heard Annael softly call Gyrfalcon. She stayed where she was, not wanting to risk intruding, but was glad to see Gyrfalcon respond so quickly. She heard only a few murmurs before the whole top of the tree crashed to the ground!

 

Ayshela raced over to make sure they were alright, and started pulling branches aside to find Annael and Gyrfalcon, when she realized they were being attacked. Well! At least NOW she was on familiar ground! She waded in, kicking and slashing, trying to get the attacker's attention at least long enough for Daryl, Gyrfalcon, and Annael to get to their feet and free of the tree. From the sounds of it, these two would have to be dispatched quickly, there was trouble at the outer walls.

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Blackness….

 

Agonizing pain….

 

A virtual psionic tug of war…

 

If Salinye’s elven mind could be displayed as a large field shown from a bird’s eye view one would see a battle enraged between two sides. One consisting of many goodly races, knights on white horses, warriors in gold plate, holy magic swirling. The other consisting of things stolen from nightmares. Hellish steeds carrying black armored warriors surrounded by vicious damned creatures with the darkness of evil swirling about them.

 

Although the light side was holding their own, their weakness was in numbers. They had brought forth all their defenses. Every able body they had to fight for their cause was present on the field while hosts of reinforcements kept arriving on the enemies’ side slowly tipping the battle in their favor.

 

This was the battle for control and possession.

 

A light sweat began beading up upon the high elf’s forehead as she murmured whispered chants in an archaic tongue.

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In the infirmary, Merelas dozed deeply, his sleep undisturbed (as yet) by the evil that permeated other parts of the hostel. Though the healers had been very adept in their efforts, his wounds were grevious, and some would have to heal normally, in time. Ice, of course, harmed him greatly (as a fire-elf) and he would be hard pressed to deal with the wound in the shoulder that the blue mage had given him. It was only when the tree outside fell with an enormous clatter that he woke, startled, and found both consciousness and pain.

 

He hurried to the window that was near his hospital bed, and he saw the tree having fallen in the yard. People (some whom he knew, and some he did not) were fighting undead now, as they flew over, tunnelled under, or broke through the gate into the hostel. The alarm had been raised sometime during the beginning of the fight, and what had once looked like a sure defeat for the defenders of the hostel now was not so certain. Hostel guests and staff hurried to help defend the manor from the onslaught of undead which seemed to come from nowhere. The night aided the attackers, and Merelas realized with a start that he should be helping the defenders. Quickly, he donned his cloak, which had been laid on top of a chest at the foot of his infirmary bed. His sword belt and staff were both there as well, and he quickly placed the sword at its place on his hip, leaving the staff. It would be to cumbersome in this type of fight,he told himself, and strode quickly out the door to the infirmary. With a flourish that was improvised, he drew his sword, holding it firmly in his right hand. Brillemire (Brightflame), the sword given to him by his father, shone brightly in the lights of the hostel. He ran down the hall, and found that some of the undead had already forced themself into the main building.

 

"And so it begins," he said, taking a defensive pose, and beginning to call his first spell. With a swift gesture, the first of several zombies burst into flame, and the smell of burning, rotted flesh filled the room. I hope Lady Salinye will forgive the stench...,he thought, burning another zombie to ash. By the time he had incinerated the third, it became clear that this method was going to be much too slow to deal with the amount of zombies that were pouring through the door of the hostel. Briefly, he considered calling an inferno in the middle of the hostel, but realized soon that the damage to the building would be far too unnacceptable to their hostess, and if he could dispose of the undead without resorting to such measures, it should be done.

 

He set his face in a look of determination, gripped Brillemire with both hands, and charged. He only had a few dozen feet to run, as the Zombies had already advanced quite a ways towards him, and he covered it quickly. As he reached the first, it thrust at him, but the attempt was quickly blocked with a parry, and Merelas brought the sword up in an arc, decapitating the zombie. Allowing the arc to perform a full circle, he spun quickly, disembowelling several other undead around him, as they began closing in. Quickly, he realized that he was at a disadvantage, and began hacking his way out of the mob. A good corner will do nicely,he thought to himself, as he continued to spin, never allowing any side of himself to be still for too long. Catching sight of a corner that might suit his purposes, he changed strategies. Quickly, he stopped in mid-spin, and brought the blade around and up through yet another zombie, cutting him vertically down the middle. With a brief gesture and mental prod, the blade burst into flame, and he thrust it directly towards a zombie that had replaced the one he'd just cut in two.

 

With elven sense, he realized too late that his back had been exposed. He attempted in vain to spin, but the zombie had had just long enough to bury it's weapon in his back. Luckily, the thrust had been performed clumsily, and had missed the vital organs it had aimed for, striking Merelas instead in the side, but creating a deep wound nonetheless. With a cry of agony and anger, Merelas turned suddenly, bringing his sword around as he did so, knocking the sword from the zombie's hand. Angry now, Merelas crouched low, before springing up onto one foot and spinning 540 degrees, performing an about-face in the process. Again facing his corner, Merelas hacked his blade back and forth furiously, making a path for him to exit the mob, while leaving a swath of undead in his wake. Finally, he reached his goal, and placed his back in the corner, providing him with a position of natural defense. He calculated quickly and correctly, and formed a fireball in his hand. He launched it into the center of the mob of undead, obliterating several of them, and incapacitating several others.

 

Liquid fire burst in a ring when the fireball had detonated, but most of it had been absorbed by the undead-- that had been Merelas' calculations. His calculations were in haste, however, and he had forgotten the spherical form of a fireball. Molten lava had spewed upwards as well, and flame was now licking at the ceiling of the hallway.

 

"Blast!" he cried, and he closed his eyes, reaching out towards the small fire kindling on the ceiling. He found the source of the flame, and extinguished it, as only fire-elves can.

 

He heaved a sigh of relief, and opened his eyes, to see a sword making a wide swing at him by the hand of a zombie. The attack connected, and it sliced his left shoulder, severing tendons, and rendering that arm useless until some talented healers could attend it.

 

Merelas thought quickly, and blocked the next attack. He rolled his wrist, then, so that his blade was atop the zombie's, and thrust. It caught the abomination in the throat, sending him spluttering to the ground. As another attacked, he deflected that as well, and concentrated on the zombie's person, which promptly burst into flames, and turned to ash within minutes.

 

The fight went on like this for some time, Merelas dispatching countless undead, and suffering more and more wounds himself. Eventually, he lost his control of the flame, and his sword became a regular blade again. No longer could he engulf the zombies in fire, either... instead he would have to hack them away with his regular swordsmanship. And then he started to tire. There were twenty or so of the Zombies left here, and there was no way he could dispatch the remainder without dying himself in the process.

 

"Help! Help!" he called, screaming at the top of his lungs... his lungs. They burned, thirsting for air, and his breath came raggedly. He was exhausted, not only from the current fight, but the one before this as well. "Help! Help..." he called again, weaker this time, and his arm slowed. He looked to the door, and saw (miracle of miracles) a forms that were not undead, and hoped that they were here to help. He needed it.

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Ozymandias sat across the desk from Yui, his hands steepled in front of him. "So, she admitted to having contact with the Baelin Seal? ... that could explain a lot." He frowned deeply, worry creasing his brow. "The timing's wrong to explain the dream, though. There must be more going on."

 

The Huntress tilted her head, puzzled. "The dream? I haven't heard any-- Ozy!" She stepped forward, her eyes going wide as he grimaced, his hands going to his head. "What is it?"

 

"... a distress call," the Loremaster gasped, shooting up from his seat. "The Hostel's under attack!"

 

"Chikusho!" Yui cursed, her eyes darkening. "Tonight, of all nights? We need to find Salinye. Maybe we can clear the corruption before this goes any further!"

 

Ozy hesitated, but nodded, hurrying after the young woman as she ran from the room. "If it's not her, she may well know what's going on, at least."

 

The Huntress sprinted agilely through the Hostel's corridors, darting out of the way of the people scrambling back and forth in the chaos while Ozy kept close on her heels. The attack had begun in earnest, and an employee with sword in hand was screaming that the zombies had overrun the courtyard. Both of them fought the urge to go help with the body of the battle, but they didn't even need to look at each other to arrive at the same conclusion: if Baelin's magic was behind this attack, it would end it all to remove the corruption. Yui only hoped they could be in time to save Salinye as well.

 

She drew two weapons from the folds of her cloak, one a simple diamond arrow-head and the other a long, thin dagger made of jet-black ivory. The Huntress was cursing herself for not bringing her bow along, but she knew there wasn't time to return to the stable and retrieve it from her horse's saddle. Behind her, Ozy drew his sword, a strange-looking blade of Egyptian design, and drew together a couple of his mental and physical shielding spells. His wards snapped into place with a static crackle just before they both shoved their way through the door to Salinye's chambers.

 

"Salinye!" Yui skidded to a stop, taking in the sight of the elven sorceress curled in a ball on the floor near her chair, her head grasped in her hands, and her face a mask of pain and fear. Near the door, the young woman she'd called 'Lethia' lay crumpled on the floor, clearly either unconscious or dead.

 

The two archmagi glanced at each other, and Ozy nodded Yui towards Lethia while he went to Salinye. The room was a surprise for both of them, not so much because of the condition of its two occupants but because of the pattern in the magic that their mage-senses could see flooding the room. It wasn't the Baelin demon's magic, despite its obvious necromantic source and the evil intent inherent in it, nor was it emanating from Salinye. Instead, she was the obvious focus of the waves of dark magic around them, and she fought a battle that neither of them could see.

 

It took only a second for Yui to ensure that Lethia was not only alive, but not life-threateningly harmed. She chose to forego any healing cantrips in favor of spending her precious mana reserves on a spell that would hopefully be able to disrupt the necromancy around them. Leaving her weapons on the floor beside Lethia, the young woman straightened and began the intricate series of gestures that she had long ago designed, her voice a low murmur in the chaotic noise from the hallway outside.

 

Ozymandias knelt beside a writhing Salinye and touched his fingers against her temple, gasping as he tasted the terrors in her mind. The attack was psychological, and he could feel it reverberating with things already inside her thoughts and memories, an effect that amplified its power tremendously. With a thought, he cast the web of his mental shielding around her, dampening the outside effects of the attacking spell. It took a surprising amount of power to protect her, and even with the spell repelled, he could sense that the damaging echoes within her had easily enough might to assault her for hours. If the dim light that was her own, individual consciousness was any indication, his elven friend would not last that long. She needed some more hands-on help.

 

"I promise not to peek, Salinye," he muttered with a little, wry grin as he cast his consciousness into her mind. It was time to play the 'knight in shining armor', and in mirror to his thoughts, his astral self appeared on the dark, internal battle field in a bright-silver suit of plate mail and with a massive blade of pure, blue luminescence. With the might of a natural-born psion, he laid into the creatures around him. The battle would not last much longer.

 

As Ozymandias dealt with the threat from within Salinye's mind, Yui dealt with the one from without, her hands dancing through the air in graceful and complex motions while her voice complemented them with something akin to a delicate melody. The effect was a spell of her own design, part stolen from the Verdant Serenity, designed to counteract detrimental spells, and part stolen from the Ascendant Holy Word, giving the Serenity a knife's edge against spells of Necromancy. With the pattern established, the waves of magic radiated out from her small form, scrambling and consuming the dark magic around them. As the enemy weave started to unravel, Yui could feel additional power flow into it, the struggles of the mage who had created it. She answered in kind, drawing from her already-minimal mana reserves to intensify her spell in one, large burst. With a bright flash of light, her Holy Serenity shattered the pattern of the attacking spell, and it failed, ending the attack with anti-climactic silence.

 

Gasping for breath, Yui staggered back until she was leaning against the wall. She felt utterly drained and sank to the floor to rest for a moment, mumbling, "Well, that was unexpectedly difficult."

 

Across the room, Ozymandias emerged victorious from the battle with the darkness within Salinye. He felt the pressure of the hostile spell against his shields cease and glanced up in time to watch his companion settle onto her seat on the floor. He answered her mumble with a slight frown and a concerned glance at Salinye. She lay in his arms, limp with exhaustion but finally, blessedly calm.

 

"Yes. Yes, it was. And I think it's left us with an even bigger mystery than the one we started with, Yui."

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Like the many of the other members of The Pen, Tamaranis found himself in a situation more pressing than he had expected. Whatever had scared off his first attacker, he still hadn’t gotten a good look at it, had buried claws, or teeth, or something in his back. His armour was far from sufficient to protect him. He was being swung about from side to side with such violent force that hanging onto his sword was a challenge in itself. Immediately he discovered that trying to hold himself in position only gave his attacker a force to work against in trying to rip pieces out of him.

 

Dislodging it was proving difficult. It was physically stronger than him, and despite the stupid brutality to its fighting style he hadn’t been able to unbalance and throw it. Nor had he been able to tear himself free. In fact his efforts to escape had earned him punctured lungs which added to the problems inherent in properly casting spells while being shaken around like a rag doll.

 

Trying to draw the things life force out had been similarly unsuccessful. Either it was warded or it had a natural resistance, and Tamaranis didn’t favour the idea of letting it tear at him and just hoping its resistance would collapse before he was in several pieces.

 

That left the darkness. Tamaranis usually used it to fend off unfriendly spells, but he was quickly running out of options.

 

Nearly invisible against the natural darkness of the night, the protective shadows around him closed in until they had no effect on the light around him. Then blackness began oozing from the wounds on his back. At first the creature mauling him only noticed that this strange prey that stubbornly refused to die was suddenly much more slippery than the suspiciously small volume of blood escaping its wounds would account for. As it seemed to get harder to hold onto, it got colder. And then the somewhat physical shadows poured from the wounds in a volume that blood could never match. They caught against claws and teeth as they moved, pushing them out.

 

As soon as Tamarnis felt himself free he lunged forwards and away, spinning to get his weapon between himself and his opponent. As he moved he choked out a force bolt spell, making up for poor articulation with a little extra power behind it. Normally a silent but overwhelming shove, the inefficiency to this casting gave it a deafening bang and brilliant display of multicoloured light as well.

 

Tamaranis had never seen anything quite like what he now saw that he was facing. If it were to stand erect, for it seemed vaguely humanoid, it would have cleared twelve feet in height, but instead it walked on all four limbs, each of which ended in odd claws of varying lengths. It’s head was oddly shaped, beastlike, but human attributes were distantly apparent. It seemed as if either whatever twisted force had created this monster had simply gotten lazy towards the end and only given it half the skin it needed, or else it’s abundant muscle simply refused to be contained.

 

The exposed muscle and tendon twisted and writhed visibly, occasionally attempting to swallow up a patch of skin, or threading up through it. The patches of skin were mobile as well, however, flowing about it’s body, merging, dividing, and generally evading capture.

 

As Tamaranis watched, the monster’s jaw dropped an impossible distance from it’s head, revealing an outward facing array of mismatched teeth that waved almost gently back and forth, nearly as undefined as the rest of it’s body. It emitted both a low roar and an ear-piercing shriek in the same breath.

 

Tamaranis was very sure that if he had the opportunity to study the creature at leisure he could learn something useful. Whatever magic flowed through it’s veins, he didn’t recognize it. Unfortunate that the monster was so disagreeable.

 

It waited there, confused by it’s prey’s lack of screaming and death. Its eyes changed shape, literally narrowing into slits as it considered how best to go about killing it. Tamaranis was glad to wait a few moments, the damage it had inflicted on him was being stubborn about regeneraton. They stared at each other. Silence, then the creature gave another of it’s shrieking roars. More silence. Tamaranis considered taking to the air, but reasoned that would probably provoke an attack, and it looked a very fast monster.

 

Now Tamaranis took his turn to break the silence. He decided it was worth the risk to try a fairly complicated spell in his current condition, something that would end this immediately. Unfortunately his opponent recognized magic and surged forward, moving much faster than the enchantment could be completed.

 

The combination of the creature’s mass and momentum with Tamaranis’ considerable strength pushed his sword through it’s flesh nicely. The thrust was parallel to the creature’s body, entering just below the neck. The entirety of the blade disappeared into it, and the hilt collided so powerfully with it’s body as Tamaranis completed the attack that another shallow cut was produced.

 

The sword refused to come free however. The monster raised itself on it’s hind legs, howling as much in anger as in pain, and Tamaranis released his grip, not wanting to repeat the process of being batted around by it. Instead he cast a much shorter, simpler spell, one that sent a bolt of lightning into the center of the creature’s body without producing any light or heat. Its body jerked in response, then it lunged, leading with it’s bizarre mouth.

 

Tamaranis twisted out of the way, throwing a punch not at any part of the creature, but instead at the hilt of the sword embedded in it’s body. He connected, and was rewarded with a tearing sound and a claw that caught him in the chest and sent him tumbling.

 

Even before he righted himself, for the creature would be upon him by then, Tamaranis began casting another spell. Flames appeared in one hand, and rather than dancing upward like mundane fire, they reached out towards his opponent. He released the spell and it found its own way to its target.

 

The thing stopped mid charge, took the time to direct another of it’s strange cries at Tamaranis, and began tearing at its flaming flesh.

 

Tamaranis had seen numerous beings tear at themselves when exposed to this flame, and it tended to end in their demise, but he wasn’t taking chances on this one. He took the time this had bought him to cast a modified version of the eagle-eye spell. Rather than increase his ability to resolve objects at a distance, it amplified his sensitivity to the magical spectrum, revealing to him the complicated flow of magic through the creature’s body that prevented him from siphoning off it’s vital force.

 

The creature pulled chunks of flesh across it’s body, smothering flame in them as it merged and displaced the tissue that was already there, filling the holes that resulted. The writhing of the muscle over its whole body increased in intensity, and slowly it accomplished the near impossible, and extinguished the flames.

 

Tamaranis switched tactics. Using his limited ability at metamorphosis, he turned his hands to claws and produced his fangs. He launched an attack against the monster that seemed to equal it’s previous efforts at mindless brutality, but didn’t. The attack was fast and unrelenting, but it was not savage, it was calculated and precise. And for just a few seconds it worked with the advantage of surprise and put the creature on the defensive.

 

As Tamaranis had suspected, the monster had been actively holding on to his sword, and distracted as it was, he was able to pull it free. Kicking off the creature, he again called on the natural abilities possessed by vampires and ascended out of its reach, managing enough speed to avoid snapping jaws that probably would have cost him everything below one knee.

 

For a moment, Tamaranis thought that in managing to take to the air, he’d put himself out of his opponent’s reach. But the creature underwent a startling transformation. It remained standing on it’s hind legs, and the dimensions of it’s torso began to change. Muscle flowed down it’s arms, more than doubling their size, then they split into two different sets of limbs. The smaller arms rotated forward a little, more or less to where the original arms had been. The larger set moved backward and down a considerably greater distance, flattening out as they did so. Within seconds the larger set of arms had become an obscene pair of wings.

 

The creature launched itself after it’s opponent.

 

Tamaranis retreated upward, chanting yet more magic. The creature was actually gaining on him, and he didn’t have time to cast the killing magic he’d initially hoped to use from the air. The spell he used instead might have killed anything else, but by this point he was sure it wouldn’t do much more than stun when cast against this.

 

Even the second choice magic took too long, and Tamaranis had to alter his casting pattern at the last instant, adding precious seconds. The spell become completely verbal, and he parried several sweeps of the creature’s claws before it deliberately swung an arm so as to impale it on the sword. It underestimated the vampire’s strength, and he was able to pry the weapon free, which nearly severed the limb. It was far beyond reacting to injury however, and thrust its grotesque jaw forward.

 

The spell’s final syllable was completed. Tamaranis thrust his free hand into the centre of the monster’s body, activating it at point blank. A shimmering beam of force thrust the creature away, but this was not a simple force bolt. Forces that would have reduced a man to a bare skeleton in seconds tore pieces small pieces of flesh from the creature, spitting them away at terrific speed. Tamaranis kept his hand extended, investing mana to maintain the spell. The creature sped across the sky like a bloody comet.

 

But while considerable, Tamaranis’ mana reserves were not infinite, and he had not slept that day to regenerate them. He was beginning to feel the effects of the heavy magic use. The mana flow trembled and the spell lost potency. Tamaranis abandoned the spell for fear of using so much mana that he wouldn’t be able to cast something guaranteeing the creature’s death.

 

It disappeared into the forest canopy. The creature was proving not to be as stupidly savage as it had initially seemed. He’d be able to snuff out it’s vital force from here if he only had a line of sight.

 

It occurred to Tamaranis that he was probably never going to get a clear line of sight and a long approach out of this thing. Formulating a new plan of attack, he catiously descended to meet his foe.

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Gyrfalcon thrust aside another broken branch and swarmed to his feet, hearing Daryl spit curses and leaves beneath a pile of branches and Annael mutter a few things that wouldn't have been approved of in her former home as she sought to untangle her wings from the branches caging them without losing too many of her precious feathers.

 

Gyrfalcon kicked his way out of the fallen treetop, seeing that Ayshela was fighting two skeletal creatures in fine robes, who ducked back to avoid her slashes, weaving hands and muttering words with rotting tongues. Ayshela got in a good blow against one of them, only to have her blade deflect harmlessly high, as if it had met a shield, confirming Gyrfalcon's fears about what they were. Then one of the creatures pointed a skeletal finger at the fallen tree top and finished a chant. Gyrfalcon's eyes widened as a ball of fire came into existence.

 

"Daryl, Annael, get clear of the treetop, now!" the half-elf roared, charging the undead wizard, the fireball soaring over his shoulder. Annael looked up and her eyes widened in shock. She beat the air, black wings lifting her free of the treetop, leaving behind a few feathers to grasping branches, but she considered it well worth not being near another raging fire!

 

The fireball exploded among the tree branches, converting a large portion of the treetop to a raging bonfire. Daryl snarled a curse as he felt the flames lick at him, flinching away from the pain. Cursing, he brought his knee straight up, cracking the heavy branch that had been pinning him to the ground. He heaved himself to his feet, the weakened branch snapping, and hurled himself away from the burning pyre behind him. The angry werefox looked up, his golden eyes catching the fire light and reflecting red as he started towards the lich that Ayshela was battling.

 

Gyrfalcon growled and cleaved the air as he swung at the lich before him, sword deflecting off its defensive spells. The lich jerked suddenly, as a flaming sword clove its skull straight down to the spine. Annael landed behind it and wrenched her sword free before hammering it to the ground with a vicious chop. "I just cleaned my clothes and now they're covered in soot again!" she said, grumbling, her ever present butterflies swirling in agitation. Gyrfalcon chuckled, then turned and lifted his blade, letting a jumping lich impale itself on his katana. Grunting, Gyrfalcon tossed the dead weight aside and chopped down two more leaping ghouls.

 

"Damn, where are these things coming from?" Daryl snarled, giving the lich Ayshela was dueling a passing kick that broke its concentration, allowing Ayshela to take its head off. Without bothering to look back, Daryl leveled a heavy punch that smashed a zombie's skull in and tried to brush another one's weapon aside with his forearm. It didn't quite work, the weapon freeing a bright stripe of blood. Daryl recoiled in pain, then smashed the zombie with a heavy blow. "Their weapons are magical!" he said, eyeing the zombies with new respect as they moved to surround him, waving a variety of barbed and hooked weapons.

 

Annael, Gyrfalcon and Ayshela drove hard into the zombies' ranks, easily cutting through the clumsy creatures. Daryl liberated a halberd with a cruelly hooked and serrated head and proceeded to hammer a zombie into the ground with it, his strength allowing him to ignore subtle aspects such as finesse or using the blade of the halberd.

 

Looking around, Gyrfalcon grimaced as ghouls swarmed over the walls, and the gates gave way beneath the hammering press of undead flesh. The ground bubbled and boiled throughout the courtyard, skeletal hands dragging more undead from beneath the ground.

 

"This is not good." Annael muttered quietly, her butterflies fluttering in agitation.

 

"Tell me about it." Gyrfalcon said dryly. The half-elf nodded and pointed towards the far wall, where the old druid was holding his own with staff and spells. "First we grab everyone in the courtyard, then we retreat into the Hostel. Daryl, you go with Annael and help the druid. Ayshela, there's a pair of guests over there, lets go help 'em."

 

The four split up, fighting only when they had no choice, crippling enemies rather then pausing to finish them, knowing that to stop meant to be surrounded and overwhelmed.

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Jirah ran, terrified. This was entirely too much for his tastes... Undead, necromancers that refused to die, and horrendous demons...

 

And a conscience. Crap. He had promised himself that he would try to help the lady with her undead problems...

 

Well... there was nothing for it but to go see what he could do. Fortunate that Nilani and her orb were well shielded in his pouch. The undead would've come to him like iron filings to a lodestone, otherwise.

 

He slipped through the ranks of the undead, invisible to them. It was times like these that he truly appreciated his wards. Undead saw through magic, and magical detection was deflected around him... so he was safe.

 

The door to the Hostel was open, so he invited himself in, and tried to get his bearings...

 

He'd seen a sketch of this place once... so he set off at a sprint. This could take a while. As he crept through the halls, he found himself slipping into his old thought patterns... and struggling to keep his hands still as he hid in the shadows and allowed others to pass him unknowing, and undisturbed.

 

As he was beginning to despair of ever finding the right room, he heard voices from behind a door.

 

"Well, that was unexpectedly difficult."

 

"Yes. Yes, it was. And I think it's left us with an even bigger mystery than the one we started with, Yui."

 

After a moment of contemplation, he cracked the door open and found a young-looking woman lying on the floor, held by a gray haired old man in outrageous looking armour. As he fully opened the door, he saw a woman standing near the two. She would be "Yui".

 

Then his gaze found the woman that man was holding, once again. Something in the back of his mind twitched, and memories flooded forth...

 

"Aria..."

 

No... It wasn't her. It couldn't be. He'd seen her killed himself.

 

But... she looked just like her...

 

With an ice cold gaze fixed on the man holding her, he stepped fully into the room.

 

"What did you do to her?" He demanded. The words flowed from his mouth like liquid flame.

Edited by Alaeha
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"Saved her life, boy.", Ozymandias snapped. I don't know who you are, and we don't have time to find out. But I am the master of these lands and will see you dealt with if you harm them or any of their denizens. Be you friend, help Yui watch over the fallen", he fairly commanded the intruder. "Be you foe...more immediate threats must be dealt with," said he, gently laying Salinye on the floor as he did so. Even in such an awkward position, Jirah was grudgingly impressed at how regally the elder man was suddenly moving and at the sheer force of quiet authority in his words. And perhaps...repressed rage?

 

He had no further time to speculate even that briefly as the leather armored and blue-cloaked man surged forward, steely gaze set on a point beyond the younger man. He stopped short a step away from Jirah's side, however. This casual disregard for his alien prescence bothered the thief even more, even as he subtly moved a hand toward one of his finer daggers.

 

It was Jirah's turn to halt as he heard this possibly mad or very powerful man say, in an almost gentle voice, "Yui-chan. Will you..." Ozymandias got no further than this when he received a quick but emphatic nod from the Huntress.

 

"Go.", was all she said. His ire bayed for blood in fury and confusion; but only Jirah's confusion grew as this bizarre scene played out before him.

 

One thing The Pen Keep's shadow huntress knew that Jariah did not, was that the seemingly decrepit Loremaster could indeed be uniquely suited to help in halting this attack. The entire surreal tableau lasted no more than a few seconds after Jariah's enterance to Ozymandias' then much more hurried exit.

 

Jirah found himself with his eyes locked on now two mysterious women and his thoughts awhirl. Yui gazed steadily back, even as the sounds of battle poured in from outside and in.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Yui regarded the stranger in the room with hooded eyes, standing rather protectively between him and Salinye. In her hand, she held a strange, black dagger that looked severely inadequate for the situation, but there was no hesitation in her stance or her expression.

 

"I don't know who Aria is, but this isn't her," she said after a long silence, indicating the woman on the ground with her free hand. Jirah jumped slightly, surprised that she'd heard his mumbled word, but kept his silence. "Her name is Salinye."

 

Again, the assassin stayed quiet, watching the woman before him carefully. "I am Temae Yui." She waited for his response, her gaze deceptively calm.

 

"Jirah," he relented after a slight pause.

 

The black-cloaked woman nodded slightly, freeing him from her grey-green gaze long enough to glance down at her unconscious charge. "Well, Jirah, Ozymandias seemed confident that you're not an enemy. If that's true, then I could use your help in watching the door. If not, then I wish you'd attack already and let me defend my friend." She raised her face back to his, razor-sharp determination written on her features.

 

The man blinked, not quite expecting such plain dealing from her. She looked unassuming - petite and lightly armed and rather fragile. It was hard to imagine her defending herself, let alone the woman on the ground beside her, whether from him or from the undead monsters outside. He'd have to stay of course, to see to it that neither of them came to harm. Damn that conscience...

 

He nodded slightly, turning to close the door behind him. "I'm not part of the attack. I'll help you."

 

Yui breathed a sigh of relief that the man didn't get to see, for one moment, letting her exhaustion show. She glanced over against the wall, where Lethia still slumped, unconscious, but she was too reluctant to move that far from Salinye's side. "Jirah, the serving woman..."

 

He glanced up at her, then followed her gaze to the one person in the room that he hadn't noticed before. "Is she dead?"

 

"No," Yui shook her head. "But I doubt she'll be able to defend herself any time soon. Could you...?" She gestured, pointing to the floor beside herself and Salinye.

 

Jirah nodded, his senses alert despite his apparent calm. Of course, it'd be easier to defend the unconscious women if they were together. He walked over to Lethia and easily gathered her into his arms, bringing her across the room to the small woman's side. She watched the door and windows of the room warily while he laid his burden beside Salinye, clearly as aware of his moment of vulnerability as he was.

 

Still, as he stepped back and retrieved his daggers from his belt, he was rewarded with a genuine-enough smile. "Arigatoo."

 

She didn't seem to realize that whatever she'd just said was gibberish to him as she leaned down to carefully check both women's vitals. She also didn't seem to care that she had given him her back for the first time. Jirah watched her for a moment and then stepped back over to the door, cracking it enough to glance into the corridor outside. Yui had clearly decided he was trustworthy, and at the moment, he had no reason to refute that conclusion.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Ozymandias ran along for all he was worth. His lungs pumped like bellows and his sword flashed in the night, as he decapitated a zombie here, sent one tumbling down stairs there- knowing all the while it wasn't enough.

 

With this many Elders in place to repulse the attack, we should have done it by now, he thought grimly. This is serious. This plan may be the only way...but I hope not. Seeing rapidly he'd never reach his objective this way, Ozymandias veered suddnly in a corridor, leaped at a window, put his arms over his face, and sent himself and a thousand glass shards hurtling into the battle below.

 

The undead horde surrounded him obligingly.

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Even as the strands of dark magic untangled themselves from the intricate weave of her own mind and magic-lingering darkness remained. The assault from outside of her seemed to have stopped, and the great silvery knight that had appeared upon the battle for possession of her mind had ensured their victory. However, the necromancy had unleashed the demons of her memories to run rampant within her. Suddenly behind the flutter of her eyelids as she fought to find consciousness she was once again in the dungeons of Teltaleth. She could smell the dank of the dungeons, hear the howls of agony echo through the under dark. Crouching she hissed at her captors “What do you want with me?”

 

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

 

Yui and Jirah both started in surprise as Salinye suddenly rolled over leaping up into a crouch. Her eyes were unfocused, her vision clouded and her hands began to radiate with a light blue aura as she spoke at them in the dark tongue of the drow. “What do you want with me?”

 

Jirah shot a surprised questioning glance to Yui who sat up. “She’s confused.” Returning her eyes to the elf’s she spoke clearly and carefully while slowly getting into a crouch of her own. “Sali-Chan.” Salinye looked between the two the aura of blue light growing stronger around her pale hands. She lightly shook her head as momentary confusion flashed through her eyes as reality tried to sneak through the veil of clouded memories.

 

Salinye answered with more dark speech a blond strand falling into her deathly serious face. “I’m going to have to do something before she sends lightening ricocheting around the room.” The huntress said quietly without turning to Jirah. The thief was unsure of what to think still torn between protecting the wizardess and protecting her from herself. Yui-Temae missed little when she was in the mind to observe. It was a subtle thing, the tightening of the mages shoulder muscles that indicated to the huntress it was time to strike or be struck.

 

In one quick and smooth move the huntress leapt slamming her petite body into Salinye’s crouched form toppling her onto her back effectively pinning her to the floor. “The huntress wasn’t large in stature, and her energies were quite drained. However she had the element of surprise on her side. That coupled with the mages own drained strength made interrupting her casting a simple chore. “Sali-Chan. It’s Yui. You’re confused and need to clear your head.”

 

Salinye closed her eyes in obvious fear and frustration as she spat phrases in dark speech out at the huntress. Jirah moved standing over the two women not sure who to aid should a struggle occur.

 

 

(To be continued...I just need to sleep first. :0))

Edited by Salinye
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  • 2 weeks later...

“She’s speaking in drow. She originally asked what you want with her, followed by idle threats.” Jirah said surprising Yui with his knowledge of the dark language.

 

“You speak Drow?” She asked suspiciously.

 

“Some.” The thief smiled. “All in the line of work.”

 

Salinye lay still her chest heaving with every worn out deep breath. She was too tired to fight or struggle anymore. This came as a relief to Yui who held her in place using every last ounce of her own physical strength. “Salinye, open your eyes. Look at me.” She said out of breath. Salinye shook her head as if trying to physically clear the mental haze within her mind. Small wisps of reality began to seep through as Yui’s voice weaved in and out sometimes reaching her mind with the sweet melody of the huntress’ tired tone and sometimes with the distorted darkness of the drow tongue.

 

“Salinye. Open your eyes.” The phrase echoed through her mind until at last she had the sense to understand the suggestion and comply. The first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was blurred hues of gold and caramels contrasted against white. Salinye blinked repeatedly attempting to clear her vision. After a few moments the gold and white hues merged into the tired form of Yui-Temae sitting on top of her looking into her face worried.

 

She looked from Yui into the face of a man she didn’t know as the reality of the night came flooding back to her in an overwhelming wave. “My hostel…” She muttered trying with little success to sit up. “Yui, I’m fine. Please let me up.”

 

The huntress narrowed her eyes searching Salinye’s face for any hints that lingering dark magic affected her current decisions and actions. Whether she was convinced the mage was back to herself or not, she decided her options were limited and heaved herself to the side allowing the elven woman to sit up. “Lethia.” Salinye muttered crawling to the girl’s side surprised to find the stranger at her side offering aid.

 

“The girl will be alright, Salinye. She’s just unconscious. We’ve looked her over.” Yui stated once again propped upon the wall.

 

Looking over her shoulder she cast a quick glance over him. “I don’t have time to find out who you are. Just tell me if you’re on our side or not so I know if Yui and I need to kill you.”

 

Jirah raised an eyebrow at the weakened mage and barely refrained from laughing at her threat. “Well, I’m not on the side of the undead overrunning your hostel.”

 

“WHAT?” Salinye cried as if hearing the statement itself was painful. Trying to stand, the mage only succeeded in crashing back down to the floor once more. Reluctantly she accepted the thief’s help. Jirah flung open the door as a commotion was heard within the corridor. Holding onto his arm, her balance steadily returning to her they stepped into the hallway coming face to face with Gyrfalcon, Daryl, the grumpy older druid, Annael and Ayshela. Each had their various weapons drawn.

 

Salinye’s eyes were drawn to Daryl, particularly to the weapon he carried.

 

“Are you guys alright?” Gyrfalcon asked as a large bang was heard from somewhere on the outskirts of the hostel.

 

Salinye ignored his question asking Daryl, “Why do you have a drow crafted weapon?”

 

Daryl looked at the weapon in disgust. “Well, that explains a lot.” He said breaking the long hook bladed weapon in half so that it was more the length of an axe. This motion caused the wizardess to recoil in surprise. His unexpected strength brought a brief flash of her nightmare to her mind's eye. Jirah narrowed his eyes at the werefox but kept silent for the moment.

 

“I thought I heard voices.” Merelas said from behind her followed by Adrynna. Another large crash could be heard.

 

“I don’t know where the others are, but Yui and Lethia are in my study. Let’s gather in there for the moment until we can figure out what our best move would be. I need briefed on the situation. I have no idea what’s happening out there.” She slowly walked unaided into the study.

 

“Where’s Ozy?” Yui asked once they had all gathered within the study.

 

“I haven’t seen him.” Gyrfalcon replied. The rest shook their heads indicating they also didn’t know. The huntress creased her brows worried.

 

“Alright…I don’t know who sent this attack or where it’s coming from or why they are equipped with magical drow crafted weapons. However, the answers to those questions are going to have to remain unanswered for a while. Right now, I’d love to hear any suggestions as to how we can end this onslaught….And quickly” Salinye added looking out the window at the overwhelming numbers of undead.

Edited by Salinye
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"Lady Salinye... I'm here, and I don't know what to do about the situation outside... however, I am prepared to deal with things here while the greater minds about think of a solution," Merelas said, taking on a new air, with more formality, and more strength than he truly had.

 

Reaching beneath his robes, he pulled Chrissiannia's Jewel out from underneath his red garments, and clutched at the crystal. The swirl of red inside it glowed faintly, and the fire-elf closed his eyes.

 

I shall lend you the power of healing. You yourself, fire-elf, are rejuvenated... and if you truly care for the rest of these people, you will find that you can tend to them as well.

 

Merelas opened his eyes, and as the artifact had promised, found renewed strength. Quickly, he looked around the room, and saw the hostess herself. The half fire-elf strode over to her, and clutched the jewel once more, closing his eyes, and laying his free hand upon Lady Salinye.

 

This woman took me into her hostel without a second thought. She cared for me, and had her staff heal me. I owe her a debt, but more than that, I owe her my thanks, and my loyalty. She has it... and may I now display this new friendship by giving her strength and peace.

 

Not knowing if his silent prayer to the jewel would actually work or not, he opened his eyes tentatively, and saw a faint green light glowing about his hand on Salinye's shoulder... slowly, he could feel the energy passing into her, and wondered if it would do any good...

 

Once he saw that he could help Salinye no more, he passed on to the next member of the group without a word, and as they discussed possible solutions with urgency, he provided a sense of calm and collectiveness... silently willing them to come up with a plan soon, and physically healing them to be able to execute it.

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