CHAPTER SIX: SEARCH for the ROD

Raeython

*Raeython picks up the stilled form of Ravenwind, and heads over to the temple of Torm. As he is carrying her for aid, he can't help but think about the current turn of events. They have yet to begin their quest, and they have already had the ring stolen, and battled undead demons. The limits of their endurance are already being tested, and the quest is not yet even begun. Raeython is musing upon those gloomy thoughts as the temple of Torm approaches in the distance. Raeython walks into the temple, and up to a nearby acolyte.*

 

"One of your own has fallen and requires assistance. Please see that she gets the attention she needs. I will wait in your garden."

 

*As the acolyte takes Ravenwind off for healing, Raeython seats himself in their small garden and broods about events to come.*

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind slowly awakened, staring up at a familiar marble ceiling. The dispensary at the Temple of Torm. With a groan, she tried to sit up. And landed back on the pillows, dizzied by the effort. "Easy there, young chosen," a cleric's soft voice cautioned her. "We have cleansed the disease from your body, but you will yet be weak a while. The evil of it was. . . most resilient."

 

"My companions?" It was an effort to speak.

 

"The noble ranger who bore you here awaits you in the garden--"

 

"But what of the Muse?" she demanded. "Her wounds were sore!"

 

She again struggled to get up. This time, she managed to sit, however waveringly. "Did they retrieve the artifact?" she demanded. "Or have I failed Torm once more?"

 

"Aye, they did recover it, with your aid." the cleric attempted to sooth her. Brushing him aside, Ravenwind stood, and hauled her splint mail over her head. "I have a duty to them, and to Torm. I must not fail in that!"

 

"Wait!" The cleric's voice was lost on her as she strode out, narrowly missing a pillar, and checking the rest of her equipment as she went.

 

Out in the garden, she paused a moment, regarding Raeython, who had not seen her yet. The red-haired servant of Torm sighed. Why, she wondered, the slightest hint of disobedience in her thoughts, had her god and his goddess placed them on this path? Banishing the tremor of doubt, she stepped forward. "My thanks, friend," she said, clasping his forearm. "Any debt you might have owed me from the Temple of Bacchus is far overshadowed by the service you and the Muse have done for me! Shall we now go to wherever the Muse might be, that we might tend her wounds, and see where our next steps should lead?"

 

Albanian Vole

*Suddenly from the shrubbery nearby comes a rustling noise, followed shortly by the appearance of a small vole-like creature, which turns out to be a vole. He spies Raethyon resting, his boots scattered on the ground, his socks steaming in the sunlight. Raethyon spys the brave rodent: "Aagh not you again, I thought our battle had been fought and won by the forces of the light". Nevertheless, our brave furry hero approaches the bold warrior and speaks thusly "eek eek eek eek eek". What say you, Raethyon?*

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind stopped in mid-stride. What was with this part of the realms, and its ever-increasing number of vocal rodents? she wondered. Had some mage let loose a tide of intelligent vermin? Would there be Slovenian Shrews, Malaysian Mongooses, or even, (she shuddered) Kenyan Kangaroorats next?

 

Raeython

Raeython looks down upon the Vole and says:*

 

"I thought you were dead, but I was obviously mistaken. What are you up to grand Vole? Perhaps you wish to tour the wide world. I know, you can be my animal friend. You can stay in one of my quick inventory slots, and every time I start to rant about something, you can join in with eeks and squeals and you could jump at my enemy’s eyes....no wait, that's a stupid idea and would never work.”

 

Albanian Vole

Alas, Ravenwind, I am fated never to be able to reveal my true identity for otherwise how will I battle evil?

 

Actually, how will I battle evil?

 

I must go now, but rest assured when you all (especially Raeytheon) least expect it, I will return!!!

 

Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!

 

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind and Raeython retraced their steps to the Rusty Sword. "Methinks I should sublet a room from Che on a monthly basis, rather than rent, over and over again," Ravenwind groused.

 

On the wooden sidewalk outside the tavern, they found the Muse slumped, the wound in her shoulder bleeding afresh. Raeython looked stunned, and slapped a hand to his forehead. "I assumed Ultima was bring up the rear with her!" he exclaimed, and reached for a flask at his belt with which to revive the woman, even as Torm's handmaiden prevailed upon the patience of her god for yet more healing this day--but this time, for another than herself.

 

Once the Muse had regained consciousness, they helped her into the Tavern, and ordered a full meal. Declining an orc's offer of grog, they hung their travel-stained cloaks on Dravin's motionless form, covering up the scroll he had been studying for so long.

 

"Where's Che?" Ravenwind wondered.

 

"And why are there turkey feathers on this table?" Raeython wondered as well.

 

Palladium Muse

Muse sits up a little straighter and rolls her arm around, wincing at the tenderness in the shoulder. Likewise, she studied her palm, where the holy symbol of Torm was burned into it, a fixture not likely to fade any time soon, if at all.

 

"Your healing is appreciated," she says to Ravenwind. "Oy, do I have a headache. Evil gods playing with your brains will do that. Now all I need is rest. An hour will do. Nap is a wonderful thing. Then we can be off!"  She rests her head on the table and sleeps.

 

Ravenwind

"What must one do to get service around here?" Ravenwind muttered, standing at the bar. Finally, one of Che's daughters emerged from the kitchen, her short dwarven beard a bit mussed, and her eyes red-rimmed. "What passes here?"

 

Cheran sniffled. "Papa's disappeared!" She blew at her nose with the sleeve of her tunic. "He went with that talking turkey thing to the temple of Elrick, and he hasn't come back for days!"

 

The adventurers stiffened. Giselle snapped her fingers. "So THAT's why there's no tequila around here!"

 

 

 

At the temple of Elrick, in the meantime. . .

Che

 Braxis returns again, with a smile on his face. Partly, remembering the thoughts of the turkey, but more so directed at his own accomplishment. He places at the feet of Che, an odd looking pair of boots, and explains, "The scry is successful, and I have located your wife. She is indeed in Tethyr. What her reasons are or how she arrived there, I do not know. If you wish to find her just put on the boots and click the heels three times. You will be transported near to where she is. Do what you must, and when you wish to return here, click another three times. It is upon your return that the magic of the boots will be drained."

 

Che picks up the boots for examination. "Aye, Braxis, ye be a fine one knowin' the magiks and the deities, but a cobler yers not. Do yers 'ave anything with less o' a heel on it?"

 

Braxis, relieving the look of consternation upon his face, rolls his eyes calmly in the direction of the turkey. "I'm sorry, my good dwarf, this is a 'one size fits all' product." The turkey lifts the tips of his wings across it's beak, as if to hide a giggle.

 

Che sits on a chair and removes his own boots. Donning the magical footwear, he rises and grunts, "Hmph. Not as warm as me own puppies, but Tethyr be nice this time o' year anyway. Well, turkey, me's a probably gonna need yers help since ye recently passed through that region."

 

The turkey rises to the positive acknowledgement, and skips a short flight into Che's arms. The turkey continues to flap its wings trying to find some comfort in the arms of the dwarf.

 

"Quit a messin' up me beard, and a just sit on me shoulder. Me's a gonna call yer Herman, just fer somethin' to call yer." Herman perches himself by Che's helm.

 

Braxis turns away, and reaches toward a table to retrieve and ring. "This adornment..." (click, click, click) "...will give you the illusion of a fine Tethyr human." Turning back, Braxis realizes that he is alone.

 

Che

POP!

 

Che and Herman are transported by the boots made by Braxis. They are now deep within Tethyr territory. Herman exclaims, "Weren't you supposed to wait for your illusion before we came?"

 

Che responds with silence. His eagerness to find his wife got the better of him. But there is no time to cast blame or feel shame. The dwarf analyzes the area around him and Herman. They are beside a small country road which leads to a humble tattered cottage. Squinting towards farm he sees two people. A man and a woman. From this distance Che cannot recognize either of them.

 

Che whispers to Herman, "For some a reason me bird, me's smells somethin' a foul."

 

"Foul or fowl? Because I can explain the latter," replies Herman.

 

 "Be quiet. Here's a what we's a gonna do. That musta be me wife there yonder. I can no tell from 'ere. Herman you's a go near to where those two talk. See if you can a notice if the woman a carries the gauntlet that a matches me own."

 

Herman understands the simplicity of the task but doesn't comprehend the tactic of the plan. What does Che fear so much?

 

Ravenwind

While waiting for the Muse to awaken from her snooze, Ravenwind decided to help the dwarven maidens with their house keeping. Removing their cloaks from off of Dravin, she studied the frozen mage. "Aactcho!" she sneezed.

 

Without further ado, she lifted the rigid form, which was bent into a seated position, and carried him outside. Leaning him against a post, so he maintained his L-shaped position without placing his posterior on the ground, she wiped her hands clean of the cobwebs clinging to him. "They should've named this place the Dusty Mage, not the Rusty Sword," she muttered, walking back into the tavern. A moment later, clouds of dust buried the mage even further as she began sweeping out the tavern itself, still waiting for the Muse to awaken.

 

Raeython

*Raeython is still lost in thought. He has been pondering the situation for the last few hours. The quest is quickly getting out of hand. We have hardly even begun and already the ring was stolen, and we almost lost 2 (if not all) of our party members in trying to get it back. The danger's surely growing, and it shows no sign of slowing and this ale is really flowing; I want more. An ill wind I feel is blowing, and the rooster started crowing and there is no way of knowing what's in store (Hee hee hee). Raeython knows he can't abandon his quest, but perhaps it would be best if he continued on his own. But, if he does continue on alone, what would be his chances of success? Then again, what would the chances be even with his comrades in arms? Yes, Raeython is in a foul mood indeed. He really likes his current companions, and they have their own reasons for going on this quest. He lowers his head and grasps his unicorn head symbol; perhaps Mielikki will show him a sign.

 

Ravenwind

In the distance, Raeython heard the silence after the Muse's pronouncement broken by the tintinnabulation of the bells, the bells in the temple district. Perhaps, he thought, this was his sign. Palladium put a comforting hand of Cheran's shoulder, and the dwarven maid began to cry harder.

 

"What talking turkey?" she asked.

 

Another of Che's daughters, the half-human one, stormed out of the kitchen with a scowl on her face. Ravenwind noticed in passing the nicks along her cheeks, and guessed that the girl was not overmuch fond of all aspects of her half-dwarven heritage. "Cheran, the orcs are in the distillery! Get down here and help us keep them from breaking everything!"

 

Cheran swallowed hard, gave the adventurers an appealing look, and ran for the kitchen, grabbing a hefty broom as she did.

 

Palladium Muse

Muse raises her eyebrows at Ravenwind, only to be met with a similarly bemused look and a shrug. Raeython just shakes his head.

 

"Talking turkeys," he says. "This is the strangest tavern I've ever been in."

 

"Agreed," Muse replies. "Well, mystery for another time. I'll be with you in an hour."

 

Settling down in her chair, she gets comfortable, then mutters a brief incantation and falls into a light sleep.

 

Che

Herman trots briskly towards the far off cottage. He attempts to act like a turkey by pecking at the ground, raising his head, and offering the occasional gobble. As he approaches unnoticed, he sees the woman of his inquiry. She is indeed dwarven, but it is obvious that she has been beaten. The man, a large human, is directing her to gather rocks to clean the garden. Suddenly Herman sees that a gauntlet, very similar to Che's, is wrapped around the belt strap of the man. Herman decides that Che was right, something is foul here and returns back to the dwarven fighter.

 

Recalling his sightings to Che, Herman questions their next step.

 

"Did ye see anyone else in the vicinity Herman?" The turkey shakes his head in a negative response..

 

"Aye, tis a time fer some Cheism." Herman ponders the relevance of such a strange response, but decides to entrust himself to the wisdom of the dwarf. Che reaches into his pouch and reveals a coil of string with a small hook at one end. He then dawns his rusty sword and touches the tip to the hook. After sheathing the sword he places the string and hook in front of Herman. "Take this a string with you Herman. Me's a goin' to confront this human. As me's approaches 'im ye hook the string to his boot and lead the other end towards me."

 

Herman nods in agreement and clamps upon the string with his beak. With clomping footsteps, Che begins to approach the farmhouse.

 

As Che makes a direct approach to the human male, Herman circles around to the flank, desperately trying not to drop the string. The dwarven woman cries out, "Che, my love, go back, tis a trap!"

 

Che recognizes the scratchy tone of his wife's voice. "Helena, me's dear, ye's be alright?" Before a response could occur, the human slaps Helena with the back of his hand. She lay unconscious. The human draws a cross bow out from under his cape and aims at Che. "That be far enough there Che.  Raise thy arms so I can see them, and make no moves towards your infamous rusty sword."

 

Che ceases his forward movement and lifts his hands above his head. He wonders how this human knows about him and his sword. "Aye, me's do what's ye want, but tell me 'uman, what be yer reason fer this?'

 

"My name is Sondar, son of Clavlek, the man which you murdered. Today is my day of revenge."

 

"Aye, Clavlek was a good man. And, aye me's did end the life o' yers father. But that was many years ago, and in the midst of a brutal but fair battle. War leaves many to die on the battlefield, but peace should bring a better resolve to others. Yers should a be a proud o' yer papa fer bein' true to what he believed. Clavlek fought like a true warrior, and me's still 'ave a scar on me leg to prove it."

 

"My father should have aimed for your heart and not your leg."

 

"Maybe so, laddie, but the past connot a be changed. But tell a me somethin', why's a bring the innocence o' me wife into this?"

 

"Knowing you to be both an excellent fighter and businessman I had to use that against you. I had always known of the gauntlets of marriage that you and your wife possessed but if I kidnapped her earlier, both you and your clan of orcs would hunt me down. With your recent acquisition of your tavern, seeking your wife would split your forces and you would come alone."

 

"Aye, me's alone, and it seems that yers a outwitted ol' Che." During this dialogue, Herman gained access to the back of Sondar's boot. As per Che's direction, the turkey delicately but securely fastened the hook to the boot. With the string still in his mouth, Herman ran towards Che, unravelling the fine thread.

 

Palladium Muse

Muse stretches slowly and looks around with a yawn, the others were now in various stages of winding down, mostly with a good meal, good drink, and quiet conversation. Signalling a barmaid and asking for wine and stew, she stands and works out the rest of the kinks.

 

"Well, are we ready?"

 

Ravenwind

Ignoring the swishings and thumpings and the occasional crashes coming from the cellar, where the dwarven lasses were battling the orcs in the distillery, Ravenwind leaned on her broom and smiled to see the cleanliness and order she had wrought upon the tavern.

 

The Muse awakened, and stretched. Then jumped, as the floorboards buckled under her, and an orc's head protruded for an instant between her boots. "Sorry, ma'am," it apologized, before she stepped on its head and sent it back down to the tender mercies of Che's daughters.

 

Raeython twiddled his ring restively. "We need to be getting going," he said curtly.

 

"Yes," the Muse agreed. "The fabled Rod of Zantalya awaits us."

 

The ranger froze, the meaning of her words coming clear. Ravenwind, who had been unconscious when the woman had at last interpreted the scroll found in the temple of Set, likewise stilled.

 

Che

The string's end reaches to the base of Che's boot. Herman eyes Che, then Sondar, and is befuddled on what to do next. Che says, "Well, Sondar, what be yers next action o' yer plan?"

 

"Tis the moment to relieve the burning vengence that burns within my heart. Your death Che, will assure that." Rendering his crossbow to proper aim, Sondar fiendishly smiles.

 

Herman desperately pleads, "Che, do something, please!" Che glances at the bird and slyly casts a wink, "OK."

 

Che delicately lifts the toe of his boot and taps the end of the string. Within a blink, a myriad of events occur. A spark is ignited at the hook attached to Sondar's boot. This illumination speedily travels along the string towards Che. Upon its arrival, the dwarf's rusty sword magically unsheathes itself and flies back along the string unerringly planting itself within the chest of Sondar. Herman looks in astonishment.

 

Che lowers his arms and proceeds to the silent and lifeless body of the human villain. The dwarf pulls his blade out, "Hmph, me's don't like a messy sword." After cleaning the sword, Che gives Herman

 the directive to gather the string and the gauntlet from Sondar.

 

Helena, regains herself and brushes the dirt off of her face. She runs to Che and embraces him. "Thank you, my love, thank you. I be a bit shaken but everything is fine now." Che reponds with an awkwardly planted kiss upon his wife as he tries to wipe a tear from his eye. He then gathers his string and returns it to his pouch.

 

"Herman, we's a should be a returnin' now. You keep a the gauntlet to show Braxis o' yer involvement here."

 

Herman coddles the gauntlet within his beak and flies to the shoulder of Che. "Watch me beard, bird!"

 

With the turkey perched in place, Che spits some feathers from his mouth and firmly grabs the hand of Helena.

 

Click, click, click.

 

Che, Helena, and Herman return to magnificent waiting room of Braxis. "Where we be, husband?" asks Helena.

 

"Tis be where we transported from. We's be safe now. Where's Braxis?"

 

Herman shuffles off of Che's shoulder and assumes the responsibility of searching. In a short while he returns shrugging his wings. Che sits and removes the once magical boots, then recovers his own and puts them on. He writes a note for Braxis and places it on a table. Helena's gauntlet is place upon the note.

"Me's will settle up with Braxis later. Herman you may accompany me back to me tavern or wait a 'ere."

 

Herman responds with the copying linguistics of the dwarven kind, "Me's would love yer friendly company til we's a get a reply 'rom Braxis."

 

Che turns to Helena, "Why's the bird talkin' a so funnies like?" She responds with a shrug.

 

The three of them leave the temple and travel to the home of Helena. Che bids a short and loving adieu to his wife. Helena again thanks him for his dwarven love. Che and Herman head back to the tavern.

 

Raeython

*Raeython listens...the bells...the church bells...yes of course...why didn't I see this before; it all makes glorious sense now (sorry, just couldn't resist )! Raeython looks over to PM softly snoring at the corner table. He muses to himself (no pun intended this time) that indeed he had his answer. He does need his companions. Well, perhaps not need, but he does enjoy their company. Looking at PM resting in the corner without a trace of concern about her wellbeing. Of course this is a tavern run by a respectable citizen, but there are thieves around. Yet PM is resting, confident that her companions will look after her. Raeython eases himself back into his seat, and orders a mug of warmed cider. Yes, it is definitely nice to have companions, if only for a little while.

 

Palladium Muse

"The thieving was not coincidental," Muse said, sipping at her wine. "It was meant to catch us off guard, and hopefully destroy us before we began looking for the rod in earnest. We're not the only ones who want it, and know it's out there.

 

"According to the scroll, there is an alliance forming among the dark members of all pantheons, as the rod will grant them the power they so desire, to enslave the neutral gods so that they may do true war on the gods of light.

 

"It has gone so far that even a few of the more...zealous gods of light are looking for the rod towards that end as well."

 

Her eye fell on both Ravenwind and Raeython. "Anyone finding the rod is bad. Anyone keeping it is worse. What say you?"

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind's hands clenched, hard, on the broomstick before her, and she laid it aside with great care. She watched Raeython's expression for a moment, but the ranger revealed nothing in his eyes or face--but his hands trembled.

 

Lifting her head up, Torm's handmaiden spoke. "I have been given my task, Muse. Torm has instructed me to aid Raeython in his task, to guide him to this rod, as his goddess has instructed him. But know," and her voice deepened with sorrow, and she looked at the ranger with all the agony of confession, "that in the instant anyone with any evil or desire to use this rod for his own sake takes it up, I must and will kill him." She paused. "Or her." Taking a deep breath, she continued, as though every word was a great labor. "In sober truth, I would that this burden were not mine, but so it is. If there were any way to destroy the rod, it would already have been done, I much fear. Torm has tasked me with finding the most just decision. I hope I can make it, before--" She cut herself off.

 

Ravenwind paused, sweat beading on her face. The enormity of revealing so much to these fellow adventurers was not lost on her. "Before what?" the Muse asked, but the warrioress shook her head emphatically, not wanting to speak more.

 

"I can guard whomever wishes to enter the Abyss," she finally, her voice weary. "But there will be a price. And who is to say that this rod is, indeed, what we think it is? The gods dice with our lives, my friends. With our lives."

 

 

Raeython

 *Raeython looks on his two proven companions. His whole body is trembling, as if he is wrestling with some inner demon. He turns towards PM and Ravenwind, and his normally quiet yet commanding voice begins to waver as he speaks:*

 

"I'm not sure how much I can tell you, as I violating a sacred trust by telling you anything at all. I'm sure I will be in for a terrible retribution when I get back to the grove, but I feel there is much you should know before we continue this quest.

 

I was once a member of the most secret 'guild' of the ranger and druid community. There is a time of troubles descending upon our land, and much of it has been foreseen by our gathering. Deep in the heart of every forest, yet found in no existing forest, is a 'grove' of 'trees'.

 

Whenever a ranger or druid dies, a portion of them that is the forest, goes into this grove. A portion of their very essence is gathered into the trees, living on for all eternity. The trees are a link between all that is living in this world, and some of what is living in all worlds. The greatest of our orders tend to this 'grove'. The trees are alive and sentient, though not as you and I are aware. They exist on our world, as well as any world where life exists.

 

Once, a long time ago, I was the defender of the heart. It was my solemn duty to protect these trees, as well as to serve them as I might. I served for many years, before I felt I had to leave and rejoin the active world."

 

*At this point Raeython draws his longsword Forest Friend.*

 

"This blade was given to me the day I accepted that sacred trust. The day I left to rejoin the world, I turned my blade back in. The next day I awoke to find it once again sheathed at my side. I did not know what it meant at the time, but I think now I do.

 

Some of the most ancient and wise of the rangers and the druids devote the remainder of their lives in 'communicating' with these trees, and ensuring that their wishes are heeded. From what I understand, it is a difficult task, because these trees are not alive in our sense of the word. This practice has been going on for centuries.

 

Bear with me, for now I will tell you how this bears on our current situation. The trees have foreseen a time in the near future when the rod of Zantalya will again come into our world. This is an event of great concern due to the vast power of the rod. No matter who gains the rod, they will become a plaything to the whims of the rod. Not only is the rod sentient and evil, but an artifact of such enormous power will certainly draw the attention of the gods themselves. The reemergence of the rod can only lead to the destruction of thousands of people.

 

The trees believe they have found a way to destroy this rod. The ancients of heart have constructed a case I can put the rod in that will contain its powers for a time. It is my intention to bring the rod back to the grove where its evil may be ended for all time."

 

*After telling his tale, Raeython sits back and awaits the reactions of his companions.*

 

Palladium Muse

"Well, I certainly don't want the thing. And I'd rather not have god-parts raining down on me as they do battle over my head, either.

 

"As for Raeython being commanded by his goddess to find the rod...I'll leap off that battlement when I come to it. Right now it'll be enough to find the bloody thing. I'll watch your backs both until we do. You have my word that until the rod is found, I'll not waver."

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind sighed, and it was as if her entire body had been a great bow, overtautly strung, but now released from the thrumming tension. Bowing her head, she whispered a prayer of thanks, but knew in her heart of hearts that she might yet be required to do that which she feared. For as the possession of the Muse by Set had proved, there were none living who could not be turned to evil and chaos.

 

Another orc's head slammed up through the floorboards, but it seemed to be stuck there. It grinned rather foolishly at them all. "'Ello," it muttered.

 

"Perhaps we might move along then, for this swamp, as it's marked on the map Aivanther procured for us in the Temple of Bacchus?" she suggested, drawing the parchment forth from a beltpouch. "Before Che returns and sees what has become of his tavern?"

 

Fervent nods were already agreeing with her around the table. Ravenwind was prudent enough to leave a note on the table, explaining to whomever might wish to accompany them where they were going, and enough gold to cover their meals.

 

Exiting hastily, the companions stood outside the tavern. "Muse," Ravenwind said sweetly. "Whatever happened to those horses I bought for us all? Did no one think to bring them back from the temple of Set?"

 

Raeython

*Raeython noticed the release of tension from Ravenwind. In truth, he too was relieved to get that off his chest. He knows that there will be dire consequences for what he had told, but some times nothing less than the truth is acceptable. However, he can't help but feel a little bit guilty for he had not told all. Everything he told was the truth, but what he held back was that it is no where near a certainty that they will acquire the rod. Worse yet, that at least one of the questors will not survive the journey.

 

Ravenwind

After a moment of embarrassed silence, the Muse clapped her hands together sharply, and muttered a few arcane syllables. The horses appeared a few inches above the ground in front of them, looking very surprised, and then dropped. "Horses again," Palladium growled.

 

And then they were off, trotting to the northeast, and studying their newly updated world map to see how long it would taken them to reach the mysterious swamp in which a gate to the Abyss stood.

 

Raeython

*Raeython is feeling very despondent as they leave the inn and walk outside to begin the quest. When PM made the horses appear out of thin air, that managed only a weak grin from the troubled ranger. Raeython looks up at the sun, shining brilliantly in the clear blue sky. He raises his nose to the wind and detects the faint aroma of smoke billowing out of the Rusty Sword's chimney. He can 'smell' the anxiety of the horses who are nervous from being teleported from one place to the next. Most notably he can smell the scent of humans as they go about their daily tasks. He can feel the wind blowing gently from the west as it rustles the hair on his arms and head.

 

He then reaches out with those senses that all rangers and druids posses to a lesser or greater degree and attempts to 'feel' the land around him. At first all seems normal, but at the very edge of his ability, he can sense an unease that should not be there. It's as if the very land itself knows events of momentous proportions are coming.

 

He then walks over to his skittish horse and places his hand on his head, calming the beast. He then mounts the horse in a simple motion and takes one last look upon the town and his companions. He then turns to PM and Ravenwind:*

 

"Might as well get started."

 

*As they head off towards the swamp and what lays ahead.*

 

Che

Che and Herman arrive at the front of The Rusty Sword. The dwarf acknowledges the adventurers standing in front, but his interest is suddenly directed to a pile of dust. Che waves his arm to remove some the dust. Dravin's multicoloured cloak is revealed underneath. Quickly, Che grabs the still stiff body of the wizard and props it up against the side of the building. Herman rushes over to help and begins flapping his wings to blow away the fine sedimentary offerings of dirt.

 

"Aye, now yers looks a bit more proper, Dravin." Che picks the wizard up and carries him into the tavern. Muriel rushes to greet her father, "Papa, I'm so glad that you have returned. I must tell you father, we have a problem."

 

"Aye, me's will get to that in a momen', but first, why was Dravin outside? Did he leave a gratuity?"

 

"Ah, no father."

 

"Well, then he be no a leavin' til he does?" Che situates Dravin back into the familiar corner of the tavern, again ready to receive the patrons' garments. Muriel then recounts the trouble with the orcs, and is then ordered by Che to gather her sisters.

 

Muriel returns, and Che reviews the condition of his daughters. All are breathing heavy and many have scratches along their arms. Their clothes are dirty and torn in spots. Three daughters carry broken broom handles. Che turns his back and heads into the kitchen to enter the cellar where the orcs are at.

 

Herman a bit amused by the proceedings then notices the daughters bowing their head and enveloping expressions as if to expect a horrifying outcome. "Why do you girls hang your heads like that?"

 

Rachel responds, "I'm afraid our father is about to torture the orcs."

 

"Torture!" gasps Herman. Rachel nods, whereby follows boisterous laughter below the floorboards.  It is the sound of a half dozen orcs encompassed in a state of uncontrollable laughing. Emerith covers her ears. Herman sticks his head through a knothole in the floor to witness the doings below.  He sees six orcs tied to chairs, each being tickled by Che and made to repeat vows of good behaviour.

 

After a few moments Che returns with six orcs trailing him. Each orc in turn presents an apology to each of the daughters. Within minutes, proper laughing and song fill the tavern. Che announces, "Drinks fo' everyone!"

 

Dravin blinks in the corner and gently spits out a dust ball. The wizard coughs and attempts to whisper, "I could use a drink."

 

Aivanther

*slips into the tavern and looks around*

 

"Che, I could use a bottle of your fine tequila," tosses a bag on the bar and retrieves a bottle from a barmaid. "Thanks," begins drinking, "So what's up all?"

 

Ravenwind

Unnoticed in the commotion of the homecoming, "Herman" the turkey bumped into one of the tavern's patrons. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," he apologized, looking up with great, innocent eyes. The patron walked away, muttering about vermin.

 

"Well, Che," the turkey said, "it's been fun. It's time for me to settle up accounts and try to find some way to get back to my real shape." He tossed a small pouch of gold on the bar, hopped down to the floor, and made his way to the door.

 

Che looked puzzled. He could not understand for the life of him where the bird had been keeping the pouch. "'Tisna likely he'd be having pockets, now, would he?" he muttered aloud.

 

As the turkey left, one of Che's customers reached for his beltpouch, and jumped as if shot. "I've been robbed!" he said indignantly. He paused. "I'm a thief, and I've been robbed? The guild shall hear of this!"

 

Che

"Aye, Aivanther, there be some adventurers amidst the search o' the Rod of Zantalya. Meself just a returned from findin' the whereabouts o' one o' me wives. And..." Interrupted by the whining servitude of the patron thief, Che addresses him.

 

"Now there, laddie, ye should a keep a tighter grip on yer own pursestrings. Yer bein' a thief shoulda know that much. But it would a be a bit amusin' to all if ye would tell yer guild o' yer troubles here. Nipped by a turkey. Not a somethin' ye would a want a legacy to build upon, eh?"

 

The disgruntled patron finds no amusement in the situation but does realize that discussion of it lends to some embarrassment. As he leaves, the thief kicks the stoic Dravin to show his disgust. Che wipes down the now empty table.

 

"Tis a shame when me patrons get a picked. No gratuities!"

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind glanced over her shoulder to make sure everyone was following. There was the Muse; sitting uncomfortably on her horse, Giselle and Ralphy, who had been unaccountably silent of late, perhaps communing after their arduous separation; And Raeython, looking burdened and weary. Further back, she thought she espied a movement in the trees that might have been Aivanther slipping swiftly from shadow to shadow. . . and only Torm knew who else might be behind him.

 

The forest they rode through had at one time been a mighty elven kingdom, long before Myth Drannor fell. Now, the trees, burdened with moss, looked like troubled old men. Little light filtered through the canopy of the leaves; and no birds sang, but the buzz and chirp of insects filled the humid air. The ground under the horses' hoofs had been growing steadily damper and damper, and soon her gelding was throwing up muck with every step.

 

Rayethon suddenly moved ahead of her, and caught at her reins. "Wait," the ranger said quietly, and they all reined in.

 

“What is it?" she asked.

 

"Something is not right here," the ranger replied. He slipped out of the saddle, and studied the ground, but any tracks that there may have been there, had long since filled in with water and silt. Still, the ranger was right, Ravenwind realized. There was something profoundly wrong around them, and it was not proximity to the gate.

 

In the distance, they heard a bird twittering. Raeython looked disbelieving. "A morning dove? Here, in a swamp?"

 

"That's no bird," the Muse agreed. "It's a signal."

 

The bushes thrashed around them, and scaly, reptilian faces peered out at them. Then the creatures moved out from the underbrush, lunging at the adventurers with surprising speed, their fangs and claws bared, and their long tails lashing. "You no come through our territory!" one snarled.

 

The horses spooked, Raeython's snapping the reins from his hands, and racing off.

 

pure_ultima

Ultima's horse sprang forward and raced alongside his fellow adventurers. He drew his sword and pulled it back as he approached a reptilian creature wielding a sword. He swung as he went past and was satisfied to hear a soft thud as its head bounced along the ground. Ultima smiled to himself.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind dropped the visor on her helm, and drew her shortsword. Gathering her reins, she spurred her mount directly at one of the creatures, which wore a feathered headdress, and carried a bone staff, and which had begun to chant nasally. Feeling the tingle of magic gathering, she forced her mount into the hulking creature, knocking it sideways, and disrupting the beginnings of its chant. A swift thrust through its eye with Kaltseax finished the job, and Torm's servant looked for her next opponent.

Raeython

*Forest Friend seemed to leap into Raeython's right hand, and his magic short sword joined his left almost as quickly. Raeython then lept into the bushes on the left hand side of the road, where he encountered three of the creatures. Raeython looks at them in disgust as they charge at him. The leader makes a swipe at Raethon's head, which he quickly ducks under. As Raeython drops below the arm, he opens up the gut of the unfortunate creature with one clean sweep of FF. Raeython then spins away from the dying creature to his left bringing his short sword up to catch the second creature across the neck. The last creature launches a swipe at Raeython from the right, which Raeython meets with FF; slicing completely through the reptile’s arm. The creature takes one look at his dead and dying companions, and quickly flees into the brush. Raeython then looks for other foes who are still on the battlefield.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind felled another opponent, when with some abuptness, there was no one left to fight. The adventurers stood in the clearing, breathing hard. "What made them retreat?" Ravenwind wondered. "There were still many more of them than there were of us."

 

A sickening slurp was their first clue. A glistening spill of green fluid curled up into the clearing from some under the lip of the path. It settled over the corpse of one of the lizard-like creatures, and Ravenwind saw the skin begin to dissolve.

 

Then another appeared. And another. And then a mustard yellow one appeared. And they all began to feed.

 

Palladium Muse

"What is that?" PM asks, bumping into her horse, who whickers and dances a few steps. Her sword is stained with the ichor from the lizard men, and even though she knows she should be afraid, she is infinitely grateful to be off her mount.

 

"Mustard jelly," is Ravenwind's grim reply.

 

"Mustard jelly? Okay. How do we kill it?"

 

Raeython

*Raeython hears the question poes by PM and responds:*

 

"They are all but immune to magic, so spells are just about worthless. I believe any of our weapons should be sufficient, but they have been known to spit out a stream of poison. Keep the potions I gave you handy and all should be well. Magical blunt weapons will work better, but are not necessary."

 

Palladium Muse

"Spit? Ew. Magical blunt though, is it?" Warily she eyes the advancing slime as it finishes off with one of the corpses, leaving a slickly gleaming skeleton behind.

 

Raising her free hand, she gestures, and the air above it takes shape of a ghostly mallet. Bringing her hand down, it smashes into the jelly, which comes quivering to a stop, and reaches up greasy tendrils to engulf the apparition.

 

"Certainly got it's attention, anyway," she notes darkly, then attends to the task of pounding on it.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind frowned, a grimace of distaste, and swung off her horse. swiftly cleaning and sheathing her shortsword, she pulled out a short, ugly little mace from her saddlebags. Not overtly magical, the weapon was dwarf-crafted, and undeniably effective. She loosed an overhand blow at the closest jelly, and the creature's membranous skin could not hold back the force. Slime splattered everwhere, getting in Giselle's hair, and making Ralphy recoil in disgust.

 

"I hate to point this out to a ranger," she commented, swinging at the next one, "but as much as I hate jellies, they are only doing their job."

 

She swung again, but this time, the jelly she faced was not so easily beaten. It collected itself into a glistening column, and forced its fluids out of itself in a stream directed at Ravenwind.

 

She dodged, and struck again. Miraculously, the mace squished down into the jelly, and it retreated, badly wounded. "We should move on, while the others are distracted by their feeding!" she shouted to the others.

 

pure_ultima

Ultima swung his horse around and came back towards the jelly which PM was playing "Whack-a-mole" with (I think that’s what its called!) He swung his sword, leaving a blue arc trailing behind him. The top of the jelly flew off and landed 10 or so feet away. It started to squirm back in the direction of its other part. Ultima pulled his horse around and whispered "Now!" The horse reared up and proceeded to stamp on the poor jelly. Pretty soon it was paralyzed and had a few hoof marks in it.  Ultima heard Ravenwind’s call and gallops away...

 

Raeython

*Raeython yells to his comrades:*

 

"Keep heading for the gate, I will join up with you later."

 

*With that, he takes off in the direction his horse went.*

 

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind swore, and waved the others on. Mounting up, she drove the horse after Raeython. "How in Torm's name am I supposed to guard the man if he keeps ducking off like this?" she muttered. She caught up with him, leaned over, and grabbed his wrist. "We'll make better time catching the beast if you'll ride with me."

 

After a stubborn moment, the ranger aceded, and mounted up behind her. "The tracks are fairly fresh," he said, pointing.

 

BraveSirRobin

All of a sudden a strange but lovely music is heard coming from up ahead. Through the brush a lone figure can be seen under a tree. Upon closer examination it appears to be a man. A man in a distinctively colorful suit of armor, playing a lute. The man notices the party approach. Not knowing the party’s intentions he carefully puts down his lute and puts hand on his sword. Bob the Jester waits for the others to speak.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind's horse reared upon hearing the music, dumping the surprised riders upon the marshy, wet ground. As they landed, the horse promptly bolted in the same direction Raeython's horse had originally gone. With a groan, Ravenwind sat up, almost automatically detecting for evil. "Er, hello?" she greeted the strangely-dressed man. "Who are you, that passes through these dangerous swamps so boldly--and so alone?"

 

BraveSir Robin

"Some call me..........Bob"said Bob. "I am on my way to Calimport where I am auditioning for a new troupe. As you may have already been able to tell I am an actor, musician and performer by trade." Bob illustrates this point by putting on a show called the Juggling Balls of Death. "Great, no fatalities this time. Anyway, I am not due in town for at least another month so I am taking my time and enjoying the countryside. And who my I ask are you and where are you going in such a hurry?"

 

Ravenwind

Torm's servant ducked as one of the lethal pellets narrowly missed her head. There was something strangely compelling about this odd man, something that kept her prudently seated on the wet ground. She found herself exchanging a long look with Raeython.

 

Deciding that the sober truth would probably chase the man away, Ravenwind told it like it was: "Actually, we're on our way to the 667th level of the Abyss to take on demons, tana'ri, demigods, and anything else between us and the Rod of Zantalya," she offered with a bright, cheery smile, the sort used with village idiots. She stood up, and Raeython followed suit. Oddly enough, he was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Care to come along?" she asked, secure in the knowledge that only a lunatic--or a highly skilled adventurer--would reply 'yes.'

 

BraveSir Robin

"Sure, like I said I have nothing better to do" While he was thinking inwardly 'wonder what her legs look like.'

 

"One thing however, I am afraid of horses. So, I will just run along side if you don't mind"

 

"By the way I thought there were only 666 level of the abyss?!?!"

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind's mouth fell open. She had not expected this Bob to accept. And why was he looking at her splintmail trousers so oddly? She felt a sudden urge to straighten out her hair. Next to her, Raeython groaned in disbelief.

 

Deciding to make the best of a bad situation, she hauled herself off the ground and shook the jester's hand. "Welcome aboard," she said gravely. "Given your mutual dislike of horses, you and the Muse should get along well."

 

After retrieving their horses, and retracing their party's steps, Raeython grumbling the entire time about the stray she'd picked up, they were startled, but not surprised, to find their companions in a sticky position.

 

Palladium, Ultima, Giselle, and the rest stood in the center of a small clearing, squirming uncomfortably as a druid berated them: "And I want to know who was responsible for this attack! Do you have any idea how long it takes to raise captive jellies and then return them to the wild? Do you? We've been trying to repair this ecosystem for the past decade, and all it took was one party of irresponsible adventurers out for a lark to destroy our work!" A vein seemed to be beating in the druid's forehead.

 

All the rangers squirmed silently. Ravenwind looked up at the sky, and smiled beatifically. "Thank you," she said to no one in particular.

 

Raeython

*Raeython walks up to the druid who is berating his companions and says:*

 

"What the heck do you think you are doing, Autumnfire? The jellies got in the way of our quest, and you know that we can't allow anything to get in our way."

 

*Autumnfire turns around, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head at being interrupted, the vein in her forehead swelling to nearly the size of a copper piece, when she spies Raeython. At once, Autumnfire seems to deflate upon herself, her face taking on a sulky, whiny look.*

 

"Raeython, I am so sorry, I didn't know they are with you. You know how much time I spent cultivating those jellies, how difficult working with them is. Please don't report me for hindering your quest."

 

*Autumfire responds in a pleading, imploring manner. All of a sudden, her eyes take on a harder cast, and she straightens herself up.*

 

"Just what is this quest anyway, all I know is that we have orders not to hinder you in any way, and to provide what help you require. These orders came all the way down from the grandmaster himself. What exactly are you up to?"

 

*Raeython locks his steady gaze on Autumnfire and replies in his calm, commanding way; though not unkindly:*

 

"Little sister, you know I can't reveal the details of my quest to you. It is enough for you to know that we are doing our best to help mother earth. Now as to reporting you, I don't think that is necessary. You were only doing what you thought best, and did not see me. I would love to stay and visit with you, but our quest is urgent, and we must be on our way. The earth is our mother, she nurtures life."

 

*To which Autumnfire responds:*

 

"Serve our mother in all that we do."

 

*Raeython then turns to his companions:*

 

"Let us be off, again."

 

*Raeython thinks to himself that it was very strange, running into a band of Panalian lizard warriors so close to a druid grove. The further the quest for the rod advances, the more certain he becomes that someone or something is actively trying to stop them. This last challange was minor, but who knows what the future holds.

 

It is with those troubling thoughts, that Raeython resumes the quest for the rod.

 

Ravenwind

Their new companion introduced himself with a cheery wave and smile to each of their existing companions, who all looked a bit askance at him.

 

On they traveled, the muck and gloom of the swamp ever increasing. Palladium's horse managed to get itself stuck in quicksand, and it took quick effort to save the beast. After levitating it out, the Muse glared at the animal, and ordered, "Don't think that I'll do that a second time, nag."

 

Finally, they reached a small, relatively clear pool of water in the heart of the swamp. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other patch of land, but Raeython stiffened as they came close to it. "It's here," he said, gingerly twisting the ring on his finger, as if it had grown hot.

 

"Can you send the horses to the druid's grove?" Ravenwind asked quietly. "Nothing living should be left this close to the gate once it's opened." Her entire demeanor changed. This was the part of questing her entire order had been founded to do, and she felt a profound sense of both dread and anticipation.

 

Ultima whispered to the horses, who perked up their ears, and trotted off into the swamp of their own accord, once their riders had dismounted and removed their gear.

 

"So, open the gate," Torm's hand maiden said, feeling remote and detached as she prepared herself. She drew the Flame of Justice in her right hand, and slowly, wearily, pulled the Shield of Arness onto her left forearm--but did not uncover it. "I'm ready." Her voice was quiet, and almost lost in the noises of the swamp.

 

Raeython extended his hand, and chanted softly. The pool before them began to glow, and he walked out into it. As he stepped into the algae-filled water, he began to disappear, bit by bit. Ravenwind followed close behind.

 

Palladium Muse

After a deep breath, and a glare towards the way the horses had gone, Muse steps forward as well, Giselle and the others right behind her.

 

A familiar disorientation, not knowing which way is up, no sense of firmness beneath ones feet, the contradictory sensations of being in a whirlwind and the eye of a hurricane at the same time.

 

As suddenly as it had started, the sensation stops, and she opens her eyes and blinks.

 

"This was the 667th level of Hell?"

 

The others are standing and staring around with equal bemusement.

 

"We're in Candyland," she says.

 

It certainly seems that way. The sky is a shade of pink not often found outside of confectionery shoppes, with the obligatory cotton candy clouds slowly drifting by. The ground is a deep chocolatey brown, the trees a very strange white and red swirl, topped with unmoving, pasty green leaves and fruit. Judging by the scent of almond wafting by, the foliage is made of marzipan. In the distance, marshmallow mountains with chocolate syrup rivers can be seen.

 

"As long as they don't have black licorice," Muse announces.

 

BraveSirRobin

Bob reaches down grabs a choclate rock and puts it into his pack for latter.

 

"Hey, I guess hell really is for children"

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind looked down at herself, and was dismayed by the pastel color her skin had turned, not to mention by the thick black outlines around the edges of her limbs and sword. "What in the name of. . . ?" she trailed off.

 

Muttering to herself, she murmured a prayer to Torm for truth in her sight.

 

Suddenly, it was dark. She couldn't hear, she couldn't see, there was nothing to touch. And she knew that if she didn't find light soon, she would be eaten by a grue.

 

Raeython

*PM looks at Raeython:*

 

"Are you sure you said the words to the incantation right?"

 

*Raeython responds:*

 

"Well, I might not have said every single syllable but basically I said the words...basically."

 

Palladium Muse

"Basically?" She looks around and surveys Bob inspecting a tree, probably wondering how best to chop it down, and Ravenwind, who is suddenly crouching, reaching for her sword.

 

She turns back to the ranger. "Did you basically fudge the last word?" she accuses.

 

Ravenwind

"C'mon, c'mon, give me some light!" Ravenwind pleaded with her sword. Nothing happened. She could feel something moving beside her in the dark.

 

She jumped back, sweat running down her back. Where were the others? What was going on!

 

Something else brushed against her back. She wheeled, lashing out with her sword.

 

****

 

Bob jumped back, away from the burning edge of Ravenwind's blade. "Hey, what's with her?" he demanded. "A guy tries to be a little friendly, and she reacts like this? Jeez, what a witch!"

 

Raeython and PM stared at the red-haired woman as she snarled and plunged her sword hilt deep in a nearby marshmallow mushroom.

 

Palladium Muse

"Um?"

 

BraveSirRobin

"So, what do we do now" asks Bob. "I mean apparently where are on the wrong plane or is this really the 667th layer of the abyss?"

 

While the others are thinking on the predicament, Bob decides that a little mood music might be in order and settles in under a licorice tree and starts up a light-hearted ditty.

 

Raeython

*Not knowing what else to do, Raeython walks over to where Ravenwind is crouching, and touches the ring to the back of her neck; readying himself to dance away seeing what almost happened to poor Bob.

 

Palladium Muse

Muse watches Raeython, one hand raised, ready to cast should Ravenwind not respond positively to his touch.

 

The mysterious ring brushes her skin, Raeython is tense, ready to spring away at any move Ravenwind makes.

 

Muse glances at the innocent mushroom, cloven clean through, and understands his constraint.

 

Ravenwind

Something grabbed the back of her neck. Ravenwind held completely still. It might be a human hand; it might be something else. Moving slowly, not letting her movements seem threatening, she sheathed her sword.

 

***

 

Raeython relaxed as she didn't run that burning sword through his guts. Somewhat prematurely. She whipped around, seizing his hand, and pressed it to the amulet around her neck, the sign of Torm, and he saw it flare with light under his fingers. . . .

 

It was dark. He couldn't see; he couldn't hear. The only thing he could feel was the pressure of someone's hand on top of his.

 

Palladium Muse

Seeing Raeython's eyes go sightlessly wide, as Ravenwind's are, Muse backs cautiously away.

 

"Bob!" she hisses. "We've got a problem, here..."

 

Very carefully, she circles around them, calling their names.  There is no response.

 

"It would JUST figure that the only two with clerical abilities are the ones taken!" she snaps at no one in particular, and starts going through her spell list.

 

Sighing in frustration, she gestures, and Raeython and Ravenwind's feet are summarily stuck to the ground.

 

"At least that'll keep them still so they don't go running off to slay the Giant Caramel Beast or something," she snorts.

 

BraveSirRobin

"Hmmm, very interesting" exclaims Bob "Do they normally freeze up like this?"

 

Palladium Muse

"Well, I stuck 'em in place. I don't particularly care for being skewered. Now what in the world do we do?"

 

She eyed the two, Ravenwind obviously finding her new immobilization somewhat disturbing.

 

Ravenwind

As soon as she pressed the hand to her amulet, she was able to determine that it was, indeed, a human’s. She sighed in relief.

 

Then something struck her, with the tingle of magic. She flinched, and tried to jump back out of the spell's way.

 

Her feet moved slowly, painfully slowly, and whoever held her hand seemed rooted in the ground more solidly than any oak. Hating herself, she released the hand, swallowing down a surge of terror as she let go the only human link around her, and tried to move.

 

It was dark, she couldn't see, she couldn't hear, she couldn't smell, and now, she could barely move.

 

She lunged forward at something, and, just for an instant, her feet came free. With a shriek, she landed a solid blow on whatever the thing was, and took off after another something once she felt the blow strike home.

 

***

In the other plane of sight, one might have seen a small, bewildered-looking peppermint cow patty that had been cleanly sliced in half, laying piecefully. . .er, peacefully, on the ground.

***

 

And something moved past her in the dark.

 

Giving in to the terror, Ravenwind screamed out to Torm for his sacred strength, put her shield on her back again, and drew both her swords, adopting the best defensive position she could. . . .

 

Raeython

*Raeython is quite startled when Ravenwind puts her hand on his and suddenly, the world is a silent, black place. He can sense Ravenwind's unease, and feels much the same way. Suddenly, he can feel the tingle of

magic in his legs, and he can hardly move his feet at all. He senses the same movement that Ravenwind does, and feels her drawing her weapons. Not knowing what else to do, Raeython draws his blades as well, when Forest Friend clears its sheath, he can feel the blade subtly vibrating in his hand; as though fighting against some force. Raeython is not concerned so much with fighting blind, as he has practiced this many times before, as he is with the fact that his fighting will be severely hampered by the fact he can hardly move his feet.

 

Palladium Muse

"Bob!!" Muse shouts as Ravenwind launches into what seems to be a beserker rage of some sort. "Play something! A lullabye! A ballad! ANYTHING!"

 

Ravenwind, after screaming, drops into a stance, and Muse calls out to her, with the same lack of success she had had before.

 

"Spell, need a spell, but what?" Then she smacks her forehead with her hand. "I guess I could try to find out if there's something doing this to her! Duh!"

 

Another gesture, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Supernatural evil is all around them, and it is not emanating from the land itself. There are numerous creatures around them...and she can't see any of them.

 

BraveSirRobin

"Got it, Muse!"

 

At this point Bob whips out his lute and plays his song of battle, one so eclectic, so unusual as to make the enemy drop to their knees in confusion.

 

Bob studies the two as they were frozen in place, weapons drawn waiting for someone or something to approach. Apparently they were under the effects of some sort of delusion. Bob wondered what might of caused this confusion. He then remembers that Raytheon became deluded when he touched the amulet.

 

"Muse, what is that amulet Ravenwind has about her neck?” he called while still playing.  “Could this be causing the problem?"

 

Palladium Muse

"Hm?" Distracted, she pulls wild eyes to the bard. "No, it's not the amulet, that's her holy symbol of Torm...there's something here with us. I can't see anything, but I know they're out there." Her eyes come back into focus and she stamps a foot as he regards her over his playing. "I am NOT going crazy! You can just quit looking at me like that! Here, YOU feel it!"

 

Reaching out, she grabs the bard's shoulder, giving him the ability to feel the evil around them as well, but without interfering with his playing.

 

BraveSirRobin

After playing his music for a few seconds, the sound of a body smacking the forest floor can be heard by the nearby tree.

 

Bob gestures to Muse, as he does not want to stop playing, to investigate.

 

Ravenwind

Something seemed to be moving through the air like a bird's wings; a rhythmic vibration. Perhaps the music of the night? she wondered wildly.

 

"Torm! Torm, hear me! If ever you heard my prayers, give us light!" she shouted, unable to hear her own voice. "For the sake of the task you have set upon me, give us light!"

 

Palladium Muse

Hearing Ravenwind's cries as she goes to investigate, she stops for a moment, mind working furiously.

 

She makes her way to where the sound of the falling thing came from, but still, she cannot see anything but the colorful candy illusion they're apparently a victim of. She probes carefully with her sword, just to be sure, but nothing makes contact with the blade.

 

Hurrying back to the bard, who is still playing.

 

"I'm going to touch them.  She said it was dark, and if I can 'get' to where they're 'at', maybe I can do something. I think this," she waves her sword, taking in the sugary landscape, "is an illusion. I think they're," pointing at the two armor-clad figures, "in what this plane is really like."

 

"If I'm wrong, though, here," she pulls out a round stone disc from one pouch, about two hands’-spans wide, "Get as close to us as you can and touch this symbol here. It'll get us and anyone within ten feet of you to my world."

 

Bob, concerned, nods, but keeps playing.

 

Taking a breath, Muse raises several inches off the ground and floats towards the two. Reaching out, she grasps Raeython's hand, judging him the safer of the two and least likely to cut her head off.

 

At the same time, she says, "It's me, it's Muse," not knowing if he can hear her.

 

pure_ultima

Ultima puts on his cloak. He suddenly is put into complete darkness. In the darkness he is nearly killed by an angry Ravenwind. He then finds something bumping into his leg. The orb he carries casts a thin beam of light. There is a sort of Luggage (from the Discworld books: for those who have not read them, it is a chest with hundreds of legs that it runs on and has a tendancy to kill anyone who harms its master).

 

Ravenwind

It was dark. The Muse could not see. She could not hear, and (you guessed it) she couldn't feel anything except Raeython's skin.

 

"Now, I get it," she said, as something brushed past her in the dark.

 

Raising her casting hand, the Muse incanted. A searing orb of light appeared above them all, casting double and triple shadows among those who still saw Candyland.

 

For those trapped in the darkness, it was as if they'd been resurrected. For an instant, the Muse caught a glimpse of one of the nightmarish creatures around them before it screamed and retreated from the light. She shuddered to think that they had all been blithely walking around in the dark while the creatures slavered around them.

 

"Thank all the gods," Ravenwind gasped, standing over a rapidly dissolving corpse.

 

"Thank you, Muse," Raeython corrected, cleaning ichor from off his own weapons.

 

"What can we do for the others?" Muse asked, gesturing to Giselle and Bob. Ultima, it must be noted, had somehow seen through the illusion himself.

 

Ravewnind sighed. "I can try to extend my true vision to them." Closing her eyes, she wearily raised her voice to Torm in a prayer again.

 

Bob jumped as the candy world dissolved around him. "What a pity!" he cried. "And what a desolate place! Do you think there's anyone here who would care for a concert at all?"