With Justice For None (Nalifan and Company)

[Rogue 9]

Exactly.

[Imperial Overlord]

Nalifan was out the door, invoking spells of protection to guard him from the weapons of his enemy as crossed the hall to Messina's office. He tried the handle and found the door was locked. "Messina!" he yelled as he kicked the door. It cracked but held. The next kick knocked the door in.

She wasn't there. Screaming was coming from below. He could hear Astinius and Imizael intoning spells. She was probably downstairs, greeting clients. There was a good chance she was already dead and time was not on her side.

"We need to leave!" Astinius shouted. "Close quarters and we have no warriors!" Imizael stood behind him with her eyes wide and hands trembling. It struck him then that she had probably never killed an intelligent being before in her life or cast a spell in anger.

"Then hold this position and guard my back!" he shouted back. A wealking and a combat virgin, poor allies at the best of time. He heard heavy footfalls on the stairs. There was no time left.

Let them wail about the lack of warriors. A shield thrall or bodyguard was an asset, not a necessity. He saw the first plate armoured man crest the stairs. Nalifan intoned the initiator of a spell that caused the Banite's bones to grow thorns that would rip through his flesh. The armoured man gurlged, staggered and fell.

The next two were upon him him. Both men bore enchantments that enhanced their strength and endurance and the one in the rear was also warded against fire and death magic. The corridor was too narrow for more than one to effectively engage him at a time. A battle axe blow aimed at his head was blocked by an invisible shield. Fat blue sparks spun away from the impact. Nalifan uttered a spell and an ebony and crimson beam struck the axe man and snuffed his life force. He fell back.

Nalifan pushed the corpse into the man behind him, fouling his weapon. The other Banite thrust the corpse of his comrade away, but that had given Nalifan time to utter another short and deadly spell. There was an emerald flash and Nalifan pushed over a suit of enchanted armour containing the glass statue of a priest of Bane.

Behind him Astinius squirmed nervously. They were being hit hard by people who were good at this, Gaheris was down, and Kaeryn was in bad shape. They should fade now. Instead the damn drow was wading into them.

A monster came up the other end of the hall, from the other set of stairs. It was six and a half feet tall and fast. Its form was blury and indistinct and it wore burgundy silks. It was built like a man but it hand the head of a tiger and its fingers curled the opposite direction from its palms and ended in wicked claws.

It was a rakshasa, an evil spirit encased in flesh. They were skilled magicians, masters of deciet, nearly immune to both weapons and magic, and possessed a hunger for the flesh of intelligent beings. Astinius uttered a spell and unleashed a pale ray of utter cold. Frost rimmed the hall. The rakshasa was not harmed at all. It ran foreward, a roar escaping from its mouth.

Another spell might work or it might fail and leave him at the mercy of a thing that had no mercy. Fortunately, there was another alternative. Mystra had given him a powerful blessing, one she rarely granted to anyone. He released the energy stored within his flesh in a blast of blue-white flame.

The bolt of spellfire struck the Rakshasa in the chest and knocked it down. The magical flames devoured its chest, allowing it a breaf scream as heated air was forced out of its lungs. The smoking corpse was sprawled in the middle of the hall. Astinius released a sigh of relief. He was spent now until he absorbed more magic, but the Rakshasa was dead and he still had potent spells he could call upon.

Nalifan reached the stairs and looked down at the blasted entry way. The doors to the Blushing Rose had been blasted to flinders and the body of a girl lay smoking in the hall way. Near it was the body of one of Messina's toughs lying face down on the carpet, blood soaking the area around his head. Three Banites were at the base of the stairs.

Two uttered spells while their third charged with a great sword. The magic sloughed off him. He uttered spells of his own. A blast of icy frost struck them all and a heart beat latter he unleashed an explosion of electricity.

The lower half of the staircase exploded in a spray of splinters deadly to unarmoured flesh. The room was blackened and the remnants of a set of curtains was burning sullenly. High Imperceptor Jarval Kreed stepped into the room.

Meanwhile Astinius was watching warily when another rakshasa strode into view. A female with the head of a white tiger and she wore robes the colour of blood. She uttered a spell and bloody light light flashed towards him. He was barely able to counter the spell. She uttered another one as he raised an invisible spell of force between them. Lightning flashed from her hands and splashed off it, blackening the walls and blasting three foot wide holes where it struck.

"We need to go!" he shouted. The Rakshasa was near his match in magic alone. He would not be able to hold her off for long.

The High Imperceptor wore a dark robe over plate armour and an even darker aura surrounded him, hungering to devour all light. If he still bore Spellbreaker he would have been able to drive a death spell through the most formidable of the priest's defences but that was no longer the case. He would have to employ other measures.

Four spheres of boiling acid shot from his hands. Three struck the Jarval, one missed him by inches to strike four feet behind him. Acidic mist blasted out swirled around Kreed, its spread constrained and directed by Nalifan's will.

Layers of spells and armoured of enchanted plate prevented Jarval from being reduced to blackened bones, but the acid still stripped off most of his skin and ravaged his flesh. The pain was unbearable. Kreed bore it.

He struck back with his own spell. Bones broke, flesh tore and blood vessels burst. A being without Nalifan's mastery of magic would have been struck full force and killed. The amount that leaked through was devestating enough. Nalifan tumbled through the rubble that had been the stairs.

Morfindel saw him fall. "He's down!" he shouted back as he ran.

"To me!" Kaeryn cried. The adventurers surged into the room. Imizael was standing over Kaeryn, who was kneeling over Gaheris. "Nal!" she shouted.

"He's gone!" Morfindel shouted. "Wrong side of drop and the priest that dropped him!"

"We have no time," said Astinius forcefully. "They will be on us in moments."

Kaeryn extended her hands to them and began to chant a spell. A moment latter they were gone.

[Rogue 9]

Dammit, we're going to have to save Nalifan now, aren't we? Or will it just be another clone for him?

[LadyTevar]

Kaeryn's going back, you know this.

[Rogue 9]

And if Gaheris is fit to move, he'd go with. Whether he likes Nalifan or not, at this point Nal is one of his people, and he doesn't leave his people.

Of course, that's a big if, given that his spine was just broken.

[LadyTevar]

And if Gaheris is fit to move, he'd go with. Whether he likes Nalifan or not, at this point Nal is one of his people, and he doesn't leave his people.

Of course, that's a big if, given that his spine was just broken.

no, it's Healing thanks to Kaeryn. It's amazing what Regeneration can do.

[Imperial Overlord]

Eyfin let go of the horse's leg and walked back to the fire. "How many stones?" Kesl asked.

"Just the one," he replied. He drew his dagger and cut a piece of meat off the spit. They had been lucky to find a deer, but they had not needed luck to bring it down.

"How many more days now?" the younger man said. He was half wrapped in a fur and close to the fire. Even in this warmer clime Kesl felt the chill easy. Soft, some said, but there was no denying he bravery or skill.

"Not too many more now" Ydrek said. Their lord was looking out across the plane. "If the weather holds, a ride I think. Maybe less. Eight days or so if the tinker was to be believed."

"So he said," said Eyfin. "Hoar is with us," he said naming the god of righteous vengence.

Ydrek grunted. "Tyr as well." He looked east, away from the setting sun and across the the grassy fields. Much of this land was used for herding or raising crops. It wasn't like the North with pockets of people in a cold, desolate land. It was warmer and fuller.

They were soft and weak though. Plenty had made them think first of their bellies and bow their heads to bad men. In the Marches a man who wished to live had better learn the spear. What did it matter if the belly he plunged it into belonged to an orc raider or would be tyrant. Here they waited for someone to do it for them. Soft.

It didn't matter. Soon enough it would be dark and then morning would come again and they would ride. Westgate was close and so was his revenge.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tunnel was concealed by an illusion but even without the Eyes of Arachnae Trizkel would have seen through it. The drow stepped through the illusion of solid rock and into the narrow tunnel. It twisted and turned for a hundred odd yards before opening up into a larget chamber. On the opposite side a pair of passages lead back to Vzinabredin, on at ground level and the other twelve feet above the floor. A Breastwork provided cover for the upper passage and the lower had an wrought iron gate and a six foot wall, which was more than tall enough to give the svirfneblin behind it plenty of cover.

A dart tipped with a glass sphere arced towards him. He leapt aside and droplets of acid splattered the rock behind where he had been standing a moment before. "It is Trizkel," he called out in the svirfneblin tongue. "Trizkel!"

No more missles came. A voice called out. "In what house did you sleep when you lived among us?"

"Sherugan's!" he called back.

"Why have you returned?" the voice called.

"I recognize your voice Kalgoor. I have questions. I require answers."

"This is no longer your home. You should leave."

"Bring forth Sherugan so he may answer my questions!" Trizkel demanded. "One way or the other I will have my answers! I know my past is a lie! I want the truth!"

"Leave us and let it go," said Kalgoor. "Your answers will give you no peace. Go and leave the past buried. You can never reclaim it. It will just be pieces of a broken urn to you."

"You mistake my intent," said Trizkel bitterly. "I am not the boy who was sent from here. I have become far more powerful than you imagine. I am the Will united with the Flesh, Skill married to the Art. I will have my answers from you willingly or I will reave this place and tear the truth from the minds of the dying. Those are your choices."

Silence awaited his answer. Then Kalgoor spoke again. "Wait here. I will bring for Sherugan and he will give you your precious answers but you wil gain nothing of value from this."

"That is for me to judge. Go."

[Rogue 9]

So what, he's going to waltz into Westgate and promptly get his ass beaten?

[Imperial Overlord]

The adventurers sprawled over the carpet of an over decorated sitting room. "Did we-" Gaheris began.

Kaeryn raised her blistered hand to him. It shook slightly. "Be still, you're still healing." She peeked out the window.

"Nalifan's manse I presume," said Imizael.

"Yes," Kaeryn replied. She walked back to Gaheris. "You'll probably be alright regardless, but it would be better if you lay still for the next few minutes."

Astinius looked around. "A bit more gaudy than I would have expected."

"The former owner's choice. He did the more public areas in a style Nal calls 'New Calishite Brothel'." A hulking figure pushed opened the door. Seven feet tall, slate grey, and muscled like a minotaur. It's heard resembled a toad's but was filled with deadly fangs. Its fingers were tipped by long claws and its forearms were shielded by mithril bracers. A great sword hung from a bauldric slung across its torso and a cloth of black silk hid its loins. "Xachotis," she said in greating.

"Servant of Mystra," he hissed back. The grey slaad stepped into the room. The grey slaad often made bargains with mages, so much so that in some works they were refered to as "The Executioners". They greys married arcane might and well honed skills to strengths supernatural flesh.

Kaeryn noticed how little noise he made as he moved. He sniffed around the room. "These are with you?" Xachotis asked.

"Yes, they are. Do you remember Imizael from before?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"We have no need of your aid," she said as he sniffed around Gaheris.

"This one reeks of Law."

"And what does it matter to you? He is here by Nalifan's invitation." The slaad dipped his head and retreated from the room.

"Interesting choice of seneshal," said Astinius.

"Xachotis gets access to Nalifan's libraries, laboratories, and personal instruction in return for his services. Its in his best interest that everything here remain secure and safe."

"Clever of him," said Astinius. "What now?"

"We get him back," rasped Gaheris. "We don't leave our own behind."

"We don't even know if he's still alive," said Astinius.

"We consider the alteranatives and arrange our options," said Imizael. "The brothel was burning. Returning there is not an option. Who saw him fall?"

"I did," said Morfindel. "He was in bad shape, but he could have survived."

"A good place to start," Imizael said. "First possibility: Nalifan is dead."

"Then either I revivie him or a new clone shows up," Kaeryn replied. Her hands were still shaking.

"So he has a stash of clones," Imizael said.

"Yes. Someone had killed him recently. He aborted his investigation to help Messina."

"So that's why he had so little magic with him," said Astinius. "He lost it."

"I hate to break it to you boss," said Mister Toad, "but even I could make that mental leap."

Imizael continued. "So if he's dead then that will be resolved, one way or another. If its possible to recover him with magic, we have the resources. Second, he is dead and his soul has been captured."

"Then we have to retrieve it," said Kaeryn.

"I have magic that will help in finding it," said Imizael.

"Good," said Astinius. "Three is that he's been taken captive."

"He's a dangerous prisoner to keep around," said Morfindel.

"Banites like to do their sacrifices at night," said Astinius. "And he's a big catch. I may despise the man, but he is my comrade in arms and to Baator with letting that happen."

"You tell 'em chief," said Mister Toad. "Besides letting drow get knicked for trying to rescue the lady in distress? Setting a bad example, I say."

"Quite," said Astinius.

"I'll begin my magics," said Imizael. "We'll see what comes."

"Nalifan was using a shielding spell," Kaeryn said.

"If he's caught they'll strip off all of his magical protections. If he's dead it won't matter. Either way, I should get some result."

"What if they area they take him to is warded against scrying?"

"It won't be enough, not against my spells. I'll find him even if he's on Celsestia's slopes or Baator's darkest pit."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ahh so you are finally awake," said a voice close to his ear. "The collar around your neck inhibits magic and you are quite securely bound."

Nalifan blinked. His vision swam for a moment before steadying itself. He was bound to a brass frame that was positioned vertically. A collar of gleaming steel and dark lead was clasped around his neck and shoulders.
Ominous coiling hoses and brass tubes were position nearby him.

He could see a large dark space occupied by more than a score of dark armoured and dark robed men. At one end was a shimmering circle of magic and at the other a huge basalt throne. An altar stone stood before it, the footstool of a god. A woman was bound across it. She had short dark hair and her pale skin was marked with crimson lines.

"Ahh yes, the whore. She was must distressed by your capture. She called out your name when you were beyond hearing." Nalifan turned his neck to observe the speaker. A dead eyed man wearing dark silk over plate armour. There was something about his eyes. He could feel himself falling into bottomless pools of malice. "I see that she means something to you. Foolish to get so attached to a woman, they're all replacable. Twice foolish to a whore."

"You've healed up nicley," said Nalifan. "It must have hurt having your skin melted off."

"Recognized my voice did you? Allow me to introduce myself. I am High Imperceptor Jarval Kreed."

"You look pretty healthy for a dead man."

"The reports of my death were in error. I took the opportunity to dissappear and put certain plans into motion. I am telling you this so you can appreciate fully what is about to happen to you."

"I can be of use to you Jarval Kreed. I have power and I am willing to bargain. And I know things. Your position is not as secure as you think."

"Indeed. Of course, how could I trust you? No, I think I'll ignore everything you say. Listen drow. Words, magical or otherwise, cannnot save you. Nothing can. You have transgressed against Bane and nothing can save you. The whore is here because she matters to you. I want you to see your fate, I want you to understand it before you suffer it. I want you to feel the Black Fear. And I want you to watch something you love die beyond any hope of salvation or rescue."

[Imperial Overlord]

Gaheris flexed his shoulders. "How much longer is this going to take?" he aksed.

"Sit down," said Kaeryn. "Scrying spells of this level of power and complexity are not short. She'll be done when she's done. She reached over and grabbed another piece of cheese. Nalifan's servents had set them up in the dining hall where they could plot and plan around the main table.

"We may have worse trouble than the Banites," said Astinius. Mister Toad was wallowing in a water filled bowl next to him. "I had to fight a pair of rakshasas."

"Rakshasas?" Kaeryn said. "Really?"

"Yes," said Astinius. "I was able to dispose of the first, but the second was far more powerful."

"That's a problem," said Kaeryn. "Shape changers, decievers, magic users, and almost invulnerable. Fortunately they do have one weakness that is exploitable."

"Which is?" asked Gaheris.

"Their flesh, bone and hide resists weapons quite effectively, but it can be overcome. A weapon charged with forces that are inimical to it will have some success, especially if they are piercing weapons."

Gaheris smiled. "I think I can manage that."

"Good," said Kaeryn. "It's going to be quick and messy."

"If it happens," said Morfindel.

"Yes," said Kaeryn. "I've already expended a fair amount of my magic with the healing and teleporting. We'll feel the lack in a prolonged conflict."

"You're not the only one," said Astinius. "I still possess a respectable amount of magic at my disposal, praise Mystra, but repelling the rakshasas was not without cost."

Gaheris nodded. "Its a rescue, not a prolonged battle. On the plus side, the Banites will have expended spells as well."

"They seemed to be well equipped with magics," said Kaeryn.

"I noticed," said Gaheris. "Every set of plate was enchanted. That's not cheap or easy, even with their priests."

"A question for another time," said Kaeryn.

Gaheris nodded. "We do have clues on that front. I recognized the priest who attacked us." For the benefit of the others he added, "the one with the lightning rod. Razhal Ironfist."

"So much for him catching a lance in the Heartlands," said Morfindel.

"Who is Razhal Ironfist?" Kaeryn asked.

"A high priest of Bane, an Imperceptor," Gaheris answered. "He's a half orc and a deadly fightier. He lead a war band through what is now the Silver Marches until they unified and chased him and his boys out. Rumour had it he and his raiders ended up on the wrong side of a skirmish in the Western Heartlands, but he's obviously not dead."

"Sounds like he was laying low," Kaeryn said. "And that does explain why they have so many hardened warriors."

"But not the quality of the gear," Gaheris replied, "or who is calling the shots. Razhal's been doing to jobs of a trusted second, not those of a leader. Whoever leads the Banites can command the obediance of one of the most ferocious Imperceptors in recent history."

There was a moment of awkward silence. "Well that's a pleasant thought," said Astinius. "Not just an Imperceptor and rakshasa powerful enough to match an arch-mage spell for spell, but someone even worse."

"In and out quick," said Gaheris. "We'll worry about the rest latter."

A door opened and Imizael stepped into the room. All heads turned towards her. "I found him," she said grimly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jarval Kreed made a gesture and a black robed priest walked towards the altar. "Its a bit earlier than we would prefer, but even a bound arch-mage is dangerous and we do need to cram in everything we can." He patted Nalifan's cheek. "Its too bad. I would prefer to take my time breaking you, but I think you'll beg before the end anyway."

The priests at the altar drew a long, curved knife. Messina screamed He began to slice Messina's limbs and her screaming rose in octave. "Slashing the tendons. Even those who are about to die fear being crippled."

The priest touched Messina's foreward and uttered a spell. There was a flash of green fire and the smell of cooking meat and the Black Hand of Bane was burned onto her forehead. "That's it for the preliminaries. Now we get down to the meat of it."

The priest raised a hammer of wrought iron and methodicaly shattered the joints in her arms and legs. Messina's cries became choked and horse. "Watch carefully," said Kreed. "We are getting to the good part."

The priest grasped the bloody knife and sliced it across her stomach. He reached in and began pulling out her entrials. Messina cries became a keening moan. "Now he looks into her eyes. He looks for her to plead, either with her eyes or her lips. When she does, when she submits in her soul, then-" The priest plunged the blade into her heart. She spasmed and lay still.

"Its not over, of course. The energy of her death, the power of her fear, all of these feed Bane. And Bane rewards us in turn. We invest that power in our weapons and armour. Which brings us to our altar."

His gaze bored into Nalifan. "Her soul will not pass out. Instead the altar consumes it and gives us the power. There will be no just reward for her. Or for you. Only oblivion awaits. Oblivion that will give us even more power. And that brings us to Yalshala and her machine."

One of the black robed figures removed her cowl, revealing the head of a white tiger. "The machine," she began, "is called a pain extractor. It is not simply a torture device. It collects what it extracts. Agony can be both a drug and a power source."

She drew in close. "The process is excruciating. Given enough time, it will kill its victim. Your pain shall feed us and fuel our talismans." She pulled a lever and Nalifan's world became an inferno of pain.

[Rogue 9]

My my. That's a new one, unless it's one of the parts of the Book of Vile Darkness that I purged from my memory.

[LadyTevar]

Kaeryn will be taking that tiger apart and giving Nal her pelt for a wallhanging.

[Imperial Overlord]

My my. That's a new one, unless it's one of the parts of the Book of Vile Darkness that I purged from my memory.

Using Apony (liquid pain), souls, and Dark Craft xp and gp (from sacrifices) to contribute to making magic items are all found within the Book of Vile Darkness.

[Rogue 9]

I was aware of Agony, but hadn't looked into Dark Craft points because it seemed a redundant idea from what little I read. Hmmmmm.

Anyway, a funny thing happened a couple days ago. Friend of mine paid off his share of the cost of the World's Largest Dungeon by giving me the Monster Manual III. Just read the rakshasa entry. Devious of you, that.

[LadyTevar]

::turns to Nit, so he can find the PDF for her to see what Rogue's talking about::

[Imperial Overlord]

::turns to Nit, so he can find the PDF for her to see what Rogue's talking about::

There's some new rakshasas in it (my friend owns it). It think there's a white furred necromancer variety in it, but there all for Eberron so I only skimmed it.

[Rogue 9]

Well, it would seem to fit.

[Imperial Overlord]

Well, it would seem to fit.

So does a bunch of sorcerer and arch-mage levels.

[Rogue 9]

Yeah, but that doesn't cover being white. You can probably see why I'd think that was it.

[Imperial Overlord]

Yeah, but that doesn't cover being white. You can probably see why I'd think that was it.

I wanted her to be distinctive. And I have Skaven on the brain and white Skaven are good at magic.

[Imperial Overlord]

Gaheris drew his sword as Astinius wove additional protective spells. "Remember in and out quick," said the paladin. "We don't know what kind of back up they'll have and we are attacking their temple. Just get Messina and the drow and leave."

Morfindel nodded and loaded a blessed crossbow bolt into his weapon. "Ready," he said.

"Imizael, on the trip back, teleport us outside the wall," said Kaeryn. "I'm the only one here who the teleport blocks will let through."

The sun elf nodded. "Everyone ready?"

Nods and a chorus of "yes" came in reply.

"Then we shall depart. Gather around me." The high mage began to intone a spell and then they were gone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pain slowly receeded. Nalifan caughed up blood from a throat he had shouted hoarse. Two men were undoing the restraints, freeing him from the pain extractor. Strong hands gripped his arms and pulled hiim foreward out of the apparatus. A small tube of thick red fluid was attached to one side of the pain extractor by a hose. His pain, condensed into liquid form.

The Banites dragged him foreward. He tried to struggle, but his limbs were like lead and a fog shrouded him mind. Laughter surrounded him. The Black Throne was near.

Two other Banites pulled Messina's corpse off the altar block, dumping her on top of her entrails. The block was slick with blood and shit. A Banite struck him in the stomach and in the side fo the head. His world spun and he was down against the hard stone. Strong hands held him down while they fastened the restrains.

Gaheris materialized beside a brass armature that looked like some kind of torture device. An armoured Banite was fumbling for his weapon. Gaheris brought Bright Edge down on his head, the blade shining with power. Blood and brains splattered the paladin as he bisected the priest's skull. Gaheris kicked the body off of his blade. The Banite's jaw made a grating sound as the sword came out.

Lightning danced from Kaeryn's hand, sending dark clad priests writhing in agony. Yalshala uttered a spell and spheres of flame flashed from her hand. Astinius uttered a counter spell and the sphere's vanished a few feet from the adventurers. "There!" Gaheris shouted, pointing at the altar.

The Banites reacted quickly to the attack. Weapons were drawn and spells were chanted. Imizael unleashed a blast of withering cold in front of her, blasting the Banites that stood between her and the altar. Morfindel spun on his heel, leveled his crossbow at Yalshala, and fired. The man beside her caught the bolt inches from her head.

Morfindel's magic crossbow reloaded itself and the elf fired again as the other pushed past her. The bolt caught the rakshasa in the shoulder and she howled in pain. She fell back, uttering spells of warding and shielding.

Imizael raced forward, Gaheris hot on her heels. The priest by the altar recovered from their shock. One drew his mace and interposed himself while the other drew his ritual knife. Both of them we wearing black robes over spell wrought plate armour.

Imizael uttered a Word of Power and the priest with the knife dropped the weapon and fell. The priest of Bane knew his business, but Gaheris was faster. He struck low and hard. There was a bright flash as Bright Edge cut through armour and flesh to crack bone. The Banite fell screaming. Gaheris kicked him in the head as he passed.

Morfindel was sprinting up behind them as Kaeryn invoked a swirling cloud of razor edged discs of magical force between them and the Banites. Several priests fell back, blood gushing from wounds. Others chanted.

Columns of green flame smashed down from the ceiling. Gaheris rolled out of the way a split second before it struck, recieving only minor burns. The flames touched neither Kaeryn nor Nalifan. Morfindel, Imizael, and Astinius were not so fortunate. Although Imizael and Astinius were protected from the worst of the blasts that struck them and Morfindel managed to only be struck by the peripherary of the blasts, all three of them suffered serious burns.

Imizael shouted out a spell that surrounded the companions with a wall of shimmering colours. "That will hold them," she said through gritted teeth. Morfindel blade hand flashed out and began cutting the drow free.

Kaeryn reached down for the blackened bone and ash that was all that was left of Messina. She picked up the blackened skull. "Get us out of here," Nal hissed. More spells were being chanted and the outer layers of of the prismatic wall boiled away in clouds of coloured vapour and dancing lights. There was a shimmering glow at the far end of the room and three new warriors appeared in the room.

"Ilmater and Tymora," said Gaheris. "They're burning through the wall and have reinforcements. Morfindel?"

"Got it!" said the grey elf as he sliced through the last bond. "We can go!"
Astinius uttered the initiators of a spell and they were gone.

[Imperial Overlord]

Trizkel waited patiently for Sherugan to arrive. The gnome was no longer young and they were still some distance from Vzinabredin. Time stretched on. The svirfneblin watched him warily. Some were clearly ready to attack him. They could try but any attack on him would be the last thing they did. He smiled. Two flinched.

"Trizkel," came a wavering voice. "I am here." The wrought iron gate swung open to reveal a grey skinned, bald gnome with a wrinkled visage. He walked with the aid of a hollow cane of black iron and wore a thick robe of green and blue checks. "I had hoped you would not return."

"My past is a lie," Trizkel said. "I was not an orphan boy found by you after a raid laid waste to my settlement. I was not raised here as a member of your community. My habits, my instincts, my reactions are all drow. My memories are a thin gloss of lies."

Sherugan nodded. "That is true and that is more than enough."

"That is for me to judge. Do not oppose me on this."

The old gnome was silent for a moment. "Very well then. You shall have your truth. I doubt it will give you any satisfaction. You were just another drow murderer when we found you. No notable rank or skill, just a foot soldier in raiding band. When we overpowered you and your fellow murderers you were merely rendered unconscious instead of slain. Your latent psionic talents had saved you from having your mind burned out."

"War is war and you had been delivered into our hands. Psi talents are rare and you could be shaped. So I erased your past and gave you a false history. I trained you, helped you develop your unformed talents. I posed as a foster father so you would bond with me and become an obediant weapon. And you did."

Sherugan stopped for a moment. "You were too good. Too bright, too skilled, too talented, too loyal. You were no longer just a drow murderer. We had intended to cast you against other drow as a weapon, to implant killing compulsions and be rid of you and as many other drow as possible but after all those years I could not do it. So I sent you away. I told you the truth. I told you that you needed to leave, to see the outside world and decide your own fate. And now you have returned."

"I suspected as much," growled Trizkel. "Who were my parents? Where was I from?"

"You were from Chez N'Rethen, but beyond that I can tell you nothing. We saved nothing of your memories. They are gone."

"You warped my mind. You tampered with my memories. Why should I spare you?"

"I spared your life. Twice. Is your life now so terrible that you must kill for a past which you do not remember? You are powerful now. You appear to have prospered. We intended to use you yes, but so do your fellow drow. You have fair fare better in our hands than in theirs."

Trizkel thought for a moment. He could kill them all and create a swath of destruction through Vzinabredin. It would be easy. It would also change nothing.

Was a past he couldn't remember worth killing over? Was it worth anything? He was strong now, so very strong. He had friends, wealth, allies, and a lover. What could Chez N'Rethan offer him that was better than what he already had?

Nothing. And Sherugan had given him the training and the start that had lead him to where he now stood. What did he owe him?

"Very well," said Trizkel. "I shall spare you." What did they matter? The past was done. He was no longer a foot soldier in someone's army or the weapon of Vzinabredin. There were more important things in his life than a past that had disowned him. He could continue to dig it up or he could turn his gaze towards the future. A future with friends and power and perhaps a woman who was even now deciding whether or not to share her life with him. What was Sherugan compared to this?

Nothing. "There are far more important things in my life than you," he said and turned on his heel. "I doubt we shall meet again." His mind was already turning towards the future. The past was done and had no claim on it unless he chose to let it, but his future was within his power to change.

[Rogue 9]

About time something went right. *Waits for the other shoe to drop.*

[LadyTevar]

And that, is the true measure of a man. To know his past, and yet to leave it for the hope and promise of the future to come.

Bravo. Did Trizk's player see this before you posted it?

[Umbras]

Nah we talked about it on a few occasions after gaming, and Cyn has my trust and knows me welll enough to work out how Triz would react to situations. You should see when we game, we dont even have to say what we are going to do, We just go to town without even saying a word.

woe to the annoying NPC's when we are playing together