With Justice For None (Nalifan and Company)

[Imperial Overlord]

Trizkel walked into the dining room and slumped into a chair with a self satisfied smirk. Sylvetria was two steps behind him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Trizkel pulled a peach off of the fruitbowl and bit into it. As he swallowed, he tossed the fruit from one hand to another. "So Nal, I half heard that interesting things were going on in our absence."

"Yes," the arch-mage replied with a bemused look on his face. "I take it you two have come to some kind of understanding regarding your futures?"

"Yes," said Sylvetria.

"Oh yes," Trizkel added.

Nalifan smiled. "So how big of a wedding party do you want and where do you want it to happen?"

"We haven't discussed that yet," Trizkel replied. "We've been busy getting reaquainted. So, what happened while we were away."

"It's complicated," said Nalifan.

"Why don't you give us the framework."

"I got killed, a clone took my soul, and found out there is a power struggle going on with my family. In the meantime the Night Masks made there move in Westgate with the aid of no longer secret Banite and rakshasa allies."

"And you fit in how?"

"Coming to that part. Kaeryn was visiting when I got the message from a Triad paladin who survivied the surprise strike. He was with . . . . an old lover of mine. Someone I owed."

"Really?"

"Yes. She wanted my help. Kaeryn and Imizael, more on her latter, joined up. I erred."

"How?"

"I compromised. I let emotion influence my judgement and I overvalued the arraingement. Suffice to say I was captured and then rescued, but Messina was lost beyond all attempts at recovery."

"I'm sorry Nal."

"So am I. It was clear that the Night Masks and their allies were too well prepared and too strong for the current strategy to succeed so I abandoned the campaign to reclaim the possession I had lost with my death. In doing so I dispatched my killer who turns out to be Imizael's sister."

"They are faerie?"

"Yes, sun elf mages. Imizael is even more powerful than I am, although unused to battle. So now I hold the soul of the sister of the woman who was instrumental in saving me from being obliterated by the Banites."

"So what next?"

"Revenge. And a promise kept, although perhaps not in the way Messina intended."

"Kaeryn?"

"Despite having given me her word to assist in hunting down my killer she chose to continue the campaign to 'save' the people of Westgate."

"And you think they are going to lose."

"I'm sure of it."

"That must have hurt," said Sylvetria. Nalifan met her gaze. "Breaking her word to you in favor of helping strangers must have hurt, but probably not as much as her doubting your assesment of the enemy. She not only thought you were wrong, but that you were so badly wrong that they could win without even your help."

"She may have had reason to doubt my judgement," Nalifan replied, "and I may have been less direct about how badly I believed the odds were stacked against us."

"You wanted the others to continue fighting," said Trizkel.

"Yes. Let us say our alliance was less than convivial. It certainly suited me for Gaheris and the others to continue to occupy their attention and bleed them."

"But we aren't talking about Gaheris," said Sylvetria, "we are talking about Kaeryn. Someone who knows you quite well."

"She would have known," said Nalifan, " and still she chose. I wasn't shocked. My ego was somewhat bruised, but I wasn't terribly surprised."

"So what now?"

"I do the unexpected, fight this war in a way they do not anticipate." And he told them. He laid everything out in a few bold sentences.

"Talos," said Trizkel. "You're not doing things by half are you?"

"Half measures are almost always a poor decision, moreso in war than in just about anything else. And you?" he said to Sylvetria.

"This is . . . . a hard thing you are going to do," she said at last. "And I come from a hard people used to constant war."

"Yes, its a nasty business. On the other hand, we can just give the Night Masks the whole Dragon Coast. They'll take it all in a few years the way they are going now. And then who knows? A new empire is born to rival Shade, Thay, and the Zhentarim. Who knows when it will end?"

"A warrior of Vaasa will do hard things, if they are necessary," Sylvetria said at last. "What do you want from us?"

"The nicer parts of the job," said Nalifan. "Keep the trouble somewhere else until its too late for them to stop me and rescue my unfortunate former companions from their folly."

"I may have the stomach for this," said Sylvetria, "but Kaeryn won't like any of it."

"I know," said Nalifan. "We have both spun our webs and will have to lair in them."

[The Nomad]

"Talos," said Trizkel. "You're not doing things by half are you?"

You know, coming from a drow it's kind of scary .

[Umbras]

It may be scary but Trizkel would be saying that with a smile on his face and it would be a predatory one at that .

[LadyTevar]

If it's something that Kaeryn "won't like", I'm sure it's going to be something very nasty indeed.

I'd just wish that Nal could understand that she's a Priestess, and as such she's got a duty to serve the Common Good... unlike certain Arch-Mages who can do as they please when they please.

Besides, he didn't need her help after all, she'd have only been in the way. Especially once she realized that was Imazeal's sister. Pity her morals got in the way... although I still want her to show up at Nal's manor with that raksaka pelt for him.

[Imperial Overlord]

I'd just wish that Nal could understand that she's a Priestess, and as such she's got a duty to serve the Common Good... unlike certain Arch-Mages who can do as they please when they please.

He understands, but a priestess of Mystra has higher loyalties than the Common Good and if one were an arrogant arch-mage who had Mystra's eye, one could believe they might involve him.

[LadyTevar]

I'd just wish that Nal could understand that she's a Priestess, and as such she's got a duty to serve the Common Good... unlike certain Arch-Mages who can do as they please when they please.

He understands, but a priestess of Mystra has higher loyalties than the Common Good and if one were an arrogant arch-mage who had Mystra's eye, one could believe they might involve him.

Involve, yes. Center around him? no.

He's good in bed, but he's not Mystra's favorite.

[Imperial Overlord]

Involve, yes. Center around him? no.

He's good in bed, but he's not Mystra's favorite.

You're just jealous that Mystra doesn't show up to Kaeryn's parties.

[Imperial Overlord]

Imizael turned to where the bolt had come from. Her enhanced vision pierced the spells rendering the masked assassin invisible. The killer was on a rooftop with a perfect view of the alley. He was reloading his crossbow with smooth, practiced motions. The elven high mage uttered a spell and the assassin was wreathed in blue-white flame. There was a brief scream as hot air was blasted out his burning lungs and then he was ash and blackened bone.

The fire from Astinius's blasting spell filled the street and stopped several feet from Gaheris, sending a huge wave of heat washing over him. The flames faded, revealing blackened stone and several Banites on their knees. The glimmer of protective sorcereries flickered around them. They had expected fire. They unleashed spells of their own.

The alley went utterly silent as spells swallowed all sound. Two pillars of green flame smashed down from the sky, turning the alley into an antechamber of hell for one brief, intense moment. Astinius, Kaeryn, and Imizael's protections and magics allowed them to survive the conflagration, but the flamestrikes left them all burned it their wakes.

Black fire swirled around Gaheris. White light warred with it, divine power flaring up to protect the champion of Tyr. The holy power won, barely. An agonizing shudder ran through the paladin's frame as he through off the effect's of Razhal's killing spell.

The wash of heat from behind him and the sudden absence of noise informed the paladin on what was happening behind him. They had to get the spellcasters out of the silenced zone now, perferably by not charging the oncoming Banite warrior priests. Someone would have to buy time.

He dodged the brilliant red lash of a Banite energy whip and interposed himself between the rest of the party and the two Banites charging with greatswords. He dodged the first and kicked the second hard in the side of the knee, sending him crashing to the alley floor. Razhal and two others were advancing. Time to fade.

Kaeryn felt a tingling sensation all over the unburned parts of her skin as the magical silence settle on the alley. The heated air and the heat radiating off the blackened stone made it hard to breath. Her eyes rested on horror. Morfindel, even if he had been alive when the fire struck, was most definitely not now. His lower body had been completely annhilated. From the waist up he was a blackened and burned.

Even from this she had a good chance of being able to restore him. She grabbed his corpse and swung it up and over her shoulder. She needed to flee the zone of quiet so she could unleash her most potent sorceries, preferably before another wave of Banite magic struck them. Imizael was already racing ahead.

Astinius was the last of the three to leave. While most of his spells required verbal initiators, he had other gifts that were not so restricted. As Gaheris downed one Banite warrior with his kick to the knee, the other raised his blade for a devestating strike. Astinius unleashed his own store of power in piercing lance of blue-white fire.

Whatever protections from fire the Banite might have had left, they were no match for the blast of spellfire that punched through his breastplate and incinerated his chest. He toppled. Gaheris was free, if only for a moment.

There are times to stand and fight. This wasn't one of them. Gaheris ran full speed down the alley. Dagger-likes pieces of razor ice fell from the sky around his destination. Astinius was already among them, relying on his speed and his wards to protect him from the worst of the ice storm. Oh Hells, Gaheris throught.

Razhal leveled his rod and unleashed a forked bolt of lighting that lashed they alley, both Gaheris and Astinius, and blew open the front of the shop across the street. Some of the already heated and cracked bricks of the alley wall exploded as tendrils of electricity raked over them, sending red hot chips flying.

Gaheris's divine protections and Astinius's magic allowed them to escape the worst of the gauntlet, but they did not do so unharmed. The two adventurers ignored the pain of their injuries and forced themselves up the street, away from the alley mouth. Imizael uttered a word and blocked it off with a wall of ice.

"That won't hold them," said Astinius. The arch-mage's clothes were torn and burnt. Gaheris took the moment afforded to tap his resevoir of healing power and heal his own wounds. Kaeryn was laying her hands on Imizael and uttering words to a healing spell.

"It will give us a few moments," Imizael replied as the gashes and burns on her flesh faded away.

Lighting blastes a gaping wound in the wall. "I think we just ran out," said Kaeryn.

[LadyTevar]

Why the hell did Kaeryn stop? Once they were close enough, she should have tried some way of getting them out of there. Planeshift, teleport, dimdoor... something.

*sigh* And she's probably wishing she had told the paladin to screw himself and just stayed with Nalifan. Stupid Oath.

[Imperial Overlord]

Why the hell did Kaeryn stop? Once they were close enough, she should have tried some way of getting them out of there. Planeshift, teleport, dimdoor... something.

If she doesn't stop, the rearguard can't catch up and she is healing Imizael while she is providing covering fire for Gaheris and Astinius. She's not going to teleport away and just abandon Gaheris. She's only just finished healing Imizael at the end of the segment and hasn't had time to cast another spell.

[LadyTevar]

Why the hell did Kaeryn stop? Once they were close enough, she should have tried some way of getting them out of there. Planeshift, teleport, dimdoor... something.

If she doesn't stop, the rearguard can't catch up and she is healing Imizael while she is providing covering fire for Gaheris and Astinius. She's not going to teleport away and just abandon Gaheris. She's only just finished healing Imizael at the end of the segment and hasn't had time to cast another spell.

Hopefully the next spell will be to get them outta there, then

[Imperial Overlord]

A dark green flash enveloped the adventurers. Hovering above the building was the orange and black striped raskshasa. Charging out of another alley was the black furred one, scimitars in each hand. Light seemed to bend and blur around him and his speed was about equal to a galloping horse.

"Teleport us!" Gaheris called. Razhal Ironfist jogged through the hole in the wall of ice, his cronies coming up behind him. Even with all of his strength, a man in plate was still at a disadvantage trying to pursue an unencumbered man. His silver scepter glowed a brilliant blue-white.

Astinius raised his hands to deal with the floating rakshasa. It might be extremely resistant to magic, possibly even resistant enough to withstand some of Astinius's spells, but the elf had other resources. A blast of spellfire flew from his hands. The rakshasa dodged to the side and the blast flashed into the sky.

The black furred rakshasa ate up the distance between it and the adventurers in no time at all. It was a moment away from slicing into Astinius's flesh when Imizael finished her spell. A perfect basalt copy of the rakshasa toppled to the cobblestones.

Kaeryn had invoked her spell mantle, layered defensive spells that lay dormant until triggered. Another spell left her lips. Lightning lashed from her fingers, striking Razhal to no apparent effect and then forking into chains of electrical energy that knocked the men behind him to their knees.

Lighting from Razhal's scepter filled the street. Kaeryn's protections deflected it entirely, but the others felt the lash. Behind her she could hear the screams of fleeing Westgaters who had not been fast enough. How many more dead?

"Teleport!" screamed Gaheris. A blast of frigid mist erupted from the flying rakshasa. This time even Kaeryn felt its chill bite as the cobbles were coated in frost by a cold so terrible it could freeze the blood in an unprotected man's veins instantly.

Imizael shouted a spell and a wall of dancing colours formed a semi-circle around them. "Not that I don't appreciate the wall," said Gaheris, "but why no Beshaba damned teleport?"

"The green flash," replied Kaeryn.

"Note to self," said Gaheris, "influencing public opinion is never worth any kind of exposure. Next time we grab someone we just teleport back with him."

"Our supply of travel magics isn't limitless," Imizael said. "And how are you going to rally the city against tyrants without influencing public opinion?"

"Another time," said Gaheris. "Now what?"

"The wall will hold," said Kaeryn, "but they'll go around."

"The flying rakshasa won't be first," said Astinius. "It won't be the only target now that it knows we can kill it."

Imizael unfolded a piece of cloth revealing a hole into space.
"We can take Morfindel's body in here," she said. Kaeryn chanted a spell of mass healing. Blue light shimmered around them as the frostbite vanished from the adventurer's flesh and their burns became less severe.

"Let's move," Gaheris said as he began to jog towards an alley that was included in the hemisphere. The others followed.

"We can removed the teleport block," said Imizael. "It won't take long."

"Then when you have a moment, get at it. We have a golden opportunity right now."

"What?" said Kaeryn in disbelief.

"We've survived their ambush and they think we're on the run," said the paladin as he left the alley. "We're not nearly as bad off as they think. They'll spread out to close off our escape and men in plate armour aren't fast."

"You're going to string them out so we can pick them off in small groups."

Gaheris lead them up the street, swinging his sword in a broad arc to get people to clear the street. "We've always had to escape from them before they crushed us. We're on the run. They'll be thinking of finishing off the defeated foe once and for all. I know these streets better than they do and they don't appear to have any Night Masks with them. They don't know this city or her nasty secrets like I do. Let's bleed them white."

[Imperial Overlord]

Nalifan, Sylvetria, and Trizkel appeared with a crack of displaced air on a roof of a three story building overlooking Westgate's harbour. They were armed for war. Nalifan wore his customary dark robes and Trizkel was wrapped in layers of psionic force. Sylvetria wore a full length coat of mail. A sword hung from her belt and a two handed warhammer was slung across her back.

"Time to part," said Nalifan.

"I'll see if I can keep them fighting," said Trizkel. "By the amount of magic flying I would say they've stirred up some trouble already." He grabbed Sylvetria's arm and rose into the air, flying deeper into the city.

Nalifan stepped off the roof and floated to the ground. The arch-mage crossed the square towards the Temple of Umberlee. The single guard was stationed at the door. He wore a fin crested helmet and wore lacquered green scale armour. He reached for his war axe at the drow's approach.

"I need to speak with the high priest. Now."

The guard was not a young man with a desire to prove himself. His beared contained more grey than black and he chose the traditional route for dealing with dangerous, magical beings that were far more powerful than he was. He passed the decision on to someone else by ringing the bell. "An underpriest will be with you momentarily," he said nervously.

Nalifan smiled in a completely unreassuring manner. "Good."

A handsome young man came to the door. He was garbed in a similar manner to the guard. A ceremonial trident that could easily be put to more practical use was carried in his left hand. His smile was cruel. "What is this about?" he asked and then his sneer faded and his voice trailed off when he realized what he was confronting.

"I need to speak with the high priest. Now."

"He is busy-"

"Get him. Now. Or you will bear the weight of my dissappointment."

The priest paled and bolted. Nalifan followed him into the temple. A large pool connected to the ocean through a subterranean tunnel dominated most of the room. Metal glinted from the floor of the pool, the product of centuries of gifts done to appease the Bitch Queen and buy safe travel. Walkways along the walls and a cross shaped pathway across the pool allowed free movement through most of the room. Doors at the far end presumably lead to personal quarters and the like.

Fear and longer legs allowed the priest to rapidly outdistance the drow as he traversed the central walkway. The drow was content to travel at a slow walking pace. The half dozen priests and guards inside eyed him warily. Several worshippers, ordinary folk making offerings for safe journies, bolted outside. "What?" said Nalifan with a grin. "One would think that drow make people nervous."

The junior priest returned in a very short period of time with the high priest. He wore green enamelled plate and carried a long spear in his hand. Faded scars crisscrossed his face. His visage was stern and mercilous, like that of a pirate captain disturbed in his lair.

"High priest," said Nalifan, "I'm pleased to meet you."

"What do you wish drow?" he asked coldly.

"You might have noticed the disturbances in the streets these last few days?"

"Umberlee rules the waves not the land," he replied. "It does not concern us."

"I see," said Nalifan. Then he uttered a spell. By the time the followers of Umberlee began to react it was too late. Their bodies withered as mists of blood rose away from them. All but the high priest toppled. Three desicated bodies struck the water and sank.

The high priest gasped and staggered. He uttered a killing spell and a brilliant flash of crimson surrounded Nalifan, to no apparent effect. Nalifan drew his sword and advanced. "Nothing personal," said the drow. "My plans just won't survive you're interference." The runes on the blade blazed orange.

The high priest lunged. The drow sidestepped over the water, floating an inch above its surface and stabbed. The magic on the blade was potent and Nalifan's magically enhanced strength was superhuman. The blade punched through the high priest's armour and the potent bane spells placed on the blade flared to full life.

The high priest's flesh sizzled as the drow impaled him through the chest. Nalifan withdrew the blade from the chest of the dying man. The priest was trying to gasp out a spell from a throat filling with blood. Nalifan stepped back, raised his blade, and swung. The high priest's head splashed into the water and blood geysered up from the headless torso.

He cleaned the sword in the water and walked away. Blood spatter on his wards, suspended a fraction of an inch from his robes, ran down the planes of force and struck the floor in his wake leaving a trail of blood droplets. When he reached the door the guard at the front had fled rather than confront him. Nalifan smiled.

His position was not quite optimal to put his plan in motion. He floated above the crowds and flew ahead. He landed in a small square and flexed his fingers. "Leave!" he called out to the people standing nervously nearby. "If you value your lives run!"

They didn't need to be told again. Nalifan began to sing the words to a terrible spell and scattered ruby dust in a wide arc in front of him. The ruby dust glowed. Nalifan took a step back. It had begun.

A spider of living flame the size of his hand emerged from the dust. Then another and another. Some were larger, the size of cats or dogs. "Spread out and burn everything," the drow ordered his emerging army. A lesser version of this spell had wrecked havoc in Cormanthor. These fire spiders should serve his purpose nicely.

[The Nomad]

Is this a custom spell, or something official ?

[Imperial Overlord]

Is this a custom spell, or something official ?

Custom, although its just a souped up version of a level 5 or 6 spell in The Magic of Faerun called Fire Spiders.

[Umbras]

"The time has come." Trizkel thinks "To do some brutal things, to break thier bones, rend thier hearts and ruptur Banite spleens."

[Rogue 9]

Erm... Is burning down Westgate really necessary?

[Imperial Overlord]

Erm... Is burning down Westgate really necessary?

Well, Nalifan thinks starting a big fire is.

[LadyTevar]

Big Fires makes everyone turn out to beat them down. And I do mean everyone, including Nobles and other Mover/Shakers of the town.

Big Fires also means Priests run straight to their temples to protect them from being burnt down. Hello Banites, thanks for leading me to your temple. Hello Night Masks.. why are you protecting that empty house so heavily? Who could be down there?

[Imperial Overlord]

Lightning flashed from Astinius's hands. Down the street two black armoured Banites were blasted off their feet by the impact and wooden wall behind them was blackened and charred. "Oops," Astinius muttered. The bolt had gone a little further than he intended.

"Nice," said Gaheris, "but keep moving." The arch-mage ignored the temptation to further inspect his handiwork and hustled after Gaheris.

"They might still be alive," he said.

"Not important," said the paladin as he continued jogging. "You did the work by wounding them and encouraging the others to hang back. That means a wider net has to be thrown to cut down our options. Wider means thinner and that means we can concentrate where they are weak."

"Being dead will keep them out of the picture totally. Fewer is weaker."

"They might be dead. They might not. They'll have to stop to heal. And they're too close at the moment. We need distance and to discourage them from persuing to closely. Besides I don't want to fight them until they've had to run for a mile in those iron suits." He grinned.

The paladin lead them around a corner and up the street, angling towards the north east. "There's a bunch of alley ways ahead. With a little luck we can lose them completely and circle around to take them from behind. Failing that we can at least string them out." He cranned his neck looking back. Still no fliers. He half expected the rakshasa mage to appear a building any moment now, but the creature was keeping its head down. It probably didn't want to get a taste Astinius's spellfire or Imizael's magic.

The paladin lead his comrades across the street and into one a series of interconnected alleyways and side streets. The Banites had been pretty canny up to this point, it was probably too much to hope for that they didn't have another trick to play. That was fine with him. They weren't the only ones with a few surprises to play.

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Razhal Ironhand swore. "Cyric's withered testicles!" He pointed at the the two wounded men who had managed to pull themselves onto their knees. "Heal those two," he snapped at Trameka.

"Yes dreadlord," said the priest. They needed horses for this shit, but they hadn't been able to sneak them into the city with his men. Jarval Kreed hadn't seen the need for them and now he had to chase down a street bred thief through the alleys he grew up in on foot and in full plate. To Cyric with that.

He spoke words of power, invoking a pact struck some time ago with two denziens of Baator's first layer. A gush of warm wind struck him and then came the the stentch of brimstone and furnace like heat. A doorway of orange fire the size of a stable door appeared in the middle of the street. If there had still been bystanders on the street they would have surely fled upon seeing it.

A gloomy darkness half lit by a dull red light could be seen at the other end of the doorway. Then the scene was obscured as they stepped through. Coal black hounds the size of destriers. First one and then the other. There eyes blazed with unholy flames and heat shimmers danced around their mouths. The leader spoke in a language not ment for mortal ears. "You have called. We have come." The gateway behind them collapsed in a shower of orange sparks.

He answered in the same tongue. "I need you to hunt and harry a foe for me. Find him and pin him. A paladin and his minions."

There ears perked up. "Gladly," the second replied. "We long for such sweet meat." They tested the air with their noses and then loped away at the speed of a galloping horse.

"After them!" he shouted. His men obeyed readily enough. He watched them go and then retrieved an obsidian statuette from a pouch. It was roughly carved in the shape of a horse. It pulsed with malign magic.

The design of the magical figurine was not uncommon, more than a few existed in the Realms, but its power was. "Fryte," he said. The figurine vanished. Black smoke erupted in front of him. As it cleared he saw the nightmare. It was a huge fanged horse. midnight black and capable of a carrying an ogre on its back. Dagger sized incisors dominated a mouth full of fangs and his hooves were wreathed in fire. All the fires of the Gehenna glowed in his eyes and smoke jetted from his nostrils.

He seized its wild mane and pulled himself onto Fryte's back. "We have a paladin to hunt," he said. The nightmare blasted fire out of its nostrils in response. "Up," he said, "into the sky."

The nightmare launched itself off the cobbles, his hooves gaining purchase on air as if it was solid ground. Not even the swiftest mortal steed could challenge his speed. Razhal gestured at the rakshasa mage floating nearby. "With me," he called.

The rakshasa hesitated for a moment and then decided it might be wiser not to test the Imperceptor's patience. He floated towards the Banite. "We'll take them from above. The hounds will keep their attentions directed elsewhere as well as lead us straight to them. That is until we strike." He laughed. To ride again, to be free in the open air instead of cramped up in the temple, waiting for something to happen. This was glorious.

"Bane," he cried out, "thank you for this gift Black Lord." What could be better in life? The wind at his back, a foe to slay, women to rape, and a city at his feet. Life was sweet.

[Rogue 9]

Oho, so he's leaving his men behind, is he? Excellent.

[LadyTevar]

Blessed Mystra, let me be able to banish those things

[Imperial Overlord]

Screams of panic were the first sign that a new element had entered play. Gaheris had lead his companions around and behind the rickety buildings of the slum as part of his plan to out maneuver the Banites. The wary slum dwellers had cleared the street, but had continued observing, waiting for opportunities to reveal themselves. A few men in armour wouldn't be causing that wailing. Something terrible had been unleashed.

"Gar," asked Kaeryn, panting. "What do you think it is?"

"Nothing good," he replied. "Watch all sides. Its moving fast, whatever it is. Hit it hard and-" Crashing noises from the building next to him interrupted the conversation. The wall next to him exploded as a horse sized hound with blazing eyes smashed through the tenament's wall. Jaws that would have put a crocodile to shame lunged for Kaeryn's head.

Gaheris' blade cut it from shoulder to ribs, spilling flaming blood over the filfth coating the alley. Kaeryn twisted out of the way and swung her flail. The spiked head demolished the fiend's right eye in a splatter of gore.

The hound snapped at Kaeryn, causing the priestess to leap back out of the way. She slipped on a slick patch and fell to the ground. Astinius unleashed a ray of utter cold the struck the hound in the shoulder. The air around it literally froze, with patches of ice forming on the hound's hide. The hound fell to the ground as Gaheris severed the infernal creature's spine midway up its back.

The other hound flashed down the alley. The adventurer's turned to face it, but it was moving too quickly. Imizael was half way through a spell when it struck her. The high mage was knocked to the ground. Blood splattered the walls of nearby buildings as the hound worried her. Her screams lasted only for a moment.

Gaheris ran past the crippled hound, severing its spine with Bright Edge as he past. Flaming blood splattered him, but he ignored the pain. The hound was lunging towards Astinius. He wouldn't make it.

Astinius finished his spell. A brilliant beam of green light struck the hound. An intense flash consumed it and only traces of dust was left behind.

Gaheris extended his hand to Kaeryn and she took it as she pulled herself up. "Oh Imizael . . . ."

"No time," said Gaheris.

"I'll get her portable hole," said Astinius as he rooted through her belt. "Aha! We'll put her in and rez her with Morfindel. It'll be fine."

Kaeryn nodded. They all knew it wasn't going to be that easy, that even for a priestess of Kaeryn's power there were no guarrantees. But it was the best they could do and they had no time.

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

Rising columns of smoke from the harbour distracted Razhal for a moment. He was surprised the fire had spread so fast. If there was one thing the priests of Umberlee were good for it was making sure fire didn't threaten their temple or their livelyhood. If the fire spread much further it would be a real threat to the city, the great prize for which all this blood had been spent.

But first things first. The hounds had found Gaheris and his lackies. Flashes of magic confirmed their presence. The sly little Tyrian was trying to out maneuver him.

Razhal made hand sign gestures to his troops on the ground, redirecting them. A good effort by Gaheris, but not enough. This time there would be no escape for his band. They only fly in the ointment was the absence of the drow.

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Jarval Kreed frowned and redirected the image in the scrying bowl. A growing fire. It was spreading rapidly. Too rapidly. Something was feeding it for it to spread that fast. And why hadn't the priests of Umberlee dealt with it.

Then he made the connection. The drow. He was burning the city to flush them out. A fire was a wide front, one that would not only expose his men but spread them out. And if he declined to fight it the city might be lost and all of this would be for nothing.

"Cyric's rotting brain," he cursed. There was only one thing to do. Speak with that treacherous viper the Night King. He sat down, crosslegged, and began to invoke a spell.

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"It looks like they've been found," said Sylvetria. The two were floating invisibly over a roof top. The Vaasan's eyes were sharp and little escaped the Eyes of Arachnidae.

"Yah," said Trizkel. "They're closing on them. Those hounds ripped them up pretty good and slowed them down. Time to change the game."

She nodded. He looked at a group of Banites. "Time to dance."

[Imperial Overlord]

"At last," said Eyfen. Before the riders stretched the city of Westgate in all of its corrupt glory. "Not much longer now, my lord." Ydrek had been anxious and tempermental as of late. His men loved their lord, but it he had been getting increasingly unpleasant to be around.

"I see," said Ydrek. "I also see smoke. The city is burning. It seems we have arrived at a in moment of upheavel." His knights nodded in agreement. "Shall we shift the balance to the right?" he called out.

"Aye!"

"Shall we avenge a wrong?"

"Aye!"

"Shall the steel of the north carry the day?"

"Aye!" This was the man they fought for and loved. This man they would follow into the jaws of Gehenna. Ydrek nudged his horse into a canter and his men followed behind.

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Trizkel descended to the cobbles of Westgate's street behind a pack of four Banites. His elven boots made no sound whatsoever as he strode up behind the closest one and jammed Ruinbringer through the priest's gorget. Steel shrieked as the blade punched through and blood sprayed from the wounds. The other Banites turned to deal with the drow.

Humans, even elves, were slow compared to him. Not Nalifan, of course, but he wasn't going up against Nal. He side kicked one of the Banites hard enough to dent his breastplate and send him flying through the air to sprawl in the street a dozen yards away. Mind Eater he thrust into the groin, the gap in the left leg where the cuisse met the tassets. Blood fountain from the severed femeral artery. Trizkel kicked the dying human off of his blade.

The last was managing to swing at him with a spiked mace that was easy to sidestep. Trizkel clouted him in the head with his right hand and swept his legs out from under him. The drow kicked him in the side before his body hit the street, propelling him over to where the other Banite was bleeding out.

The one he had initialy kicked managed to gasp out a spell. A whip of brilliant scarlett energy materialized at the end of his hand. The lash cracked through the air at the drow. Trizkel blocked it with his left forarm and the whip disintigrated in a shower of red sparks. He sheathed Mind Eater and moved in on the two Banites still on the ground.

The bleeder was chanting healing spells. The other had regained his feet and swung at him again. Trizkel caught his wrist with his left hand and held him still for a moment before wrenching the arm up, exposing the armpit. Ruinbringer slid in, tearing open lungs, arteries and the heart. Blood gushed out and the Banite toppled.

The downed Banite swung at his legs. Trizkel stepped back, stepped in right after the blow past, and stabbed the Banite in the neck. More blood splatter. His ears told him that the last Banite was charging him, but he didn't need them to tell him that. He could see in every direction, thanks to the Eyes of Arachnidae. He waited for the last possible moment before dodging to the side.

He lashed out with his leg, tripping the charging priest. He fell face first to the cobbles. Trizkel dropped Ruinbringer, seized the Banite's helm, and twisted until he heard bones break. He then retrieved his weapon. The skies were growing dark. Too swiftly. He could see the the streamers of magic drawing the clouds in together. Someone wanted rain.

He looked up at Sylvetria and met her gaize. "I think Nal's got somebody's attention."

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The drow floated invisibly above the spreading line of fire spiders that was the vanguard of his conflagration. No mundane fire brigade could survive the advancing elementals, let alone get close enough to fight the spreading fires they left in their wake. Most of Westgate fled the advancing holocaust.

The fires had to be stopped, of course. If Westgate burned all of the treasure and blood and risk taken by the Nightmasks and their allies would be for nothing. They would have revealed their strength to the entire Dragon Coast and lost they powerbase they intended to use to subjugate the rest. Not only were their temples and hideouts threatened, but their plans of conquest as well.

Only magic and discipline could stop these fires and there was only three forces free to do that in the growing chaos. They would have to spread themselves out to combat the fires and in doing so they would become his prey. The drow smiled cruelly. They were caught in his web now.

Overhead the skies grew dark. Magics were in play. The vampires were calling on the weather, to blot out the sun as a fall back should they venture forth and their protections from daylight fail and to retard the grow of the fire with rain.

He had anticipated this move, not that that required a tremendous amount of intelligence on his part. The rain alone wouldn't be enough. Not now, with the populace reaching the snapping point and Trizkel and Gaheris and everyone else painting the streets red with blood. It would wound the spiders and slow the growth of the flames, but it wouldn't kill them. They would need to do more, much more. He would be here, in the center of his web, waiting for them to reveal themselves. Time was on his side. He could wait.

[Imperial Overlord]

Shadow feel on Gaheris and he looked to up. The clouds were massing with unnatural speed. He surveyed the sky and found his answers. The creaking tenaments blocked much of his view of the city, but they couldn't hide the rising columns of smoke. The city was burning and someone, or several someones, was conjuring rain. He didn't have time to worry about that right now.

The rakshasa was coming back. It was peaking around the side of a building two blocks away. And then he saw what was riding over the top of the rickety tenement, flaming hooves and all.

He ducked back into the alley. "Astinius, Kaeryn, cover us." He closed his eyes and reached out with his heart and soul.

"What are you doing?" Kaeryn asked and a soft, white light pushed back the shadows and the darkness. The glow faded, but left behind a traveller in its wake. A magnificent griffin, saddled and barded for war. Intelligence gleamed in the raptor-eyes of the hybrid creature.

Gaheris ran forward, hooked a foot into a stirrup, and swung into the saddle. "Keep them off us. Razhal's overdue for a fall," he said. "Out and up Percivel."

The griffin ran out of the alley and into the street. With more room available Percival extended his wings and beat at the air. Paladin and steed rose into the sky as the rain began to fall.

The rakshasa unleashed a blast of killing frost, but it dissipated harmlessly before it reached him, undone by Astinius's spells. The rakshasa then collapsed inward and its ability to defy gravity failed. Scraps and fragments of rakshasa flesh and bone joined the rain in falling upon the streets of Westgate.

Gaheris drew the lance out the scabbard on Percival's saddle. The two foot long lance head of enchanted mithril-steel glinted in the fading light. Ilmater have mercy, he could see the full extent of fires from here. Gods what a nightmare. No time now. An Imperceptor badly needed killing.

He could see figures closing on the Astinius' and Kaeryn's position. They would be too busy fighting for their lives to offer him much help. He unslung the kite shield with the Tyr's scales painted on it and prepared to charge.

Razhal was above him, waiting. The nightmare rested on the air as if it was solid ground, flames licking from its hooves and nostrils. In the cleric's right hand was a lance of barbed black steel. In his left with the familiar silver rod tipped with gold.

Lightning lashed over Gaheris and Percivel as Razhal once again unleashed the rod's fury. Where the bolts touched flesh burns welled up and flesh turned angry red or was seared black, but neither man nor beast was felled. There were forces other than those that preached of the greatness of a ruthless will or poisoned malice that had a say in the ordering of the world and they would not let one of their champions fall so easily. Wounded but undaunted, the paladin pressed forward.

The rain was coming down in torrents now as Percival surged up. Razhal spurred Fryte into motion and knocked his lance under his arm with the familiarity of long use. He had killed countless men from horse back with lance, mace, and spell. Gaheris would be just one more.

Above the burning city, above the war in the streets, the champions of good and evil clashed in a collision of metal and flesh, magic and faith. Gaheris' lance smashed through even the enchanted protecting Razhal Ironhand's body. The lance ripped through the half-orc's gut and punched out through his backplate.

Razhal's lance had found its own mark. The barbed lance had struck the griffin just under the shoulder and penetrated deep into Percival's body. As their combined momentum threw the combatants together, Fryte kicked as the griffin's wings with burning hooves and bit at Percival's wing root with its fanged maw.

Gaheris yanked brutally on his lance, twisting Razhal about in the saddle while the paladin attempted to shed his shield. He needed his arm free now. Razhal kept a grip on his lance and twisted the barbed weapon and then pulled. Blood gushed from Pervical's wound as Fryte bite down, crippling the griffin's wing.

Percival twisted his head and opened his beak wide. It snapped down hard and Fryte's neck was severed in a geyser of smoking black blood. The corpse of the nightmare began to fall, taking its rider with him. But Percival's lance wound was mortal and even if it didn't exist the damage Fryte had done to the griffin's wing was severe. The noble griffin's strength failed and he to began to fall.