Starday Morning, Fireseek 15, 591 Common Year

Indranil enjoys dinner with his friends. He waits until everyone has finished and become more settled to clear his throat and say, “Friends it has been a long night and full day and everyone has worked very hard. We started late last night, fought a major battle and then secured our position. Unfortunately it appears we are not yet able to rest yet, we still have much to do to prepare for tonight and there is much to discuss before we set our watch schedule and get some much needed rest before the morrow.”

“First, let’s start with the reports from the scouting parties, work crews and Rain who led an investigation of the entrances with Father Gar, Aramek and Adelina. Sir Lorindel, please tell us what you found.”

Lorindel reports, “The scouts and I have not found any other entrances or exits, either around the bog or on either of the mounds. There only appear to be the five entrances, the main one at the head of the pathway, and the four around the middle of the large mound. All are sturdy wooden doors inset ten feet into the mound, bound with iron and trapped with a glyph.”

“Thank you Sir Lorindel. That is somewhat disappointing to learn there are no secret doors accessible to us.”

“Sergeant Apone, what are the results of your collecting fuel for the next 24 hours? Do we have enough to fire each of the five entrances – minimally through the night?”

Sergeant Apone says, “Yes, it will take us a few more hours, but with the help of Chief Rahk’s warriors, which they have been giving already, we should have enough wood to create a fire in front of each door.”

“Thank you. After dinner, please put together a work crew to complete the collection effort.”

Newt holds her hand up to comment about that.

Indranil looks over at Newt and says, “Adelina do you have something to add to Sergeant Apone’s report?”

Newt says, “As an alternative to fires at all doors, perhaps we could bury the doors we don’t want to open up, ‘though I’m not sure if that would save us any labor.”

Indranil nods his head and says, “We will need all our ideas and that is a possibility. Rain, please tell us what you found and what your team’s recommendations are.”

Rain replies, “As some of you know by now there are four additional entrance doors further up the mound each facing a different cardinal direction. That makes five entrances in total. Each seems to be protected by a warding glyph of significant power. Only one who knows the secret password can bypass them. Father Gar believes he can dispel the warding but he will not be able to attempt it till tomorrow. If that is unsuccessful then we suggest attempting to trip it from afar, perhaps by tossing one of our late bone friends over there into the glyph. If none of those tricks work, then I could attempt to disarm one of them. It would be very tricky and dangerous given the potency, but I am willing to try.” Looking at Aramek, Gar and Newt she says, “Anything to add?”

Shaking her head Newt replies, “No.”

Gar raises his hand and begins without waiting for a further response. “Milords and miladies, I should be able dispel one or two of the wards tomorrow, not more, if we cannot open the trap otherwise to get inside.”

Indranil is cheered by the optimism of Father Gar. “Aramek and Adelina what can you add?”

Newt says, “They have guards immediately inside each of the doors, listening for whatever they can pick up of our plans and actions. I’m not certain how many guards are inside.”

Indranil looks at Aramek and asks, “Aramek?”

Aramek shakes his head, “I have nothing further to add.”

Gar butts in again to the group after scratching his head, “Excuse me milords. Can someone please explain to me why this particular magic ward is so dangerous? Why can’t we set it off using firewood or something and see what happens? Why is our most gifted locksmith, Guardsman Rain, so reluctant to tackle it? I am curious.”

“I think the problem is that we don’t know how dangerous the glyphs are, Father Gar.” Fingol answers, “If we knew they were harmless we might simply ignore them. If we knew they were lethal, we might try to dig our way into the mound and bypass them entirely.  As it is, we have to use our best judgment and decide how to deal with them.”

“Thank you, Sir Fingol,” begins Gar, “I am not one to let fear stop the acquisition of knowledge. I would not hesitate to throw rocks or limbs at the glyph from outside the entrance, just to see what would happen. If this council decides to take that action, of course. I see no reason to waste magic upon the doors if all mundane options have not been fully explored.”

Fingol responds, “I agree. It’s my thought that if a glyph is not triggered by piling firewood on the doors, it might be destroyed by burning the door. In which case, your magic might prove more useful inside the mound. As I doubt these are the last traps they have laid for us. However, we shouldn’t set off the wards until we are ready; either for our attack or to mount a defense against a counterattack. It appears that the Deathwalkers are content to wait behind their warded doors, at least for now. For now, it suits us to let them wait.”

Indranil states, “The issue is that the five doors are warded with magic which I am told is of a powerful and deadly kind. We are not just going to start throwing things at it and risk blowing us all to hell and back. As it is magic I was hoping our sorcerer and our cleric would lead the investigation to understand them. Father Gar and Aramek I ask again what can you tell us about the magic glyphs and how might you suggest we defeat them?”

Gar looks incredulous at Indranil. “Milord, I just answered your questions, would you like me to repeat my answer more slowly?”

Indranil face turning red states, “Father Gar I grow weary of your insolence.  You have answered nothing. Your answer was vague. You can’t tell us what kind of magic it is nor how powerful it is. Nor can you tell us if you can, with certainty, disable it; nor how many times you could do so. You best recommendation was “mundane efforts” to throw things at the doors or let Rain try picking the lock with the threat that she could kill herself. As this is magic I expect you to lead this effort not sit back with insolent comments and let others do your work. If you cannot add value then be silent.”

“Milord,” responds Gar who does not know what it means to be silent, “I answered all that I know. I have a spell to dispel wards. I have volunteered to prepare one or two versions of it for the morrow. You may not have more than that. Although like Sir Fingol, I would prefer we find alternative ways to dispel it and save the magic for when we get inside the mound, where there are sure to be more wards. Then I followed up with questions with what I don’t know. If my assistance is not required, then I will shut up. However, if you want me help, you will need to listen to me.” Gar neither smiles or frowns. He just looks at Indranil. Turning to Sir Fingol, Gar bows without standing and says, “Thank you milord for answering my questions so thoroughly.”

Aramek, quite out of character and losing patience, quietly but forcefully says, “Enough! My lords, Father Gar,” he looks at them all. “I am not adept enough at the moment to be able to dispel magic wards.  If Father Gar can do that and if it’s turns out to be necessary, then I suggest we allow him to do so. Meanwhile, talk of throwing things such as bones, sticks or stones at these doors is a complete waste of time. I suggest we set aside our animosities and get back to quietly figuring out what our next action is to be. This constant bickering among ourselves serves no purpose but the enemies.”

With that, Aramek remains angrily silent.

Gar first raises his eyebrows and then bows his head in appropriate remorse.

Rain follows up by placing her hand on Aramek’s shoulder and saying quietly “Quite right, Aramek. My understanding of these types of traps is that when discharged they detonate. This causes damage to those near the discharged glyph. It may be possible to discharge them from a distance, but I do not know how. I would be very surprised if something thrown into them did the trick, they are magical traps not physical after all. While I am certainly up for the task of attempting to disarm a glyph, I have both Aramek and Newt urging me against the attempt. I trust their judgment. We can try throwing some things into the glyph from a safe distance… say greater than 15 feet. If that fails I suggest we allow Father Gar to unleash his ward destroying magic upon one of them.”

Fingol steps forward. ”I think we are getting needlessly irritated with one another.” Fingol can’t help glancing at Father Gar as he says this. “I also think we are assuming a great deal about each other’s plans and why they won’t work. All these concerns are valid, but it’s not impossible to find a solution which counters all of them. If we use a rope to pull the first logs onto the doors, than no one is risked by getting close to it until we find out if a log will set it off. Then, if wood does not set it off, we can get within … how close did you say, Rain? 15′? And build up the woodpile. Father Gar can start the fire from twice that distance. For that matter, Father Gar might be able to burn the doors apart without the need for wood. However, a fire would be a way to prevent the Deathwalkers from counterattacking. As I said earlier, I doubt if the ward would survive if the door does not. Still, Father Gar and Guardsman Aramek can use their abilities to tell us if the ward is still somehow still effective after the door collapses. At that point Father Gar would have to use his magic. You may all debate these ideas of course, but I would expect they can be refined further. Still it is an example of how we can find solutions by listening to each other.”

Gar listens attentively, nodding affirmatively throughout Fin’s summary of the situation.

Indranil says, “Quite right Sir Fingol, thank you. This is simply an idea sharing time. Decisions will be made later. And, we will not attempt any task until we have discussed all our ideas thoroughly. There is no need to be hasty at this point.

“Father Gar, would you please explain something about your magic? I am most concerned whether dispelling of traps reduces the use of your healing spell; which we will need to counter the debased priest inside. You stated you could dispel up to two glyphs – tomorrow after resting tonight – but that would then limit your further use of magic if we find more traps inside. Will using your magic to dispel traps also reduce your healing spell or are they two independent spells? We will have to think carefully about using any magic that reduces your effectiveness against his life stealing spell.”

Gar nods his head and considers his words. “Sir Indranil, each morning after I meditate, I pray to share in the god’s miraculous power. These are what you call my “spells.” Obad Hai has granted me many rare spells, mostly in my dreams, most I have never used before. This is one such spell. In addition to these limited number of spells each day, I have powers that are related to my special domains. As you may have been able to guess, I have domain over fire and weather. Because of this, I can breathe fire all day long. It is my favorite and most effective weapon, milord. I can also cause a storm blast of wind and rain as often as I desire. You have witnessed both many times. On top of all this, I can channel life giving positive energy, as many as eight times each day. When I do so, the living are healed and undead are repelled. However that does not protect us from the evil cleric’s negative energy. It simply heals us after he damages us. So, no, Sir Indranil none of these spells to which I refer will decrease my ability to channel positive energy and repel undead. They are different altogether.”

Indranil bows to Father Gar, “Thank you Father Gar. That is tremendously helpful, I am ignorant of the ways of magic and greatly value your tutelage in its fine points. I fear I may not retain all you told me so please do not be angry if I ask you again.” Indranil smiles as he says this.

Gar laughs too, finally relaxed.

Indranil asks, “Do you have any positive energy spells left for today that you can do tonight? I am sure you will find some irony in my next question… Chief Rahk is still not fully healed… Perhaps he could benefit from more of your healing power? Now that we have decided not to attack today but rather to bottle them up overnight, I think the benefit of fully healing Chief Rahk to ensure he is at peak for tomorrow’s attack is worth the risk. What do you think good sir?”

Gar stands up and bows deep to Chief Rahk. Striding silently across the circle, Gar fondles his little Green Man and calls out to nature, “Obad-Hai! Your friends Chief Rahk and I call upon you for healing once more.” Gar lays his left hand upon the chief’s shoulder with a smile upon his face as he heals his last wounds.

Returning to his spot in the circle Gar announces, “I have some questions for Obad-Hai….” Gar bows to Indranil, who returns the bow, and sits down. “Please continue milord. I can listen to you and commune with the gods at the same time.” Sitting in a half lotus, spine upright, his eyes begin to flutter as he slips into a trance, though his eyes are still open.

Rain says, “These glyphs are in the form of faint traceries of light, which are damned near impossible to see unless you know what to look for. When completed by the priest he undoubtedly set some sort of password or action that will allow passage through the doorway without triggering the effect. Without it, we are liable to be affected by attempting to enter, break or even touch the doorway. Activating the glyph in this way will cause some sort of blast or harmful effect in the area around the glyph, roughly three to five yards out. I can attempt to disrupt a glyph, but this is nothing like pick… er… fixing something as simple as a lock.” She smiles at her own slip, and then sobers. “This would be the most difficult thing of this sort I have ever attempted, and incredibly dangerous. Again I would like Father Gar to attempt disrupting it using magic first, but if that should fail I am more than willing to give it a try.”

Aramek follows Rain’s comment with, “I’m not that certain that even Father Gar has the power to disable these glyphs. I believe that, while they may bar us from entering, by barricading each exit with bonfires and shutting off their air circulation, we will be able to force them to come out without endangering any of us,” and he looks at Rain, “while trying to disable their wards. The best I could do, at this point, is study the warding to figure out what type it is.  But I feel that would be wasted effort as well, since disabling it may not be on option.”

“I don’t believe learning more about the glyphs is wasted effort,” Fingol starts in “even if we cannot disable the glyphs. Father Gar says that he can protect a person from different types of harm. Perhaps this would be enough to save someone from serious harm when they open the door. Although, as you say, it would be preferable to force them out, rather than finding a way in.”

Newt says, “My Lords, it occurs to me that perhaps they have exaggerated the power of the glyphs even to their own men. Although their men believe the magic will melt our flesh, we don’t really know how strong the glyphs are.”

Indranil looks around the circle and nods towards Rain and Aramek saying, “Rain and Aramek thank you,” and then to all, “and thank you to all for your hard work so far today. Let us put the planning on gaining entry aside for a moment as I need to bring something to everyone’s attention that could very well color our decisions quite differently. Young Adelina came to me midday with some intriguing news. Intriguing in its content as well as the question on how she was able to obtain it. Adelina, I am sorry to put you on the spot but the time is here for you to be fully forthcoming with us all. Our lives depend on your answers. Everyone here trusts you and understands you have our best interests at heart.”

Newt’s jaw drops. Her eyes turn to Sir Indranil, hurt and shocked at this betrayal of her confidence! After the initial shock she squares her shoulders, sets her lips in a tight line, and silently attends as Indranil relates what she gleaned from the minds of the Deathwalkers about their motives, their disposition, the Adept, and the presence of Reece and Relikez.

Though he doesn’t let on to anyone just how shocked he is, Aramek is stunned by this news as a myriad of emotions pass through his mind. How can this be? How can I ever tell Master Parwyn? Reece came out here to try to find a way to defeat the Scarlet Brotherhood. Perhaps I can find a way to let him know that Westkeep is no longer under their sway. That his father and mother are frantic about his whereabouts. There must be some way I can get through to him.

Fingol can see that Aramek is struggling to maintain his composure, and actually doing a really good job of it.

Indranil concludes, saying, “I believe you all recall our final audience with the Prince in Westkeep when Aramek read to us from a certain diary? I believe our cracking this nut below our feet has suddenly become a bit more difficult and dangerous. We are now facing three evil sorcerers. What say you all now?”

Gar whispers softly, “A witch I like.”

Already pissed off, Newt’s head whips around, eyes shooting daggers at Gar. After a split second of dagger eyes, Adelina looks a bit confused. Wait a moment – did he say, “A witch he likes”?

Gar is oblivious to Newt’s reaction.

Rain leans over to Newt and says quietly, “So you really think that priest exaggerated the power of those glyphs to his Deathwalkers?”

Newt calms herself then whispers to Rain “I only know that their troops believe the glyph will kill us. But if you were an evil priest and wanted your troops to feel secure, why would you tell them your glyphs were only so-so? Maybe the glyphs aren’t so potent as the Deathwalkers believe. But that’s just me thinking. Could be really bad, like we first thought.”

Indranil can see that Adelina is deeply upset and this almost breaks his heart. He looks at her sadly and says, “Adelina, I remind you of what I told you earlier today before you confided in me that. I told you I would not keep secrets that would endanger us. All our lives are at stake and a wrong decision can kill us all. We are a small party alone in the middle of the Hool camped upon an enemy fortress with three evil sorcerers inside. As commander I must have all the information I can to make the least bad decision for us tomorrow. I – we – need your help. So I must ask, who are you and how do you know these things?”

Newt, with the verbal venom only a slighted teen girl can muster spits out, “What does that matter, so long as the information I gave you is correct? And it is!”

Rain stands and with a neutral, almost confrontational, voice says, “Sir Indranil, are you sure you want to pursue this here and now?”

Lorindel comes up to Rain and places a hand on her shoulder. “Think about what he says and you’ll know it is necessary,” he says. “In different times and under other circumstances I would validate your questioning. But neither time nor peace are luxuries we possess.”

Rain’s look of discontent diminishes though she does not sit. She seems a bit antsy like she has made up her mind about some course of action and is itching to be about it.

Indranil stands, drawing himself to his full height and sternly says, “Enough! I am tired of the games and bickering. We are losing daylight and we still have much to do tonight to prepare. We are in the middle of a battle. Yes, Guardsman Rain, in fact now is the time. How do we know it is correct? You want us to determine our battle plans on intelligence that has not been corroborated and or validated? That is not sound tactics. As long as I am military commander of this expedition I will do as I see fit in order to make sure you all return to Westkeep alive. This girl we saved and adopted into our small war party seems to have resources at her command that materially impact us all and could be the difference between life and death. Each one of us has put our life on the line to save her and find her parents. It is time she returned our trust with trust of her own. Battle is trial by fire and fire the test of steel. It is time she grew up.”

Indranil turns to Newt and says, “Now stop pouting and speak up. You may keep your past to yourself but I want to know how you know these things.”

Chief Rahk also stands and draws himself up to his full height and hisses to get everyone’s attention. “I agree. Sir Indranil is wise. I almost died the first time I attacked this place because I did not know what I was facing. Many good warriors died because of my ignorance. We cannot trust ourselves to the guesses of a child unless there is good reason to do so. And we must know if her sources of information are trustworthy are part of some trap that perhaps even she is not aware of.”

Rain remains where she is, next to Newt, and says nothing.

“Adelina,” Fingol says in a calmer tone, “You say you do not need to explain yourself because we already believe you. Well, we would all like to believe you, but evasiveness destroys credibility. Please share all that we can. Many have already died here in part to find clues to find your family.”

Indranil sits back down and nods at Chief Rahk and Sir Fingol. Leaning close to Fingol’s ear he says quietly, “Bless you sir. I do believe your diplomatic skills have come into their own.”

Gar snaps out of his trance. “It’ll be okay Newt. They’ll understand.”

Newt, flummoxed by Gar, sputters, “You… you stay out of it!”

Lorindel says to Newt, “Please, do as my brother asks. Though your battle is a personal one, it is bigger than just you and your family. It is apparent you have gifts beyond what you present. As Sir Indranil has said, your secrets are yours to keep. However, before we can act though, we need to know we have chosen the correct path.” Lorindel then returns to his seat.

Indranil bows his head to his brother acknowledging his words saying, “Your words are wise and a soothing balm to the pain I have been forced to cause. I welcome them brother.”

Newt glares at Indranil. The glare lasts a long time in an awkward silence. Finally, she says, “I see things,” as if she expects Indranil to understand.

“By the Goddess Adelina that is wonderful!  How much control do you have over what you see?”

Newt, in a quiet and thoroughly miserable tone, responds, “I don’t get visions like a priest might. That’s not what I meant. Let me think about how it’s worked in the past, so I can speak clearly just once – it will save many questions.” She pauses a few moments before continuing, ”When I ‘see’ things, I see what is in a creature’s head. And I don’t know how much control I have. It wasn’t very long before I met you that I learned I could do it at all, and I’ve never spoken of it before. I didn’t want to. People wouldn’t understand.” She looks around at the people in the council, afraid of what she might find in their eyes. “You must think I’m a feak now, or maybe a witch. But if I am, I didn’t now it. I didn’t mean to be.” She finishes, somewhat lamely, “Anyway, sometimes it works when I try it, and other times it doesn’t. I’ve never thought to test it by method. I just don’t know.”

Rain puts her hand on Newts shoulder in support.

Gar tries to give her a reassuring smile.

Xalakae succeeds in picking up Indranil’s thoughts. S/he finds that he does feel very badly for having to put such pressure on Newt, but he knows the safety of everyone requires it. Now that he is in command he knows what people mean when they say it’s lonely at the top. Now he gets it. He’s truly worried about making the wrong decisions and getting people killed. He is very grateful for Chief Rahk and his brother Lorindel’s support. He is also increasingly bewildered and consternated by all the vagaries of magic and the supernatural that are making everything so unpredictable. He idly wonders if Newt sees dead people.

Indranil says, “I can assure you that I do not think you a freak. I am not much for labels and titles. Your friend Rain and I have had a few long, thoughtful conversations about that. We are who we are and we are what we do. I judge not by titles and labels but by action and deed. Out here we are all we have and rely on each other. Rest easy Adelina you are amongst friends. I am sorry to push you… I know this causes you pain… but I must…I am growing more and more concerned about our situation. Learning that Reece and Relikez are here and that we face not one but three sorcerers I count our chances of success getting inside and winning a battle as quite diminished now. We need to use every possible skill we have amongst us to stay alive and win the day. I think you are still reluctant to tell us everything about what you can do. We do not think less of you, in fact you may be the very one to save us all. I have sensed since we found you that you were key to this mission. Please tell us everything. Hold back nothing.”

Newt, her curiosity piqued, asks, “My lord, who are Reece and Relikez? Are they known to you? By your leave, I could go to the doors and try to learn more of them. Also, we have Father Gar and good Aramek. Surely they even the odds considerably. Why, the Deathwalkers only outnumber us in mages, and only by one.”

Rain asks, “Why do we believe them to be sorcerers?”

Gar raises his hand and speaks without waiting further. “Sir Indranil, you asked our opinion about Reece and Relikez. Here is my opinion. Our plans are good and solid. We must move forward without unhealthy fear blocking our course of action. Perhaps it would be best to focus on smoking them out, rather than sending Rain in as a spy. That is up to you to decide. However, when I count our clerics and sorcerers, we are even with those inside, if perhaps somewhat less experienced.”

Erratic social skills or not, Newt feels warmly toward Father Gar upon hearing this, and turns a small, quick smile of gratitude his way.

Gar still seems oblivious to Adelina’s seesawing emotions.

Indranil syas, “Father Gar, I am delighted you are so sanguine about our chances. Please tell how you consider us as even? I count two for us and three for them, with one of them being a powerful death cult priest far stronger than either you or Aramek. It would be like me fighting Chief Rahk!”

Gar just blinks and smiles silently, eyes lowered, not meeting anyone’s gaze.

“Aramek,” Fingol says with a stronger tone, “perhaps, you could tell us why you shudder to hear the names Reece and Relikez,”

“Sir Fingol, I’m filled with many different emotions and questions right now,” Aramek replies. “As you know, Reece is my master’s missing son and Relekez, Reece’s friend. According to his diary entries, he suffered greatly during the occupation of Westkeep by the Scarlet Brotherhood and finally lost hope when his beloved was taken away for betrothed enslavement. He came out here to the marsh to find a way to fight the Brotherhood. It’s my impression that he may have been a bit of a ne’er-do-well, but not necessarily evil. Certainly he loved his parents and his fiancé. And I’m not so sure that he’s a, as you said, powerful sorcerer. My reading of his diary did not leave me with the impression that either he or Relekez were powerful sorcerers. My main concern is that I may now be involved in bringing about his death, when my intention all along has been simply to find word of his whereabouts. This is causing me great confusion and pain.” Aramek looks down at the ground with a heavy heart.

Fingol nods. “I understand very well. Sir Indranil told me that Newt believed he was inside, and I felt the same conflict. I would not want to use the potions Master Parwyn gave us to assassinate his son. To speak nothing of the friendship I feel for the father. If it is at all possible, I would prefer to capture them. They will have to be taken in custody back to Westkeep, but perhaps they would understand that the prince means only good for the town and they would disavow their evil. This might be a wild hope, but I think we are all here thanks to the power of hope. It might help us if we knew what profession Reece was apprenticed into. Do you recall if that is mentioned in his journal? I have been assuming he is a sorcerer or wizard because Master Parwyn mentioned that he kept a snake as a familiar. Still it would make more sense that he would be apprenticed as an alchemist to take over his father’s shop.”

Gar feels the same as Aramek and Fingol, so he chirps to the group, “I agree. We must bring Reece home with us alive at all costs. The others are expendable and can be killed.”

Fingol says, “Perhaps when you rest and pray, Obad-Hai can grant you some magic that will help us capture Reece.”

“Hmmm,” muses Gar, “Yes, maybe, I’ll contemplate it and let you know what I can come up with. And oh, by the way, when I tried to call upon Obad-Hai a few moments ago, my prayer was picked up by some lower level deva with a thick accent who told me that Obad-Hai was busy right now but that he will answer all my questions at our regularly scheduled meditation time tomorrow.” Gar rolls his eyes and smiles, “gods…”

Indranil asks, “Why is capturing Reece and not Relikez desirable? For that matter why is capturing them at all interesting?”

Gar raises his hand and speaks simultaneously, “Milords, since I made the original statement, Reece’s appearance brings in a host of familial and friendship obligations for several of us here. Relikez is incidental. Anything we could learn from Relikez, we can learn from Reece.”

Half listening to the conference, Newt considers what just happened and the injustice of it. They said they needed to know if they could trust the information she gave. Now that she has told them how she got the information, did that somehow make it more valid? She didn’t think so. This conclusion angers her. She stops that line of thought and attends to the conversation, recognizing that they all need to focus to deal with these Deathwalkers.

Fingol says, “I think we would like to capture them both. However, it would be difficult to capture either, I would think. I hadn’t set my sights quite that high to capture them both. If it can be done, I would like to try. The advantages are several; they can be questioned for more information about the Deathwalkers. They may even know where the city is, or something about it. The most compelling reason, though, is our relationship to Master Parwyn. It would be difficult to face him and have to tell him that we brought about his son’s death.”