~ The Dwarven Blockade: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

On their way to the Temple of Anhur, Rinder's Six (except for their unruly dwarf) continue to discuss the events of late, each recalling his or her own part and reflecting upon it.

When Paros turned on Hannibal, the thief recalled, he was sure it was because the Warlock could read his thoughts. He suddenly felt very pale and weak, unable to do nothing more than stare back in horror. The voice that rang in his head did nothing to ease him and soon Hannibal found himself slowly retreating to the room, oblivious to anything else around him. Finding the stairs that they come by, he had quickly left the room and waited for Crayne in the corridor above.

"What worries me, though," Emma says, "Is that if Paros has the ability to project voices into the minds of others...like Dire Luthor...what other powers might he command? We've all seen what Dire could do, and even he admitted his spells were based more upon illusion than anything else. What if Paros' magic is more powerful than that?"

The priestess eyes Crayne with more than a little bit of worry upon her face...and some hope, too, that maybe the Highbrow can even the odds with his own magic if Rinder's Six has to face Paros. She still feels that she's too uneducated on spellcraft to deal with the wizard alone.

Crayne nods, "Your worries are well justified Emma. I fear we are dealing with one of great power who has taken it upon himself to adhere to the King. This bound he has made with Sir Bryant could well be magically created." Crayne steps around a merchant's cart in the street as he continues his thoughts aloud. "If my darkest suspicions are confirmed then this tie could be of great danger to Rinder and must be destroyed. We may not be of the same power, but we are growing and I am more than sure that before long we will be able to face Paros as equals. He sniffs and coughs at my power at present, but the man is naive and crass. We will see who has the last laugh!" Crayne says with a stern look on his face.

Crayne tries to make sure that the party believes that he is confident that Paros will be brought down. Nevertheless, horrible thoughts do begin to cross his mind. With Rinder's Six becoming so popular and regarded as a strong thorn in the side of Caerloon's current war effort, surely it was only time before Rinder's Six would be pursued by the Red Dragon School. Now with the meeting with Paros this perhaps might well have fired up more anger in the heart of the Red Dragon School. And as Paros had said, Crayne was still only an apprentice and had a lot to learn. It was unlikely that Crayne could protect the party from a party of mages if they were to attack. However, there was one thing that did give Crayne some strong hope and that was the ring that his uncle Karelth had spoken of. One which Crayne believed could have a great deal of power held within it. As soon as the treaty was renogotiated it was imperative that it be identified.

As Crayne speaks, Hannibal remembers briefly the powers of Dire from the battle at the fort. He shudders to think of what horrors this Paros could unleash. He feels the new lump in the fold of his boot, his latest purchase in town. It seemed he may now have two uses for this new item should the chance arrive.

"The man we should see at the temple," Emma explains as the large structure comes into view, "is Towers. He's also a high priest of Anhur, and if anyone is capable of discerning the proper course, I'm sure it will be him," she explains, "He was present at our last meeting with Sir Bryant, and should have noticed Paros even then. Perhaps Anhur revealed to him the nature of the wizard and he might have been carefully watching him since. At least, I hope that might be the case. It's better than nothing, I suppose..."

Hannibal is a little reluctant to enter the Temple but does so grudgingly. Ever since Melinda he had cast off gods of all kinds, thinking them to be ignorant and uncaring of the events of the world. Emma had brought him back somewhat over their days together but he was not fully there yet, not by a longshot.

"Odd," Emma confides to Rinder's Six just out of earshot of Fallon, on their way to Towers's office, "Most temples of Anhur keep the offices of the high priests above the ground floor. The sub-levels are usually reserved for the prison system and housing the criminals that are found guilty...like Lady Hannah back in Seden."

Then, they reach the door to Towers's office. With a deep breath, Emma pushes the door open.

"What is this?!" the man howls, "I ordered no interruptions!!"

"My apologies, your holiness," Emma apologizes. She swallows hard, sending a nervous glance over her shoulder to her friends and comrades behind.

"Well!?" Towers demands, lowering his quill to the desk and leaning back in his chair, "what is it, then?"

Completely taken aback by the high priest's surliness, Emma is struck speechless for a few seconds. Her thoughts about her growing confidence due to her travels with Rinder's Six fade away as if they never existed. Her face begins to blush in embarrassment at having her friends see Towers act in such a way...as well as see her called down by him. "Y-your, Holiness," she stammers, "This is Rinder's Six. We've come to speak with you about a matter of great importance. We seek your counsel and advice...y-your wisdom and Anhur's as well."

She moves into the office, making room for the rest of the group to spread our around her. Taking strength in their numbers, she summons her courage and speaks as clearly as possible, bringing Towers up to speed on their accomplishments, as well as the current situation with the Dwarven blockade and their suspicions of Paros' involvement. "So you see, Your Holiness," Emma finishes, "We need your help. We must find something to convince the newly-appointed King Bryant to reevaluate the trust he places in his closest advisor. Otherwise, I fear that the Dwarven Pact will go unaddressed, costing us valuable allies in the days of war that lie ahead for our country. Can you aid us?"

Crayne remains silent as he listens to Emma speak with her superior. He is impressed by the middle aged man that sits near. With strong eyes and a strong presence within the room Crayne can see that this man possesses much wisdom and a power that he could not associate himself with. Crayne stands there eagerly waiting for Towers's response.

Hannibal only rolls his eyes, disgusted by the man's obvious pompous attitude. "Leave it to a man of god to think he better than other men," Hannibal mutters to himself, but taking no precautions not to be overheard by any of the others.

The thief shakes his head and looks for the nearest chair. Finding one of suitable comfort, he sits down and begins to pick at his nails with the stilletto Storm had given him. "Priests." he mutters with disgust, this time a bit louder.

Naeron is shocked at the surly response of the Priest, but defers to Emma in responding. He'd done enough damage with his natural lack of affinity for the rock-dwellers. He felt he was looking at a trail trampled over by hundreds, trying to find the one true path. He listens and interjects only on behalf of the Sir Bryant as he knows him. He will, of course, answer questions asked directly by the High Priest...

For a moment his train of thought trailed off as he pondered their report on the dwarves and Paros to Bryant. Why had he rebuffed them so? Oh, the others might not have noticed, but he almost felt that Bryant downplayed their suspicions a little too easily. Perhaps that was just a symptom of Paros' long service to the Duke... Damn that worm!!!

Towers leans back in his chair, throwing his head back and rubbing his eyes. Then, he slowly stands and looks over the members of Rinder's Six before him, especially the no-longer-so-young-and-innocent Emmalya of Serralund. She had obviously changed much in the short time she had been in the field, that much Towers could see right away. And her powers had surely grown. But had her incessant need to question and debate every dictum and law, every godly decree or relationship with the other gods of Rinder, had that changed? Only time would tell. Would she join the fold, or would she remain a small but constant thorn in the theological side of the Caste of Anhur?

With a long exhale, Towers replies. "My apologies to you, Emmalya," his voice is low and quiet, a marked difference from just moments before. "With the war to the south and this incident with the dwarves, my patience is taxed as military leaders are constantly depending on myself and my associates for advice and the best laid battle plans."

A bit relieved to know that she isn't the cause of Towers's annoyance, Emma nods slightly, replying, "Your Holiness, I understand, this is indeed a trying time. I do apologize for the hasty entrance, but our news is most important." Emma looks about the High Priest's office, upon his desk and the bookcases.

"The office, yes," Towers says with a smile, noting Emma's glances around the room. "Usually I am upstairs, but during times of war we think it best to move underground to more defensible positions. A bit of an inconvenience, but necessary, I understand.

"Now to the matter at hand, you say this Paros has the trust of Bryant, yes?"

Emma nods.

"I see...and that Bryant has been named successor to the throne?"

Naeron nods.

"Hmm...a most perplexing turn of events. Congratulatory, of course, to the Great House of Raimead, but perplexing given the role you seem to think Paros plays in this game. In this dangerous game." Towers then turns to Hannibal, sitting in a chair in the corner. "He placed voices in your head?"

Hannibal is a bit surprised to be addressed directly, and scrambles to his feet to present the proper respect toward the Church official. "Y-yes, your holiness." He glances quickly to Emma, making sure he addressed Towers correctly. Emma nods in response, smiling kindly.

"Most disturbing, I can imagine," Towers replies, returning his gaze to the others, at which time Hannibal sits, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I do know Paros, though not well. I have seen him, always at the Duke's court. He has never seemed to me to be a particularly social character, withdrawing always within the castle walls when his duties are done.

"However, I know he has the confidence of Sir Bryant, which in part makes this new information disturbing and perplexing. I do not know the details, but if my memory serves, I believe Paros once saved the Duke's life, many years ago when he was a young boy. I do not know the circumstances, but I would think that this act has much to do with the Duke's present day trust in the wizard."

"But what of Paros's involvement with the Red Dragon School?" Canter asks, looking quickly to Hannibal and then back to the High Priest.

"I don't know anything about that," Towers replies apologetically, "nor do I know much else about the man, other than the fact that he is a most mysterious character..." Towers's voice trails off, as if he is thinking for a moment. "...But I believe the news you bring is important enough to warrant more direct action."

Towers then turns to address Emma directly, "Have you ever witnessed the Commune?"

She had heard about it, a powerful spell in which a High Priest could address Anhur directly. The power it must bring would be awesome. "N-no, your holiness, I haven't," she replies.

"Then do follow me," Towers says, a small smile appearing at the corners of his lips. As much as she could be a trouble-maker, she was still a priestess of Anhur, and a student at that. She did deserve to learn, so as to better serve her god. Besides, it might allow her to bring her views more in line with those of the rest of the Caste.

Towers then turns his back to the party, facing the wall behind his desk. His hands run along the wall, parallel to the floor, about waist-level. "Aha," he says quietly when he finds the right spot. Then he pushes against the stone block on which his right hand rests, and suddenly a crack appears in the wall. The sound of stone upon stone reverberates through the room as a secret doorway begins to open into another chamber beyond. "Come, Emmalya," Towers says invitingly.

Canter swallows hard, then steps foward, intending to follow Emma.

But Towers holds up a hand. "I'm afraid only members of the Caste may enter the High Priest's sanctuary, my friend."

With an apologetic look to Canter, Emma turns to follow Towers, and in a moment they are gone.

"[Storm!]" Gellick calls over the battlecries of the dwarven soldiers and the yells of the goblins on the attack, "[ya gonna do the two-sword thing?]"

Storm glares at the stubble-faced dwarf with a look that would stifle any further comments without question. "Aye youngin! Shut yer trap and fend fer yeself! Suren this Strongblade be taken care o' himself!" Storm says this as he crouches low and to the left, under the cover of the larger boulders on his side. He looks around as he takes cover, looks at the other dwarves in the patrol, many of whom are at or under Storm's age. Suddenly a self assuring, knowing smirk came to Storm's face: He was among the hardened veterans in the group. He glances at Brauenok as the leader barks commands at his troops. Locking eyes with the sturdy patrol leader for a second, the two share a silent moment of recognition that they are the two, more or less, with the most experience. How much his short time with Rinder's Six had given him!

Storm is broken from his reverie as another arrow whistles out of the distance and spears into the ground between him and the patrol leader. Storm glances around not seeing a single goblin from his own vantage point, though hears the battle cries loudly enough. "Goblins..." he smirks out loud. 'These be smart ones, too, fer the dogs anyways. Picked a good spot fer an ambush,' he thinks silently.

Then his typical dwarven battle rage clicks in and he grows instantaneously impatient. "Arrr....ye can't chop no goblins from down here, can ye!!" He yells as he leaps into action. Storm takes one step from the nook he's perched in and hurls himself up and across the narrow pathway. He lands in a half roll atop the smaller boulders across the way, unsheathing one of his (non-dwarven crafted <If another dwarf were to notice>) long swords as he quickly looks around for the nearest goblin to thrash.

His eyes quickly survey the scene. He can see down into the crevice where the dwarven patrol is. The lead dwarf was already lying on the trail in a pool of blood, and the others were scrambling to find cover from the arrows raining down from above. On his side of the boulders bordering the trail (the side further down the mountain), he could see four goblins, three armed with bows and firing down onto the patrol, the other growling and approaching him with a short sword. On the other side of the trail, on the higher boulders, Storm could just barely make out six more goblins, some firing bows and others readying clubs and swords, preparing to jump down onto the trail below and pounce.

"Arr! Brauenok!" Storm yells, "There be four of 'em up here an' another six on da other side!" He would normally wait to make sure the patrol leader heard him, but now time was not something he could waste. Not wanting to stand still, Storm charges at the nearest goblin, the one on his row of boulders with the short sword. He reaches the monster quickly and with one smooth movement runs his long sword through it, plunging his weapon deep into its green fleshy abdomen.

"Aaaaarrrr!" Storm screams in victory as he kicks the dead body of the goblin away.

Just then, one of the other three goblins on his side of the boulders (with a bow), turns on him, firing off an arrow in his direction. Hearing the missile whistle though the cool mountain air, Storm jumps back, landing in a backwards roll and allowing the arrow, along with the follow-up shot, to miss way over his head.

Meanwhile, Storm notices out of the corner of his eye the two other bow-wielding goblins before him taking aim at the dwarves below. Each misses with its first shot, but their second shots both find their targets, striking the dwarves but not killing them. Another goblin jumps down from the other row of boulders and attacks a dwarf, but its attack is blocked.

Coming out of his backward roll, Storm grabs a dagger from his right boot. Taking aim, he grips the blade tightly and throws it hard at the goblin attacking him with its bow. The dagger twirls as it flies through the air, and lands in the goblin's thigh with a thud. The goblin lets out a growl, stopping for a moment to yank the bloody dagger from its flesh.

Brauenok, in the meantime, completes climbing up the boulders near Storm. He immediately heads to one of the other bow-wielding goblins, attacking it fiercely with his short sword. With a swift upper-cut move, he swipes at the goblin, catching it under the chin and sending it reeling backwards on the rocks. In the fall, its bow cracks in half, rendering it useless. "Arr!" Brauenok calls, relishing in the success of his hit.

The dwarves below continue to seek cover from their enemies above. One moves to attack the goblin which had jumped down onto the trail (and does so successfully), while another attempts to climb out of the crevice up to the boulders on which Storm and Brauenok are fighting.

Then, throwing its bow to the ground, along with Storm's bloody dagger, the goblin facing Storm whips out its short sword, leaping at Storm. Storm attempts to roll away, but as luck would have it, that is exactly the side the goblin lunges for. Its rusty blade sinks into Storm's shoulder, causing blood to seep to the surface. (5 hp damage)

Meanwhile, the sounds of battle continue to rage all around, as Brauenok and the other dwarf on the boulders manage to evade attacks, but a dwarf below screams in pain as a dwarven club batters its skull.

Reeling from the hit, Storm tightens his grip on his long sword. Then, exhaling strongly through clenched teeth, he presses his attack, swinging his weapon over his head and bearing down upon the monster before him. After trading blocks and parries, Storm sees an opening in his puny foe's meager swordsmanship. Exploiting it, he screams his loudest and whacks at the goblin hard, sending his sword clear through the goblin's neck, and sending its head rolling down the side of the mountain. "Rrrraaaahhhh!" Storm screams as the kicks the rest of the dead body down after its head.

Then, turning to see Brauenok squaring off against an enemy, Storm runs across the boulders, charging at the monster. With his momentum, and the fact that Brauenok kept it busy, Storm easily runs it through. His sword lands firmly in the monster's back, and Storm yanks it upwards with a strong motion, making sure to widen the wound. After a nod of recognition with Brauenok, Storm tosses this dead goblin's body aside, looking for more to fight.

Brauenok quickly turns on another goblin on the boulders, engaging in a short duel with the monster. After a short while, he manages to score a hit, much to the goblin's frustration!

At the same time, other dwarves begin to climb the shorter of the two boulder lines (the one on which Brauenok and Storm are fighting), with the intent of then leaping across the trail to the higher boulders and fighting the goblins there.

Then the goblin which Brauenok attacked strikes back, surprising the patrol leader. Its rusty short sword meets with the patrol leader's upper arm, slicing deep into his skin. (5 hp damage) Brauenok yells in anger and frustration, but is far from faltering.

Still, other goblins are on the offensive, fighting hand-to-hand on the trail below, and firing arrows across the two lines of boulder's at the dwarves who continue to climb up. Most of the arrows miss--goblins aren't generally the best archers!--but one does manage to strike a dwarf in the leg, but he continues climbing.

Brauenok calls to Storm, "Aye, Storm! We be needin' ta get ta da other side! Can ya do it?!"

Emma enters the inner sanctuary a few paces behind Towers. Inside the small chamber, a small fire burns in the center of the room, just in front of a small altar with some holy symbols and bowls of holy water. An ornate carpet is laid across the stone floor, on which Towers kneels, closing his eyes.

Keeping them closed, he speaks to Emma: "Emmalya, come sit here and pray with me. I will attempt to Commune with Anhur, and you will surely be most interested in everything he has to say."

Not saying a word, Emma quickly kneels beside the High Priest, closing her eyes and assuming the same position as the older man beside her. Though she was not casting a spell, she knew that her prayers were important, too.

Soon Emma can hear Towers whispering quietly. His words are fast and mumbled, but for Anhur they are clear enough. In the mist of her inner vision, Emma can begin to see a source of light. Yes, it was becoming clearer now, an orb, a sphere of some kind, glowing in a dark red hue.

"Towers, High Priest of the Caste, Anhur hears your calling across the planes of existence and into the heavens..."

"Glourious and revered Anhur, god of War, god of Justice, reigning above all other gods, we beseech you today for enlightenment. We seek wisdom, we seek knowledge, we seek information. We seek to know just a little of the vast universe that is yours," Towers voice echoes in the mist, though his physical mouth does not move. Emma can see and hear all the High Priest does, that is the extent to which his spell is powerful.

"Very well, ask of me a question and I shall share with you an answer..."

"Emmalya," Towers whispers, this time his mouth actually moving, for the voice echoes not in the mist of their inner visions, "you may ask on my behalf..."

"Typical," Hannibal mutters as the secret door closes behind Emma. "So exclusive."

"True," Canter agrees, nodding to Hannibal, "But Emma will tell us all she learns in there...won't she?"

"Let us hope so," Naeron says, pacing around the office and looking at the books on the shelves. 'Battle Tactics of Gauldin Warriors', 'Scrolls of War: Japeth, Carter, and Lilian', and 'Diplomacy and Diplomatic Maneuvers.'

"Interesting," Naeron mumbles to himself.

"What?" Crayne replies, suddenly curious as to what the half-elf had found on the High Priest's bookshelf.

"I was just noticing..." Naeron begins, "Emma always talks about Anhur as a god of justice. But I see very few books of law or justice on this man's shelf. Plenty of books on war, tactics, weapons, armor, and diplomacy. But only perhaps two or three on actual law."

"The law books could be in some library," Hannibal offers, not really paying attention.

"True," Naeron concedes, "but doesn't it seem a little strange that the High Priest has so few books pertaining to law when his diety is, according to Emma, primarily a god of justice?"

Just then, there is a knock at the door. It swings open slowly with a loud creak, and Fallon sticks his head in. His eyes dart quickly about the chamber. Not finding Towers within, he steps more confidently through the door.

"Are you all Rinder's Six?" the timid student inquires.

Crayne looks around, then steps forward to address Fallon. "We are some of Rinder's Six. What is it?"

"Th-there's some people outside...th-they want to s-s-speak to you," Fallon reports nervously.

"Calm down, lad, surely you invited them inside," Crayne says, trying to soothe the frightened boy.

"N-n-no, sir," Fallon replies, "They refused. They await you on the steps outside."

Crayne exhales in mild frustration, though in reality it was just as well. They weren't doing anything of great importance sitting around and waiting for Emma and Towers to return, anyway. And who knows how long it takes to Commune with Anhur?

"Very well," the mage finally says, "show us out, then."

Through the labyrinthine tunnels and up the stone stairs, Crayne, Canter, Hannibal, and Naeron follow Fallon. Soon they emerge on the floor of the main sanctuary, with its cavernous and impressive ceiling and rows of wooden pews. Their footsteps echoing off distant stone and marble walls, they make their way to the front entrance.

Then, stepping outside, they notice that the sky is considerably darker, as if thunderclouds were approaching, just moments away. There at the bottom of the tall marble staircase stand four figures, each cloaked in brown. Their hoods hang low, so that as Crayne, Canter, Hannibal, and Naeron descend the steps, they cannot see the stragners' faces until they are at the bottom.

Standing on the last step before the street level, Crayne stops. The four strangers stand there, one in front, one over each shoulder, and the last a few paces directly behind. Their cloaks cover all of their bodies, except for their feet, and with their hands all uniformally clasped in front of them, not even their fingers can be observed.

"Well, who are you, and what have you to say to us?" Crayne demands, his chin high.

The leading stranger raises his head, and then slowly pulls back the hood of his cloak. The first thing Naeron notices is the man's fingers: long, dark, delicate digits, not unlike his own. As these fingers gently pull back the hood of the cloak, Naeron can feel his stomach tighten. The man's face appears, with its dark black skin and white, shoulder-length hair. His features are as finely and delicately chiseled as his hands, and before long Naeron knows what he is seeing:

"This is no ordinary man," Naeron whispers to his friends.

"Of course, I can see that," Crayne whispers in reply, almost annoyed. "He is an elf, I know what I see."

"But he is no ordinary elf," Naeron says, his voice growing darker with each word, much like the sky above. He can barely pronouce the words he means to speak. Finally he gathers he will enough to articulate but one word, and that one word is enough: "Drow."

The lead drow keeps his eyes on Crayne and takes a breath, preparing to respond to Crayne's question. Still, Naeron can see the eyes of the other drow behind the leader, boring into him.

"Mage Crayne of Mistledale," the lead drow says, his voice like a sad dark song, "You and your friends must give up this quest, or face the consequences unkind..."

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