WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE #14 Veskavar's Palace
"Ghod damn it" shouted Tallow, "I'm telling you that Pedwar is going to screw us. We need to nail him now, and explain it to Veskavar later!"

Templar looked at him serenely. Vodan clerics were use to the flaring emotions brought on by battle, and had long practice at bringing people around to see common sense in the most heated situations. This was not exactly a battle situation, but it was not far from it "Tallow, no one is arguing with you. All we are saying is that a little additional information will go a long way in helping us to come to the right conclusions. Even if the right conclusion is to axe Pedwar, Hotherial may have an answer on how to do it... subtly."

The group was standing in the narrow hallway just off of Veskavar's chamber. It joined together all of the sleeping quarters Veskavar's dragonnewts had assigned them too. Each cubicle was too small to hold more that a couple of lumpy mattresses and a wash basin, and they had to cluster together in the hall in order to fit everyone within earshot.

Guido nodded. "Chatting with Hoth is our best move at the moment, Tallow. Pedwar will wait Besides, they have him in a separate section of the palace. We have no idea how hard it would be to get to him."
Tallow finally, if reluctantly, agreed. Letting Guido slip out into the night in order to contract Hotherial with the communications ring far enough from the palace that Veskavar would not detect it really did make the most sense. And there was always later that night for attending to Pedwar.

A few minutes later, Guido was cracking the door to Veskavar's chamber. There was one other set of doors out of the corridor, but the only way the players knew lead outside was past Veskavar. Guido peered through the crack. His vision was blocked less than a foot away by a dragonnewt. He patiently waited, and the guard moved enough for him to catch a glimpse of other guards by the other doors off the large central chamber. Veskavar was curled up in the middle of the room, snoring loudly enough that Guido could feel it through the floor. It was clear that he would not be able to slip out that way.

An sudden idea struck him. He moved into one of the bedrooms, the one closest to Veskavar's chamber, and tapped quietly on the wall. It was solid, but not so solid he couldn't feel a vibration. And if his memory was right, the back wall he was standing at was right over the spiral staircase up to Veskavar's chambers. A passwall spell ought to get him through it...

And indeed it did. Guido hopped the seven feet to the staircase, his dexterity allowing him to land without falling, and with very little sound. He slipped down the staircase into the large antechamber that lead into the palace from the outside. A few steps... and he froze. There were more dragonnewts on guard just outside the door. Guido cursed. He had the invisibility helm Hotherial had given them, but didn't want to use a charge unless absolutely essential. It only had four charges.

Another idea struck him. A telekinesis spell might help to create a diversion... Guido concentrated, cast the spell. A good size rock, about five or so pounds, lay in the glow of the guards torches about fifty or sixty feet from the door. It would have to do. He reached out with the spell, waited until the guards appeared to be looking in other directions, lifted the rock slowly and then let it fall. It made a loud clatter. The dragonnewts were not known as the brainy type; they moved off to investigate together. This would be cake.

As the dragonnewts left the white marble stairs leading from the palace to the streets of Smagean, Guido moved out, feet in soft leather boots expertly avoiding loose rubble and obstacles in order to maintain silence. It was a little too cocky of a move; as he descended the stairs, one of the guards glanced back, seeing him. Guido cursed again as he triggered the helm and ran off. If the guards reported this and the dragonnewts investigated the parties sleeping quarters, they would find the Hobbit's blankets covering a set of backpacks rather than Guido's body. Oh well, there was no help for it. He moved on.

Hotherial came on line after seven tries with the ring. Why did they have to make the darned things so damn hard to use? Guido explained the situation to him. Hotherial paused thoughtfully, then said "Guido, I think killing Pedwar, or even trying to expose him to Veskavar as someone who is trying to manipulate him, is a mistake. If our opponents are as well versed at renala as us, it is likely that Pedwar does not know that the information he is giving Veskavar was designed to create a confrontation between Veskavar and Kekamar. Where as you, if Veskavar gets suspicious or interrogates you on general principle, will not have a clean bill of health. It seems to me that you have succeeded in luring Veskavar away from the Sheravar gate, which is after all the objective. Pedwar will have to way for another opportunity. There is also the fact that Pedwar seems to be linked with the Myshavar tribe somehow. This is something that needs investigating, since the Myshavar are notoriously close minded about allowing outsiders into their inner circles. Killing Pedwar would make exploration of this irregularity somewhat difficult."

Guido agreed with the common sense of that "What do you know about Pedwar, Hotherial? It was you that set up the kidnapping of lant Uial by leading Tallow to the Salsenhain. You must have known something about Pedwar if you knew he was sleeping with Tallow's wife!"

"Unfortunately, I don't know much more than that. We do something of a "breadth first" search for criteria that we can use to play renala" said Hotherial. "This was the first thing that came up. All I can tell you is that he is a gold ring holder in Bradford hold. I didn't bother to track him after the lant Uial thing".

Guido was disappointed. There were quite a few odd things about Pedwar, and he had hopped that Hotherial could enlighten him to some extent. He bid his farewell to Hotherial, then headed back. He made fast time in the light of a full moon, the howl of wolves outside the city reminding him of the old tales of werewolves. Six guards were posted on the door to the palace, and Guido needed to burn another charge on the helm in order to slip by them. Another passwall, and he was back in the sleeping area.

"For ghod's sake, look innocent" hissed Jake, "the guards harassed us after your exit about casting magic on the premises..."

As he was speaking, the door flew open, and a group of dragonnewts charged in. The leader spoke broken but understandable common. The players protested their innocence, but the dragonnewt had them lined up against a wall while their belongings were searched. The blanket with the packs underneath was discovered, and the dragonnewt turned to them grimly. "We conduct inventory of Veskavar's treasure. Any missing, you stew".

Tallow shrugged. "Look, we're sorry, but Pedwar said it was okay to cast a few healing spells."

"So who said Pedwar in charge" shot back the annoyed dragonnewt.

"Why, he did" replied Tallow blandly. The dragonnewts eyes bulged in rage.

"You stay" he cried. "I don't wake Veskavar, since he probably eat me for annoyance, as long as no missing. Missing stuff, I don't wake Veskavar either, I just make yummy stew".

The inventory took several hours, and dawn was breaking over the palace while the players waited under guard. When the inspection came up with a clean bill of health, they breathed a tired sigh of relief. It had been a long night.

"Can we sleep now?" asked Ziwa, a little crossly. Not getting much sleep in Smagean seemed to be something of a recurring theme to her.

"Sleep? Veskavar getting ready to leave!" cried the dragonnewt. "You have half hour to get yourselves ready."

On the road with Veskavar
The group wearilly entered Veskavar's chambers. Pedwar strolled up, looking refreshed and every inch a high Kethemer lord. He took Tallow over to the side. "Look" he said earnestly, "I'm really sorry about Mia. And about the way I acted yesterday. I'd really like to let bygones be bygones". Tallow gave him a smile that he hoped was not completely insincere.

"Sure, Pedwar" he replied, not believing it for a second. Pedwar was after something.

The rest of the party was bidding Legum and Rocky a safe trip. Since Veskavar could not carry all of them, it had been decided the night before that they would travel down river and see how the undead were doing digging up Chen Kunda artifacts.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of them were strapped to Veskavar, waiting for take off. Pedwar mounted, walked by them on Veskavar's back. "Sorry, I normally fly first class" he said as he took position on Veskavar's neck, with his legs straddling the dragon where it was thinnest.

Veskavar was airborne in one huge lunge, the ground dwindling rapidly beneath them. Veskavar moved at the same blinding pace he had the one other time they had ridden him, covering fifty miles by the end of the day. The landscape had become hilly and lightly forested when they grew close to their destination. Myshavar gate stood on top of a low hill, a cluster of campfires and tents standing to the south of it They landed on the southern side of the encampment to everyone's disappointment. The black pillars of the gate were too far away to be studied carefully.

On the ground, a group of Tawhiemers, clearly Myshavar, met them. Two in particular seemed to know Pedwar very well, a Nye Nighton and a Nye Tastan. The first was merely pleased to see Pedwar, and acted with the kind of half whipped subservience that marked him as a hanger-on. The second was much less polite. Several people in party spoke barbarian, and although the Myshavar accent was thick, it was mostly understandable. Nye Tastan was complaining about bring strangers to the gate when there were so close to the ceremony. Pedwar silenced him with an icy glare, explaining that the group would be leaving with the dawn. It was also obvious that he wanted the Myshavar to keep quiet.

Pedwar offered the party lodging in the tents of the Myshavar, but was rather bluntly refused. Pedwar's new ingratiating attitude did not wipe the sickening thud of Anthrax's body hitting pavement from anyone's memory.
"Suit yourself1 Pedwar shrugged, then headed for the tents himself after ordering some of the Myshavar to bring a few cattle as a snack for Veskavar. An hour later he was back, however. "Ziwa", he asked with a smile, "would you care to join me for dinner?" Ziwa politely declined. Pedwar was definitely looking for something. Guide saw it as an opportunity, however.

"Pedwar, I have some skill with this guitar" he said boldly. "I would be more than happy to play for you at the cost of simple hot meal. These road rations really drag after a while."
Pedwar looked at him and smiled rather coldly. "Agreed" he said simply.

Over the meal there was much more talk than music, however. Guido found the conversation continually named back to the members of his group, and despite his best attempts, he new Pedwar was picking up things that Guido didn't realize were significant until after he said them. And Pedwar was quite recalcitrant about speaking of his own history, deftly turning the conversation to something more neutral with vague answers that really said nothing.

Tve heard the south harbor at the Evael trading port is rather tricky to navigate" said Pedwar, changing the subject again.

"South harbor? There is no south harbor!" said Guido automatically, then cursed himself for about the hundredth time that night.

"So you've been there, Guido? Strange, for a simple bard, since I though the elves had their own entertainment and didn't import talent. Was it just you, or the entire group?"
"None of us have ever been there. I just heard a description from a sailor, that's all".

Pedwar smiled. " Ahhh, the capability of a bard to absorb stories from the common people" he said. "Well, if you will excuse me for a moment, I am going to... refresh myself." Pedwar stood, stretched, and walked out of the tent. It was a moment Guido had been waiting for. On a small stool near the head of Pedwar's sleeping mattress was a letter with a seal mat Guido had seen before. It was the seal of Lord Holder Montor from Bythe, a man Guido had many reasons to dislike and distrust. Guido picked up the letter and scanned it rapidly. It read:
Pedwar,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I have interesting news of the positive and negative variety. The good news is that Hestor Matlock is finally dead. Mornanon is now Admiral of the Bythe fleet. His first order of business, of course, was to inspect Bravin's new light warship design. Bravin finished repairing the fire damage last month, and attempts to restage the "accident" have been prevented by his security. Mornanon's report was negative, of course, and I would say that the issue is now a dead one. Bravin may have one hot ship, but without sufficient capital from Naval contracts, his will be the only one.

The negative news is that someone in Nol has leaked information about my attempts to capture Belgi's daughter to the Hectlac cult. Fortunately, Vanderhoven turned it over to a junior member of the KNI to report up the chain, and the next in his chain of command was one of our people. The junior KNI member has been silenced, and there is no indication that anyone suspects anything other than an accident. The problem is, of course, the originator of the information is still at large.

As you know, we only have a few high level contacts in the Hectlac organization, and none of these are well placed to ferret out information from the Bythe temple. I have some small contacts there, who have determined that the report originated from one of the telepathic communication rings the Hectlacs turn over to their high level operatives. Further, it appears that the specific ring by which the report was received is currently held by one Marson Braize. News on the waterfront is that Mar son was on a ship for Nol, the Golden Harvest, and that there was some trouble on docking, with a man killed and a small fire started on board. One of the people responsible match's Marson's description. Marson was aided by another individual who was in the company of the man who was killed. The passengers and crew that we have been able to question are curiously vague about these two, and seem to have a remarkably hard time remember any details about them.

It is not clear how all this relates to the capture of Catherine Belgi, but there are too many oddnesses about the entire situation for me to feel comfortable with it. I would suggest that you try to track down Marson and his associate from your end.

We could, of course, raid the Hectlac temple and destroy the communications capabilities, but this would attract a lot of attention and be at best a temporary fix to the problem.

Montor

Guido's eyes were nearly bulging from his sockets. This hinted at a conspiracy far greater than he could have imagined. And somehow, Pedwar and Montor were part of it. Guido quickly placed the letter back where he found it, and when Pedwar returned, politely excused himself for the evening.

When he returned to the group, he told them about the letter. "We've got to get our hands on that" said Jake excitedly. "That's all the proof we need to get Montor, and Pedwar, axed".
"But if we try to swipe the thing in the middle of enemy territory, we're the ones who are going to end up headless" interjected Galrog.

Tallow was smiling. It was not a pleasant smile. "I have an idea" he said.

The next day dawned clear and cloudless. "Great flying weather, hey Pedwar" joked Tallow. Pedwar was there to see them off. He looked disturbed for a moment, and Tallow almost kicked himself. Overplaying it could still get them killed. Still, there was no way that Pedwar could know that the incriminating letter was tucked in his knapsack. The forgery of the letter and seal that had been left in Pedwar's tent with the aid of another charge from the helm was not a great one; Tallow was very good at forging, but the materials he had to work with were limited. It was, however, good enough that Pedwar would not recognize it as a forgery until he opened it and found nothing on the inside except a note from Tallow reading "Let's let bygones be bygones, eh buddy?".

The only negative was that Tallow's attempts to investigate the gate itself had been thwarted last night. Myshavar guards had stopped him from getting close to the gate, and he had been escorted to Pedwar's tent, where a sleepy and annoyed Pedwar had told him in no uncertain terms that the area was off limits to them.

Veskavar launch himself into the sky with the beat of giant wings, and Myshavar gate quickly disappeared from sight behind them. They left the foothills for more plains, the grasslands containing very little to make one spot stand out from another. Occasion groups of people or herds of animals were the only things to break the monotony of the landscape.

Eight hours later, they reached Tuga Gate. Unlike Myshavar gate, Tuga gate stood in the midst of a large, grassy field, but the six ominous black columns were the same. There was a tent town outside the gate like before, but this appeared to be a more permanent establishment, if more slipshod and slovenly in its upkeep.

Veskavar once again landed some distance from the gate. A number of the Tuga tribe came out cautiously to see the new arrival, then began to approach more boldly when it became apparent that Veskavar, for all his size, appeared to be uninterested in harming anyone. Veskavar waited until the tribesmen were comfortable close to him before he politely requested they bring him some cattle for dinner. The tribesmen laughed. "Cattle are very precious to us, dragon. We do not eat them as a matter of course."

"Most unfortunate" replied Veskavar evenly, "for I am hungry, and I therefore will have to eat some of you instead." Cattle were brought in very short order, and Veskavar settle down to dinner.

Templar was the first to notice something was wrong. He was sensitive to a group's atmosphere like most Vodan clerics, ready to jolly battle weary veterans or shore up the fears of those new to battle. But here, there was no fear, no exhaustion, but rather a quiet desperation, a dark melancholy. The children did not play. The women did not sing. The men appeared listless, stirring only when they went off in sudden, unexplained rages. Even Veskavar's blackmail appeared to bring only numb acceptance normally associated with natural disasters on a large scale.

Jake was aware of something else unusual. While the rest of the party settled in, he used the remaining daylight to wander over to the gate. Unlike the Myshavar, the Tuga did not appear concerned with strangers investigating the gate. Jake's attention was on a huge burned swath through the grass that began at the gate and disappeared a distance from it. The black stain was ugly, like an open wound, but it also drew attention to the grass itself. The grass was a sickly green, and seemed hard and brittle to the touch. This seemed to be the case all around. Jake thought back, and suddenly realized that the grass around Myshavar gate had been the same. It had tickled at the back of his thoughts, never surfacing until now.

Jake moved over to the burnt swath. Massive footprints could be traced in sections of the ash, one a set of Chen Kunda tracks leading in, large enough to be an adult, and then something else even larger leading out. Whatever had come out of the gate was not a Chen Kunda. Large, humanoid footprints, twice or three times the size of even Hammerhand's large feet, ending in small marks that could only be claws. Jake followed the strange footprints. .They were changing as they left the gate, growing longer, the claws more pronounced, and a backwards facing claw becoming apparent. He shook his head. The footprints ended where the burnt out section ended. What ever it had been apparently had gone airborne at this point.

Jake cast his tracking spell. There were small, yellow shoots starting to spring up through the black ash, implying that it had been three or four days since this had happened, but it was worth a try even if the spell would only detect trails a day old.

He sensed something... something rank, vile, disgusting. It felt like nothing he had experience with, and although this spell was new to him, he knew intuitively that it was not a normal reading. Something powerful, something evil, had passed this way, purpose strong in its dark heart. Jake suddenly felt like he needed a bath badly.

He examined the black, obsidian like pillars of Tuga gate. They had the same Chen Kunda marks on them that Sheravar gate had exhibited. Nothing more was evident from his examination, however, and he headed back to Veskavar.

Veskavar's eyes were half covered with drooping eyelids when he arrived. "Veskavar" he asked, "what is wrong with this place? The people, the plants, they all seem... wrong somehow."
Veskavar looked at him sleepily. "It is the gate" he said. "It is not a good idea to stay so close to a gate for a long period of time. Even locked, they extrude a field that can twist those exposed for too long. That is why I never settled near one."

Galrog, in the meantime, was accepting an invitation to stay in the tented area of the Tuga for the evening. Everyone else had uneasily if politely declined. There was a sense of sickness and tension in the air that made everyone's hair stand on end. Galrog first stripped himself of valuables, just to be on the safe side. It was a wise move; the dinner or the drink he was served that night left him unconscious for a long period of time, and gave him a aching head in the morning. For everyone else, the night passed without incident

The next morning Veskavar questioned several of the Tuga about the swath. They claimed that it had been a simple brush fire. Veskavar seemed almost uninterested in the answers. A short time later, he told everyone to mount. "We are going to scout to the west" he said. They were airborne again a few minutes later.

The Kubera
Rocky threw another small log on the fire. They had made incredible speed down the river, the elvish magic of the longboat's propulsion adding to the speed of the water sufficiently to make it seem like they were flying. It had only taken them three days to return to the cache of the guardians, a trip that had taken two weeks when they had been headed in the other direction.

Legum was already settled in for the night. They were splitting watches, hard to do when there were only the two of them, but necessary because of their proximity to the swamp and to the Kirander. Rocky was not complaining, however. It was a good opportunity to think about the information they had gleaned from the guardians. It might be all they could squeeze out of the situation, since the guardians had unfortunately not found anything of any use during their search of the area around the bridge.

The guardians had not been at the cache when they first arrived, but a short wait had brought the first carrying the rusted remains of what might have been at one time a spoon of some sort. The other three arrived shortly thereafter with equally worthless cast offs, interesting perhaps for a historian or archaeologist, but not to them. The four had finally hovered with their eerie, motionless cloaks looking empty of everything but a pair of glowing eyes.

A long questioning period followed, frustrating in its slowness. The Guardians were as difficult to talk to as they had been on the first encounter. Still, bit by bit, the story was wormed out of them. They had been called by the elves, although "called" might not be the right term. One said "divided", the other said "trapped", a third said "formed". It was not clear exactly what the elves had done to get these... things here. But, back when they were first called, they had apparently been much more powerful than they were now. Legum was willing to write that off... the guardians had certainly acted self important before with no obvious indication of any real power... but Rocky was not so sure. He was troubled at times by the guardians, troubled without knowing why. It was the not knowing that bothered him. He was often beset by odd feelings nowadays, odd feelings that he felt intuitively were part of the amulet he wore.

The guardians had talked of guarding the bridge, and of endless days of traffic in and out of the Evael across the bridge, including humans. It was clear that the Evael had been much more open back then. A few months before the attack by the Chen Kunda, and the subsequent destruction of the bridge, traffic had suddenly increased, with humans headed out of the Evael and elves heading in. Elvish guards had turned back many humans that were attempting to enter the Evael, and there were some violent confrontations, but the guardians had not been involved. They waited for the Chen Kunda only.

One interesting bit of information was that one of the groups of humans heading out of the Evael was a group of hundreds, each accompanied by a large cat that sounded suspiciously like Tresentarin, the great cats that accompanied the Salsenahain. Something clicked in Rocky's brain, and it suddenly occurred to him that each Salsenahain they had met was called by a name that sounded elvish. Was there some link between the two? Probably.

In the final days of the bridge, there had been increasing frantic attempts by larger and larger groups of humans, some clearly battle damaged, to cross the Kubera. These were repulsed by the elves again and again, until one bloody day when the humans rioted. Elvish magic caused less damage than hysterical humans trampling each other, pushing each other off of the bridge, and in some cases outright attacking each other. The elves, however, had been withdrawing from the bridge and the unexpected riot overcame the light defenses left in place. The elvish leader had called on the Guardians in desperation.

"What happened then?" asked Rocky.

"We stopped them" said the first Guardian coldly.

"Stopped them? Stopped how many? And what did you do to stop them?

"We stopped them all. Tens of tens of tens. We burned them all" replied the second Guardian without inflection.

"You killed thousands of people?" asked Rocky, horrified.

The third Guardian motioned in a way that suggested a shrug. "They were nothing. A rabble, no real defenses. It was an unnoteworthy encounter".

Afterwards, Legum had dismissed it "You can't get a straight story out of them, Rocky. Anyway, it's all history now".

The Guardians had finished the story with the Chen Kunda attack on the bridge, and their subsequent ground-zero blast that had taken out the Chen Kunda attackers, the bridge, and themselves. Again, the terminology was odd. The Chen Kunda had been destroyed because they were "simple", while the Guardians had been "split", or "moved", or "shadowed", depending on the speaker, because they were "complex".
"The Chen Kunda were simple?" asked Legum. "Then why were they so difficult to stop?"

"They were powerful" replied the first Guardian. "Powerful, and worthy opponents" cried the second. "Most worthy opponents, to provide for us an interesting challenge" cried the third, and so on. Legum gave up after a while, and the Guardians returned to their task.

Rocky through another log on the fire, then woke Legum. It was his turn to stand watch. He was still thinking about the conversation when he fell asleep.

He was sitting at a table in a unadorned room playing cards with four other people. There were no doors, but through uncurtained windows he saw stars whizzing by fast enough to make them nothing but streaks. It was dizzying, and he turned his attention back to his cards. Four aces and a king stared back at him.

"You in or out?" asked one of the other players. Rocky looked down. He had no chips left

"I don't have any more money" he said sadly.

"No problem" replied the stranger, "your credit is good with us".

"In then, I guess" replied Rocky, unsurely.

"I see your soul" said the stranger, laying down his cards. Five ace of spades looked up at Rocky. The stranger grinned savagely. "And what do you have, my friend?"

One of the other figures spoke. "Don't tease the man, Ganwain. He isn't ready for these games yet. He still has alot of growing to do."

"Biggest room in the house" said the third man, "is room for growth." He smiled too, but like the other, with little mirth.

"I don't understand" said Rocky, bewildered.

"You will, friend, you will" replied the fourth and final stranger.

"Look at your cards" said the first. Rocky looked down. His cards were... changing. Things moved, symbols appearing and disappearing faster than he could consciously remember them. And yet... he felt something changing, something inside him. "Go then, friend, and grow" said the man, and the scene faded quietly to black.

On the road with Veskavar
After leaving Tuga Gate, three days of searching brought them to the site of the battle between the Ibisi and Salsenahain and the Chen Kunda army that had been marching on Tuga gate several weeks before. Veskavar looked over the remains impassively, then once again took to the sky, concentrating his search to the west south west. Another three days passed before they once again came upon a battlefield. This time, it was the remains of humans and large cats, and a short distance off, more Chen Kunda bodies. Small pools of black liquid puddle where gathered here and there on the ground, giving off a ugly yellow mist that swirled up in the breeze and dissipated into the atmosphere.

Veskavar seemed more wary this time, perhaps because the battle appeared to have been fought at most a day or two ago. He began to search in a spiral pattern from the battle area, swinging in wider and wider circles. They were passing over a lake to the south west of the battlefield when it happened.

Ziwa was the first to spot it, mostly due to a sharp jolt from Facinalethvree. A dark rock that stuck out of the lake suddenly shook, lunged free of the water. It was a large, black dragon, at least the same size as Veskavar, maybe larger.

Veskavar and the new dragon circled each other, speaking a language that some recognized as Chen Kunda. Guido cast a read/speak languages in time to hear the end of the conversation. The black dragon was asking for information on the gate key, and Veskavar was echoing that question back.

Without warning, the black dragon reared back and breathed, a solid stream of black acid spewing from its mouth. Veskavar pulled back hard, but not nearly hard enough. The stream caught him on the underside, and he screamed in pain. The smell of searing meat made the players gag, and then Veskavar was death spiraling into the marsh on the west side of the lake. He beat his wings, slowing, and a shadow passed overhead. The players looked up at the blood curdling sight of the black dragon bearing down, undoubtedly getting ready to splatter them with acid. Veskavar's body would not provide shelter this time. Death was knocking at their door.

With a rushing explosion of air, the players were suddenly falling. Veskavar had teleported out. Tumbling from the sky, they dropped about thirty or forty feet. Only the soft, wet bog help break their fall, and fortunately most of them were lucky enough to hit spots with plenty of give. Still, most of the party took a good deal of damage in the fall. Some, landing in water, had to shed armor and other heavy items or sink. A few wild minutes of looking around revealed that the black dragon had vanished as quickly as Veskavar.

The Kubera
Legum was irritated with Rocky. Ever since they had talked with the Guardians, Rocky had been acting spooked. Rocky had asked one of the Guardians its name, and when it replied "Ganwain", had turned white as a sheet Legum couldn't understand why the transparent boasting of the Guardians concerned him so much.

They were moving along the bank of the Kubera on the Tawhiem side, looking for the spot at which they had met Plellelan, Brogart and the Kirander during their trip up river a few weeks ago. After gathering what information they could from the Guardians, both had opted not to remain on the outskirts of the swamp with its noxious insects and occasional beasts. Although the Kirander were hostile to Kethemers, Legum felt confident that they would be remembered as friends of the elves, which appeared to count for quite a bit with the Kirander.

They were close to their goal when Legum suddenly hit a slick bit of mud and fell, almost sliding into the water. He hauled himself back up in disgust, wiping the mud off as best he could. Where had such a flat mud slick come from anyway? He looked around curiously. There was a ten foot section where the vegetation was simply not growing. The mud was smooth and flat... almost, thought Legum, like someone had brushed it with a branch in order to wipe any hint of footprints away. But why? Legum moved down closer to the water's edge. Another oddity. The reeds and leaves of long grasses sticking out of the water along the bank were absent in a small area, making it look like a small, maybe ten by six foot, pool of water in the grass. He reached out cautiously, meaning to stick his hand in the water, and cursed as he skinned his knuckles on an invisible object. A short period of feeling around revealed a long, flat boat that was invisible to normal sight How to operate it, or even how it was moored, could not be determined, however.

He and Rocky fanned out, and without too much trouble discovered a path a few hundred feet from the invisible boat. "This has to be the Kirander" said Legum, straightening from examining the grass.
"You thing the elves let the Kirander wander over to the Evael side in an invisible elvish boat whenever they want?" asked Rocky, a little skeptical.

Legum shrugged his shoulders. They decided to follow the path, and spent several hours getting deeper into Tawhiem. It was not long before they spotted the lean bodies of some Kirander hunters, who saw them at the same time. The hunters loped toward them in a purposeful but efficient stride. Their expressions were grim, and all had spears at ready, but they allowed Legum to speak. He explained that they were friends of the elves in the barbarian tongue. He did not recognize any of these people from the last group of Kirander they had met. It could be a very bad sign. One of the hunters, wearing an ornate braffin tooth neckless and with odd markings painted on his face and hands pulled a pair of bags on strings from a pouch. This must be one of the Kirander witches.

He approached and went to place a bag over each of their heads. Legum tried to refuse and could sense the attitude of the tribesmen turning ugly. Finally, with some apprehension, he accepted. As the bag settled around his neck, he felt a curious numbness settle over him. The Kirander witch ordered the two of them to follow him, and Legum, devoid of any will of his own, followed, Rocky just behind.
Wandering in the swamp

The party slowly and painfully regrouped, moving cautiously through the bog. The sudden disappearance of Veskavar, the entire encounter with the black dragon, had left everyone shaken. It had been a very close call.

The water was fairly clear but chilly and in some places deeper than a person could stand in. Those who still wore armor had to be very careful. "Swamps seem to be the place to be lately" said Ziwa in distaste.
"At least this is a clean swamp, unlike the mouth of the Kubera" replied Galrog. "And I don't see any braffins, thank the ghods."

"Too cold, and too seasonal, for braffins or other swamp dwellers" said Tallow. "This is all mountain runnoff. During the middle of summer, this place is probably dry except for a few trickling streams."

It was a warm day, but people were still shivering as they waited for clothing and boots to dry. They discussed what to do next while attempting to wring out what water they could of their supplies [DM note: check scrolls, 50% chance they were destroyed]. "That battlefield looks pretty new" commented Tallow thoughtfully. "There could be a number of useful items, maybe even some magic, that was left behind. It depends on how much of a route the battle ended in". It seemed like a reasonable conclusion, and a decision was rapidly reached to make their way around the lake to the south, through the foothills, and approach the battlefield from the northeast in order to minimize the amount of time they were in the open.

Travel was slow at first, but began to speed up as they left the center of the bog. Tall grasses and brush made it difficult to see what lay ahead. A sudden rustling of bushes caused everyone a momentary scare, until an old man stepped out from behind a thick knot of vegetation.

"Hello, strangers", he said in the barbarian language, "I am Grella Elanan". His story was simple. He was one of the Salsenahain that had been harassing the retreating Chen Kunda army from the rear with the great cats. Both they and the Chen Kunda had moved slowly, a dance of small skirmishes and ambushes keeping them from making any real speed. As they neared the lake, the Chen Kunda regrouped and began to pick up speed. The Salsenahain did the same, and were closing when a huge black dragon had appeared from behind them, an adult Chen Kunda on its back. The suddenness and unexpectedness of the attack left them disorganized, with little capability to counter the new threat. The acid breath had devastated the small army, and the few survivors had scattered, many perishing as the black dragon employed a search and destroy procedure.
Grella had made it to some of the brush near the lake; seeing the fate of those on the open plains, he had decided to circle the lake and see if he could find better cover in the bog. While worming his way from clump to clump, he had seen the black dragon approach the now stationary Chen Kunda army. A short while later, he was astounded when the black dragon reared up and let loose with another torrent of thick acid... directly into the Chen Kunda ranks. A short battle ensued, but the Chen Kunda, like the Salsenahain before them, were too disorganized from the unexpected attack, and they too broke and ran from the dark fury behind them.
Grella had seen the dark form of the dragon several times over the last two days circling the area.

The group invited him to join them, an offer he gladly accepted. "There are still the remains of the Chen Kunda army cowering in the area as well. It is not safe to travel alone" he said.

They finally broke free of the marsh the end of that day. The night offered no surprises, and they made good time through the foothills the next day. Near the end of the day, however, they had a surprise encounter with a two adolescent and two child Chen Kunda. Jake let loose with a magic missile spell at close range, and luck was with him; the Chen Kunda raised its head to bellow at just the right time, and the nine missiles hit the soft under side and throat area. A second spell was equally effective as the Chen Kunda thrashed, and it collapsed to the ground, dead. In the meantime, Templar got in a lucky blow that crushed the skull of the other Chen Kunda. The two children were disposed of with a fear spell, and the battle was over. Everyone knew luck had been with them, and that they had been very fortunate not to have several people killed in the attack. Some of their group were close to collapsing from wounds as it was. They checked the bodies, and to their delight found a purse heavy with coin. All told, they collected 90 gold pieces, the largest amount they had ever escaped from an encounter with. "Perhaps our luck is changing" remarked Tallow.

The following day showed this to be prophetic. Guido was sent to sneak from the foothills to the site of the destroyed Salsenahain army in order to minimize the chance of the entire party being spotted. Although the black dragon had not been seen since the encounter with Veskavar, it was better to be safe. Small pools of acid still lay here and there, sizzling slightly. The horribly burned, half melted bodies of the Salsenahain littered the area. Nearby were the bodies of scavengers... hyenas, vultures, and the like... that had foolishly attempted to feast on the tainted meat. There was nothing of value here. The acid had eaten everything to the point were it was almost impossible to identify any specific object. As Guido turned away, however, he noticed a small spiral of smoke. It looked like real smoke, not the noxious fumes from the acid puddles. Puzzled, he walked over. A dismembered arm stretched out, fingers extended. A few inches away, a small crystal ball sat in the grass. The sun's rays where focused through the ball, causing the dry grass to smoke in the heat. Guido grabbedsthe ball, slipped it into a pocket, and left the area.

A piece of the old ring road had been spotted to the south when they entered the area on Veskavar's broad back. The party made for it now, finding it easilly. Two days later, they arrived on the outskirts of Nol. It was time for a much needed break. Most of the party was still seriously hurt from the fall and from the Chen Kunda encounter. They needed the chance to heal up, physically and mentally.

Among the Kirander
Rocky was ready to scream with frustration. It was bad enough to have to endure captivity, but having to do it while pretending to be an emotionless zombie was hideous. Legum was clearly under the influence of the Kirander witch's little magic bag. Why he had not succumbed was not obvious, although he suspected it had something to do with the amulet he wore.

They had been in the Kirander camp for a week, under light guard since they were thought to be under control. Rocky had attempted to pull the bag off of Legum when nobody was looking, but Legum had fought him hard enough that they had attracted the attention of a guard. Rocky had not dared to try again. He cursed himself. If he had taken the opportunity to attack the witch doctor when they were being lead here, they might have been able to break free. But he had wanted to see what would happen, and the chance had slipped by.

Not that the Kirander treated them unpleasantly. They had not been stripped of possessions, beaten, or otherwise mistreated.

A Kirander appeared and spoke with their guard too softly to be heard. They were taken to a large tent in the center of the camp. Something was up.

Inside, an old Kirander with a neckless sporting hundreds of Braffin teeth sat quietly. Next to him was an elf with long, silver hair. Although he looked younger than the Kirander, he had a sense of timelessness about him that hinted at a very long life. Rocky had seen him before. It took a few moments, then it came back to him. Besancalthien, a friend of Hotherial's. They had met him the first time they met Hotherial, during the disasterous expedition to recover the STAM crystal from Nostrilia. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. Things were looking up.

"These... friends of yours are impudent" said the old Kirander. "There is bloodfeud between their people and ours. Our friendship runs long and deep, Besancalthien. I have many sons that are nyselan to elvish lords. But you do not rule here. I should destroy these two."

Besancalthien nodded. "I understand, honored one, and thank you for your patience. With your permission, I will be happy to remove their unwanted presence from your lands. Furthermore, I would like to make a gift to you for your generosity." He removed a scroll from his robes. "I have a scroll that will allow you to speak with one of your ancestors for an hour. Please accept this small token of my appreciation."

The Kirander Chief looked around at the other Kirander in the room. Each one nodded acceptance, some slowly. The Chief looked back at Besancalthien. "Very well, Besancalthien. I know you are not responsible for their lack of common sense. But I must tell you that these... activities strain the ancient boundaries of the Nyselantara. The ones who become Nyselan are yours. Our lands, our customs, they are ours. These events smack of interference."

Besancalthien replied "I understand, honored one. I have heard of Nyya Slison and his complaints."

"Nyya Slison is a stupid man" said the chief, "merely trying to capitalize on an issue to gain power in the tribes. But there are others who are not so stupid. Nyya Jalphon is a new warrior of the Halvain tribe. He has many followers... and the number is growing. I tell you, Bes, bad times are coming."

Besancalthien looked down, then, finally, said "Let us hope we can both weather them, then, my friend."

At the chiefs orders, two Kirander warriors approached Rocky and Legum. The bags were removed, and Rocky emulated Legums surprised start as the will sapping spell was lifted. They both followed Besancalthien with lowered heads, attempting to look the part of severely whipped puppies. Legum began to speak as soon as they were clear of the tent, but Besancalthien motioned him to be silent. After they were well out of the Kirander camp, he finally turned to them and looked at them critically. "You and your friends must have been sticks used to destroy hornet's nests in a previous life" he said, half serious. "I've never in my life - and that is an exceedingly long time - have seen so few people cause so much trouble".

"For ghod's sake, Besancalthien, we didn't know there was some kind of agreement between you and the Kirander we were breaking. We thought they were close allies of yours" said Rocky in exasperation.

Besancalthien shook his head. "They are in a way. Under an agreement reached back during the fall of Tawhiem to the Chen Kunda, we have certain... arrangements with the Kirander. We helped them survive the Chen Kunda. They in turn provide us with the Nyselan. One of every three children, when they reach maturity, pledge themselves to one of us. Generally, we try to keep it one-to-one, one human to one elf, but in special cases, we do form groups of Nyselan. In any case, the Nyselan are no longer Kirander, and, contrapositively, we have no control or power among the Kirander tribes. There is, of course, a large amount of trade and goodwill between the elves and the Kirander due to the Nyselantara agreement, and both sides benefit from this. But it is a side effect of the basic agreement, not an integral part of it. There has been some... argument among the Kirander recently about this arrangement Many feel that they have paid too long, and that the debt has been repaid many times over."

"We couldn't have known that" argued Rocky again.

"I know." He shrugged. "It did not turn out poorly. Certainly not as poorly as your friend's journey."

Legum grabbed Besancalthien's arm. "What? What happened? Are they well?"

Besancalthien looked grim. "We don't know. All we can say for sure is that a few days after they left Myshavar gate for Tuga gate, the Myshavar launched an attack into Tuga territory by travelling though the shadow lands. A bloodfued has been declared. Myshavar and Tuga are at war."