What has gone before #18

Hot water in Nostrilia The tunnel Hammerhand used the torch to burn off some of the thick cobwebs in front of him. They curled away, smoldering and emitting a pungent smoke. They had to have gone at least a mile in this ancient underground passage. The only sign that it was going anywhere was a barely perceptible upward slant. At least, he hoped it was barely perceptible, and not his overactive imagination. "I think I see something ahead" said Jake beside him. Indeed, the light of the torch did not cast the eerie shadows off of the rough hewn walls as it had for so long now. After a few moments, it became clear that the tunnel ended... in a wall. They approach cautiously, but it really was solid earth in front of them. To have marched so long, leaving the castle dungeon a mile behind, and to find this; it was infuriating. Then Hammerhand noticed the dark insets in the wall. Hand and foot holes, leading up. He looked at the ceiling. There was an obvious seam running along one flat section of the roof. "Door out here" he said in his guttural common. Guido climbed up first, checking for traps and finding none. Jake pushed, and the secret door opened into an old, dust laden room. The spent the next few hours searching the floor they had entered on, the ground floor. Only one room seemed of interest. Molding, rotten parchment was scattered across the half-collapsed tables, some spilling onto the floor. To glean any useful information would be a long, tedious task. They had no choice, however. Slowly, the picture became clearer. This place had originally been called the Gorwell Institute for Advanced Transportation. Somewhere along the line, it had been renamed the Academy for Military Magic Applications. Most of the papers appeared to be concerned with catapult design. No one in the party was expert enough to be able to determine if it was different from the standard catapults of the day or not, however. The next day, they explored the second floor. Laboratories made up the majority of the rooms, some with the animated skeletons that had almost cost Rocky his life. They were destroyed without serious damage to the party this time. Again, only a few room of interest were found. One held large four by eight by twenty foot lengths of well preserved wood. They were almost impossible to cut with a knife, seemingly hard as steel. Another room had a hexagonal area and a pentagram in it, along with various large blocks of marble and other materials that glowed faintly in a Detect Magic spell. The worldgates always appeared to be hexagonal... except for the portable worldgate they had found in the dungeon on their first expedition here several months before. A third room contained a hexagon, but this one had the standard black pillars and was enclosed in a large steel cage. It hummed faintly, and a Detect Magic showed it to be at least partially active. Behind the cage were skeletons of the non-animated variety, held to the wall by ancient shackles. Rocky decided to call on his power to raise the dead, if only for a while, once again. One of the skeletons suddenly spasmed, then drew itself shakily to its feet. "Who disturbs the rest of Rendlon?" it cried in a horrible, dry whisper. "I do" cried Rocky, better prepared than he had been the first time. "I have questions." "Ask your questions, then, and let me return to the peace of darkness" cried the skeleton mournfully. "Who are you?" "Brice Rendlon, a fighter, strong and courageous with much experience in the ways of the sword." "A spud, in other words" said Tallow. This earned him an annoyed glance from Rocky. "I... do not understand the question." "Why are you chained here?" spoke Rocky quickly, before Tallow could respond. "I was to be taken through the gate." "Where does the gate go?" "To the shadow land!" "Why where you being taken to the shadow land?" 'Tor a ceremony, a most horrible one." Rocky asked a number of other questions, mostly trying to determine who was involved in this ceremony, but received very little information. Suddenly, the skeleton raised its arms and spoke loudly. "Beware the greatshadowbeasts!" Then the thing collapsed, bones rattling across the floor. Nothing else of interest was found on the second floor, and they ventured down the staircase to the basement. The spiral staircase opened to a huge room, fifty by ninety feet, with no furniture or other objects. The far wall, however, was a large, sculptured mosaic of people. Toward the outside, happy, cheerful people worked on wagons, horses, and other things. As the half sculpture, half mural moved toward the center of the wall, the people became darker, bitter looking workers and the wagons and other things were replaced with catapults, arbalists, other weapons of war. In the very center was a man, a cunning, shifty looking sort with a handlebar mustache. Overhead were letters, each one on a large, protruding block. They spelled the name "MORGART." 'This is too damn obvious" said Tallow in disgust. He lightly pushed on one of the squares, felt it give a bit. "Yep, they are giant buttons, like I suspected." "Some kind of word jumble?" said Templar, understanding dawning. "Thaf s my guess" said Tallow. "In fact, I think I know what it is. Gorwell Academy of Military Magic Applications... GAMMA! Don't you get it?" "Ummmm Tallow, its really the Gorwell Institute of..." "Man, are you people turning into total wimps, or what?" Tallow said. "There's bound to be a massive treasure behind here." He turned, and before anyone else could react, pushed the square containing the letter "G". There was a dick and nothing else. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!" Screamed Ziwa frantically. She caught her breath. "Do what you want... after I'm out of the room." She turned and climbed the staircase to the second floor. Everyone except Tallow and Rocky followed. "You sure about this?" asked Rocky nervously. Tallow pushed the "A" block. Another click sounded, and he smiled at Rocky in triumph. "What are the chances of getting two in a row if I'm not?" "Pretty slim" answered Rocky, smiling back. "Hey, we took the risk, we get the lion's share of the loot" said Tallow as he pushed the "M" block. There was a loud thud behind them. They turned, saw the exit to the spiral staircase was now blocked by a large slab of stone. "Oh oh..." said Rocky, as another loud thud and the sound of rushing water filled the room. Water exploded out of holes in the far sides of the room, the pressure almost enough to knock them off their feet. They rushed for the door. Fortunately, the rest of the party had returned down the staircase when they heard the sound of the slab falling into place. Several passwalls were cast, and a sputtering Rocky and Tallow literally fell though the temporary doorways along with a flood of water. They retreated up the staircase. "We need to think about this" said Legum seriously. "Naaa" cried Tallow. "We can bull our way through this. How many combinations of letters can there be?" "About ten trillion" answered Legum under his breath. None the less, the next day, after the trap had reset, they tried again, and were again flooded out. The next day, they were lucky and guessed two more letters, the two R's. GARR wasn't sufficient, however, and three more days passed before they finally had the full word, CARROT. With a quiet hiss, the entire section of the wall lifted out of the way. Inside was a large oval room with a large, polished hardwood table in the center. Chairs surrounded it, and it gave off a pleasant lemony smell. At the far end of the room was a raised white marble dais, with five gems adorning the outside edge. Sapphire, Ruby, Onyx, Emerald, and Topaz were set well into the stone. In the very center was a symbol, two overlapping boxes. "Thaf s the sign of a teleportal" said Guido, recalling the discussion with Hotherial a few weeks before and the resultant realization that a teleportal existed under the Hectlac temple in Bythe. In the meantime, Legum had used his detect magic and found an area of the table that had some kind of spell on it. He touched the spot, and the image of a man appeared in the center of the table. "Welcome to the meeting place of the Totami society" it exclaimed. "Please give me the password now." Templar and Galrog looked at one another. Galrog shrugged, then cried out "Morgart". "That is not correct. Please give me the password now." Legum tried. "Carrot." "That is not correct. Please give me the password now." "GAMMA" yelled Tallow hopefully. "That is not correct. Appropriate entries have been made in the logs concerning this failure. Please have a good day, and visit us again." The apparition disappeared. "Damn. Well, anyone have any ideas?" "We could go to the horse's mouth" said Rocky. "Meaning?" "We try to find Morgarf s body and I raise him." It was a sensible suggestion, and they ventured out into the town the next day. There was a large graveyard not far from the castle, and a few hours of searching turned up Morgarf s tombstone. Chiseled into the massive granite block were the words:

Morgart Brekken The Black Wolf of Tendut 9997-1053 Garroted to death while he slept May he rest forever

"Garroted to death? What was that phrase again we got from the undead elf, Cecil or whatever his name was? 'Morgart's death is the key to the passage', wasn't it? I guess we just wasted a week here." Tallow shrugged. "Oh well. Shall we get busy?" An hour later, they had the coffin dug out. Jake pried open the casket, and Rocky concentrated the power of the amulet. The decayed bones inside did the knitting thing, and the moldy skeleton sat up. "Who disturbs Morgan's rest in the..." "Oh, shut up" said Tallow. 'Tm tired of all the whining you undead do whenever we want to ask a few questions." The skeleton looked at him "I don't understand the question." Rocky began to question Morgart, who claimed no knowledge of the teleportal or the Totami society. He did say he had been garroted while sleeping in bed with his wife, Sabrina. Not much else of interest was learned, and finally the skeleton collapsed back into the coffin. "Next?" asked Jake. "We contact Hotherial" said Legum. "I think... I think we need to sleep on this" said Ziwa. Legum noticed she was clutching Facinalethvree tightly. Was Facinalethvree going to let her eavesdrop on Hotherial again? That might just answer a number of questions. They headed back for the Magic Academy to settle in for the night. First watch Ziwa was use to it by now, the sensation of rushing through darkness at unimaginable speed. Soon she heard the voices she expected. They rapidly - m fc grew from faint whispers in the dark to understandable voices. It was as if she were standing in a dark room with the speakers. She wondered for a moment what the effected would be if she voiced a comment, but decided on the more prudent silent approach. The conversation was the odd elf-communication, where mountains of information could be exchanged with a single word. She listened carefully, hearing the voices of Hotherial and Besancalthien. "...gotten the expected complaints from the council concerning our lack of information on troop movements in Pranan" Besancalthien was saying. "Did they buy the excuses you fed them?" replied Hotherial. "Yes and no. I think Ernseltai knew something was amiss, but he passed over it. You'll probably get some hard questions in private, however. There was nothing I could do about it, though. Maybe I was wrong. If so, I'm sorry." "Don't be. You did the right thing. We would never have gotten a clear picture of what was going on in Nostrilia time-slicing with a couple of evonas." "Yes, but continual coverage is taking over a hundred of the evonas and evowas... even some of the focal point shifting variety. We've lost about a quarter of our intelligence gathering capability this week." "Look, Bes, the conclusion we reached on what has been found in the Nostrilia dungeon is unmistakable. It may be the most serious external threat to our security that I've ever run across. We needed to move on it, and fast. Additionally, this new information on the Totami society is worth if s weight in gold. You did the right thing." "All right, I know... I just need to be reminded every once in a while. On the Totami society, I'm interested in knowing your plans. If s hard to believe that their secret meeting place is in our own backyard." 'That was just like Gorwell; hiding it behind that honorarium to the black wolf fits in perfectly with the man's sense of humor. Ghod, I miss our chats..." "So you are convinced that Gorwell founded the Totami?" "I've always been pretty sure. It's the same sort of do-gooder organization as he tried to establish with Nostrilia. Some of Gorwell's more dedicated staff were never accounted for when Nostrilia was sacked by the Chen Kunda. They just decided to move underground to avoid the entanglements with the military." "Do-gooder is kind of a harsh word, particularly since you were one of the original members of Nostrilia's group." "I've grown up since then." "Maybe, Hoth, but... anyway, I thought Gorwell was the one that brought the military into Nostrilia?" "That was Sabrina. Ghod, that thrice cursed woman. If s like she was reaching out of the grave, this entire thing with Brogart" There was a moment of silence. "Hoth, you did what you could for him. How it turned out is unfortunate, but it was through no fault of your own. The Brogart experiment was a sensible idea, and the risk was not obvious." "Brogart might have been an experiment, but he is still my son. Was still my son." There was a long pause. "It was hard to kill him, Bes." "Hotherial, you didn't kill him. Maybe let him die at the outside. But there wasn't much you could have done to prevent it." "Yes. Well, in answer to your original question, I think we try to tag as many of the Totami as possible. They aren't a large group. Get a few, and we'll bag the entire bunch. They are obviously going to know that their secret rendezvous has been compromised when they see someone has been trying to access their information demon. They tried to guess the password last night. Assuming someone checks every week or so, we've got about three days on the average before it is spotted. So I think we need to get the adventurers to use the teleportal as quickly as possible." "And then?" "Recruit Totami were we can. Watch the rest, and terminate the ones that seem to be up to something." "You know Ernseltai is going to want to at least neutralize the group, if not outright termination." "Ernseltai isn't going to find out about this." "Hotherial, how can he miss it? You pulled the entire fourth light infantry out of the ghostwind area in the midst of a cyberbeast infestation. Even with a slow withdrawal, the twenty first heavy mag had to pick up the slack, and Hoth, you know as well as I do that you want hit-and-run tactics with the ceebees. Putting the heavies toe-to-toe with them guarantees a win, but the twenty first is going to... has... taken heavy losses. Even some elves." "I didn't say I wasn't going to tell Ernseltai about Nostrilia, I said I wasn't going to tell him about the Totami. Ernseltai already knows something about it... hell, Plellelan and Krelentin dead and Brogart as good as dead weren't things I could keep secret. Besides, I needed Wenowil to dispatch six METTs to Nostrilia, and ghod knows he can't keep his mind shut to save his life." "Six METTs? Isn't that all of them? Why all six?" "This is a fast op, Bes. The fourth is going to take Nostrilia..." "You're going to INVADE NOSTRILIA!?! Hotherial, are you out of your mind? The council will mind wipe you!" "As I was saying, the fourth is going to take Nostrilia tomorrow afternoon, the METTs move in to sweep the area and grab whatever they can in a week, then we move everyone back across the river, hopefully before anyone knows we're there." "Hotherial, I don't think you've thought this through. This is insane..." "Bes, for ghod's sake, can't you see I've lost control of the situation? There are operating worldgates in that damn city! Operating worldgates in our 'back yard', as you like to call it. There's a cancer here Bes, a cancer we weren't even aware of until these adventurers dug up that artifact. And with cancer, you don't take half measures, you CUT IT OUT!" "Hoth, even if you do get in and out in a week, there's no way that some traces aren't going to be left. Someone will know." "Someone will know, but not because of traces. We can't leave anything behind in Nostrilia, Bes. Too much dangerous knowledge there. We've got to leave a clean slate." "Hotherial, you can't be thinking of... " "The old Greattroll trick they used on Lanotalis island? Opening the gateway directly into the heart of the sun? That's exactly what I'm thinking. The gate will only stand for a few milliseconds, but that will be enough." "Hotherial, you'll slag the entire city, not to mention the environmental impact from the heat, radiation, and dust..." "Like I said, Bes, with cancer, you cut, and cut deep..." The voices faded suddenly. Chills were running up and down Ziwa's spine. What did "slagging a city" mean? She thought about the burned, melted areas along the docks and castle walls left behind during the wars five centuries ago. Was Besancalthien saying the entire city would look like that? It was something beyond her comprehension. What force could do something like that? Her thoughts were interrupted by more whispers, whispers she didn't want to hear. The chills began to verge on terror. "Ahhh, Sandish. How goes it with Brogart?" "No change. Complete mindwipe... and apparently irreversible. Just as clearly, he had no idea that this would happen to him." "Any idea how it was triggered?" "No. We had plenty of barriers up... if Hotherial can actually penetrate them, he either knows more about us that we think, or he has ghodlike powers." "Neither seems likely. Keep looking." "I will." "The madsend gem?" "Still where he left it. I've tried three times; all three became gibbering idiots before they got within a hundred yards of it. And the effects are long lasting, perhaps at least partially permanent." "So we need a non-elf to utilize it effectively. Interesting. This does present a challenge, doesn't it? Renala is such a interesting game." "Mind if I ask you a question?" "Go right ahead, Sandish." "Why haven't we sent a team to Nostrilia? We've got a group of adventurers there who have burned us badly once. It would be nice to... entertain ourselves with them while we searched the ruins." "Small fish, Sandish. I don't know how Hotherial got wind of our attempt to renala Veskavar into a confrontation with Kekamar, but these pawns were just his instrument, albeit an effective one. But our chance will come. Veskavar still has Godslayer, and he is making progress on Sheravar Gate. Kekamar may yet fall prey to Godslayer's thirst. Don't let petty revenge blind you, Sandish." "But think about what we might find there! The madsend gem is not a random artifact. There may be other effective weapons there!" "Yes, I'm sure there is. I'm also sure that Hotherial has the area under constant surveillance. Our 'friend' is reporting sudden in holes in Hotherial's daily briefing to the council. I think I can guess why." "So? Send an eye ess." "Evona and evowa see on more than the visible light range, Sandish. Besides, I have other plans for Nostrilia." There was a low, evil chuckle. "Oh, really? Such as?" "Think about it, Sandish. Brogart reported the place full of undead. We've known for a long time about the Moratyr, and how they opened gates to the Dreadlord's home plane in an effort to find allies against the Chen Kunda. We never bothered to ask how they developed the gates in the first place. The Dreadlord plane is not easy to reach." "What, you think Nostrilia?" "Exactly. Nostrilia actually had a large amount of gate research underway. Then suddenly it shut down... right about the time Gorwell and Hotherial had their falling out. Now, I begin to wonder if Gorwell just became a bit more secretive about the research. Morgart might have driven things in that area even further. He was a fool, never wanting to think about the possible side effects of his pet projects." "So you think the gate... or at least the path to the Dreadlord plane... was discovered in Nostrilia and given to the Moratyr, who..." "Who used it when they captured Equintin gate from the Chen Kunda, figuring that the Dreadlords and Chen Kunda would crush each other." "An interesting hypothesis. Any support for it?" "Undead in Nostrilia. There is a operating gate there, one was at one time open to the Dreadlord plane, and which is at least partially open at this time. You know the undead can't last long outside a few miles of such a portal, and these have clearly lasted five hundred years." "True. But I fail to understand how you are going to use this against the Sindarin." "You have so little imagination, Sandish. We've been looking to undermine the Sindarin's carefully maintained appearance of nuetrality, tried to get some powerful group working against them." "So?" "So the Dreadlords are constantly looking for more life-force. They've sucked the areas around their current gates dry, even if they didn't have the Moratyr constantly hounding them. Sure, they have the nighthounds... but capturing enough victims to satisfy their hunger would take an army of nighthounds, not hundreds. So suppose they suddenly hear about a new gate, one far removed from their current hunting grounds, with fresh meat for the table..." ''Why, one would suppose they would make any sacrifice to capture that gate." Two evil chuckles sounded this time. "Correct, Sandish. In fact, we have had a Dreadlord and about a division of vamps headed for Nostrilia for the past week. The VFOs are already there, scouting the area. The full division should arrive on the eve of the morrow. They can't last for more than a few weeks unless they find the gate, but they think that will be more than sufficient." "What if Hotherial finds out?" "I hope he does. Thaf s the beauty of it, Sandish. There's nothing he can do about it. He can't have Dreadlords playing with worldgates as next door neighbors... even if he was willing, the council would strip him of his position. For ghod's sake, the elf is supposed to be suppressing knowledge of worldgates, not supporting it." "You're thinking a large confrontation?" "Our source is reporting rumors of heavy losses fighting cyberbeasts in the wake of Amar gate's last sending. Heavy losses, Sandish. The Sindarin learned effective hit and run tactics for dealing with the cybers a long time ago. Why switch now?" "Correct type of troops not available?" 'It seems likely. And a Heavy Magic Division, while the carry a lot of firepower and capable of moving quickly, aren't very effective at capturing and holding terrain. Just not enough foot soldiers. A light, or medium infantry division, however... well, you've got a hundred elves and two or three hundred Nyselan." "Hotherial's pulled a infantry division out of the ghostwind area, leaving a HMD to pick up the slack against the cyberbeasts... Oh, my, this is good. You're telling me we have a Dreadlord Vampire division and a Sindarin infantry division closing on Nostrilia at the same time. We are going to see a few fireworks, aren't we?" "An understatement Sandish, a very large understatement." The voices faded into the distance. Ziwa suddenly realized she had been holding her breath, which she now let out with a gasp. Vampires? What where vampires? Whatever they were, they didn't sound good. Another variety of undead... hopefully, one less deadly than the skeletons and zombies they had run into thus far. Facinalethvree floated in front of her, the little emerald green firefly zipping around it. It was funny, that little green light. It seemed to wax and wane to no particular rhythm. This night, it seemed strangely subdued. Ziwa, on sudden impulse, reached out and grabbed it as it swung by. Her fingers tightened around... something, rich green light spilling out between them. She brought it dose, opened her fist. She saw a woman, an elvish woman dressed in black leather and chainmail, with long silver hair and black gloves. The eyes were green, and they were hard, icy, fanatical. Her body was tense, her face set with some higher purpose. "'Daughter" said the small apparition, "beware the powerful, for they have much to lose. Beware the gates, for they have much to give. You and your friends are dose. A dreadlord, a troll, an elf, humans, a hobbit. You need one more, one more before you seek the key. Most of all, beware the key. Changeling can open doors as well as dose them." Then she was gone. Facinalthvree faded from sight, and Ziwa collapsed back into regular sleep. Even here, she was troubled by dreams. Hotherial tried to help her to her feet, but died shrieking at her mindtouch; Baldar kissed her, but suddenly became someone else; Krusko staggered in front of her, collapsed, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his chest, while behind him Bythe stood outlined in flames; Pedwar Pythaen and Everly Underhill asked her to dinner and they drank golden sunshine and talked about nothing significant but everything meaningful. They walked into a room she didn't recognize, dark wood, rich tables, silver platters laden with food, but something heavy and oppressive made it all seem ugly and garish. She turned; Everly and Pedwar were gone. There was a scraping sound behind her, that of chair being pushed out from a table. Fear suddenly grasped her body, made her tremble. She slowly turned. An elf, a tall elf dressed completely in black, with a single red ruby implanted in his forehead. A large, leather belt with a gold buckle was around his waist, a sword sheathed at his side. The pommel was gold and jewels, shaped in the fashion of a dragon biting it's own tail. He smiled, a twisted smile with malice and contempt. "Ziwa, how pleasant to find you in my dreams. I have missed you, my girl. Your mind was so terribly innocent, so easy to twist." Her voice came out flat, dead. "Ragnerok" she said in a monotone. "So you remember. Well, no harm in that here, in a dream." He walked toward her. "I see you have developed. You aren't a little girl any more, are you." Again, he grinned his hateful smile. "Come here, Ziwa." She was paralyzed for a moment, then instinct took over, and her hand was on Facinalethvree, ripping the sword free of the scabbard. Ragnerok stopped, his grin wiped off his face. "An elvish sword? Where did you get that?" "Thaf s not that important" Ziwa replied, "come a little closer and I'll show you where I can put it. He regained his poise and his grin returned. He lazily reached down, slid his hand into his own sword's hilt, pulling it halfway out of the scabbard. A transparent, glasslike blade flickered with opal fire up and down its length. "Even an elvish sword is not protection again Changeling, Ziwa. But I have no need for this." He pushed the sword back down. His voice changed, became deeper, more commanding. "Ziwa, put down the sword and come to me." Facinalethvree's point dropped, and she almost lost her grip on the handle. She put one foot forward and stopped. "Come to me, Ziwa" he said again, and again, she stepped forward, one slow, horrifying step at a time. Facinalethvree's point hit the floor, but again, somehow, she hung on to it, the point dragging behind her. "Look into my eyes" he commanded, and her head came up. She tried desperately to look to the side, but a dark, gloved hand cupped her chin and she looked, staring directly into hell. She was going to fall straight into those eyes... with a scream, she suddenly jerked Facinalethvree's pommel, with the sharp, pointed end, straight up into Ragnerok's face. The point ripped into his right eye, and he jumped back, hands going to his face. "You bitch, you've blinded me!" he screamed, and with a roar of rage, he drew Changeling. Opal fires flickered and caught, growing in size and brightness. A wind sprung up, a wind that seemed to suck things directly into the shimmering fires. Ziwa turned and ran, ran for what seemed like hours. She suddenly slammed into someone who caught and held her. She looked up, crying, beginning to struggle free. "My love, what's the problem?" "Baldar?" she said, her voice betraying her shock. Her attempts to push herself away from him stopped. "Of course, my love." He had always been handsome, but now he fairly glowed with vitality and charm. She had never seen him look so good. "I couldn't leave you out here, frightened, alone." "Out here?" she said, confused. "Yes. In your dreams. Where are you, Ziwa? Dreams are such fickle things. I'd like to see you again. I have to see you again." "Nostrilia... we're in Nostrilia, Baldar. But how..." "Did I find you? A friend taught me this. Dreams can be very powerful, Ziwa. They provide access to parts of people they normally try to hide, aspects of personality they would feel more comfortable without. I can... satisfy those aspects, for a price." "A price?" she repeated. "Yes, but I'm just here to find you, my love. Nostrilia. Farther than I expected, but I have... new methods of travel as well. I will see you soon, my love, count on it." He leaned toward her, caught her face in his hands, kissed her. Warmth flooded through her body, warmth and hunger, and something more base that asked for nothing more than pleasure, pleasure in ways she knew were wrong somehow. His touch faded, and she opened her eyes to darkness. Her eyes closed. Then she finally slept, with no more dreams to trouble her.