by Jeff Wilcox
Kaiyr looked from the amulets to his companions. Wild gave him a helpless look and said, “Why don’t the two of you take them? You know me—I like doing things my own way. Besides, if you really need to stay in contact with me, there’s no reason you can’t just take one off and hand it to me.”
The blademaster nodded at Wild and donned one amulet as Caineye put the other one on. “Master Kathir, there is something else,” Kaiyr said, turning back to the Terth’Kaftineya. “We also discovered a pit full of vicious werewolves in a different cellar but in the same building as the artifacts we seek. They seem more feral than the others and may pose a great danger if they escape during our operation. I thought to warn you of them.”
Kathir nodded his thanks for the caution. “I see. A pit, you say? I might have just the device to deal with them.” Returning to the pile of various supplies, the creature dug around for a few minutes before returning gingerly holding a small, glass orb in his mouth. He gently set it in Kaiyr’s hand. “Be careful with this. Throw it into the pit with the creatures you described. When the glass breaks, be sure you have something solid between you and it.”
“My thanks. We should commence the attack during the night,” Kaiyr said to the others, tucking the orb into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. “It is too late for that tonight. Let us take rest and use the daylight hours tomorrow to set up the raid. We must not let them know we are coming, but we must be ready to strike when the time is right.”
Everyone, the Terth’Kaftineya included, agreed with the elf, and they settled in for the remainder of the night. Caineye and Vinto felt particularly at home, and the druid stayed up for several hours around a campfire in the cavern, trading stories with some of the wolf-like creatures.
The next day found everyone refreshed and eager to get the operation underway. After a quick breakfast, the two groups, the infiltration team and the diversionary Terth’Kaftineya, set out for Andorra. They did not know what to expect, but whatever power controlled the people of the town had not seen fit to mount a pursuit of the escapees. More, the watch on the wall had not changed, and the forest surrounding the town was eerily silent.
“Is it always like this?” Caineye asked Mateus, who had come with them. He was to show them the hidden entrance to the town but not to enter.
Mateus nodded. “Yes. Their unnatural presence frightens the local wildlife. That was our first indication that all was not right.”
Kaiyr, crouching next to them in the underbrush, glowered at the palisade. “I should have been more observant,” he said. “The newer buildings in town were most certainly not of elven make. It is a clue I should have noticed.”
Caineye looked over at the blademaster. “Don’t take it so hard on yourself, Master Kaiyr. None of us noticed anything amiss at first.”
But Kaiyr shook his head. “I failed in my duty as a blademaster to properly observe my surroundings. My indiscretion put us all in danger… again.”
The druid opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it, familiar with blademasters’ tendency toward obstinacy and remembering the situation with Astra back in Isth’vern. His silence set a precedent for the rest of the day, and the group spoke little else until nightfall.
Mateus cocked an ear to the wind. Kaiyr noticed the motion and turned his head, listening. He could barely make it out, but a series of low howls filtered through the nighttime forest.
The Terth’Kaftineya looked at the others. “The time is now. I have shown you the way. Now you must walk it.” He indicated the hidden entrance to the tunnel, hidden beneath an old stump. “I shall return to the others and join the raid. If killing our friends is the only way to release them from this curse, then so be it. Fare you well.”
With that, Mateus bounded away into the night. The group watched his sleek form dart into the trees like a bolt of silver lightning.
Caineye lifted the stump, which swung upward on a hinge. “Well, let’s get going.”
Kaiyr went first, manifesting his soulblade and jumping into the tunnel feet-first. He led the way through the tunnel and out the other side, where the group ducked into the shadow of a nearby building.
Andorra was already in an uproar. The “elves” all scrambled about with the speed of a trained military as they responded to the threat of the Terth’Kaftineya at the palisade. The night was bright, and light from three of the world’s four moons illuminated the scene.
Keeping to the ever-present underbrush in the interior of Andorra, the party weaved its way back to the house holding the artifacts, moving in silence behind Kaiyr. Through his vigilance, the group managed to arrive without getting into any confrontations and thus ruining their clandestine mission.
Gaining access to the house was much simpler this time, as Wild confirmed that none of the traps had yet been reset. It was dark inside, and so Caineye carried with him a stone over which he once again cast an illuminating spell.
When all of them except Vinto finally arrived in the basement, they took a few moments to ponder the scene. The magical shield’s dim glow spread a milky light over everything; near Caineye this illumination was overpowered by his enchanted stone.
*
“And so, we end up stuck here again, I say,” Matt told us. He tapped his pencil on his character sheet. “Seriously, we still have no clue what we’re going to do about this. I’m all for just trying to cross it.”
“Well, we already know it doesn’t seem to stop objects from crossing,” I said, “since you threw that pebble across.” I shot him a mock glare, and he played along, shrinking back comically.
“Maybe it just keeps out those werewolf-elves,” Xavier suggested while Dingo watched and listened impassively.
I thought about it, then shook my head. “I doubt that, because then it would mean that the elves knew what was coming for them. It might just be a precaution they already had in place, and it just happens to keep any bad guys out.” We all stared at each other for a minute.
Dingo spoke up during the silence. “You all hear the sounds of battle as it draws closer above you, and the humming of the barrier is drowned out. Are you going to do anything?”
We thought about it for a few heartbeats more. Then I turned to Wild. “Do you, by any chance, have a ten-foot pole
[33] ?” I asked, still in my normal voice.
Matt brightened. “Why, yes, I do, sir. Mine’s even collapsible. Good thinking.” He turned to Dingo. “I telescope my pole to its full length. Is it enough to reach the altar without touching the barrier?”
Dingo paused, then leaned forward and used a marker to draw a map of the room on our battle grid. According to his diagram, Wild’s pole would be just long enough to reach. “It’ll be a stretch,” Dingo said, “but you can do it. I want you to make me a Dexterity check.”
Matt picked up his d20 and dropped it. “Uh, that’s a nine,” he said after adding his Dexterity modifier.
Shaking his head, the DM told him, “No good. You only really manage to push the artifacts farther away from you.”
I gave the room at large a wryly amused scowl. “Am I the only one here who finds it funny that we’re trying to get at some ancient elven artifacts with a ten-foot pole? And we’re failing at it?”
We shared laugh at my comment before getting back to business. I looked at Xavier and Matt, glancing down at the inventory area of my character sheet. “Well, I’ve got rope if anyone has a grappling hook.” Both of them checked their sheets and then shook their heads. “Damn me for not being materialistic,” I grumbled. My inventory block was pretty sparse; blademasters depend on their own abilities and tend to carry as little extra weight as possible. To reflect this, Kaiyr carried no backpack, instead using the limited storage space of his sleeves (enough for a few coins and gems, or objects like the glass orb from the Terth’Kaftineya) and what space he could gain by tucking things into his robes or his sash. His rope, actually a fine silk cable, he kept in a specially-prepared pocket in one sleeve.
; Finally, pursing my lips, I announced in my Kaiyr-voice, “I will cross the barrier.”
“Wait, Master Kaiyr,” Xavier said for Caineye. “What if it’s dangerous, or even deadly? There’s no reason for you to sacrifice yourself for this.”
I leveled a serious gaze at Xavier. “It must be done, Master Caineye. Moreover, this is an elven enchantment in an elven village. I, a blademaster, strive to be the epitome of that which is elven. If anyone will be able to safely cross this barrier, it will be I.”
Matt nodded and responded, “I step back and let him around me.” Xavier just raised his hands in silence.
I looked at Dingo. “All right, Dingo. I brace myself and take a step through,” I said, picking up my d20 in anticipation of having to roll some ridiculously high saving throw. “What happens?”
He grinned, enjoying our deliberation and concern at what was obviously no trap. “You step through and are on the other side of the barrier, none the worse for wear.”
I scowled, thinking. “Hmmm… did I feel anything as I crossed the barrier? Any tingles or anything? Can I tell what it does, at all?”
Dingo thought about it for a few moments, then tilted his head from side to side. “Not really. All you can really figure out is that the barrier was looking for something, and you met the requirements.”
I nodded, and Xavier looked at Dingo. “All right. I’m going to step through next.”
*
Kaiyr paused, glancing back at the barrier thoughtfully. The three of them looked at each other in silence for a few moments. Then, with a shrug, Caineye stepped into the barrier. Kaiyr held his breath, but the druid, too, came through without triggering whatever effects the barrier would have on an unwanted visitor.
“Hey!” Wild exclaimed, and it was only then that the other two realized that the halfling had tried to join them—and had found his passage blocked by the same barrier the other two had crossed without difficulty. “This is so not fair,” he grumbled, feeling around the barrier. To Wild, the magical wall was exactly that, and it didn’t seem intent on letting him through even as his little fingers vainly searched for an opening.
Kaiyr stared at the halfling for a few moments, then nodded to himself and turned back to the altar with the pieces of Ministriel’s Regalia. Caineye smiled knowingly as Wild crossed his arms. “Just wait, Wild,” said the human. “We’ll be back across in a second.”
“It’s still not fair,” Wild huffed, crossing his arms.
Kaiyr stepped up to the altar, illuminated brightly when Caineye turned to face it, carrying his enspelled stone. He had seen the Helm of Ministriel numerous times during his life in Ivyan, the artifact displayed in remembrance of the great hero, even if his deeds had been long forgotten. The shield and bracers were of the same design as the missing helmet. All the pieces were made of mithril, but the silvery sheen of the polished metal had been worn away by Ministriel’s heavy use and splattered with blood and grime. Despite this, complex runes were still visible, their forms engraved into the mithril and then filled with diamond dust magically fused to the metal. The arcane markings bespoke great power, and when the light from Caineye’s stone hit the dust, it seemed to be reflected with more intensity than the original light.
Kaiyr reverently lifted the pieces from the altar, gingerly placing the bracers inside the curve of the shield before lifting the shield in his robed arms. Then, nodding at Caineye and Wild, he strode toward the exit.
Just as he exited the barrier, Kaiyr froze. “All is not right,” he warned his companions. “Beware.”
“That’s right, Blademaster,” said a voice from the corner, right behind the ladder leading upward and to safety. “But soon it will be. You can give us that shield and those bracers, now.” From the shadows, two forms materialized, having been hidden by illusory magic.
“Damn,” Caineye swore, “they were probably there the whole time.”
“I know you,” Kaiyr said, his deep voice at the same time dangerous and detached. “You are the constable who helped me find this house. It seems as though your ploy has worked—so far.” He leaned down and placed Ministriel’s Regalia on the ground. “I know not your aims, foul creatures,” he said as Caineye and Wild both stepped forward, spells and daggers ready, respectively, “but I know you are no longer elven. You shall not have these relics.”
“Oh, that’s all right. We only needed you to get them out of that blasted circle,” said the constable as the other one with him drew a longsword. “Now we’ll just kill you and take it.”
Kaiyr stepped forward, around the shield and bracers. “That is easily amended,” he said calmly, and with his foot he pushed the ensemble back into the circle’s perimeter. The shield sent up purple and red sparks as it skidded across the floor and came to rest next to the altar.
The “constable” snarled, a feral sound, and the room burst into chaos. As Kaiyr straightened and manifested his soulblade, Caineye snapped out the words to a spell, launched a splinterbolt at the constable, and missed. It shattered against the far wall and showered everyone with splinters. Wild flipped his daggers into a reverse grip and closed with the other foe.
The blademaster hopped forward with a measured attack against the constable, who drew his sword and parried the thrust with the flat of his blade. Neither combatant flinched when a pumpkin-sized flame, launched from Caineye’s fingertips, soared past and smacked into the other opponent’s chest, igniting his tabard and giving him cause to flail about momentarily in order to quench the flames. Wild took the opportunity to hamstring the “elf” before having to back away under a furious counterattack by the crippled but infuriated warrior.
Sparks flared as Kaiyr and the constable slammed their weapons against each other. The blademaster, with his training, could almost see a split-second into the future, and wherever the constable tried to strike, Kaiyr’s soulblade was there, deflecting the attack.
Faster and faster, Kaiyr stepped up the pace of his duel, his spiritual weapon turning into a glittering blur as he shifted from defense to offense. Having gained a measure of his adversary’s combat ability, Kaiyr now knew the man was no match for him, especially after Wild and Caineye downed the first foe and then closed with the constable. As Caineye backed off, preserving his limited powers, Kaiyr worked with Wild to take down the constable, and after the blademaster severed the creature’s carotid artery, the constable fell and did not rise as his lifeblood spilled out onto the stone floor.
The party stood there, heaving and staring at the shadows as if expecting more enemies to emerge from the darkness. When, after several long moments, none did, Kaiyr released his hold on his soulblade, which disappeared as suddenly as it had jumped into his hands only a minute earlier. “Let us begone from this place before any more of our adversaries come to their aid,” he said, leaning down and gathering the shield and bracers into his arms.
“Loot and scoot!” Wild agreed enthusiastically, already crouched beside the bodies as his fingers, unsupervised by the eyes of their owner, quickly rifled through first one dead foe’s belongings, then the other’s. By the time he was finished, the bodies had already reverted to fully elven forms.
They all quickly ascended the ladder and were partway to the door when Caineye paused. Stopping, Kaiyr threw him a concerned glance. “What is the matter, Master Caineye?”
The druid looked back at the back wall. “The werewolves,” he said, “let’s take care of them.”
Nodding his agreement, Kaiyr strode to the hidden door in the back of the room, now hanging open. Wild and Caineye followed and helped him open the iron trapdoor just wide enough to let him slip the glass orb through the crack.
*
“Holy Hand Grenade, ho!” Matt exclaimed with a gleeful grin.
“One, two… five!” I agreed, miming the act of pulling a pin and throwing a grenade in Dingo’s direction, who, along with the rest of us, laughed. Then we got back in character.
*
“Look out below,” Wil
d said cheerfully as they slammed the trapdoor closed. As soon as the orb reached the ground, it exploded with a cacophony of light and sound; the cracks around the trapdoor and between the floorboards shone with a solar radiance, and Kaiyr, standing on the door to hold it closed while Wild locked it, stumbled off when the heavy door blew back open. They peered inside only long enough to determine that the two-dozen-odd creatures below had been turned into little more than black stains on the walls and floor.
The group was out the door without another wasted word. Wild broke away from the party, heading toward the temple of Alduros Hol as Kaiyr and Caineye darted through the trees, seeking any innocent visitors to Andorra who might be caught up in the turmoil.
Around them, Andorra was in complete chaos. The Terth’Kaftineya must have truly surprised the ensorcelled elves, for the sounds of battle resonated from less than a hundred yards away.
The trio regrouped ten minutes later, Kaiyr and Caineye having determined that any stragglers in the area had fled or been killed. Wild, however, came with the young acolyte from the temple in tow. The man looked much the worse for wear, with long gashes in his robes through which blood had soaked and dried.
