Nexwave Erotic

The Harem Episode 5

“The Harem, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Rose McGowan and Jennifer Aniston throw a pool party with some very special female celebrity guests.

So here we are back again with a good story. I thought since all the major networks were having the season premieres of their shows, why not premiere Season 2 of The Harem. And since I’m in charge now, I thought a big mega episode was in order to mark the occasion.

Now, let’s quickly review what has happened in case you haven’t read this series before. First off we met Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jennifer Love Hewitt as they prepared to audition for the lead in a hot new movie. Their mutual rivalry boiled over into a heated confrontation that ended, as most arguments between hot women do, with them having sex on the floor. Quickly realizing they had stumbled into something special, Sarah and Love, as she preferred to be called, decided not only to continue this new relationship, but to drag other women into it as well. Their first target, was the always hot, always offbeat Rose McGowan. After breaking into her trailer and attempting to molest her, Rose quickly turned the tables on the duo and introduced them to her little friend, Mr. Snappy, a dildo of unlimited potential for evil. However, far from being scared off by it, Sarah and Love responded with enthusiasm and quickly converted Rose to their twisted lesbian desires. After quickly adapting to this new lifestyle, Rose eagerly helped Sarah and Love hijack their newest victim, Jennifer Aniston. After a rather interesting limo ride that ended with Jennifer gathering her clothes and pussy cream running down her leg, the Friends actress decided she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure and joined in the games. Unfortunately, the lack of time they had for one another proved to be a daunting obstacle. Jennifer did come up with a great idea though and, after a little coaxing, they all decided to move into a Malibu mansion that had once belonged to a notorious madam who had been busted by the feds. They all moved in together, but not before Sarah picked up the unwanted attentions of a rather persistent PA on the Buffy set. After moving in, it took the girls all of about thirty seconds before they went and fucked each other silly. The end.

Now for the legal stuff. If you’re under 18…GO AWAY! Go do something healthy like listen to that stupid “Proud To Be An American Song” one more time or something. Or go watch MTV, maybe the new Britney Spears song is on, that wont get you thinking about sex or anything.

Also this story is entirely fictional. We might like to think it’s true, but it aint. Sorry.

Finally…feedback…I need it. I want it. I must have it. Believe me when I tell you that I slaved over this story. It took 2 ½ months to write and I think it’s worth it. A kind word or some constructive criticism will make me know my effort was not wasted.

Now as the song goes…on with the show this is it…”

* * * * *

The four girls kept their bodies close together as they lay on the carpet and enjoyed the afterglow of the rather intense encounter they had just shared. They had barely made it through the front door without ripping each other’s clothes off and surrendering to wanton lesbian lust…not that anyone was complaining. Instead all four girls seemed to share the same thought…that was awesome.

The sunlight cast in through the windows and warmed them while they stayed there on the carpet, unconcerned about their complete nudity and not wanting to move an inch. Moving would have disturbed the delicate bliss they had found and no one was in a hurry to do that. Without a word, but saying everything that needed to be said, Sarah, Love, Rose and Jennifer lay on the carpet, softly kissing, stroking and playing with each other’s bodies as the situation warranted.

They hadn’t even unpacked, but they already felt at home. This was certainly an unusual situation, but nothing about what had happened recently could be classified as being even remotely usual. It was almost like it had happened to someone else and the memories played like flashbacks at the beginning of a television series. Sarah and Love letting a rivalry give in to lust at an audition…the seduction of Rose in her trailer…hijacking Jennifer in her limo…it couldn’t have really happened, but it did. Now here they were, in a house that had once been one of the most notorious bordellos in California. Men had once come here to fulfill their private fantasies and now it was home to these four girls and their desires.

After the bust of the house’s madam, one Stephanie DuPont (or Madam Steph as the paper’s had called her), the Federal Government had seized the house. Naturally the government had little use for a big house in Malibu and, as the case against Madam Steph blew up in their face, they became desperate to unload it. Several notable Washington figures had offered to take it off their hands, but they were politely rebuffed. Instead the house had been put quietly on the market where Jennifer’s eagle eyes spotted it. It had taken a little convincing of Sarah to make a go of it, but now here they were, inside the house and definitely enjoying it already. It had taken all of about 30 seconds for them to get naked and fucking…what was it going to be like after 30 minutes or even 30 days?

The thought entered Love’s mind and she let out a sharp giggle at the mind- boggling possibilities this situation seemed to offer for pleasure. It was the first sound that didn’t resemble a moan and it seemed to snap everyone out of the post-sex haze they had been reveling in.

“What was that for?” Sarah asked, smiling in return and placing a quick peck on Love’s lips.

“Nothing…I’m just happy, that’s all,” Love replied. “I think I’m really going to like it here.”

“Ahhhh good to see you haven’t lost your grasp of the obvious,” Rose pointed out. “Love, we’re all going to like it here. That is, if we don’t burn ourselves out.”

“But what a way to go,” Love observed as she shifted over and hugged Rose, their bare breasts pressing into one another and giving each girl a delicious shiver of arousal.

“You know, I hate to say it…but…” Jennifer began.

“Mmmmmm then don’t say it,” Sarah joked, knowing what was coming next and not wanting to acknowledge it.

“Well, we do have to get up eventually,” Jennifer stated. “I mean all our stuff is still outside and I don’t think it’s going to move itself in.

“Spoilsport,” Rose teased. “Nothing ruins a good fuck like the intrusion of reality.”

“Well I guess I’ll have to make it up to you later then, won’t I,” Jennifer suggested as she sat up and began teasing Rose’s thigh with her hand.

“Oh you will and then some,” Rose smiled, standing up and proudly displaying her body. “Now where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Probably thrown on the pile with the rest of ours,” Love guessed, stretching on the floor before finally getting up. “God, I can’t believe how wild we got.”

“Oh please…you loved every second and you were begging for more you little slu-,” Sarah began, before catching herself. Love shot her a playfully dirty look in response. There had been quite a few descriptions amongst them of Love as a slut and, though she acted the part for sure, she wanted to make sure the label didn’t become permanently attached to her name.

It felt almost weird for them to be getting dressed in front of one another. For the most part they had only been doing the reverse of that action. However, Jennifer was right. They did have work to do and if it was going to get done they were going to have to do it now. All four of them could still feel the intense heat they had for one another and they knew the next four-way fuckfest could happen at any second.

The feds had left the majority of the house intact. The furniture was still there as well as some of the more interesting items the business had put into use. Some things were missing though and since the house also hadn’t been inhabited for a while; it needed a good cleaning and some serious spit and polish to get it to the living standard they wanted.

So, with great reluctance, the girls redressed and got to work with establishing a new home base for them. Love and Rose had already decided to make this their permanent address, but that was a luxury Sarah and Jennifer didn’t have. Though Sarah was by no means joined at the hip to her boyfriend Freddie Prinze Jr., she wasn’t going to be able to stay here all the time.

Things would be even more difficult with Jennifer. She had a husband she loved more than anything and hated to be away from. She hadn’t even told him detail one about what had happened with her and Sarah, Love and Rose. She didn’t know how to say it or explain it to herself, much less Brad Pitt. Jennifer supposed she’d be in the house the least of all of them, but right now Brad was out of the country filming a movie, so that concern would have to wait for another day. Right now all that mattered was this moment and getting settled into this beautiful beachfront mansion. She’d jump off the various bridges in her life when she had to.

With neither a vote nor any registered objections Sarah and Jennifer appointed themselves co-captains of the move. Everyone loaded their remaining boxes from their respective cars and, after many trips back and forth; those boxes were at least in the proper rooms. It was going to take a small, heavily armed group of soldiers to get Sarah away from the Empire Room and it’s New York City style décor, so she was given that one. Jennifer eagerly settled into the Grecian Room and there was no way Rose was going to pass up the Medieval Castle room, not with it’s easy access to the dungeon of her dreams. That just left Love and having her pick a room in this place was like handing a kid a bunch of chocolates and telling him he had to only pick one. There were so many rooms she could see herself settling into. But Cupid’s Corner seemed to fit in with the theme of her life, so she bunked down there for now.

When everyone’s stuff was finally all moved to their proper places, Rose and Love did some further exploring of the house, which was interrupted by the occasional make out session, while Jennifer and Sarah busied themselves composing a list of tasks that needed to be accomplished. The power to the house had already been reactivated and over the past weeks, Jennifer had made sure that everyone from the plumber to the cable guy had gotten the house into working order. Food and other essentials still needed to be purchased and, as the heat of the California summer day continued to make its presence felt, despite the air conditioning, there was still one person needed.

“Pool guy…” Sarah and Jennifer said at once as they picked up the yellow pages and began flipping through them to find someone worthy of their patronage. The outdoor pool and the indoor pool were too tempting for them avoid using for long and they wanted to make sure they were ready as soon as possible. When a suitable service was finally located, Jennifer made the call and was somehow able to finagle a same day service call. With Jennifer’s name on the lease, it had been decided that it would be best if she handled this sort of thing. Having four recognizable Hollywood stars meeting the pool guy at the gate would be the perfect way for tongues to start wagging and for gossip reports to start flying. Jennifer’s presence alone would not do that.

So, with the pool guy on his way, Sarah went off in search of Love and Rose so they could go off and hide for a few hours. Sarah, still not entirely familiar with the layout of the house began looking around and eventually found her prey when she heard an unmistakable clue.

“Mmmmmm yesssss…. please…”

Sarah heard the soft cry and followed the familiar voice until she had wandered toward Rose’s room and found Love stretched out on her bed. The fact that Rose’s bed was in the style of an old fashioned rack made for quite the odd sight, especially with Love bound to it, her sundress raised just enough to expose her wet pussy.

“I should have known…” Sarah said as she shook her head affectionately. “You two are incorrigible.”

“Hey, don’t accuse me,” Rose smirked. “She was begging for it and who am I to deny myself a piece of ass like this?”

“You always know just how to phrase things so eloquently don’t you, Rose?” Sarah asked, the idea of helping Rose perform some sweet torture on Love dancing about in her subconscious. Thinking of that and seeing the needy Love on the bed displaying her wetness was mighty appealing, but Sarah managed to fight off her instincts here.

“We’ve barely started, Sarah,” Love pointed out. “Why don’t you get Jen and we can all play?”

“We shouldn’t,” Sarah said, her own disappointment obvious in her voice.

“Why not?” Rose challenged.

“The pool guy’s coming,” Sarah informed her.

“So, it’s not like he’s gonna hear us or anything,” Rose claimed.

“He might though,” Sarah replied.

“So what if he does?” Rose debated. “We can always tie him to the rack next.”

“Mmmmm I like that,” Love suddenly opined, her own mind filled with images of a hunky pool guy strapped to the rack as she rode his naked body.

“Forget it Love,” Sarah stated. “I don’t want everyone gossiping about us. If we’re going to do this, we have to be smart about it. Now please, be good you two. He’ll be gone in a few hours and then believe me we can do whatever the hell we want. You think I don’t want a taste right now? If we had the time, I’d have my tongue giving you the licking you deserve, Love.”

From her confined spot on the bed, Love squirmed with anticipation. She and Rose didn’t want to admit it, but Sarah was right. They had gotten this place so they could all be together and having the next edition of The Star trumpeting an exclusive about the “HOLLYWOOD STAR LESBIAN LOVE NEST,” was not the best way to go about things.

“Fine,” Rose grumbled, reluctantly freeing Love from her restraints. “But now you and Jennifer both owe me and soon I’m going to be collecting…with interest.”

The idea of submitting to Rose’s desires was another appealing thought for Sarah to mull as she felt her pussy moisten under her dress. She couldn’t wait for the pool man to come and go, then they could really get into breaking in the house.

While waiting for the pool man to come in and complete the very necessary tasks of maintenance, Sarah, Love and Rose busied themselves unpacking. It was going to take awhile for these rooms, which had served as pleasure sources for so many different men, to feel like home, but in the meantime the girls did what they could to add their own distinctive touches. However, all their thoughts were focused on one thing and it wasn’t redecorating their rooms. All three wanted to get with the others in a most naked of experiences and at that moment it seemed like the threat of discovery seemed to be an awfully high price to pay.

Jennifer was feeling the same way at the moment as she watched the pool guy do his thing. She forced a smile and pleasant demeanor on herself, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She felt jealous twinges at the idea that her new housemates might be off in a threesome without her. She knew they would probably wait for her, but the nagging doubts and the arousal she felt when she pictured their naked bodies just made her want to get this over with even faster.

She felt bad for the poor pool guy. He seemed nice enough and Jennifer knew she wasn’t doing a good job at hiding her impatience. He was probably going to leave grumbling to himself what a bitch she was. Oh well, she’d send him an extra tip or something when the bill came.

Though she supposed he wasn’t taking any longer than anyone else would have under the circumstances, the minutes seemed more like 60 millennia. Finally, he finished cleaning the outdoor and indoor pools. He gave Jen some tips on proper maintenance and she politely nodded her head as she almost literally pushed him out the door. When she finally closed the front door, she exhaled audibly.

“Is it safe to come out?” Love asked, shyly sticking her head around the corner.

“C’mere and let me show you,” Jennifer offered and she quickly took Love’s face in her hands. She kissed the starlet passionately, finally finding an outlet.

“Oh no…you made us wait, no way are you getting the first orgasm,” Rose chided as she and Sarah also emerged. “This fucking pool better be worth it.”

Rose walked right for the doorway that lead to the outdoor pool and, after flinging them open; even she had to admit she was impressed. The sun beating down on the water gave it a lovely glare and the view of the beach from poolside impressed even Rose’s cynical soul.

“I guess it was worth the wait,” Sarah observed. She wasn’t much of a swimmer or a pool lounger, but it did look awfully nice.

“It would be a great place for guests,” Love offered. In all of this craziness of moving in, they hadn’t even thought of whom they might bring into their little circle next.

“Sounds like you’ve already got someone in mind there Love,” Sarah noticed with an arched eyebrow.

“I might…” Love giggled. “But I think it’s Jennifer’s turn.”

“Oh I wouldn’t know who to bring…” Jennifer replied, before moving the subject away from her “turn.” “You are right though Love, this is a nice spot for entertaining.”

“Yeah and for group skinny dipping,” Love suggested with a laugh.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Rose declared. “And speaking of which…”

Before anyone could think, much less move, Rose’s dress was off and in a flash she dove naked into the water. She descended for a few seconds and finally emerged, her hair soaked and her large breasts bobbing just above the water, droplets running down the exposed sections of her globes.

“Oh fuck that feels good,” Rose moaned as she proceeded to do a little backstroke. “So are the rest of you going to join me or what?”

“Do we even have a choice?” Jennifer asked.

“None whatsoever,” Rose smiled. “You all is my bitches and I say get your asses in here with me.”

Jennifer and Love hardly needed any convincing to do just that, so they began to strip. Suddenly a conflicting viewpoint was heard.

“I don’t think so,” Sarah stated.

“Excuse me?” Rose said incredulously, stopping her backstroke. “Are you challenging me?”

She said this with a smile so Jennifer and Love quickly saw this was going to be a little playful spat and nothing serious. They had frozen in their actions and just stood back to see what was going to happen.

“Little ol’ me? Challenge you?” Sarah smirked. “Nahhh I just think it would be a waste of time to be in the water when you all could be helping me test out my bed upstairs.”

Truth be told, Sarah really wasn’t looking to challenge Rose. She was still a little nervous about this whole thing and just wanted to be inside with her lovers. She felt safer there. She knew that feeling would pass, but right now it was what she wanted. Plus she wasn’t in the mood for sex in the pool right now. She wanted the soft mattress…the pillows…everything.

“We waited all day for this and you don’t even want to fuck in the pool?” Rose asked, mildly surprised by Sarah’s reluctance. It really didn’t make much of a difference to her where they did it. If it was inside, fine. If it was right here, that was even better. She just wanted the sweet pussies of her housemates.

“Well you can certainly stay in the pool if you want,” Sarah replied. “But I’ll be upstairs in my room stretched out on the sheets only wearing my smile if anyone wants to join me.”

Sarah then sauntered back into the house, making sure her audience got a good look at her swaying ass. Once inside, Sarah took an extra long time walking past the glass doors as she hooked her fingers into the straps of her dress and pulled them off her shoulders. The dress fell to the floor as Sarah walked out of it, letting them all see her body in its gloriously nude form.

When her thumbs have done their work on his arches and the rest of his feet, she pads up next to him and whisper in his ear, “Time to roll over.”

He sighs happily and obliges her. She starts at his feet again and begins to work up his legs, skipping the towel. Finally, she kneels across his chest and lays first one arm and then the other in her lap so that she can work the knots out of the muscles there.

She begins on his chest, but he stops her, “I find that my restraint is being tested. If you plan to continue, you should probably relocate yourself.”

She obligingly moves and finishes her task.

She lies down next to him on the bed and whispers in his ear, “My part of our bargain is complete.”

He chuckles and whispers back, “I am yours to command.”

She rolls her eyes at him, blushing, “Not really. But I’m willing to settle for your part of the bargain.”

He nods, “As you wish, my lady,” and moves off to dress himself.

He returns in the pants to his silks to find that she’s removed her robe. She lays there on her stomach, fully exposed on the bed and he sucks in a sharp breath, uncertain if he can complete his part of the bargain. He grits his teeth and takes up some of the warmed oil. He looks her over and decides to start with her feet since they don’t seem too dangerous to him. His thumbs are more powerful than hers and they make shorter work of coaxing all the tension from her muscles.

She sighs as he works up to her calves and then her thighs. In order to distract himself, he begins studying her tattoo and she quickly becomes an entrancing pattern instead of an enticing paladin. He moves upward slowly and before he realizes it, he’s at the base of her spine. Having enjoyed her work, he too takes his thumbs in small circles up the big muscles on either side of her spine. His hands fan out and encompass most of her back.

He hears her groan a bit so he asks, “Is that too hard?”

She chuckles, “Not all. It feels really good. Please, don’t stop now.”

He grins as he returns to his labors, working his way toward her neck and then finally up it. At this point he realizes that she’s so relaxed that she’s nearly asleep.

He leans forward and whispers in her ear, “Now it’s time for you to roll over. I think I can manage.”

She rolls over and he sucks in another sharp breath and exhales softly, “Ye gods!”

He moves back to her feet and starts working up her legs again, thinking that might be safer. He begins to study her tattoo again and this seems to help, even though his eyes have developed a purplish tinge. He grimaces as he realizes about mid-thigh that he’s in trouble. The tinge in his eyes darkens as he picks up one of her hands to start up her arm. He moans a bit as he works to keep his end of their bargain. She hears him and opens her eyes. He looks up and finds himself swimming in a smoky olive gaze.

She frowns slightly, “Valen, what’s wrong?”

He reaches to stroke her cheek and she kisses his hand. As she turns back to him, his mouth closes over hers in a ravenous, heated kiss. She feels his need and responds to it instinctively as her own begins to flare. He moans into their kiss as she threads her fingers through his hair. He shifts his position so that he’s next to her on the bed, still locked to her mouth. He pulls her to him as she twines her arms and legs around him. He rolls so that she’s underneath him and his weight is on his elbows. Finally, he releases her mouth as he trails heat and kisses down her neck.

Just as she starts to moan, there is a knock on the door, “Matron-mother, Patron-protector, a gift has arrived for you.”

Valen growls, “Can it wait?”

The voice on the other side of the door speaks hesitantly, “I don’t think so, patron-protector. As least I don’t think it should.”

He untwines himself from Morrighu and makes some adjustments to his rather minimal clothing. He cracks the door and looks out, “What is so important that you had to interrupt us?”

One of the males from the public house looks at him uncertainly. Only a very stupid man chooses to annoy an already aroused tiefling and Valen’s now lavender eyes plainly show his state of mind. He stammers, “This…this…this came…for you, patron-protector.”

He hands Valen an ornate box. Valen tosses him a gold piece for his trouble and slams the door shut.

He sighs heavily, “I suppose that we should see what this is.” He opens the box and inside is a note. He reads the note to Morrighu.

“May you have a long life and bring glory to your house, Patron-protector Valen.

This is a traditional drow gift for a Patron-protector and his Matron.

I send you this in recognition of your status as Patron-protector to Matron-mother Morrighu.

I have adapted the traditional saying to fit the two of you more closely.

May you both wear them in peace and prosperity.

Tebimar”

He looks under the note and nestled against some black velvet are two bracelets, each with an inscription. One is clearly sized for Valen and one for Morrighu’s more delicate wrist. Valen sits next to Morrighu on the bed, intrigued now by the bracelets.

He picks one up and reads in drow, “The best magic is love.”

He looks at Morrighu, who laughs, “I tried to tell you that Tebimar was only trying to be helpful. Now, he’s sent this here, unsealed, so that everyone would read it as it got passed along. It’s a formal recognition of your status by him. It seems that the two of you truly have made peace. Now I wish I hadn’t traded that scythe to Rizolvir. Perhaps I can get it back. It’s just the sort of thing he’d appreciate. If I can get it back, you should send it to him with a similar note.”

Valen sighs, “Go get dressed for bed. You have managed to sorely test my restraint and I’m not sure it will take much more. I find you far too enticing in your current state. Besides, it’s late and we leave early.”

She giggles as she pads off slowly, looking at Valen over her shoulder. When she returns, she wiggles into a comfortable position next to him.

He chuckles at her, “Be still and go to sleep. I will be here when you wake.”

~*~

The bard looks at him curiously, “If she disliked slavers so much, surely she did not relish dealing with mind flayers.”

Valen laughs, “Actually, she was rather hopeful about the whole thing.”

The bard looks surprised, “Hopeful? Really?”

Valen arches a brow at the bard, “She kept saying that she hoped that they would be unreasonable.”

The bard looks puzzled so Valen explains, “She wanted them to unreasonable so that she could slaughter them all. She had made a promise to the Seer to her best to negotiate with them. She always kept her promises. The only way that she could justify killing them and freeing their thralls was to have them make some unreasonable demand. She feared to give them the Shattered Mirror. She had sensed the taint in it and she found it quite disturbing. Then when the illithids asked her for it, she found that even more disturbing.”

Morrighu’s mind is spinning, trying to find a way to free the girl. If she knows she is no longer a thrall, the mind flayers will read her thoughts and kill her. Morrighu realizes that if she wants to help her, she’ll have to make her think she’s still a thrall. Morrighu’s eyes light as she comes up with an idea. It’s a slim chance, but slim is better than none at all. She looks at the girl grimly, “You have to deliver a message to one of my allies, thrall.”

The girl looks at her, suddenly suspicious, “Deliver a message? How do you know I won’t just run off? Wait… you’ve cast some kind of spell, binding me to you - haven’t you?”

Morrighu nods, “Indeed I have. If you do not deliver this message, you will die a terrible and painful death.”

The girl nods her head in grim acceptance, “I should have known. Give me your message and the directions to get there.”

Morrighu hastily scribbles out a note and directions to the Seer’s camp. The girl takes her message and leaves, not realizing this are the only way to get her safely out of the illithid city.

Morrighu sighs heavily, “One down – millions to go.”

Behind her, Valen chuckles softly, “You can tell her when we return to camp.”

She sighs, “Do you know how hard it is for a paladin to lie – even in a good cause? I’m just glad she believed me. Now, let’s go find this Elder Brain so we can leave this place. These things make my skin crawl.”

Morrighu begins to wander around the camp a bit until she comes across a merchant. She hears Valen chuckle knowingly behind her and rolls her eyes a bit as she approaches the first merchant. When she asks to see his stock, she is informed rather rudely that he will not trade with one of the thrall races.

She sighs and proceeds to the next, who responds in much the same manner.

She approaches the third more cautiously. Unlike the other illithid here, this mind flayer makes no effort to probe her mind as she approaches. Morrighu grimaces slightly, unsure if this is a good or bad sign.

He greets her, “Welcome, surfacer. Unlike some of my fellow possessors, I am willing to do business with those of the thrall races.”

Morrighu looks at him curiously, “Who are you?”

A thready sigh echoes in her head, “I am a shopkeeper; a simple merchant, like all the other possessors who come here to the market. But unlike them, I am willing to trade with you.”

She frowns, “Why will you trade with me when the others won’t?”

The merchant replies, “The Elder Brain has opened Zorvak’Mur to other races for the thrall trade. Despite this, the other possessors cannot overcome their contempt and loathing for you inferior races. But I trust the wisdom of the Elder Brain, and I am willing to set aside my revulsion to do business with you… just as those who buy and sell the thralls have.”

Morrighu nods, “Speaking of the Elder Brain, do you know how I might find it.”

The mind flayer’s tentacles twitch slightly, as if he is nervous. “Opening Zorvak’Mur is one thing, but I do not know if the Elder Brain will speak to one of the thrall race. If you truly want an audience with the Elder Brain, you will have to speak to those who guard the entrance to the great chamber. You can find them in the southeast of the city.”

Morrighu nods, “I appreciate the information. Let me see what you have for sale.”

She picks through his inventory and, for the sake of maintaining appearances, buys a pair of boots. She thanks the merchant and moves off in the direction that he indicated.

She spots the illithid who appears to be guarding a portal and approaches him, “I wish to speak to the Elder Brain.”

He looks at her with disdain, “This is the entrance to the Elder Concord, the sanctum of the Elder Brain. You are not allowed here, surfacer. Go back to the center of town with the others of the thrall races.”

Morrighu squares her shoulders, “Perhaps I did not make myself clear. I wish to speak to the Elder Brain now.”

She can feel the illithid trying to probe her thoughts to gain some sense of her intentions. Of course, her helm protects her.

The illithid looks her strangely, “None of the thrall race can speak with the Elder Brain. Tell me your business, and I can relay your message for you.”

She laughs, “I doubt that the Elder Brain would make you privy to its entire doings. Does your master know that you are so…inquisitive about his affairs? Tell him…tell him I am here about the Valsharess.”

The illithid goes into a brief mental trance, and she realizes it is communicating telepathically with another entity. It gives a surprised start, and the communication abruptly ends. The surprised illithid speaks, “The Elder Brain says you are to be given access to the Elder Concord. But you cannot enter while you wear the helm that shields your thoughts.”

Morrighu laughs, “I am not here to become a thrall. The helm stays on.”

The illithid holds out his hands in a placating gesture, “You will not be harmed. The Elder Brain wishes to speak with you.”

Morrighu looks at him suspiciously and then looks at Valen, who shrugs.

She removes the helm and hands it to the illithid, “Very well, but if I find this is some kind of a trick, I will find a way to kill every last one of you.”

The illithid blanches, “Move to the central pad. It will transport you to the sanctum of the Elder Brain.”

She steps on to the pad, with Valen and Nathyrra and they instantly find themselves facing the Elder Brain. Morrighu grimaces in disgust at the sight of the gigantic brain twitching in a pool of pink goo. She staggers as she senses a strange alien presence in her head. The memories and knowledge of a thousand minds floods her thoughts, nearly overwhelming her. Valen reaches forward to support her and glowers at the Elder Brain. Morrighu straightens as the pressure of the alien presence eases.

She holds up a restraining hand to Valen, “It’s trying to find a better way to communicate, a way to focus its multiple consciousnesses to deal with a single entity. I think that this is not easy for either of us.”

The Elder Brain answers her, its words echoing as if spoken by many voices across an endless void, “You are correct. It is not often we deal directly with one of your kind. You have been given access to the inner sanctum - a rare privilege for a thrall. We can see many of your thoughts, thrall. We see you are an enemy of the Valsharess, and you know the Illithid are her allies. Is that why you have come to see the Overmind of Zorvak’Mur?”

Morrighu’s eyes narrow and her jaw sets, “Firstly I am not a thrall and yes, this is why I have come here. We want you to withdraw your support of the Valsharess.”

The Elder Brain’s voice echoes inside her head again, “Zorvak’Mur is only a small part of a larger whole. Throughout the Underdark, the Overminds of many Illithid pods have pledged allegiance to the Valsharess. We Overminds now act as one Elder Concorde. Only a consensus of all the Overminds linked through the Elder Concorde can end our alliance with the Valsharess.”

Morrighu nods, “If that is the case, then how can I convince the Elder Concorde to abandon this unfavorable alliance with the Valsharess?”

Something like laughter comes from the Elder Brain, “A thrall would never be able to convince the Elder Concorde to do anything. We of the Zorvak’Mur Overmind could sway the Concorde to abandon the Valsharess. The Illithid detest the drow; they are fit only to serve as thralls. Yet we have been forced to follow the Valsharess and her army of dark elves despite our hatred of them. We Illithid only follow the Valsharess because many of our pods are not strong enough to stand against her. If you gave us the power to oppose her, we could withdraw our support.”

Morrighu sighs, “Each time the Valsharess has come against me, she has lost. I will protect your pods.”

Once again, Morrighu thinks that the Elder Brain is laughing, “You are, but one and her army is quite large. You cannot defend all of the pods. They are too widely scattered. We know of another way, though. We once captured a thrall from a strange village here in the Underdark. The village is made up of winged elves from the surface… though they now live below the earth. From the thrall’s mind we learned of a powerful artifact - a magic mirror that the winged elves used to spy on their enemies. Such an artifact would give us the power to stand against the Valsharess. We will strike a bargain with you. If you deliver the mirror, we of the Zorvak’Mur Overmind will convince the Elder Concorde to abandon the Valsharess.”

Morrighu nods, “I have the artifact you seek. However, this is beyond the scope of my authority as a negotiator. I must return to the Seer and speak with her before I can give you such an item.”

Morrighu reaches in her pack and pulls out the relic. She grins at Valen as she uses the relic to place a binding in the Elder Brain’s private chamber. Valen looks at her curiously but she only grins. She bows to the Elder Brain, “We will be back shortly, once I have spoken to the Seer.”

Morrighu uses the relic to teleport back to the Gatehouse. She waves a hurried greeting at the Reaper as she heads for the doorway that will lead her back to the temple. Valen and Nathyrra rush to keep her pace. The trio materializes in central hall of the temple and Imloth sees them arrive.

Morrighu rushes toward him, “I must speak to the Seer immediately.”

Imloth pulls a bell cord and an acolyte quickly appears, motioning for them to follow.

Soon, Morrighu is before the Seer, “Seer, the Elder Brain wants the tainted mirror that I brought you. I have to tell you that I do not care for the idea of making the illithid more powerful. I am very uncomfortable with giving such tainted creatures such an artifact. I fear what they will do with it.”

The Seer nods, “I agree. Is there no other artifact that we can offer them?”

Morrighu shakes her head, “There is not. I have even offered to guard their damned pods, but they will not have it. They have said that it is the mirror or nothing. Personally, I would rather meet them in combat than give them the Shattered Mirror.”

The Seer considers for a long time, “My goddess has said that I must put my trust in you. You have done well for us so far. Do as you think is best.”

Morrighu squares her shoulders and nods before looking at Valen, “Prepare yourself. We return to deliver an unequivocal answer to the Elder Concorde. If they will not abandon the Valsharess on some reasonable terms, I will make it my business to hunt them and free their thralls for as long as I am in the Underdark.”

Valen grimaces, “I think I am aware of the answer you plan to deliver. Is there not some way I can dissuade you?”

Morrighu shakes her head, “You heard them. They will not negotiate with us on any terms other than the Shattered Mirror. I am unwilling to give them the artifact and they are unwilling to yield without it. Since they have chosen to remain loyal to the Valsharess, I will teach the other members of the Elder Concorde that this is most unwise. I am able to withstand the Valsharess. I have offered them, may my goddess forgive me, my protection from her which they have refused. Would you have me give the illithid’s Elder Concorde the ability to foretell? Would you have me give the Elder Concorde the ability to spy and scry on almost anyone? The answer is no and that is not negotiable.”

Having finished her thoughts on the subject, Morrighu knees and begins to pray to her goddess. When she rises, the trio is surrounded by a gentle yellow nimbus and her eyes glow with the same deadly power. Morrighu activates the relic and they teleport back to the gatehouse. Valen watches as Morrighu checks the doors until she finds the right one, which will take them back to the Elder Brain. She opens the door and leads them through it.

No sooner than they arrive in front the Elder Brain, it addresses her, “Once again you have returned to the inner sanctum. As before, we of the Zorvak’Mur Overmind see many of your thoughts… but not all. Have you come to deliver the mirror?”

Morrighu laughs as she launches herself at the Elder Brain. Suddenly, she finds herself standing in a grove of trees. Sunlight streams down, a nearby brook babbles, and a gentle breeze wafts past her.

A charming young man stares at her, concern clearly written on his face, “Thank goodness you’ve woken up, - you were having a terrible dream. I was so worried about you.”

Morrighu seems to recall that she should be attacking something so she looks at him suspiciously, “What’s going on here? Who are you?”

He smiles at her lovingly, “It’s going to be all right, my love. Just calm down. Come with me and forget all about those horrible dreams. Come with me and we can be happy forever.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, “This isn’t real. You are not my Valen.”

The young man looks at her sadly, “A pity you would not stay with us here. But if you insist on doing this the hard way, we will accommodate you.”

With that the young man disappears with a small thunder clap and is replaced by a balor lord, an umber hulk, and a beholder. Morrighu quickly cleaves the beholder and it falls, twitching to the ground. She turns her attention to the umber hulk, darting in quickly to skewer it from the side. As it starts to fall, she turns toward the balor lord. The balor has summoned a zombie, so Morrighu quickly casts a turn undead and yellow fire consumes the zombie.

She mumbles another prayer and closes quickly on the balor. He casts a fireball at her, which she ignores as she attacks. The balor finds himself giving ground until his back is against a tree. He goes to step sideways to get around the tree, but his talons catch in the tree roots and he trips. Morrighu seizes the opportunity decapitates the balor. No sooner than the balor dies, she finds herself standing before the brain pool again.

A flood of images fills her mind: scenes of surrender and supplication, feelings of fear, terror, and weakness. The images begin to shift, and she feels the same strange alien presence in her mind, its words echoing as if spoken by many voices across an endless void: “Lay aside your weapon. We surrender before you and beg for mercy. You are too strong for us. The Overmind of Zorvak’Mur cannot stand against you, thrall. Yet even if you destroy us, it will accomplish nothing. The other illithid will still follow the Valsharess.”

Morrighu looks at him, “The important thing is this. Will you continue to follow the Valsharess? Or do you intend to surrender to me on behalf of the Elder Concorde?”

The Elder Brain speaks again, “The Elder Concorde has bound our fates to the Valsharess. As part of the Elder Concorde, we must do what is required.”

Morrighu looks at him suspiciously, “So if I let you live, you will continue, as part of the Elder Concorde, to aid the Valsharess.”

The Elder Brain does not reply but only sends her images begging for mercy.

She shakes her head, “That won’t do. While is it my policy to grant clemency to those to surrender to me, I do not grant clemency to those who have plainly told me that they will continue attacking. I have offered to protect you from the Valsharess, as much as this goes against my better judgment. You have two choices, abandon the Valsharess, or die.”

The Elder Brain speaks again, “We are one with the Elder Concorde. We cannot separate ourselves from them.”

Morrighu shakes her head, “So is it. You have spoken your death sentence.”

She attacks the Elder Brain and after a few strokes of her blades, it stops twitching. Outside the door to the Elder Brain’s chamber, there is a loud commotion. Several people are clearly hammering on the door and demanding entrance.

She wades back out of the pool of goo that surrounded the Elder Brain and nods at Valen, “Open the door and let them in. They can die here with the thing that they have served.”

Valen looks at her askance, but she has set herself to meet their charge. Valen throws open the door and Morrighu meets their onslaught. The illithids in front fall quickly, but thralls begin to pour through the door. Valen leaps into the fray beside her, but most of the thralls are unarmed so they only get mowed down.

Finally, they stop streaming through the door so Morrighu looks at Valen, “You are so eager to carve a path of blood, let us carve a path out of this place.”

Valen growls at her, “I would have preferred not to have to scour the place by combat for the sake of your safety.”

She grabs the neck of his armor and pulls him to face her, “If I wanted to be safe, I would stay home by my fire and knit. I did not become a paladin because I wished to be safe. I became a paladin because I wanted to do good.”

Morrighu whips her helm out of her pack and yanks it back on before she charges out the door.

Valen heaves a sigh and follows after her, “You might at least wait a moment for me.”

He scrambles to keep up with her and finds her in the center of another knot of mostly unarmed thralls.

She shouts to him, “Start smashing the controls. Perhaps if you can destroy enough of the controls, I think it might free the thralls.”

Valen nods and begins to tear into them with his flail. Once Morrighu’s gotten free of the thralls, she joins him in his task.

When they’ve smashed all the control mechanisms they can find, she looks up at, “We must find the door. If we must, I will use the relic, since the binding will let us come back here. However, I’d like to see if we cannot free at least a few of them.”

Valen nods, “I know, slavery is evil and illithids are the ultimate slavers.”

She sighs, “I do not even know if we can free them. I fear that they have been…edited too much.”

She looks at him with a practiced eye, “You do not seem to be injured. Are you ready to proceed?”

He nods so she spins off to the right. The hallway seems to open out into a larger space. In one corner is a pod-like device with a pulsating shield around it. She runs toward it and tries to smash it but only gets a nasty zap for her trouble. She pulls a face and moves on to the next control panel. To her surprise, it turns out to be an illithid which she quickly runs through.

Valen chuckles as she goes around the room, prodding everything with a sword tip to see if it is real or not.

She gives him a dark look, “I don’t want to miss one.”

He grins at her, “I know, that’s why I’m laughing.”

He moves behind her, quickly destroying all of the control panels and devices.

Nathyrra comes skidding around the corner and shouts to them, “There’s a big group of them chasing me.”

She quickly scrambles to a place behind Valen who grins as he reminds her, “I told you not to tease me. Let me see what this is. If it only looks painful instead of lethal, you may well pay for your earlier remarks.”

About that time a large group of thralls and illithids streams through the door seeking Nathyrra.

Morrighu braces herself to meet their charge as she shouts to Valen, “Get the illithids first. The thralls will become more aimless without someone to control them.”

The few illithids are quickly cut down and the trio turns their attention to the thralls. Morrighu tries to herd them back to the private chamber of the Elder Brain, but the thralls only throw themselves at her mindlessly.

She grimaces as she is forced to cut them down or be drug down by them. Valen stays at her side to help her in the unpleasant task. When the last one falls, he puts a consoling arm around her shoulders, knowing that she is hurt by what she has just had to do.

Her head hangs for a moment before she nods and turns to Nathyrra, “Where did you go?”

Nathyrra laughs, “I thought that when you went out the doorway that you went to the left, so I went left. I ran into all of them and at first, I thought you were ahead of me. Then I realized that I had gone the wrong way and that you were far behind me. I didn’t know if I should keep going to get back to you or if I should hide, let them pass me, and then run back to you.”

Nathyrra elbows Valen playfully, “Painful instead of lethal, eh? I’ll remember that next time you need help.”

Valen chuckles but Morrighu gestures for them to keep moving, “I’d like to find the way out, if you two are done chatting.”

Valen nods and takes his place at her right as they continue further to the right. As soon as the corridor turns a corner they are confronted by a door.

Morrighu looks at it carefully, watching as numbers swirl across the surface of the door, and then rolls her eyes, “I hate math.”

Valen looks at her surprised, “Really? I had not pegged you as uneducated.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not uneducated. I can read, write, and speak several languages. You have watched me learn drow. I am well used to the ordering and management of large armies. I can quote whole passages, in their native language, of most of the major poets. I don’t sing well, but I do play several musical instruments with a passable level of skill. I am competent in all the household arts and well able to manage a large household. I am versed in military history, weaponry, strategy, and tactics. I am versed in diplomacy and economics as well – no one prays for peace more than the ones about to go into battle. On my home world, I can name every country, tell you where their capital is, what kind of government they have, who the real power is, as well as what their five major exports and imports are. I am still learning these things about Toril. I simply find math to be difficult. My people have a device, called an abacus, and having mastered that, I find it is the only way I can manage accounts and to tally sums. Anything more complex than that is beyond me, I’m afraid. Nathyrra, would you care to try to see if you can solve this?”

While Nathyrra tries to work the door, Valen looks at her, “I learned figures at an early age. You seem to learn drow well enough from me. If you like, I mean if you wanted to try, I’d be happy to try to teach you what I know. Just think of it as another language.”

She nods her smile apparent in her voice, “I can see where knowing such things would be useful. When all of this is over, there will time enough for a great many things. My goddess has promised me a long rest. I suppose that will be one of the things we take care of then.”

Nathyrra tries to work the puzzle and finally succeeds and the door swings open. Morrighu darts through the door and down the hallway looking for more of the control panels to smash. Valen runs after her, trying to keep up as she keeps probing everything with a sword tip to see if it’s real or an illusion. If it turns out not to be an illusion, she and Valen smash it. If it turns out to be an illusion, then they kill it. Slowly, they work their way down the passageway, around each corner until they come to the pad to take them back up.

She looks at Valen, “Would it seem logical to you that the thrall pens would be as close to the auction block as possible? I know that in other places where I have seen such that this is normally the case, but I do not know if illithids will hold with the same kind of logic.”

Valen nods, “I think that they would. It would be easier to bring them back and forth for sale.”

She nods, “Good, perhaps there are some that are not yet…edited. I hope to find at least a few that we can save, but I fear that we will have to clear them a path back the entrance.”

Valen considers, “How do you plan to do such a thing?”

She sighs, “As quickly as possible. The good news is that any of these thralls will likely know how to fight. It seems that the illithid edit their thralls until there is nothing but blood lust left. Then let them fight to death so that they can gamble on the outcome. This means that they place a premium on those that know how to fight before the come here.”

She moves quickly down the corridor, “Before we leave, I’d like to see if we can’t smash all of these control panels.”

She moves quickly back to the open door and makes her way around the inner ring of the Elder Brain’s compound. Everything, each crate, chest, control panel, gets probed with a sword tip. Most things just get smashed. A few turn out to be illusions hiding more illithids. Without their thralls to guard them, they don’t last long. Scurrying about in some of the corners are a few intellect devourers, but these don’t last long either.

A few swings of Valen’s flail generally dispatch them, leaving Morrighu free to test for more illusions. Nathyrra scurries along with them and keeps casting spells to protect their minds. When she’s done with the inner ring, she goes back out the open door and begins working her way around the inner ring. After Valen finishes smashing a control panel, he sees Morrighu stop and cock her head, listening. He starts to speak, but she holds up a hand, indicating that she needs silence.

After a moment, she turns to him, “Do you hear that? Or more precisely do you not hear that any more?”

Valen frowns, “I’m not sure what you mean, my lady.”

She turns and runs back the direction that they’ve come from, while Valen stares after her for a moment, dumbfounded. Quickly realizing that he’s being left behind, he sprints to catch her. He finds her in the inner ring, standing before the pod-like device she tried to smash earlier.

As he approaches, she turns to him, “Good! See if you can smash that thing. When you smashed that last control panel, I heard the shield around this die. I tried with my blades, but they don’t do enough damage.”

Valen nods, takes a tighter grip on his flail, and leans into the swing. The pod dents but continues to operate. He growls in frustration and swings again. The pod’s dent grows but it is still obviously operational. His eyes flash red, he snarls, and swings. This time the pod shatters and the shards go flying. All of a sudden, they’re able to hear the sounds of a fierce battle coming from above.

Morrighu snickers, “I’m not exactly sure what that did, but it doesn’t sound like anything the illithids are enjoying. Let’s see what we can do about getting out of here.”

She jogs back to where they left Nathyrra, near the access pad. The sounds of battle are already dying out so Morrighu leaps on to the pad, leaving Valen and Nathyrra to follow her. Once the trio is on the pad, they quickly find themselves back in Zorvak’Mur. The scene before them is total chaos. All of the thralls seem to be randomly attacking anything that crosses their path, including slavers, illithids, and each other.

Morrighu looks at Nathyrra “Stay close. I want to see if we can make it to the thrall pens. If there are any that have not yet been…altered, we’ll take them with us.”

Morrighu leads them back to the central part of the city, near the merchant stalls. The scene is one of utter devastation. The merchants are dead, their bodies – what’s left of them - scattered around the compound from what appears to have been a swift and brutal attack. The merchant stalls are on fire. She looks to her left and sees a couple of thralls eating what’s left of the illithid pit boss.

She shudders, “I can’t say he didn’t deserve it, though.”

They run toward the auction block and find that the thralls there are occupied with devouring the auctioneer. Morrighu makes a face but keeps moving toward an outbuilding.

As soon as she enters the building, she’s confronted by a duergar with a mad gleam in his eyes, “You aren’t allowed in here. No one but the Preparers can see the thralls who are marked for the pits.”

Morrighu looks at him carefully, “Who are you? What is this place?”

He gives her a disturbing grin, “These are the holding pens, and I’m the warden in charge. Thralls marked for the pit are held here until the Preparers come for them. I watch over the thralls until the Preparers come.”

Morrighu sizes him up carefully, “You’re not a thrall. Why do you serve the illithid?”

The duergar laughs, “Well, first off I never have to worry about them tentacles getting inside my skull… seems my brain’s a bit diseased. The illithid don’t want any part of it. Second off, the illithid don’t mind if I borrow a thrall here and there, for my own purposes. The thralls don’t seem to mind, either. At least, they never complain. Maybe because their brains are mush. Finally, the Preparers let me watch when they go to work on a new thrall. Most folk get a bit squeamish when those tentacles burrow into the skull, but I like to sit back and enjoy the show.”

The tiefling places a hand on the hilt of his weapon. “You are a vile and disgusting creature!”

Nathyrra snorts in disgust, “And people think we drow are ruthless.”

Morrighu’s eyes narrow, “You are more of a monster than the illithids.”

The duergar gets a sadistic twinkle in his eye. “You are naive. The Preparers are among the most privileged of the illithid. Before a thrall can be sent to the pits, the Preparers have to modify them. The thralls’ minds are torn down; their very identity is stripped away until all that remains is a primitive animal. It makes for more interesting combat in the pits.”

Morrighu sneers at him, “Have you any here you have not yet been “modified”?”

He laughs, “We do at that. Why are you so interested? Would you care to watch?”

Morrighu shakes her head, “No, I do believe that I’ve heard enough from you. Surrender to me or die.”

The warden looks at her in disbelief, “Ah, a feisty one. The Preparers are going to have fun with you.”

Morrighu laughs, “I think not. I suspect that they are already dead and you are about to join them.”

Before the warden can prepare the spell, she brings her blade around in a full-power, two handed swing and decapitates him cleanly.

She dodges out of the way of the blood spray and looks at Valen, “Now you see why I really hate slavers.”

She pokes her head into one room, but it is only full of animals. She quickly closes that door and heads to the next.

She peeks in and a drow thrall steps up to greet her, his head held high. “Where is the warden? Who are you?”

Morrighu grins, “The warden is dead. I killed him myself.”

A gleam of wild hope appears in his eye. “Dead? I am Argosus, leader of these thralls. Are you here to set us free, or do you also serve the illithids?”

She grins at him, “I have no great love for slavers. I’m here to free you and take you to a safe place.”

The drow smiles and reaches out to clasp her arm. “Thank you, my friend. I have never thought much of surfacers, but I see I was wrong.” He turns to the other thralls, “We have to strike now, while we have the advantage of surprise. It is our only chance for freedom.”

Morrighu holds up a restraining hand, “There are a few things that you should be aware of. The Elder Brain is dead. The control mechanism that has kept most of the thralls…restrained is no more. They are attacking anything that gets in their path. Our best bet is to move swiftly to the stair case, up it and out of this place. If we stay together and move fast enough, I think we can leave this place safely. I also have several things in my backpack that you and your friends may be able to use – both weapons and armor.”

She throws open her pack and starts pulling things out, “If any of you can use anything here, take it and use it. You may well need it to get out of this place. The modified thralls are loose and they are attacking anything that moves.”

Eager hands pick up most of what she’s laid out for them to use and there is some shifting of gear amongst the slaves.

She looks at them, “We’re going to go outside, run to the stairway and go up it. Stay behind Valen, since he will lead you to safety. Nathyrra and I will work the flanks and act as rear guard while we’re on the stair case. It’s important that we stay together and move quickly.”

Argosus and the others nod at her. She motions to Valen and he begins the trek up and out. A few of the thralls try to attack them, but they are disorganized. The attacks are over quickly, repulsed either by the trio or by the freed slaves themselves. Once they reach the stair case, they pelt up it and the scene there is the much the same as it was below. There are a few thralls left alive and they are too busy squabbling over what’s left of one of the illithids to take much notice of the swiftly moving party heading for the exit.

Once they’re back in the main cavern, they call a halt.

Morrighu looks at Argosus, “There is a large drow army coming very soon. You can either take your chances or come back to Lith My’athar with us. We feel certain that we can hold the city against the army. I do not think you will be able to get around them unnoticed, but if you are willing to wait until we are able to break the siege of the city, you will be able to go home safely.”

Argosus looks at her suspiciously, “Have we traded one master for another?”

She shakes her head while Valen attempts to maintain a straight face, “I told you that I hate slavers and I meant it. You are free to do as you wish. I will not force you, but I feel that it is my duty to try to persuade you to do what I know is in your best interest.”

Argosus considers this for a moment before meeting her gaze, “We will do as you ask.”

She grins at Valen, “Lead us back to the city.”

~*~

Valen laughs, “She said that the drow did not understand what it was to be a paladin. She was right. They understood law, playing by the rules, but they never quite got the good part. To them the rules were made to be broken. The drow have their sayings. Things like, ‘Trust no one more than yourself.’, ‘Torture and pain are fun.’, and ‘The best knife is the unseen one.’ They never understood what it was to give your word and then keep it. It was the only way she knew how to be. The few who came to know her well appreciated her.”

The bard looks thoughtful, “I’m not sure I understand what it means to be a paladin.”

Valen sighs, “Everything must be according to the rules – no bending them, no going around them, no convenient excuses. Anything else is an affront to her goddess. Not many people can do that. She used to say that the real measure of a person is what they do when no one else is looking. When no one’s looking, you don’t worry about being caught or what other people might think. The only thing that comes out then is you.”

Imloth nods at them grimly, “Quickly, to the docks! We will protect the Seer.”

Morrighu, sides still heaving from her sprint from the gates, bows to Imloth and the Seer before running as quickly as she can toward the docks. Valen grimaces to see her pushing herself so brutally. Some of the swordsmen have come from the gate and these follow her. She runs past the warehouse only to be confronted by an elite group of drow warriors and a wizard. Nathyrra, huffing and puffing, finally catches up to them.

Morrighu looks at her “See what you can do about keeping that wizard occupied for a bit.”

Morrighu wades into a group of archers, and with Valen to guard her back, the pair quickly dispatches them. She turns her attention to the swordsmen and mows down a couple of them to get to the wizard. Nathyrra has been keeping him occupied casting defensive spells, instead of summoning more troops. Morrighu sets her jaw before charging him. He sees her coming and underestimates the threat she represents.

He casts at Nathyrra instead, but before he can finish the spell, he has no hands. Morrighu skewers him as Valen’s flail crashes into a drow who unwisely decided that her seemingly unguarded back made a tempting target. Nathyrra casts ice shards and this does for the remaining drow. Morrighu, with her hand pressed to her side, reaches for Valen. He supports her as they walk slowly back to the Seer.

Imloth looks at them as they approach and notes Valen’s concern for the paladin. Valen reaches into his pack and fishes out a healing potion, which he hands to Morrighu.

She pulls a face, “It’s just a stitch in my side from all the running.”

He gives her a warning look so she sighs and downs the potion. Imloth grins to himself thinking that some things never seem to change.

The Seer turns to her, “I believe the siege of Lith My’athar is over. The main army of the Valsharess has retreated. You have driven them back, and the Valsharess is on the run!”

Morrighu grins, “I could never have done this without the help of many others.”

The Seer bows to her, “Your modesty is matched only by your courage and skill in battle. But even with all you have done, your task is not yet complete. The enemy drow have pulled out of Lith My’athar. They may be planning a… wait, do you hear that? No… It cannot be!”

Morrighu rolls her eyes, “Those damnable illithids. They’ve sent Umber Hulks to tunnel in.”

Morrighu lets go of Valen’s arm and unslings her blades, already moving toward the source of the sound. Valen, sensing what she’s about, moves after her.

She shouts to him, “Take the hulks. The illithids are mine.”

She dodges the attacks of the umber hulks and without even breaking stride, cuts down the first of three illithids. As she skids to a stop to turn on the other two, they begin to panic, calling their thralls back to defend them. The thralls have their hands full with Valen, Nathyrra and few of the swordsmen so they aren’t of much help.

Morrighu strides up to the first one, “Tell the Elder Concorde this, – you will fall before me. Now die, you tentacle faced freak!”

Her blades cut through his thin body and she walks calmly through the spray of blood and gore, closing on the last of the illithids. He turns to run but she skewers him from behind.

Valen pelts up to her, “Are you alright, my lady? You are covered in blood.”

She looks up at him, “There is no need for alarm. It is not mine.”

They return to the Seer, who smiles at Morrighu, “Yet again you have proven yourself, and once more you have shown the vision of Eilistraee to be true. None of the Valsharess’ forces can stand against you. We must press our advantage before the enemy has time to recover from this defeat. You must lead our forces against the stronghold of the Valsharess and end her evil once and for all! Even the House Maeviir guards will follow you.”

Morrighu nods, “As you wish, Seer. We will hound them to their very walls.”

She looks at Imloth, “Bring up the siege engines. We will need the trebuchets and the battering ram. Form up the troops.”

In short order, they stand outside the Valsharess’ fortress. The Seer turns to Morrighu, “The siege engines are coming. They move slowly and have not been able to keep pace with the rest of the forces. The battle goes well, my friend. With your help, we have been victorious thus far. It is not over yet, however. We must find a way to storm it if we are to end her tyranny once and for all!”

Morrighu nods, “We will hale her out of there, Seer. This is not my first siege, by any means.”

No sooner than she has spoken, she shimmers like a heat image and is gone.

The Seer screams in frustration, “No! This cannot be!”

Valen drops to his knees, pole axed, mouth open in shock and dismay. He recovers quickly and assumes command. He begins preparing the siege engines so that he can retrieve Morrighu.

He looks at Nathyrra and whispers heartbroken, “I never told her and now she’s gone.”

Nathyrra puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “We’ll get her back. Don’t worry.”

Inside the fortress, the scene is somewhat different.

A jubilant Valsharess greets the paladin, “So we meet again, foolish one. This time in the flesh.”

Morrighu looks at her calmly and yawns, as if she is bored, “The rebels are winning, drow. Your time is done.”

The Valsharess laughs, “Oh? I suppose it might seem that way, to you. Before I unleash Mephistopheles upon those pitiful rebels I wanted to deal with you, first… my guest and my prisoner.”

Morrighu snorts derisively, “You realize, of course, that bringing me within your fortress is…unwise, to say the least. Out with it, then. What do you want from me?”

The Valsharess arches a brow at her, “”What do I want? Ha-ha ha ha! I want you within my power. I want to make you suffer before Mephistopheles destroys the rebels. I want to see the Seer weep as she is the last to be crushed! And you are indeed within my power, surfacer. If you do not believe me, then come… approach me if you dare.”

Morrighu grins at her, “I know a force wall when I see one. Why don’t you come here instead?”

The drow shakes her head, “Ha-ha ha ha! Do you see? The arch devil Mephistopheles has caged you with his power… a power that is mine to command, for I have caged him. He is my hound on a leash, and with him I shall become a goddess!”

Morrighu shrugs, “Won’t be the first one that I’ve killed.”

Valen has begun arranging the siege engines so that they can batter the outer gate. Imloth watches as he takes one of the trebuchets, and in a fit of frustration, shoves it into the correct position. His eyes flash red as he rounds on the crew manning the siege engine. Imloth leaps between Valen and the crew.

He looks at Imloth startled, “I failed her once. I will not fail her again.”

Imloth nods, “We will help you. They’re doing their best, Valen. We will get her back.”

Valen shakes his head, “I thought the same thing, at the temple, when she let them take her. They hurt her so, Imloth. They hurt her because I was too slow. I will not be too slow again.”

The Seer takes a turn at trying to comfort him, “Had they meant to kill her, they would not have taken her from us.”

Valen rounds on her with an angry snarl and then stomps off. He joins the crew of the battering ram and as they begin moving it into position to bash the gate open.

Imloth starts to go to him and say something, but Tebimar stops him, “Leave him be. Were she mine, I’d be in just as big a frenzy to get her back. The Valsharess did not invite her in for tea that much is sure.”

Imloth swallows heavily and nods in silent agreement.

~*~

The Valsharess turns to the arch-devil, “Mephistopheles! I command you to show this fool surfacer what true pain is! Bring the wretched creature a slow and agonizing death… I wish to watch, and enjoy.”

The arch-devil throws his head back and laughs, “I shall not do as you desire, great Valsharess. Instead… instead I shall slay your precious Red Sisters.”

With a wave of his hand, the Red Sisters begin to catch fire, screaming horribly.

Morrighu watches with great interest, “Hmmm…seems your hound on a leash needs some obedience training. I’d hate to see what you call disobedient.”

The Valsharess turns and runs toward the devil, “Wh… What! What… what are you doing! I command you to stop at once! How dare you oppose my will! You are mine to command! I have bound you, you cannot disobey!”

Morrighu, standing inside her circle, snickers, “I’d say he’s doing a pretty good job of it so far.”

Mephistopheles sneers at the Valsharess, “Fool of a drow! You tamper with powers you do not understand. Now face the consequences of your actions!”

He makes a negligent wave of his hand at Morrighu and the force wall dissipates.

Morrighu looks at the Valsharess calmly, “I’d rather we join forces and defeat this overweening devil. We can fall to squabbling amongst ourselves after we have driven him back into the Void.”

The drow only screams in rage and strikes at Morrighu with her whip.

~*~

Valen begins the assault on the fortress. The engines fling their rocks, battering the outer defenses. Unfortunately, they are well-built and the defenders are well trained. A hail of arrows answers each swing of the trebuchets. Valen however, has focused all of the trebuchets on what appears to be, to his practiced eye, a weak point in the outer wall. It is corner where some of the brickwork seems to be sagging due to the efforts of an earlier besieging force.

With all of the siege engines pounding away on the same spot, chunks of brickwork and stone begin to come loose. He forms up the arches and has them fire back at the defenders. He carefully keeps the other troops out of range, holding them until they can be of use. He leaves instructions with Tebimar and Imloth, snatches up a shield, and runs back to the crew operating the battering ram. His eyes flash red as he leans into the push-pull rhythm of the ram. The gate shakes and groans but continues to hold.

He growls in frustration and shouts at them, “She’s in there. Hurry!”

~*~

Morrighu allows the whip to trap one of her blades, which she uses to pull the whip taunt. She brings the other one around and severs the whip. She laughs at the drow as she shakes the biggest portion of the whip loose to fall uselessly to the floor.

She chuckles sarcastically, “Now what is your great plan, O mighty Valsharess? Any other brilliant ideas?”

The Valsharess screams again, in frustration and begins a summoning spell. Morrighu rolls her eyes, “What could possibly be worse than the devil you’ve already summoned? Do you learn nothing? We must join our forces, not fight each other.”

The Valsharess looks at her as if she’s lost her mind, “I will defeat all of you!”

Morrighu looks at Mephistopheles, “How can you work for such an idiot?”

Mephistopheles shrugs eloquently but remains silent as the women circle each other warily.

The Valsharess moves in and strikes at her but Morrighu side steps her as she tries to reason with her again, “Do you not have bards here? There are a thousand cautionary tales about dealings with devils. They are masters of deception. It is your magic, is it not, that binds him still? If I kill you, will that not free him?”

The Valsharess snarls at her, “I care not! I will prevail or die in the attempt.”

Morrighu shakes her head, “Then you shall die. You are no match for me.”

The Valsharess begins to cast another spell but it’s a fireball. Morrighu steps into it and through it, emerging unscathed to charge at the Valsharess. She swings in to make a couple of deep cuts, one on her arm and another on the Valsharess’ leg before she whirls away.

Valen is still pounding on the gates, but they’re well made and they continue to hold. He calls out to Nathyrra to try casting some spells to see if she cannot speed their progress. Nathyrra starts casting fireballs, but without Morrighu to empower her, she is soon out. She casts a few missiles but soon runs out of those as well. Valen growls in frustration and the color of his eyes continues to deepen.

Finally, in frustration, he orders the battering ram back. He runs to the trebuchets and has them refocus on the gate. While they cannot fire as often, their blows deliver considerably more damage. The gate is finally beginning to show some signs of breakage. He can hear some of the wood beginning to splinter and a few of the bolts that hold the thing together have begun to pop loose.

Tebimar approaches him cautiously, “When you go in to search for her, I will go with you. The two of us can move faster than the rest of the troops. We will find her.”

Valen nods in appreciation as he turns to watch the trebuchets. One of them is running low of things to fling, so Valen obligingly smashes a couple of the local stalagmites. He rolls the larger pieces over to the trebuchet crew, so that the can continue to load and fire.

The Valsharess has some kind of a shield spell around her and Morrighu takes some damage from that but counts having Valen stock her pack a blessing as she pulls out a healing potion. She downs it quickly and closes in on the drow again. She manages to make a couple of more cuts before she has to whirl aside, out of range. She downs another one as the Valsharess begin another spell. She darts in while the drow is still casting to cut at her and dart away.

The drow keeps turning, trying to face her so that she can aim her spell, but Morrighu keeps circling, waiting for an opening. The drow casts and this time it is frost. Morrighu runs through it as well on her way in to take another chunk out of the Valsharess.

Mephistopheles grows irritated and shouts, “Finish her!”

Morrighu leans in to make an extra cut and then ducks aside from her shield spell to down another healing potion. It’s obvious that the loss of blood is beginning to take its toll on the Valsharess. She starts on a complicated healing spell in an attempt to alleviate some of the damage, but Morrighu takes this as an opening. Morrighu grits her teeth, braces herself, and wades into the shield spell. She draws a swing with both blades and the Valsharess falls, still looking surprised, in three pieces.

With a huge roar, Mephistopheles frees himself of the last of the drow’s bindings and steps on the dais that the Valsharess addressed from, one hoof at a time. Morrighu notes idly that his hooves leaving smoking prints in the wood.

She thinks to herself, “This cannot be good.”

Mephistopheles addresses her, “And so she is dead. You have done well, mortal.”

Morrighu shrugs, “I don’t really see how. I’ve only traded one enemy for another. How is it that you are free? Were you not bound to do her bidding?”

He laughs, “Of course I was. But there are rules and even older rules that I must obey, all of which supersede the bindings the fool drow placed me under. Not that she knew of this. She may have summoned me, but to command me to slay one who is an extension of myself… that was beyond her power. A pity.”

Morrighu looks at him frowning, “I am no extension of you, evil thing.”

Mephistopheles shakes his head, “Oh, but you are, mortal. Ever since you found my relic within the Plane of Shadow, you have been bound to me as it has been bound to you. A most fortuitous event, in my eyes. The relic is a piece of my own flesh, meant for the leader of my priesthood on this plane… but obviously it was destined to be found by you, instead. Through it, I called you here, confident that your power could challenge even that of the Valsharess… and I was correct. I am always pleased when a gamble turns out well.”

Morrighu curses softly, “I knew that damned thing was going to be trouble. At least it’s the relic and not me. That answers a few questions. There only a few questions left.”

Mephistopheles looks at her, “I am feeling…indulgent at the moment. Ask what you will, mortal.”

Morrighu sizes him up, “You cannot have planned all of this.”

Mephistopheles grins at her, “Planned to get summoned and bound by an idiot, I believe you called her? No, indeed I did not. Think of your self as an unexpected resource I had at my disposal.”

Morrighu squares her shoulders, “You realize that I cannot let you go free.”

Mephistopheles grins at her, “Ah, but I am free. A great lord of the devils able to roam amongst the mortals and bring suffering to them as I wish, with not a one who possesses the power to stop me! I would begin with you, dear mortal, but since we are bound so closely that would not be prudent.”

Morrighu shakes her head, “You see, I really can’t let you do that,” and raises her blades to begin the battle.

Mephistopheles looks highly amused, “You think to battle me? My dear mortal, no… Did you not listen to a thing I said? We are bound, you and I. You could no more slay me than I could you. Instead I will send you someplace you may not interfere. And the relic… that I relieve you of now.”

Morrighu turns to run, but the binding spell catches her and drops her to her knees. The next spell that he casts isn’t one she can identify, but the pain is horrific. As her consciousness fades, she thinks idly, “Damn! I was destined to die a virgin after all. Poor Valen.”

~*~

Valen is outside the fortress, waiting for the gates to finally give way, when suddenly they explode outward. Mephistopheles strides out, leaving smoking hoof prints as proof of his passing.

Valen’s eyes grow large and he turns to Tebimar, “I must see if I can find her.”

He orders everyone to flee.

He turns to Imloth, “Take the Seer, go back to Lith My’athar. Have Cavallas get you and anyone else you can take out of here. I’m going in there. I hope I can raise her.”

In the chaos that the devil’s appearance has caused, he runs unnoticed into the fortress. He follows the hoof prints backward, to the throne room. He raises his head and sniffs. He can smell her perfume and mingled with it is the scent that the demon in has come to desire, her blood. He howls in frustration. He kneels next to her burnt outline in the elegant carpet of the throne room. He puts a finger in the rather large pool of blood and then into his mouth.

The demon in him surges, “Ah…that’s her.” He is nearly ready to weep. The pool is large, too large for her to have survived, and without access to her remains, he can’t resurrect her. He stands with his head down, staring at the burnt outline for a long drawn moment. He throws his head back and screams in anguish. Without her, there doesn’t seem to be much reason to live.

When his head comes down, his eyes are completely red and his face is locked in a snarl. He goes looking for the arch-devil.

Tebimar rounds a corner and sees Valen. He approaches him cautiously, “Did you find her?”

Valen tilts his head toward the throne room, “What’s left of her is in there. I’m going to kill an arch-devil or die trying. Get out of here. Protect the Seer.”

Tebimar looks into the throne room and sees that there isn’t enough to resurrect. He grimaces in sympathy and gives Valen’s shoulder a squeeze before disappears back the way he came. Valen tightens his grip on his flail and jogs off, following the hoof prints. Soon enough, he approaches the source of the hoof prints. As he gets closer, Mephistopheles begins casting a spell and unfortunately Valen’s in range. Caught in the blast of magic before he can even get close enough to engage his enemy, Valen falls.

His last thought – “My love, I have failed you for the third time.”

~*~

The bard looks puzzled, “But why did she name herself so? One, Morrighu, Badb, Storm Crow, Divine Wind, Planewalker, Kinslayer, Godkiller, Swift Justice, or Heart of Fury – many of those are not names most would wish to carry or make known.”

Valen sighs, “One is because she was the ‘One’ of the ‘Four’. Morrighu and Badb should be plain to you. ‘Storm Crow’ and ‘Divine Wind’ are names she bears by right of the goddess she serves. ‘Planewalker’ she bore because of the places her goddess sent her. ‘Kinslayer’ came from her time under Rigan and the war amongst his paladins. ‘Godkiller’ should also be plain to you. ‘Swift Justice’ and ‘Heart of Fury’ were due to her aspect. She had others but she never used them with anyone but me since it would give them a clue as to her born name. Our time in Cania added a couple of others to her list.”

Grinning, Valen reaches up and clamps a hand over her mouth, “She may be a paladin, but she still has a temper.”

Gru’ul looks at the paladin with something approaching respect, “Not bad for a clueless berk. Let’s see now, just what we have here - pure mithral, heavily enchanted, good quality custom workmanship, nicely decorated, a few gems. I’ll give you fifty thousand for the armor. Let’s take a look at the whip.” He picks the whip up but it’s in two pieces.

Valen unclamps her mouth and Morrighu relents slightly, “I believe that I mentioned she lost the fight.”

The quarry boss nods before returning to his appraisal, “I’ll give you thirty-five thousand for the whip. I’d give you more, but it needs repairs.”

Morrighu nods, “Done and done.”

Morrighu opens her pack and tosses the gold into it.

She hands one ring to each of her companions, “Here this will protect you from the cold.”

Nathyrra slips the ring on gratefully, “It doesn’t make me feel any warmer.”

Morrighu laughs, “It won’t, but it will keep you from being harmed by it. It will still feel cold to you, but you will not suffer from frostbite or any other damage. Your lips are not as blue. We passed something that I want to go back and look at. When we were coming past those cliffs, I thought I saw something moving up there. I want to see what it is and be sure it’s harmless.”

Morrighu jogs back and climbs the slope. Soon she’s standing in front of a cave and small dog like creature. Morrighu kneels and holds out a hand to the little creature. It approaches her and sniffs cautiously. Morrighu reaches out and pets it. Soon, it’s leaping against her leg and whining anxiously. She looks down at it, “What’s the matter, little fellow?”

The little creature starts to run between Morrighu and cave, continuing to whine anxiously.

Nathyrra looks at the creature curiously, “What’s in the cave?”

The creature stops whining and seems to focus its attention on Morrighu. To her surprise, an image begins to form above its head, illuminated by a dim blue light that seems to filter through from above. Looking closer, she sees a woman sheathed in ice and perfectly still. A look of utter despair marks her cold, blue face and only the merest breath escapes her frozen lips. The creature resumes its whining.

Valen looks at the creature, “She’s in that cave?”

The creature dances about his legs excitedly and emits a series of sharp crackling noises, seemingly in confirmation to his question.

Morrighu nods, “What can we do to help you?”

The creature forms an image of an icy wall, etched with countless names. The wall seems infinitely long, scrolling by in dizzying twists and turns to finally reveal a single blank space where a new one can be carved. The image then transforms into a series of carved rectangular stones that the creature seems to use for navigation. She can sense the creature’s desire to go to one of them but you can’t determine which one.

Morrighu sighs, “You want us to take you to a stone, but which one?”

A pair of images coalesces above the creature’s head. The first image is that of a sturdy oak, full with leaves. The second image is of a boy held in a man’s arms. You can see a family resemblance between them but the father doesn’t seem to be the focus of the image.

Valen frowns, “Each image represents a syllable of a larger word. Beyond that, I can’t say I’m sure. If all else fails, we can simply lead him to all of them. He’ll recognize the one he wants eventually.”

Morrighu shrugs and starts back down the cliff toward one of the pillars that she’s already spotted on their way to the quarry office. The little creature hurries to keep up, so Morrighu slows to wait for him. They approach the pillar and the little thing begins to dance and cackle again, signaling that it is the right pillar.

Nathyrra looks at Morrighu, “Well done!”

Morrighu shrugs, “That’s just dumb luck.”

Now the creature shows you a man on his deathbed, then two others standing side by side, then a fourth man’s leg, bared between his ankle-high boots and knee-length breeches. Morrighu continues leading the creature, pillar to pillar until he begins to dance and cackle again. She kneels and pets the creature again as it nuzzles her hand. After a moment, it backs off and shows her another set of pictures: A traveler’s resting house, a shark cutting through the water, a close-up of a winking face, and steam rising from a cup and saucer.

Morrighu continues on, pillar to pillar and since there are so few left, she hasn’t started over yet. After a couple of false alarms, she finally reaches the right pillar. This time instead of dancing and cackling, the creature sniffs around its base, and then heads toward one of the icy walls nearby. The bright light that it’s been making word pictures with becomes a pencil-thin beam. The creature uses the beam to carve a name in the wall ice. Content with its handiwork, the Scrivener stands aside as she peers into the pale blue ice.

There, so recently etched, she can read the name “Aribeth de Tylmarande.”

Morrighu drops to her knees in the snow, staring at the wall. After a long moment, Morrighu looks at the creature, “Did you know her at all?”

The creature forms an image of the frozen woman passing by at the head of an angry crowd of spirits, leading them toward the gates. The image fades away sadly.

Valen kneels next to her and begins hesitantly, “Morrighu…”

She turns to face him, “We must find her, Valen. I failed her once. I would not fail her again.”

She gets up and runs through the camp back to the cave as Valen and Nathyrra hurry after her. Climbing the slope she runs inside. At the bottom of an icy pit, she sees Aribeth trapped in a sheet of ice. Morrighu runs to a nearby pile of rubble and begins tossing wood down into the pit. Valen arrives and starts helping her. She looks up and flashes him a smile of gratitude.

She runs down the slope and begins to pile the wood in front of Aribeth. When there’s enough for a large fire, she lights it and tosses in some of the berries. As the berries burst open, the heat from the fire increases greatly. Nathyrra approaches the fire and holds her hands out, warming herself. Morrighu drags up a small log and sits on it, watching…waiting.

Valen stands behind her, his hand on her shoulder while his thumb massages the back of her neck. Nathyrra looks at Morrighu, who is watching nervously as Aribeth defrosts. In the heat of the resulting bonfire, the woman begins to stir. Ice melts from her face like tears and her hair clings damply to her brow. Confused, frightened, and defiant, she attacks. As Morrighu raises her blades, Valen steps in and deftly disarms Aribeth.

Aribeth looks at him, “I am Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande, betrayer of the city of Neverwinter. What is it that you want of me?”

Valen nods to Morrighu, “I, nothing. She wanted to speak to you.”

Morrighu stands uncertainly, her eyes brimming and her lower lip trembling, “Ari? Is it really you?”

Aribeth turns to her, “You seem to know me, which is odd. I don’t think I know myself anymore. I know my name, I know the facts and details, and I know the story of my fall… I was once a paladin of Tyr, there was a plague, and I loved a man. All of it seems like some horrible fairy tale, like a story about someone else from long ago. Maybe that’s all it was… Maybe that’s how you knew it as well. I don’t know… I try to forget those times.”

Morrighu turns to her, “Why do you try to forget them? Why forget all of us?”

Aribeth sighs, “Do you want the truth? What if I told you that I don’t like who I was in life. I don’t even know if I like who I am now. It seems better to become one of the Lost, numb even to memories.”

Morrighu looks grim, “In doing this, you are only serving Mephistopheles.”

Aribeth looks grim, “Less so, than you think. He was devouring us, eating our very souls to build his army… I’ll serve no army! Never again! I served Tyr, I served Lord Nasher, and I served Morag and her Old Ones! All my life I’ve worn their colors, waved their flags, and done their bidding. What did it get me? I’ll not serve Mephistopheles now, after I’ve gambled and lost so much! …So I challenged him. The other spirits thought I did it for them but they are fools. I serve only myself, now. He cannot devour the Lost.”

Valen nods in agreement, “I, too, marched behind the standards of a distant war. It changes you, that much is sure.”

Morrighu sighs, “How did Mephistopheles respond? He seemed…chatty, when we spoke.”

Aribeth looks pained, “Mephistopheles found humor in my challenge and heard me out, listening patiently until I ran out of words to speak. There, in the silence, he gave voice to the one secret I have harbored within me for so long. Fenthick Moss, cleric of Tyr, hung as a traitor, the man I was about to marry, the man I’ve always said I loved… I never loved him… I never loved him and somehow Mephistopheles knew the truth.”

Morrighu waves a hand dismissively, “Bah! Mephistopheles is just toying with your emotions.”

Aribeth shakes her head, “Then why do I know his words are true? I never loved Fenthick… I wish I had.”

Morrighu looks surprised, “You were to marry him. How could you not love him?”

Aribeth sighs, “He was a well-intentioned fool but a fool nonetheless. But he was young and a priest of the Church I served. To marry him was to marry the Church. It all seemed too perfect to be wrong…”

Morrighu looks very sad, “Why, Ari, in the name of the Nine Hells is that so important?”

Aribeth frowns at her, “Don’t you see? When they hung him, I abandoned my church, my faith, my god. I led an army of evil against Neverwinter, my own city. I wrought destruction on the world and damned my soul to the Hells. And to have not done that out of love, out of grief, out of righteous anger? My entire life has been a lie. A paladin of vanity, a blackguard of denial, they were equal poisons coursing through my veins.”

Morrighu shakes her head, “Your mind is still polluted with that devil’s blabber. He wants you to feel like this. He is a devil and he is as much the natural enemy of a paladin as he is a tanar’ri.”

Aribeth laughs bitterly, “Then he has succeeded, for here I am in the middle of things, neither good nor evil, neither paladin nor blackguard, wanting nothing but to become nothing and meld my soul into the essence of Cania.”

Morrighu shakes her head again, “Even as my goddess chose me, Tyr chose you as his paladin. You told me the story yourself. Do you doubt his wisdom?”

Aribeth sniffs, “Yes, I do. I doubt everything, even myself. Gods can make mistakes, as can devils, as can ghosts, as can mortals. How could Tyr still want me after all I’ve done?”

Morrighu grabs Aribeth’s shoulders and looks into her eyes, “Ari, you know as well as I that we do not get to decide that. Our gods are not infallible, but it is still their choice and not our own. Remember your oaths, Ari! We are subservient to our deities. Let Tyr decide if he will have you back or no.”

Aribeth looks startled and then thoughtful, “Let Tyr decide… You present an argument I can’t refute, fire starter. Perhaps my faith has been refined by your fire and strengthened by this ice. Very well, I shall do as you say…”

Aribeth takes her sword from Valen and plants it in the ice. She kneels before it and grasps the hilt, “On this blade, on my names, both true and given, and on all the good and evil I have done in life, I commit all the days that remain to me, for better or for worse, to Tyr and to his justice. Let it be so!”

Morrighu reaches out and grabs the other paladin’s arm, pulling her close, “Be righteous in the depths of hell, sister paladin.”

Aribeth nods, saying nothing as Morrighu pulls her to her feet.

Morrighu turns and begins the climb out of the pit.

As they near the top, Valen looks at Nathyrra, “Would you mind having a chat with Aribeth and letting us have some privacy?”

Morrighu catches a glimpse of Nathyrra grinning as she turns and moves away.

Valen turns to Morrighu, “There is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you for some time, my lady.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, seemingly unsure how to continue, “We might meet our end at any time now, and there is something I would like to get off my chest first.”

Morrighu looks at him curiously, “Really? What is that you wanted to discuss?”

He gathers his thoughts and continues, “I too have things that I will not pass beyond the veil and leave unspoken. You were plain with me in the Maker’s sanctuary, now let me be plain with you here. We have not known each other for long, though our time together has been rather…eventful. I wanted you to know, however, that in the time we’ve spent together I’ve… come to feel quite close to you. I… I think I’ve come to know you quite well. I’ve come to trust you and rely on you. You have trusted and relied on me. You have made your feelings for me plain enough. I, however, have not made my feelings plain to you. That is a failing I plan to rectify.”

Still running through his rehearsed speech; he goes on, “I believe we have a companionship, an understanding, and something far greater than that.” He looks at Morrighu to gage her reaction, but she only beams at him, waiting for him to continue.

“My life,” he begins slowly, “has been one of nothing but rage and despair. Much of it, I do not even recall. Even after I came to the Seer, I still believed that gaining my humanity was the most I could aspire to and that solitude was to be my portion. I do not feel that way anymore. I believe there is something greater I could aspire to and that there will be more to my life than loneliness. When we were in Lith My’athar, I promised you that I would bind up your broken heart, kiss all the places that had been stung, and be a balm on those raw spots of yours. Even as I ask you to prove yourself, I have tried to prove myself to you. I know from the things you have told me about your past that you need certain things from me. I think…I think that I can provide them…easily. I see the woman and the paladin. They are both beautiful to me.” He kneels before Morrighu, taking both of her hands in his, as his eyes stare into hers intensely, “I…I love you, my lady - with all my heart.”

He tries to repeat something that she said to him and slips in her language, “Mau Anwylyd Rhai.”

Morrighu laughs joyously, “Valen, you know how I feel about you. However, I must correct you – unless of course you are in love with a man – “Mau Anwyliaid Unau” is what you would say to me. I call you, “Mau Anwylyd Rhai,” my beloved one.”

He nods, but refuses to get up when she pulls at his hands, “I’m not done yet. I’ve not been entirely fair to you. I have loved you for some time now but I have been too proud and too stubborn to tell you. Nathyrra made me promise that I would tell you. When I went into the throne room at the fortress and all that was left of you was a blood stain and a scorch mark on the carpet, I knew I had lost you forever. I felt terrible because I had not told you I loved you. I thought you…you had died without knowing that. That thought alone broke my heart, Mau Anwyliaid Unau. When we were in the Reaper’s realm, we had no true privacy. This is the first place, since you called me back to your side, where I have had privacy enough to tell you what has been on my mind and in my heart. You and Nathyrra tried to tell me that any chance for happiness should be seized and made the most of. I was too stubborn and too foolish to listen to either of you. I held myself aloof from you, for fear that you might betray us or that I…I might get hurt.”

He sighs heavily, “Part of the oath that I swore was that once the Valsharess was defeated I would get down on my knees, declare my feelings for you, and beg you to accept me.” He looks up at her, hopefully, “I’m to the part now where I beg you to accept me. Will you accept me even though I’m proud, stubborn, and occasionally foolish?”

She laughs again, trying to pull him to his feet, “While I am glad to hear you say all those things, surely you know the answer. I accepted you long ago, just as you are. I told you that when you were ready, you would speak the words.” She kneels down in front of him and looks into his eyes, “Mau Anwylyd Rhai, you speak too much.”

He draws her into an enveloping embrace and his mouth closes over hers in a slow, deliberate, and lingering kiss. Afterwards, Valen smiles bashfully, “It is more than I could have hoped for that you would still return my feelings, my love. Nothing could make me happier.”

She laughs, “We still have much to do. Dealing with Mephistopheles, for starters.”

” I know,” as he looks down, smiling contentedly, “I have no doubt at all that we’ll make it through this. And then… well, I suppose we can talk about that then. All I know is that you are the most amazing woman I have ever encountered. Any future we have is enough for me.”

She grins at him, “I think we probably ought to get Nathyrra and get moving. I’d like to see if we cannot come by more comfortable quarters than the Reaper’s realm. We need to find this Sleeping Man and see if he knows the Reaper’s True Name.”

Valen nods in agreement as he stands, pulling Morrighu to her feet.

He calls, “Nathyrra, we must go.”

Nathyrra comes back up the slope with a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, “I see you kept your promise.”

Valen bows his head, “I did. It was not as…difficult as I had thought.”

Nathyrra gives his arm a friendly squeeze, “Let us see about getting out of our prison, then.”

Morrighu leaves the cave and stands on the cliff surveying the city below. She turns down a path and heads for another building.

Soon enough, she stands before another sign, “Hellsbreath Tavern.”

She grins impishly at Valen, “I wonder if they have ale here.”

Valen laughs heartily as he holds the door open for her. They head down the stairs and Valen stops suddenly, “Oh look, we really are in the Hells after all. A mime.”

Behind them Nathyrra points in another direction, “A jester in the Hells? Well, I suppose if anyone needs to be amused it’s the souls trapped here.”

Morrighu grins, “I care not what else is here if they have hot food and ale.”

Beside her Valen chuckles, “My love, what is this fondness you have for ale?”

She laughs, “I prefer wine, actually, but that’s often problematic. Most places have trouble making palatable wine, so palatable ale is generally easier to come by.”

Valen shakes his head in mock dismay, “Surely you do not plan on becoming inebriated in this place.”

She rolls her eyes at him as she goes in search of the tavern keeper. She enters a side room that she’s spotted the other patron’s coming and going from and is confronted by a large blue dragon.

She stands before him, somewhat unnerved beneath the dragon’s gaze, “Only in the outer planes,” she thinks, “would such a creature choose to be a tavern keeper.”

“Can I get you something?” it growls, the corners of its mighty maw curling up in what looks to be an angry sneer.

Morrighu grins at him, “Have you any ale?”

The dragon nods and three pints of ale appear on the counter.

Morrighu flips some gold coins out of her pack onto the counter, “Tell me about your patrons.”

There is a cold glint in the tavern-keeper’s eye. “Gru’ul and I have an arrangement regarding the off-duty quarry workers so here’s where they spend their coin. Some of the spirits come here, too, devil knows why. As for them Githzerai, they’re new here and nothing but trouble, nursing their swill like it’s all they have left in life. That winged fellow with them, though, he drinks it hard and fast. I just hope he’s good for the money…”

Morrighu laughs, “If you have trouble, I might be able to help you collect. As things stand, though, I need to return to Toril.”

The dragon’s cruel laugh reverberates throughout the tavern. They hear a tankard shatter in the room beyond. “Give it up, berk. Pull up a chair and have a drink, you’re here to stay.”

She shakes her head, “That really won’t do. There are things that must be done and one of those is that I must find the Reaper’s True Name. You wouldn’t happen to know it, would you?”

The dragon sneers at her, “Another bunch of clueless berks! I know how to run a tavern, hunt for my supper, and make a fine swill. The rest I leave to berks like you… Now were you wanting another drink or not?”

Morrighu shakes her head, picks the ale up off the counter, and moves off. She begins to wander around the Tavern, carefully observing everyone and everything. As she moves further into the tavern, she spots a familiar-looking figure. Morrighu elbows Valen as she moves toward him. She recognizes this drow as Rizolvir, the smith from the Seer’s rebel camp.

He gives her a grin and says, “I didn’t expect to see you down here. Welcome to the Hells.”

Morrighu stands there with her mouth open for a moment, in shock, before it snaps shuts, “What in the name of the gods are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “I was killed during the siege of Lith My’athar. Not sure why I ended up here, exactly… maybe the Eighth Hell just needed a good weapon smith. It’s not so bad. I’ve been able to rebuild my forge, drawing heat from down here below the ice. I’ve already crafted enough items to restock my inventory and, while business is slow, it’s better than nothing. The clientele are a bit different: devils and githzerai instead of drow. But other than that, the more things change, the more they stay the same. At the heart of it, I’m still selling and upgrading weapons.”

Morrighu goes to hug him but her arms pass through him.

Rizolvir smiles at her, “It’s the thought that counts.”

She nods, “Anyone interesting here?”

Rizolvir shakes his head, “A few gith, and another tiefling. You might want to talk to the other tiefling.”

Morrighu nods and sets off to where she spotted him earlier.

She looks up at Valen, “Will you answer question for me?”

Valen nods, “Yes, my love, if I am able.”

Morrighu smiles at the new appellation, “I saw the man he means, but he didn’t have a tail. He had wings instead. Is it significant?”

He nods, “It can be. It may be that his origins are devilish instead of demonic. It may also have to do with the particular type of infernal that he is descended from. Will you answer a question for me?”

She smiles at him, “If I am able. What is it you wish to know?”

He reaches out and turns her to face him, “You said that we had much to do and Mephistopheles was the start of it. Do you…have thoughts on the rest of it?”

She chews her lower lip thoughtfully, “It will all be very mundane after this. My goddess has promised me a time of rest so we’ll have to find a place to live. I suppose I shall have you to occupy my time. I don’t really know how I’ll adapt to having a home instead of being a rootless wanderer. I think, though, that we’re counting dragons before they’ve hatched.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he strokes her cheek, “You’ve never said home before. Come, let us speak to this tiefling, and see what he may know.”

Morrighu approaches a table occupied by an elderly man with a lopsided grin who casually shuffles cards, occasionally earning the scowls of some of the more dour-faced patrons. Two horns protrude from his forehead, one slightly chipped. She looks at him curiously, “What’s with the horns?”

He looks up from his cards and grins at her, “New around here? Well, my, my. They show up every time I visit the Hells, it seems. They’ll fall right off a couple of weeks after I leave. It must be I have some fiendish blood in me. That’d explain my mother’s side of the family, at any rate.”

She points at Valen, “I’m well aware of what a tiefling is. I meant the big chip that you have missing. It looks recent.”

“Recent enough,” he says as the slapping sound of the card’s shuffling slows briefly before resuming, “I had me a little tussle with the sensei.”

Morrighu grins at him, “Who’s the sensei?”

He looks up at her, still toying with the cards, “Oh, you’ll find her in the temple just north of here, tending to the Sleeping Man. The sensei is the one who brought all of these pouting pilgrims here. Not a single sense of humor to be shared among them, I’m afraid.”

Morrighu looks puzzled, “Pilgrims? As in ‘on a pilgrimage’ of a religious sort?”

The old tiefling snorts, “Have you no eyes? The tavern’s full of them! Grey skin, dour faces, overly pious with their whispered voices, all of them led to the depths of the Nine Hells by that fool lass, the sensei. All of it in the name of the Sleeping Man.”

Morrighu looks curious, “That’s the second time I’ve heard that name. Who’s the Sleeping Man?”

The horned man spits, never interrupting his shuffling of the cards, “If you’ve got questions about the Sleeping Man, go talk to the sensei. I’ve washed my hands of it.”

Morrighu rolls her eyes, “I’m new here, remember. Washed your hands of what?”

He sighs, still shuffling the cards, “Just a harmless joke was all. These pouting pilgrims keep prattling on about ‘the Sleeping Man this’ and ‘the Sleeping Man that.’ The thought of waking the old guy up started tickling my funny bone. Needless to say, when the sensei caught wind of it, she didn’t take too kindly to the idea. That’s when we had the tussle.”

Morrighu nods, “So you tried to disturb their religious figure and they became angry. People are often quite sensitive about religion. I think we shall have to go and see this Sleeping Man for our selves. I thank you for your time.”

She drops a couple of coins on the table, “Take that in exchange for letting us disturb you. The least we can do is buy you a drink.”

The horned man turns back to his cards as they wander off to find a table of their own so that they can finish their ale. Valen pulls out chairs for Morrighu and Nathyrra before he sits next to Morrighu, draping a somewhat possessive arm around her shoulders.

Morrighu smiles at Valen, “Ready to haggle over pricing yet?”

The tiefling blushes furiously as Morrighu laughs while Nathyrra looks confused.

Morrighu grins at Nathyrra, “Private joke.”

Nathyrra nods and sips at her ale.

Morrighu sips in silence for a while and then frowns, “I am of a mind to see if we cannot speak to some of these spirits here. Perhaps they have been here long enough to have some information for us.”

Valen shakes his head, “The dead don’t sit well with me, Morrighu. I keep expecting to see the dim faces of those I’ve vanquished in past battles.”

She nods, “I know, me too. I keep waiting for one of them to accost me or accuse me. Still, I think it must be done.”

Morrighu waves one of the spirits over, “Come, and sit with us. I would offer you a drink, if you can have such.”

The spirit drifts over, “I appreciate the offer, but…”

Morrighu looks at her curiously, “Why do you come here then?”

The spirit sighs, “It’s almost warm in here… Not like outside… It’s almost enough to take off the chill, the clawing, biting chill… Even so, it’s only a matter of time…”

Morrighu looks puzzled, “It’s only a matter of time until what?”

The spirit lets out another thready sigh, “Either until Mephistopheles devours our souls for his new army or until we succumb to the cold and become one of the Lost… I just want to live, to return home… But that’s not possible…”

Morrighu seizes upon the name, “Mephistopheles is devouring your souls?”

The spirit nods, “Yes, he has an army of the dead in the distant world of Toril and he’s drawing on our essence to animate them… He’s devoured so many of us as it is and still he needs more… Every one of us in a plume of white…”

Valen chimes in, “I have seen such armies in the Blood War, my love. They are costly to raise but nigh-unstoppable once formed. If this is true, it does not bode well for Toril.”

The spirit continues, “Asmodeus banned the other Lords of Hell from going there because evil sown on that plane can lead to great power… Somehow Mephistopheles found a way, though, and now his power knows no bounds…”

Morrighu looks at the spirit curiously, “What does it mean to have one’s soul devoured?”

The spirit shudders but she cannot tell if it is from fear or a sudden gust of chill wind. “It is a fate worse than death, worse than the Hells… To have one’s soul devoured is to become nothing at all.”

Morrighu curses softly under her breath. Valen has learned enough of her language to catch a couple of fragments of what she’s said and he blanches slightly.

Morrighu nods, “My thanks, spirit. You have my word to try and put an end to this devouring, as you call it.”

She turns to Valen as the spirit drifts off, her face stark, “We must hurry, for the sake of all. So, we know that he seeks to become the ruler of all the Hells and supersede Nessus and Asmodeus. Perhaps they would be willing to help us, in order that they not are made subservient to an upstart.”

Valen looks at her, shock evident in his face, “Surely you would not think to ally yourself with arch-devils! You are a paladin.”

She nods, “I would, if I must. In a fight to death, do you scorn any weapon that comes into your hand?”

Nathyrra manages a chuckle, “Now you sound like a drow.”

Morrighu rolls her eyes, “I am merely being practical. While we have our moral and ethical issues, we paladins are eminently pragmatic. Be that as it may, I have no way to contact them to propose such a thing.”

Valen sighs, “And that is probably for the best, my love. I do not know how I would fare around such beings.”

Morrighu swirls her tankard, “I would say that we should try to see if we cannot wake this Sleeping Man and see what he knows. He’s obviously been here long enough to have a temple built around him. That leads me to think that he’s been here for quite some time. Perhaps he will know the Reaper’s True Name. The only good thing that has come out of this has been a settling of my score with Halaster and,” she smiles warmly at Valen, “you.”

Nathyrra makes a noise of disappointment so Morrighu grins at her, “You were being so quiet over there, I wasn’t sure you were paying attention.”

She grins back at the paladin, “Surely I count for something?”

Morrighu nods, “Indeed you do, my sister. Indeed you do.”

Valen yawns and Morrighu notices that even Nathyrra looks tired.

She wanders over to the Tavern keeper again. The dragon looks her over, “So, the clueless berk is back again. What’ll it be this time?”

Morrighu looks at him, “If you have them we’d like a couple of rooms for the night.”

The dragon snorts and wisps of smoke curl out of his nostrils, “We have a few, but they’re not cheap. Fifty gold a night for a small one and a hundred gold for a large one.”

Morrighu looks at the dragon, “Ten is reasonable for a small room and fifteen for a big room. ”

The dragon snorts, harder this time, “Get lost berk!”

Morrighu’s temper flares again, “Look here, dragon, I’ve got one set of dragon scale armor here in this pack. Unless you’d like to be a second set by about this time next week, I suggest that you give me a reasonable price. I’ve had about enough of you rude people AND I AM NOT A BERK! I have names and you may use anyone of them you wish – One, Morrighu, Badb, Storm Crow, Divine Wind, Planewalker, Kinslayer, Godkiller, Swift Justice, or Heart of Fury.”

She reaches over the counter, shoves her thumb in one of its rather sensitive nostrils, her fingers in the other, and proceeds to take a three-quarter turn on them, “If you call me berk again, I can assure you that I am a paladin of sufficient power to make you regret it.” She pulls the dragon’s head down so that she can look him in the eye. The dragon blinks in surprise as she applies a bit of additional pressure to her grip on his nose, “DON’T CALL ME BERK AGAIN!”

Meanwhile, Valen has heard her raised voice and comes running. He skids to a stop as he watches the dragon’s eyes water in pain from his torqued nose. The dragon eyeballs Valen to see if any assistance is forthcoming.

Once he realizes that none is, the dragon asks Valen, “Why does she list Godkiller one of her names?”

Valen grins back, “She’s slain two gods.”

The dragon’s pupil dilates slightly in surprise, “Two? She’s serious then?”

Valen, amused, nods “She is most always serious. I do not know what you have done to offend her, but she’s had a rather bad day and her temper is short. Gru’ul found that out the hard way.”

The dragon looks at him in disbelief – Gru’ul’s temper is legendary. Valen shrugs and repeats her statement to Gru’ul and despite her grip on his nose, the dragon laughs, “Oh, release my nose, paladin. I will not call you berk anymore.”

Morrighu releases his nose and the dragon is laughing so hard that he’s rolling on the floor and kicking his legs in the air.

While he’s rolling he’s gasping, “Ooo – ooo – ooo - Gru’ul – bested – by – a – half – pint – human – female – ah – gods – of – all – things – paladin!” Valen grins and nods in agreement. When the dragon’s laughter has subsided, “I will give you a room here, for that alone. Gru’ul and I have a business arrangement, but I do not care for him at all.”

Morrighu watches in fascination as the dragon eventually straightens himself and resumes his former intense malevolent gaze.

She shakes her head, “How much for the second room then?”

The dragon considers, “Twenty.”

She nods, “Done, provided my companions approve of the accommodations.”

She slaps a weeks worth of coins on the counter. The gold quickly disappears and is replaced by two keys. Morrighu grins at Valen as she waggles a key in his direction. To the dragon’s amusement, the tiefling’s face nearly matches his hair as he offers her his arm. She leads him off to find Nathyrra and then their room.

Morrighu leans with her back against the door of their room, looking at Valen. He’s insisted on inspecting every nook and cranny.

He turns to find her studying him with very self-satisfied expression on her face, “Now it is you who looks like the cat that’s gotten all the cream.”

He watches as Morrighu locks the door and tosses the key on to a side table. When her gaze returns to him, there is a hint of flame in her smoky olive eyes. It’s enough to make his breath catch in his throat and his heart pound. He unconsciously clenches and unclenches his hands as she starts toward him.

She looks up at him for a long moment before she speaks in a sultry voice, “I would not call it cream…at least not yet.”

He sucks in a sharp breath as she runs her gauntleted hand up his neck. She stops for a moment to cup his cheek and she feels his hands encircle her waist. She sighs contentedly as she reaches around and pulls his head down to hers.

He stops for a moment, “Some things are still…unwise.”

She smiles, “Surely not everything, though.”

He sighs, “No, not everything.”

Slowly, languidly her smile broadens, “Good. Then teach me.”

He chuckles softly as he bends forward to kiss her, “I am yours to command.”

He finds, somewhat to his surprise, that he is the one being kissed. His hands roam over her, undoing buckles and casting things aside while hers do the same to him. He grins at her as he uses his belt to bind her eyes. Soon there isn’t anything left between them and the feel of her skin against his is almost more than he can stand.

He moans, “Oh, ye gods, Morrighu, I don’t know that I can do this.”

She looks up at him, trusting and confident, “Then show me what to do…to ease your tension.”

He trembles as he guides her hands. The demon in him screams for him to take her now, swiftly and harshly to punish her for teasing him so, but the man manages to shut out the demon with a wave of tenderness. In the room next door, Nathyrra laughs quietly to herself at hearing a bitten back cry of release in a male voice. Curled against him afterward, he showers her with kisses, nuzzling and caressing every sensitive spot.

His tail strokes down her side languidly as she looks into his eyes, “So, did that help at all?”

He chuckles, “Yes and no, my love. The immediacy of it is lessened, but the overall need has grown. Now, though, it’s your turn.”

His mouth roams down her neck, trailing heat and setting her blood on fire. He suckles her slowly, lingering as she bites her lip and moans. He takes as his reward her small noises of pleasure at his attentions and lingers over the sensitive skin of her belly. His kisses continue to wander over her, down the tender skin of her thighs and back up. When she’s nearly writhing, his tongue flicks out and catches the sensitive bud, pulling it into his warm mouth. A spasm of pleasure washes through her and he’s gratified to see that her eyes are nearly crossed. Chuckling to himself, he bends to his labors, teasing and cajoling every ecstatic sigh and moan from her until her release finally comes. Some time later, spent and sleepy, she nestles against him seeking comfort and warmth. He cradles her gently and all but coos to her as she drifts off. It isn’t long before her rhythmic breathing has its effect on him and he drifts off as well.

The next morning he wakes to find she is nestled against him, still twined about him. He sighs as he looks down at her, her hair spread across both of them and sighs heavily. She shifts slightly in her sleep and as she stirs, so do other things. Valen soothes her, knowing that their sleep has already been cut short enough. Finally, she wakes though sighing contently as she reaches across the bed and find that he is really there.

He smiles at her tenderly, “Will that do for now, my love?”

Trembling, she burrows into his shoulder, “I thought I had lost you.”

He pulls her tighter, “Shhhh…my love, I know. I thought I had lost you as well. I went into the throne room, looking for you and all I found was a scorch mark in the carpet and a pool of your blood. Not enough for me to be able to resurrect you. I thought…I thought I had failed you again. I went looking for Mephistopheles meaning to make him pay dearly for the privilege, but he caught me in a blast of magic before I could even engage him. I thought then…I thought I had failed you for a third time, that there was not even to be any vengeance for you.”

She sighs, “My very good Valen, you have never failed me.”

He rocks her against him, caressing and comforting. He whispers a thousand loving words and makes at least a half dozen promises before he feels her shaking stop. She raises a tear-stained face meaning to speak to him, but he lays finger on her lips. One by one, he kisses every tear and between kisses he tells her, “Hush, now. There is no need for all this. You are well. I am well. We will win our freedom. You are my love, my precious one. Hush.”

He’s finally able to comfort his paladin and she dozes off again in arms. He stares down at her lovingly for a time, before he too drifts off.

Some time later, Nathyrra knocks on the door, “Alright, lovebirds, time to get up. It’s nearly midday.”

Valen chuckles, “Very well, sleepyhead, we’ll be out soon.”

He playfully swats Morrighu’s exposed behind, “Rise, o fearsome paladin, and lead us from this place.”

Morrighu rolls to face him, mischief evident in her face, “Hah! I see how you are. Get your fill and then roll me out of bed to send me on my way.”

He reaches up and grabs her chin so that he can look into her eyes. Suddenly very serious, he whispers softly, “I have not even begun to have my fill of you. Wait until we have defeated this arch-devil. I will show you what it takes for me to have my fill of you, for a time anyway.”

She smiles and blushes at his intensity, “We must get dressed if we are to visit this temple and see this Sleeping Man.”

~*~

The bard sucks in a sharp breath, “How did you get out Cania?”

Valen waggles his tankard at the bard, “If you want to find that you, you’ll have to buy some more ale. I will tell you though that she had severe doubts about our ability to find a way out of that place though. She never told me about it, until long after – years later in fact. At the time, she seemed so sure…so confident. She told me later that she was afraid to tell me because she didn’t want to frighten any of us. She did her best to keep all of us calm and steady in the most trying of circumstances. Nathyrra would probably have crumbled if Morrighu had ever shown the slightest doubt. I always felt like she should have told me, but Cania was…difficult for me.”

The bard looks at him, “Why was being in Cania so difficult for you?”

The tiefling laughs, “You call yourself a bard? I was a tanar’ri walking through the home ground of the baatezu.”

As Morrighu takes to her path again, more of the skeleton chiefs arise to meet her. She whirls into the attack with Valen on her right and with Nathyrra’s help they quickly best the minor skeletons. No sooner than the last one falls, another bone mass forms. Morrighu dashes in and gets a few solids strikes against the creature, which causes it to reel in her direction.

While it’s distracted by Morrighu, Valen circles behind it and lands a couple of solid blows on its spine and pelvis, crushing them. Morrighu sighs and steps toward the third pillar. This time they’re braced for the consequences and it takes even less time to dispatch them. With the guardians disposed of, Morrighu walks over to the pillars and retrieves the three pieces of the ring.

When she looks at them closely, one is marked with an “L,” one with an “H,” and one with an “F.” She begins to try to fit them together. Finally, walking back toward the astral portal, she spots the prayer card and rearranges the pieces of the ring. They seem to snap into place.

She turns to Valen, “Look, if the Sleeping Man is correct, all we must do is follow the path this marks, and we will be out of here in no time.”

Valen grins back her, “Nothing is ever easy, though I hope you are correct.”

She leads them back through the astral gate and the Sleeping Man sees her, “That be the one. Now keep it safe and hurry, you must follow its path to the Knower of Places and ask her where you will find the Knower of Names. The glaciers may have shifted but the path is true.”

Morrighu shoves the ring on to her finger and suddenly the world is tinted pink and there are arrows on the floor. As she moves to exit the chamber, she trips over a crystalline necklace which has clearly been flung down by the Sensei. Morrighu picks it up and tosses it into her pack, meaning to give it to the Sensei later. Valen sees this and frowns, knowing as most planars do, that crystals often have many purposes. He makes a mental note to speak to her about it later. They stand outside, Morrighu once again seeing things that they cannot.

He’s reminded of the p’zae, “My love, what is it that the ring shows you?”

She turns to him, “Mostly it’s just arrows on the ground, but I see a door there that I did not see before.”

He nods, “No terrible creatures?”

She shakes her head, “No, nothing nightmarish at all.”

She smiles at him and hands him her pack, “Will you see to our supplies? I would have us well-stocked before we set off.”

Valen nods and holds out a hand for Nathyrra’s pack as well, “Stay with her, I’ll stock your pack too.”

Morrighu smiles at his retreating back as he jogs off in the direction of the quarry office.

Nathyrra looks at Morrighu curiously, “So have you put the Seer’s tea to good use?”

Morrighu shakes her head, “Not yet. He still says that some things are unwise, but…” She grins largely at the drow and blushes slightly, “Other things are acceptable.”

Nathyrra grins back, “So I heard last night. Now tell me, what’s he like?”

Morrighu laughs, “You have seen him. He is no different in private. He’s patient, kind, considerate, very protective and quite the gentleman.”

Nathyrra grins at her, “That sounds like a very pleasing combination.” She frowns a bit as she continues, “I do think that he gets a bit carried away being protective of you. I have tried to tell him on the one or two occasions when the subject has come up that you take more risk for less reward every time you go into combat.”

Morrighu nods, “I have tried to tell him the same thing, but I think, though he has not said, that he fears that in the throes of passion that his demon will escape his grasp and do me some harm. He also fears that I will become pregnant and therefore unable to fight. He may well be right on both counts. I’ve not asked but I would hazard a guess that he’s…ummm…been around a bit. Since I know almost nothing, I’ll let him have his way on this…for now.”

Nathyrra nods, “Yes, well, about that almost nothing. You know that he asked me to speak to you. He said that you lost your parents when you were still fairly young. He’s not sure if your mother had ‘the talk’ with you.”

Morrighu looks puzzled, “What you do you mean ‘the talk?’ Are you referring to how things work or what to expect?”

Nathyrra grins, “I think he meant ‘what to expect’ part. He seemed pretty sure you knew how things worked.”

Morrighu nods, “He’s right, she never did get to that. I’ve heard things…that sometimes the first time is awful. He says though, that it need not be. He seems to think that if he is very careful, that it will not be what ever that means.”

Nathyrra grins, “While he’s gone, I should probably tell you what my mother told me.” Morrighu nods and even giggles a couple of times as the drow delivers the same talk she got from her mother.

When Nathyrra is done, Morrighu looks at her surprised, “You mean that’s what he’s been so tweaked about?”

Nathyrra shrugs, “It would seem so.”

Morrighu rolls her eyes, “I will have to have a chat with him about that. He may well have good reasons for it, but my initial impression is that he is…overly concerned.”

Nathyrra rolls her eyes, “My impression is that he is overly concerned about a lot of things. He has his reasons, though. While I do not agree with him, I would not suggest that you try to force the matter. He is…quite stubborn.”

Morrighu nods, rolling her eyes, “Well do I know it. However, he has promised me that when he feels the time is right that I will eventually get my way. He has kept every other promise he’s made me so I see no reason to disbelieve this one. Any other man and I might be wary of it. He will keep is word, though. He is quite stubborn about that as well. Frankly, I find it reassuring. If he is willing to keep a simple promise, I can trust him to keep bigger and more important promises. My concerns do not stem from his promises or his…performance. My biggest concern is that he feels that he’s failed me on several things that are most definitely not his fault. He shoulders up burdens that are not his, sometimes they are not anyone’s. No matter how I try I cannot seem to disabuse him of some of these notions. I fear he will crush himself under a burden that is not even his. I have no ideas how to address this, though I’ve tried.”

Nathyrra nods and hugs her as Valen comes jogging back with their packs. He distributes the packs before Morrighu turns and activates the door and leads them through it. They find themselves standing in an opening leading to a snowy canyon. Morrighu blinks in the driving snow, unable to see very far.

Nathyrra shivers, “Is there no where warm in this place?”

Morrighu shakes her head, “I very much doubt it. This place is meant to breed despair.”

She walks forward cautiously, not know what to expect.

Valen trails at her side, looking at her anxiously, “What do you see?”

She shrugs, “Arrows that point the way, nothing more.”

He nods seeming to be reassured by her indifference. She wades through the blowing snow, driven by the wind whipping between the canyon walls toward another open area. As soon as she emerges, she is confronted by a gruesome sight. There is a large demon flesh golem warming his hands over a fire.

He’s surrounded by the frozen bodies of several wolves and a couple of people. It’s obvious from the state of the bodies what his dining habits are. Morrighu grimaces and tries to run, but standing in a snowdrift isn’t conducive to making a charge. She settles for slogging forward as quickly as she can.

When she’s in range, she swings at the golem, only to find herself enveloped in a flash of purple light. When the light fades, she finds that she’s been transformed into a pixie. Panicked, she retreats from the golem as quickly as she is able. Valen moves in between the two of them and his flail catches the down stroke of the golem’s sword. Just as she reaches the area beyond the combat, another flash of purple light envelops her and she’s finds that she’s become an earth elemental.

Turning back toward the golem meaning to deal some damage, she’s enveloped in another flash of purple light. She looks down to find that she’s become a wolf. She turns and begins to run again. Just as Valen fells the golem, she’s transformed again to herself.

She stands there panting while Valen looks at her with concern, “My love, are you alright? It’s that damned crystal isn’t it? I knew there would be more to that than meets the eye. I meant to say something to you about it when you picked it up.”

She grimaces and pulls out the crystal to examine it. As she turns the crystal to look at it, she catches the light along the length of the crystal and is quickly transformed into a pixie again. After a few moments this wears off and now she’s more curious. She turns the crystal and catches the light long the width of the crystal and is transformed into an earth elemental. Again, this wears off quickly. Hastily, she turns the crystal again and is transformed into a wolf. Again this wears off.

Morrighu sighs, “Well, at least we know what it does now. I suppose it might be useful.” She bends and begins looting the golem’s body, retrieving his sword and a tattered note. She reads it to them:

“”If you are reading this letter, then you have bested one of my Guardians of the Path…

Well know this: I have buried the Molikroth Rebels deep in the ice of Cania where they belong.

Let them be a symbol of what shall befall those who oppose me!

I recommend you turn back while you still have the strength to do so.”"

She sighs heavily, “At least it would seem that we are on the correct path. One down and two more to go.” She looks at Valen hopefully, “Since there is a fire here, I don’t suppose we could rest here for a little while before we move on.”

Valen nods, “We can. I need to…clean up a bit.”

He sits her down on a log near the fire and gestures to Nathyrra to stay with her as he starts carting the various bodies off, away from their campsite. When he’s done with that, he takes some rope from her pack along with a few other items and begins rigging a makeshift shelter.

Once the shelter is rigged he lays out the bedrolls, “Nathyrra, will you take the first watch?”

Nathyrra nods and moves into her place by the fire. Valen tosses a few of the Velox berries into the fire and then slides into the bedroll with Morrighu.

He gathers her up, stroking her hair, “Are you sure you’re alright? Transforming unexpectedly has to be unsettling to say the least.”

She sighs, “It is, but now that I understand it, it’s not so bad. I just hope it doesn’t happen again in the middle of combat. I found that to be more unsettling than anything.”

He sighs and kisses her forehead, “Shhh… Sleep now. I will be here when you wake.”

Before she nods off, nestled against him, she looks up, “Wake me. I’ll take the mid-watch.”

He smiles at her gently, “If you wish.” She nestles against him and is soon asleep.

He hovers over her protectively for a minute or two before he dozes off himself.

He wakes to find Nathyrra tapping his shoulder, “Whose taking mid-watch?”

He nods at Morrighu and shakes her gently. She mumbles something and tries to roll over so he shakes her again, a little harder, “You told me to wake you for the mid-watch.”

She wakes almost instantly, “Oh, I was dreaming. I’ll take the watch. I feel much better now, thanks.”

He watches her get up and takes her place by the fire. He lays there for a time, looking at her silhouette against the firelight before he rolls over and dozes off again.

She sighs, staring into the darkness, “How am I ever to win us through this place? What happens to Valen if I do not? Ye gods! I wonder if the Reaper can send him somewhere else, if I stay. We have been trapped in one of the Hells and I have unwisely called Valen to me. My reasons were selfish. I should not have called him here because I was alone and afraid. That really isn’t wise for a paladin. His blood makes him less welcome here than I am. I called Nathyrra and Deekin here for much the same reasons, but Nathyrra made me promise her that I would raise her if I could. Deekin…is Deekin. If anyone could be happy in Hell, it would be Deekin. Valen, though…I suppose that it’s better than letting Mephistopheles raise him as part of his undead army. I have not asked him where he went, when he died. Deekin certainly seemed to know. I wonder why he hasn’t mentioned it. Still, I would rather have him here than know that he was dead and not try to raise him.”

He wakes again when Morrighu comes to tell him that it’s time for his watch. She’s kneeling next to him, stroking his face gently. He reaches up and catches her hand, flipping it over. He kisses her palm tenderly before he pulls her into the bedroll with him.

She looks at him with big eyes, “What exactly did you have in mind?”

He grins, “Nothing, really, just a quick kiss before I take my watch.”

She sighs as he pulls her closer, half rolling so that his weight is mostly on his elbows as he hovers over her.

He sweeps her lips gently with his, “Mau Anwyliaid Unau.” His mouth finds hers and the kiss is almost unbearably tender and sweet. When he breaks away from her, he strokes her face, “Perhaps that will give you something to dream about, my love.”

She sighs, “Mau Anwylyd Rhai, I will win through this just to have you.”

He chuckles as he moves off to take his place on watch. She settles into the warm spot that he’s left her in the bedroll, watching him in the firelight. Soon enough, he’s waking her, grinning at her blinkingly sleepily in the wan sunlight.

She looks around, “Oh, good, it’s stopped snowing.”

She helps him pack up their makeshift camp and then goes to wake Nathyrra. Valen and Morrighu sit around the fire sipping tea as Nathyrra finishes packing up her bedroll.

When Nathyrra’s done, Morrighu hands her a cup of tea and slips the ring back on her finger. Once again, the world turns pink and arrows appear on the ground to point the way. This time though, they point at an outcrop of rock that’s been covered by an avalanche. Morrighu walks over to it and probes it experimentally with the tip of one of her blades.

She frowns, “Well, it’s mostly ice. I had hoped it would be snow, but it appears not to be.”

She looks at Valen, “Have you any ideas?”

He looks hesitant but she gestures for him to speak, “There is the crystal necklace that the Sensei dropped. Perhaps…perhaps the earth elemental form will be able to clear the path.”

Morrighu’s head cocks slightly as she considers his thought, “Perhaps it will have its uses after all.”

She uses the necklace and is transformed. She reaches out and tugs on the chunks of ice, but only comes away with a few handfuls. In frustration, she punches them and several of them shatter. Emboldened, she punches them again and more shatter this time. Soon the passage way is cleared. No sooner than it is cleared, she transforms back to herself.

She blinks for a moment, confused but Valen hugs her jubilantly, “You have done it! We have a path, my love.”

~*~

The bard looks puzzled as he signals for more ale, “I thought you said that she never told you how afraid she was. Yet, she tells you here that she is fearful.”

The tiefling laughs bitterly, “I still stand by my statement. I did not find out until long after that she truly did not expect to survive the path out of Cania. She made Nemhain swear to see us to safety if she fell. She told me she was afraid, she just never shared with me the full extent of her fear. She made sure that she seemed unruffled and resolute in both voice and manner at all times. None of us had any inkling that she was anything other than just a little worried. Even her worry was just enough to reassure us, so that we would not feel that she was being over confident.”

The bard is thoughtful, “She sounds like quite the leader.”

Valen nods, “That she is. Had she not been, do you think we’d have willingly followed her through the Hells?”

She turns sideways in his lap and he shifts slightly to accommodate her new position. She reaches up and pulls his hair tie out and begins to play idly in his hair. He is nearly purring in contentment when she pulls his head down to her, “I like you better without your hair pulled back so. You look so much less forbidding like this.”

He chuckles as he leans forward to kiss her adoringly, “Surely you know by now that I am more than enamored of you, my love. You should know better than to think me forbidding at all.”

When he’s done kissing her, he grins at her, “Bring me your brush and I will plait your hair for you.”

He watches her movements carefully as she stands and walks to the tent to fetch her brush from her pack and then return. He’s known for a long time that she doesn’t always reveal the full extent of her injuries to him. He’s pleased to note that she returns and sits on the ground in front him, before the fire, without any strain or flaw in her fluid movements. He carefully and gently brushes out her hair, delighted by the silky feel of it in his hands.

When he’s gotten all the tangles out, he begins to plait it. He grins to himself as he works scrupulously making sure that it will not come loose at some inopportune moment. He begins to sing softly as he works.

She can make out the melody but not the words so she stops him, “Wait…I know that I’ve heard that before. What is it that you sing?”

He laughs quietly, “I’m surprised you would remember it. You weren’t really awake either time. When we were waiting for you to return to yourself in Lith My’athar, I sang to myself to pass the time. When we were in the temple, I sang the same song to you there, while you thought you wandered on the Plains of the Dead. It’s a very old love song.” He sings a bit louder, so she can hear the words:

“Look on me ever, though thine eye

That murders where it glances.

lf by so happy means I die,

My fortune it advances.

And if by chance a tear you shed

To show my death did move you,

It will revive me, being dead,

And I again shall love you.

Redeem me from so deep despair;

The power you have, now try it.

Think me but fair, and I am fair,

Though all the world deny it”

As he finishes the song, he also finishes up plaiting her hair. He leans forward and whispers in her ear, “I have woven the braid together so that it will not come down. I do not wish to see your beautiful hair interfere with your swordplay.”

She looks up at him laughs, “I told Nathyrra that you were a closet romantic. You really are quite surprising at times, my very good Valen. No one, seeing you stomping about in your armor and barking orders in the fashion that you do, would ever suspect that such a warm and tender heart lay beneath the saturnine façade you present. You sing things to me and quote me poetry that would make a seasoned bard envious.”

He laughs, “I only do it because it makes you blush and you are truly lovely when you blush. Now, your watch is over. Off to bed with you. I will wake you in the morning.”

She stands obediently, but turns quickly and kisses his cheek before going to their tent. Valen sits staring into the fire and thinking as Morrighu drifts off to sleep. He caught just the tail end of her discussion with Nemhain, but it was enough to worry him. He’s been in the Hells enough to know that it weighs on some more heavily than others. Her lightness of spirit seems to have dimmed somewhat and he’s known for a while now that she’s been keeping something from him.

He’s seen a look on her face with increasing frequency that he’s come to associate with wanting to tell him something. He’s wondering how much her state of mind has deteriorated if the other Three are risking entrapment to offer her encouragement. He’s noticed that from time to time her smile seems to be pasted on instead of the genuine article. He’s also aware that she’s been unusually quiet of late.

These things, taken together, concern him greatly. The only other time the Three have taken an active role with her, they feared that she might take her own life. Added to his own concerns, he’s nearly overwrought on her behalf, though she lies in their shared bedroll asleep and blissfully unaware of his concerns. He means to have a word or two with her about in the morning and perhaps with Nathyrra as well.

He considers consulting the drow briefly but discards the idea. As affected as Morrighu has been by their stay in the Hells, the drow is far worse off. He fears for her sanity if they must be here much longer. The Blood Wars call to him, but so far the call has been faint and easily ignored. He’s been keeping a tight grip on the demon, knowing that it will not be able to resist the call for long, if at all.

Soon enough, the thin excuse for sunlight begins to touch the sky and Valen slips back into their tent. Morrighu smiles at him sleepily, “Good morning.”

He chuckles at bit at her as she rubs the sleep from her eye, “Good morning, my love. I wanted to remind you of a few things this morning. Thousands upon thousands of spirits have been trapped in Cania by Mephistopheles’ command. You, however, are well on your way to breaking his hold of you – a thing that no other in this place has managed. Through you diligent searching and refusal to give up, you have found a path out of Cania. What is it that you told me right before we announced that I had accepted the post at your patron-protector? “My path is laid out before me. All that is required of me is the resolve to walk it.” Strengthen your resolve then, my love. I would willingly be your prize, offing you everything you have asked of me and more as a reward for your resolve. Nathyrra needs you to be strong and sure. I suspect that her sanity hinges on it. I, however, have held you while you wept on my shoulder more than once. I am strong enough to bear up your uncertainty, your doubt, even your fear.” He looks into her eyes lovingly, “If you will confide in me, I would offer you shelter from far more than the driving wind of this place.”

A slow smile spreads across her face as she reaches for him, “And you wonder why I call you my very good Valen? Frightened? Of course I am.” She pulls him down next to her, “I would be foolish if I were not. For once, I have no plan to defeat an enemy I am engaged with. He has already won the first battle and is well on his way to winning the war. I do not know him well enough to make any predictions on his next gambit. He is also far more powerful than I had anticipated and I do not even know the limits of that power. How am I to come up with plan when I do not even know what I’m planning for? Furthermore, I have no ideas on how to shape the engagement or what sort of tactics he might be susceptible to. My only hope is that as we proceed through this accursed place, we will come across something that I can use to defeat him.”

Valen, now stretched out next to her, pulls her close, “My love, we will defeat this devil. I will help you. Even if we must meet him in combat, we will manage. You are my prize as much as I am yours. Make no mistake about it; you are the prize of the ages to me, my love.” He cups the back of her head tenderly and strokes her face lovingly as he leans forward to kiss her softly.

She sighs, “I cannot believe that you said that I should leave you behind – just abandon you in one of the Hells. I would hope that you would not leave me behind so easily.”

His face turns grim as Valen suddenly stares into her eyes. He reaches out with a rough hand and brushes her cheek, “I would never leave you willingly. If we were separated, I would storm the Nine Hells themselves or the Gates of the Heavens to bring you back to me, I swear it.”

Morrighu lays there transfixed by his gaze. Finally she sighs, “If you are going to make a declaration like that, it should be sealed with a kiss.”

Valen reaches forward and frames her face with his hands. Still looking into her eyes, he leans forward and kisses her passionately. When he’s done, he looks into her eyes again, “Have I not told you that there is more constancy in me than you give me credit for? You are my love. My heart is not easily or lightly given, but once it is given, it is steadfast and utterly devoted.”

She sighs, smiling, “I am well aware of that. Your dedication and devotion were two of things that drew me to you, in the beginning. It is one of the reasons that I call you ‘my very good Valen.’ I had hoped to claim some of that devotion for myself and it would seem that I have been successful, beyond anything I had originally hoped for. I cannot even be too angry with Mephistopheles, since it was his scheming that brought you to me.”

Valen chuckles, “My fidelity is yours unto my last breath… and beyond. You need not concern yourself with my devotion to you. It is yours for as long as I live or as long as you wish to have it. While I find your ability to forgive to be quite noble, I lack your capacity for this. I find that I hold Mephistopheles to be accountable for sending us here and I plan to make him pay for his kindness in doing this. While I might forgive him for something things, he threatens you and I cannot forgive him for that. I have sworn to put my life before yours and I fully intend to keep my oath. I will protect you as best as I am able from everything, including Mephistopheles.”

Morrighu sighs, nestled in his arms, “We must wake Nathyrra at some point.”

He smiles at her, “I will wake her when you are ready to face the day. I would rather not move on unless you are ready. You have had more than a few shocks to your system and there is no shame in needing time to recover from all of them. Half of any engagement is the morale of the troops, or in this case, your morale. That means that I must concern myself with your state of mind. If you need reassurance or comfort, I will do my best to provide it for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, I love you and would not see you distressed. Secondly, your mental state is vital to overcoming the obstacles we face. Thirdly, we must save Toril – so many are depending on us to find a way. By the same token, I will not sugar coat what we face lest you loose faith in the things I tell you.”

She laughs quietly, “I trust you. I cannot imagine not trusting you. While it was difficult for me to surrender command, I followed you through Vix’thra’s temple, trusting you to lead me. I did not even know what was real and what was not. All could do was follow you, letting your reactions, or not, to the things I saw guide me. How much more must I trust you than that?”

He chuckles softly, “I suppose that is indeed sufficient, my love. Are you sufficiently comforted? Or shall I provide some additional consolation?”

She looks at him roguishly, “That depends on what sort of consolation you intend to offer me. I might be more amenable to some forms of consolation than others.”

He unsuccessfully stifles a grin, and then laughs out loud, “You are a very wicked woman, Morrighu. And I mean that in a good way.”

She bats her eyes at him, “I adore the way you kiss me.”

He pulls her closer, “Then come here and let me comfort you, my love.”

His lips sweep gently over her chin, her cheeks, her eyelids before coming to rest on her lips, pulling at them delicately. He feels her respond to him as she seems to melt in his arms, conforming to him as his embraces pulls her even closer. She sighs into the tenuous and ethereal kiss and her response kindles his need as he seeks to offer her the comfort she desires. He releases a little of his restraint and the kiss quickly intensifies, becoming more passionate. His mouth locks over hers, unrelenting and ravenous. He’s amazed and gratified at the ease that she abandons herself to him utterly.

He sighs and finally breaks off, “That’s enough comfort for you for now.” She makes a small noise of protest, but he lays a finger on her lips, “Hush, now. You know that my restraint only goes so far. Besides, as you pointed out earlier, we need to wake Nathyrra.”

She pouts for a moment, “I know. I just enjoy my private moments with you. We seem to have so few and even those must be stolen – carved out between watches or granted by some delay.”

He grins at her, “You will have the rest of your life to have a surfeit of my attentions, my love. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go and wake Nathyrra. If we plan to leave this place, we must be on our way.”

She nods and releases him. He rolls out of the tent and goes to Nathyrra’s tent. Grinning, he reaches out, shakes the tent pole, and then watches with amusement as the drow scrambles out of the tent, dagger drawn.

Nathyrra rolls her eyes at the much amused Valen, “You might at least have said it was morning. I may have to wake you some time, in a similar fashion.”

Valen shrugs, still grinning, “If you wish. I thought you should know that she is much recovered and we will be pushing onward today. As nearly as I can tell, we have a long climb ahead of us, since we must go up those cliffs.”

Morrighu rolls out of the tent and sits by the fire, munching on a journey cake. Valen begins to pack up their campsite, carefully dismantling the tents. While he works, Morrighu gestures for Nathyrra to join her at the fire.

Morrighu turns to Nathyrra, “While this is not the surface of Toril, it is a surface of sorts. There is sun and sky, overcast as it has been thus far. There are the cycles of day and night. I have been meaning to ask you what you think of it.”

Nathyrra looks frightened suddenly, “I try…I try not to think of it. It is most…disconcerting. I can see such a long way and there is so much emptiness. At least in the Underdark, there were shadows to hide in.”

Morrighu nods, “It takes some getting used to. I had planned to take you to a forest, first and let you get used to that first. The trees provide cover and shade so they might have made a nice transition for you. I would imagine that it will take you as much getting used to this as I had to the constant darkness and oppression in the Underdark.”

Nathyrra nods but still looks unsettled. Morrighu finishes up her breakfast and goes to help Valen finish packing. With the camp packed and the gear stowed, Morrighu puts the ring back on.

She points, “We must go up there.”

She walks to the base of the cliff and moves along it, looking for a good place to start. Finally, she finds what she seeks and begins climbing the ice-covered wall. Valen grimaces but heads up behind her. He’s not even certain that it is wise to attempt a climb up a sheer rock face covered in ice while wearing full heavy armor. He watches as she scales the ice wall ahead of him, making painstaking progress so as not to loose her grip or be knocked loose by the driving wind.

At midday they are only about half way up the wall. He sees that she’s growing tired but there is no where to rest so her pace slows further.

He manages to move up the face beside her, “My love, give me your pack. I can easily manage both while we climb and it will save your strength.”

Morrighu nods and passes him her pack, which he carefully adds to his own. She continues up the rock face, creeping foreword as best as she is able.

Around mid-afternoon, she looks over at him and sighs heavily, “I do not know if I will be able to make it.”

He looks up, squinting to judge the distance, “Morrighu, we are rather near the top. I know that you have rope in your pack. If you think you can hold here, I will climb up and drop you a rope so I can pull you up.”

Defeated, she nods and clings more tightly to the cliff face. Valen climbs past her and heads carefully for the top. He peers over top of the cliff, looking for any kind of a handhold and spots another Ice Troll. The troll hasn’t seen him yet, so he quickly scrambles up. By the time the troll hears him and starts to turn, Valen’s flail is already in a full down stroke aimed squarely at his head. Morrighu has heard the sounds of combat and is climbing as quickly as she is able when a rope plops into her upturned face.

She takes hold of it and Valen drags her bodily up the cliff. He sees to Morrighu’s safety, pulling her away from the edge before peering down at Nathyrra, who is still climbing. He throws the rope down to her as well and soon the trio is gathered at the top of the cliff. Valen begins coiling the rope back up so that it can be stowed away while Morrighu prowls the area, investigating.

She looks at him, “This is a sentry outpost for these trolls. I’m certain that there are more of them nearby.” She turns to Nathyrra, “Will you scout around? I’d rather not stumble into them.”

Nathyrra nods and begins casting concealment spells on herself before disappearing into the whiteness. Valen finishes up with her pack and hands it back to her. She puts it back on and makes a few quick adjustments the straps.

While they’re waiting for Nathyrra to return, she stretches and yawns, “I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m going to take a hot bath and then sleep for a week.”

He chuckles, but looks at her more closely and sees that she looks tired.

He puts a consoling arm around her shoulders, “You’ve not had a proper rest in ages. I don’t know what Undermountain was like for you, but I suspect that it cannot have been easy. You more or less hit the ground running in the Underdark and now we find ourselves here. The one night you had to sleep at the tavern, we spent otherwise occupied. We’ll take a long rest tonight.”

She starts to protest but then nods and leans her head against his chest, resting a bit while they wait. He looks down at her, concerned now not only over her state of mind but the constant drain on her stamina. They’ve been on the move almost constantly for many weeks now. Not since she first arrived in the Underdark have they spent two nights in a row in the same place. Inside his helm, he chews his lip thoughtfully and considers how best to help her.

The only thing that he can think of is to find better shelter and let her rest for a day or two. If they have to face the arch-devil in combat, she will need all of her strength to overcome him. He sees how she pushes herself because she feels driven to confront Mephistopheles as soon as possible. The longer she takes the more havoc the devil wreaks.

Soon Nathyrra returns to them, “There are more trolls ahead and a pack of worgs. There is a big bowl shaped depression though, and it even has a fire pit. Once the worgs and trolls are defeated, we’ll be able to camp out of the wind, at least.”

Valen nods as he looks down at Morrighu, “Are you ready, my love?”

She sighs and stands back up, un-sheathing her blades. She lets Nathyrra lead them toward the trolls. They make good progress since the ice crust is thicker on the top of the cliff. It’s not very often that they break through, unless they’re near the edge. In short order, they’re confronted by the trolls. Morrighu charges into the attack, throwing herself viciously at the trolls. Valen rolls his eyes and moves in beside her as they flank the trolls, mowing through the first three or four easily.

Valen begins to relax a bit, seeing that there is some sense to Morrighu’s attack strategy. The last couple proves a bit more difficult, but finally the snow is stained red with their blood. Morrighu stands there, panting with her blades dripping gore as she looks around for the worg pack. One of the darker colored ones makes the mistake of moving out from behind the snow bank which had been concealing it. Morrighu spots it and runs toward it. As the beast leaps for her throat, she brings her blades up, skewing it.

The weight of the beast is too much for her though, and overbalanced, she falls backward. A few of the remaining worgs, drawn by the scent of blood, begin to close in. Valen sprints toward her, but the worgs are closing faster than he is. She struggles, trapped beneath the beast’s weight, as the rest of the pack begins circling her warily.

Tags: Stars, Story

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