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Bruckner stepped through the aperture in the stone wall that he and his companions had created, drawing his sword, and raising his shield. The great cavern spread out before his feet, 30 feet below. The only means of approach was a series of harsh switchbacks cut into the ancient stone of Elessbore.

The cavern echoed with King Janessin’s wails as a tall, spindly devil with a forked beard and eyes of yellow fire slammed him down atop the sacramental altar. The Succubus shrieked with laughter as she held pinned one of the monarch’s wrist, her long cruel nails coaxing drops of scarlet blood from the royal forearm.

A swarm of small winged demonic figures, shrunken, hideous creatures with smeared and sneering faces, took to the air, winging towards the three adventurers.

Bruckner leapt from the top switchback, rolling as he landed on a ledge 15 feet below. He nearly rolled off of that one to the floor below, but dug the edge of his shield against a spur of rock, halting his descent. He pulled himself to his feet in time to stab his sword through a leathery wing. The vicious, fanged creature slid screaming down the blade, his teeth snapping furiously inches from Bruckner’s face. He bellowed and swung the sword hard, cleaving through the forewing bone, and sending the wretch crashing to the ground below.

“Here!” Tadalac shouted from above, flicking a globule of shimmering black energy at Nima. It hit her in the chest, and the room contracted as if the whole of the cavern had inhaled abruptly.

“The spaces are woven together now, Nima! Can you see the holes?”

And indeed, the half-elf could, for honeycombed now through the empty extension about here were hidden paths, and swift shortcuts. She stepped through one such, emerging onto the cavern floor, a mere thirty paces from the hellions preparing their unholy sacrament.

She loaded a bolt as the succubus finished tying off one of the king’s hands, and fired it at the spindle-thin devil, striking him in the shoulder. Black blood dripped from the wound as he roared, and where it fell, the stone underfoot smoked.

Bruckner took the downward path in great strides, cleaving a second imp through the waist. The two halves of the once-whole creature whirled through the air, the blood splattering in wide, lazy circles.  As Bruckner made it around the last bend, and began  the final ascent to the floor of this infernal cathedral, the tall, bearded Devil appeared before him in a plume of pale red fire, a long glaive upheld to strike. Bruckner raised his shield, but was not fast enough to stop the serrated edge, which caught him on the thigh, cutting through the swordsman’s leather to bite into flesh. Blood began to pour from the wound.  

The Succubus was tying down the last of the king’s flailing limbs. The remaining swordsman, charred into near oblivion by Tadalac’s fireball, rose slowly, and began to walk, still lit up here and there by tongues of flickering flame eating at his flesh, leapt 30 feet to crash in front of Nima, bringing a fiery sword down with an inhuman howl. Nima slipped through a cleft in reality, and emerged behind him. She drew her dagger and plunged it into his back. The thing burst apart in an explosion of brimstone that sent Nima sprawling, coughing and retching as sulfur filled her lungs.

Tadalac yelped as the Bearded Devil struck Bruckner, calling out: "I'm coming, Ox!", running and leaping off of the first ledge onto the patch directly below.  He landed poorly, falling heavily on his side, but picked himself up painfully, and hobbled forward, whirling his hand and calling out in one of the heavenly tongues. A bright crackle of light appeared behind the tall devil, and an angelic bear was suddenly there, with a bright white roar. It leapt upon the fiend, slashing deep with sidereal claws, and ripping a dripping haunch of flesh from his side with its mighty fangs.

Her head spinning, and her tongue thick with mephitic ash, Nima crawled through a gap in corporeal space, emerging next to Tadalac, still winded from his fall. She patted his arm, and then loosed another bolt at the devil locked in combat with Bruckner and the bear.
It whirred towards him, but he swung his weapon with impossible speed, batting the missile away.

Bruckner stepped back as the devil whirled to deal with the bear, tying a swift tourniquet about his upper thigh to try and stem the flood of blood—the wound was unnatural somehow, as if infected by the evil of the one who had inflicted it. The blood slowed, but did not stop. Bruckner managed to slash out at a third flying demon, catching it glancingly along the lower leg. It careened to the side, circling back to bear down upon Bruckner with a thin, barbed spear, but was blasted out of the sky by a beam of crystal light, and crashed into a shatter of bloody quartz on the ground.

The Bearded Devil turns and swiped at the bear, opening its stomach to reveal the starlight inside.

King Janessin was putting up a fight. He managed to connect with a thrashing foot, kicking the Succubus in the stomach and sending her momentarily to the ground. She rose with such scream that even the other devils cowered, and slashed four long rakes down the king’s chest and belly.

The celestial bear and the infernal man continued their dance, taking pieces off of one another with each swipe, strike, or bite.

Tadalac picked up a pebble, kissed it with a whisper, and slung at towards an imp diving towards him. The little stone ballooned into a boulder as it flew, catching the imp and smashing him up into the ceiling. He snatched his healing wand in his hand, and grabbed Nima around the leg. “We need to get to Bruckner!” he called, and Nima carried him through the void to the swordsman’s side.

Bruckner was growing faint; his blood was pooling at his feet. He swung at the devil before him, opening his side, and then Nima and Tadalac were beside him.

Tadalac plucked his healer’s wand from his sack and pressed it to Bruckner's wound, closing it. Bruckner’s face was white as a ghost, but he stayed on his feet, weakened but no longer dying.

"Thanks, Tadalac,” Bruckner said, before raising his sword to bat at a wheeling imp, shearing off a barbed tail and cloven hoof.

“You can't go dying on Tadalac.  We have devils to kill!"  The little gnome seemed very ferocious in the midst of the raging battle.

“We must get to the king!” Bruckner bellowed, ducking under an arrow loosed from a minon’s bow, and turning to race towards the altar where the Succubus was now lashing down the king’s final free limb.

The spindle-legged devil put his cruel glaive through the belly of the bear, which cried out in tones like dying starlight. It gave one last mighty bite, to the demon’s face, before disappearing like a puff of vapor.

Bleeding from puncture wounds through the skull, the tall demon turned in a frenzy throwing his weapon in a long spinning arc that caught Bruckner on the calves, bringing painfully down on his back.

Tadalac raised a hand and sent a ray of flame at the Succubus, striking her in chest and setting her gossamer thin robes ablaze. She screamed as the fire took her, and fell rolling to the ground. The king was sobbing and begging for aid.

The fork-bearded devil, now weaponless, turned to Nima and roared with a mouth full of hellfire. Nima aimed her crossbow at the devil's forehead, sending a bolt between his eyes; he dropped dead to the floor with a long gravelly growl, twitched, then lay still.

The Succubus, meanwhile had rushed back to the side of the altar, angry boils showing on her pale white skin, tattered shreds of burning garment sending up smoke like incense before an ordained sacrificed. She pulled a long curved black dirk from a sheath on her waist, and began to raise it above her head; her heads tilts back wildly and she begins ululating in violent, frightful tones, the blade still slowly rising.

"Come on Ox, she's going to kill him!" Tadalac cried. He raised a hand to cast a spell, but was tackled to the ground by a frenzied imp, and the two tumbled across the floor, wrestling and tearing at each other.

Bruckner dashed from where he stood to run towards the Succubus, who was still raising the knife above Janessin, forming terrible syllables with her forked tongue. A dark energy began to encircle the altar, and the king’s screams grew yet wilder and more panicked.

She brought the knife down. Bruckner slashed out, straining with the tip of his sword in a wild arc, and batted the black dagger from the she-devil’s hand. She whirled and her face transformed into a landscape of hate and rage, her fair features melting to reveal a witch-visage, all the fair white skin sloughing off a smashed and moldering face in liquid rivulets of false flesh. Bruckner opened her stomach with a forehand slash.

She screamed as the blood flowed, and she turned to flee. Bruckner slashed after her, but his blade bit only the empty air.

Nima took aim at the final imp, wrestling with Tadalac, and put a bolt in the back of its neck. Tadalac pushed the dead wretch off of him, and emerged, bloodied but not seriously hurt.

The Succubus had reached the far end of the cavern, and was climbing uncertainly up the sheer wall with bizarre, inhuman gestures.

Janessin meanwhile was sobbing loudly, and straining wildly against his bonds.  He began to shout to Bruckner, who stood on one side of the altar, saying,

"Quick lad! Release me!  Do it boy, I command you!  Get me OUT!!!!"

The young swordsman made haste to quickly sever the king's bonds with your dagger; the disgraced monarch dropped to the floor, covering his shae with his robes, and grasped Bruckner’s arm.  

"Thank you lad!  You and your companions are most brave!  That she-devil!  Why, the witch ensnared me!  Go kill her!  She is a danger to all of Sevahr!"

Bruckner turned after the fleeing succubus, saw her reach a ledge some twenty-five feet off of the floor, her hand reaching up to grasp the outcropping side.  Before her fingers could curl around the ridge of rock, however, a flash of steel glinted, reflecting the firelight, and the hand of the Succubus disappeared, her wrist suddenly a stump spouting black-red blood.  She screamed; a horrifying hellish sound, and fell to the ground, flailing, her sinuous form crunching into the rock below.  Seconds later a coruscating field of lightning blasted into her broken body, and her scream grew until the sound began to fragment, breaking into static strains of madness.

The Succubus was moaning her last, bleeding out on the rock floor.  She began to murmur in abyssal, blood pouring out of her mouth and severed wrist. Then she died, blood and bile trickling from her lips. Above, a figure stepped into the light, standing on the edge of the rock ledge above.  It was the woman from the tavern in Thorn, dark, snaking facial tattoos crawling over her cheekbones, and a huge falchion, dripping black blood, held within likewise tattooed hands.  On both sides of her stood figures wreathed in vivid red robes.

“See what has transpired…”

The woman's voice boomed around the cavern, causing Janessin to drop to his knees, quivering.  
"How disappointing..." 
she says, her voice like the slither of a snake.  "The summoning is a failure."  Her eyes travelled over the three heroes, then lingered on Janessin.  "How sweet to have shed the blood of this one, too..."  Her eyes then lock on Bruckner, before darting to Nima, then back.  "You infants are involving yourself in dangers unbefitting those so pure.  You would do best to go home."  She turned, the red-robed figures in lock-step to do the same, and they disappeared into the swallowing dark.

"Do you know that woman, your majesty?"

The king started, and looked up at the youth, still shaken, and blurted out,

"Who, me!?  Why, I've never seen the beastly creature!  Now quick, we must away and back to Emmenia!"  He keeps rambling, apparently still quite shaken.

Tadalac tugged on the hem of Bruckner's shirt, and whispered to him,

"This is the King, Ox?  He's not very impressive, is he?"

"I think we should return. The King and I are both hurt, and all of us need rest. We also promised to help that old gnome out of here."

Nima looked on the fat, shivering king, and murmured to Bruckner, "Personally, I'm inclined to helping only the old merchant, and leaving this ungrateful old sod behind...But I suppose the king might become more generous when he gets his wits back.  Also, one of us should probably try pumping him for information, maybe after we've had a chance to rest."

“Tadalac, you should see to the king’s wounds,” Bruckner said, and the gnome nodded.

“It’ll spend the last of the healer’s wand, but I suppose we must.”

Bruckner made a swift sweep of the room, finding little of interest beyond the dagger dropped by the Succubus, as well as a small, locked chest set against a far wall.  

Nima perused the bodies of the deceased; she found a bag containing many fine platinum coins on the Succubus; the witch-woman was also wearing two gold bangles set with fine-cut gemstones.  The charred swordsman left behind a singed set of steel plate armor, and the spindle-legged devil wore what looks to be a necklace made of human teeth.  The figure who had been painting the elaborate symbol wore a golden ring set with a red stone, but nothing else of value.

“Do you want to try to open the locked chest? I'm wary about taking a weapon from the succubus, which is likely to be evil or cursed. The armor is no use to us.”

Bruckner pocketed the tooth necklace, saying “I will bury this once we are out of this unholy place. I think we should split the coins between us, and give some to the ur-gnome.”  

Nima nodded vaguely at Bruckner's suggestions, unconsciously reaching for the necklace of teeth.  When Bruckner announced his intentions of burying the find, she made a show of not have noticed it, and took instead the golden ring.  "What do you make of this?" I ask Tadalac, tossing him the ring.   "These look expensive," she said, pocketing the Succubus' bangles.   

"Does this mean something to you?" Bruckner asked Nima, holding out the tooth necklace.

She gave Bruckner an embarrassed smile.  "My first instinct was that it would serve well as a trophy to inspire fear in my enemies.  But that instinct was the result of certain tendencies of mine that I think I would like to unlearn.  So I will follow your example and eschew this ornament."

Nima picked up the long, cruel dagger that the Succubus had wielded. “What of this knife?” she asked Tadalac.

"This dagger is filled with evil magic, little sister.  I don't think we should use it." With that, he unceremoniously tossed it over his shoulder; it clanged loudly to the ground.  He next examined the ring set with the red stone, and said, "hmmm, this has some sort of magic in it, and it doesn't seem evil, but I can't tell what it does.  When we rest I will prepare a spell to determine its secrets!" he smiles brightly.

Nima was unable to open the lock; the mechanism appeared to be quite complex.  Tadalac, meanwhile, was studying the pattern on the floor that was being painted by the man Nima took out with her crossbow.  

"This is a devil's symbol," he announced.  "They were going to kill you" he says, pointing at the king, "probably in order to summon some dark and terrible things.  They say there's power in a king's blood."  Janessin looked flustered and pulls his robe around him more tightly.  

"Get me out of here!" he nearly shrieked, "before more of them arrive!"

Guarding the shaken and exhausted monarch, the three headed back to the ur-gnome’s cavern; he sat still right where they had left him, reading through a heavy and aged tome.  His face cracked into a wide smile of relief when he saw the group, though it darkened at the sight of King Janessin.  He beckoned Bruckner and Nima over; Janessin meanwhile is settling himself down, puffing mightily after the long walk through the twisting caverns.  Quietly, the ancient underdweller said,

"That one was with the devils; I saw him myself.  He was entranced by a terrible Succubus; obviously taken with disgusting lust for her.  I think he is an enemy; why is it you have let him live?"

"He was under the demon's spell. The demon is dead now, and he is free of her. If there is anything else for which he has to answer, that is not for us to determine. How can we best return you to your people?"

The old gnome appeared partially pacified by Bruckner's answer, but kept a wary eye on King Hector all the same.  At the mention of his people he sighs a great sad sigh.  

"My people here are all dead" he said in a hollow voice. "I will come with you back to your town, and from there try and strike southward to the lands beneath the Lovathal mountains, where I have some distant kin.  That is, if you will allow me to accompany you a short way on your journey.  I fear I am too old and frail to make it on my own."

Bruckner took first watch. Tadalac relieved him after a few hours, and Bruckner fell gratefully asleep.

After what feels like only a moment of rest, the three were jerked awake by a voice yelling, "Bruckner!  Nima!  Where are you two!?"; a loud, boisterous bass voice (that sounded familiar, rolling through the caverns.  It sounded quite close; perhaps just a hundred feet down the tunnel or so.  As the voice jarred them awake, a black shape fluttered into the cavern; it was Canary, who swooped down to perch on Nima's shoulder.

Bruckner rose, sword and shield ready. "Toril?" he shouted. 

A big, bellowing laugh erupted from down the tunnel.  "Aye lad!" the voice called cheerily.  The laughter continued, and within a few moments he arrived in the entrance (nearly filling it, with his huge frame), with five armed men behind him.  They were all carrying torches, and the room was suddenly filled with firelight.  Toril boomed out,

"You two gave us a quite a scare!  We got your letter and damned if we didn't didn't think you were leaping into the gaping maw of death!  Hahaha!" he laughed heartily at this.  "Damn glad to see you two alive and well.  And is that!" his eyes narrowed, and focused on Tadalac.  Tadalac meanwhile had been gathering himself into a crouch, and suddenly, as Toril's eyes fell upon him, launched himself at the big man, leaping up and tackling him (or  as near as a gnome can tackle a large human).  They both began laughing uproariously, Toril crying out, "Ah Tadalac, you little maniac!  What in the name o' Baldric’s beard you doin' with these two?”

Tadalac, panting, dropped to the ground, saying.  

"Tadalac is keeping them safe, fatty.  What are you doing here?"  He patred Toril's prodigious belly, saying, "You've grown even wider since last we met!"  Toril roared with laughter, sending Tadalac sprawling with a playful backhand.  

"Ah you little devil" he crowed.  Suddenly he took in the figure of King Janessin, who had pulled himself into a corner of the cave.  He grew instantly serious, and turned to Bruckner and Nima, asking, "You found 'im, eh?"  He immediately signaled to his men; two of them leapt into action, grabbing the king and forcing him to his feet; he began shrieking in protest, pitifully attempting to fight off the two men.  "Hector Janessin", Toril stated in a stone-cold voice, "Under the order of Lord General Aleksander and the authority of the Royal Council of the Lords of Sevahr, I am clapping you in irons, to be delivered to the Lords for trial and judgment."  The King broke down as the manacles were strapped on, and stopped fighting.  He began to weep.  "Take him back to the main camp for now" Toril said to the men holding him.  "Get him some new clothes, and see he's fed and kept safe."  The two men marched him out; his wails continuing to reverberate down the passageway.

Toril heaved a great sigh, and dropped to the ground.  Only now did he notice the old ur-gnome, whom he bowed to slightly, and a bit confusedly.  He turned to the two of you.  

"Well?"  he said.  "You two have performed most admirably! Or should I say you three! What happened?  Tell me everything."

Bruckner told him the whole tale, highlighting their gambit with the trolls, and inquiring about the status about the orc army that was massing outside the mountain. He also stressed that the King was, as far as they could tell, bewitched, and not acting voluntarily.  He asked also if Toril knew anything about the identity of the tattooed woman who had killed the succubus. 

"I suppose "bewitched" is one way of describing it..." Nima murmured.

Toril stroked his beard as he listened to the tale, nodding occasionally.  He burst out with a gleeful profanity when Bruckner told about the trolls, chuckling for a full minute afterwords.  When the youth finished, Toril said, "Well damned if you all haven't had one hell of an adventure!  Damn sorry I missed it, truth be told."  He pulled out a wine-skin and took a long pull, then offers it to Bruckner.

"Well, like I said, you two done fine, damn fine work by the General.  He'll be right pleased."  He leaned in closer, and says, "He was  a bit...well, I guess, dubious about you two.  Said he thought your spirits was in the right place, but that you may be too inexperienced for real service.  That's why he sent you on this mission; thought it'd be a routine check of some local trouble, like.  No way he knew that this'd be the spot the King'd run off to.  Hah!  Why he'll be right surprised, I should think.  Surprised and pleased!  I told him you two had the fire in yeh!"  

He said, thumping Bruckner hard on the arm, smiling warmly at Nima, and pulling Tadalac into a half nelson.  "I'm damn proud of all three of ya!"  Tadalac shot a small bolt of electricity from one of his fingers into Toril's arm, who bellowed, and freed him; they both then collapsed into gales of laughter.  Toril, once recovered from his mirth, said, "Though I gotta side with the lady here" (he gestures at Nima) "about that so-called 'King'.  Seems to me that man weren't bewitched, except by lust.  Why that fool weren't under no spell save that cast by his loins."  He spat angrily against the wall.  "That King of ours was willing to plunge the whole region into war 'cause he fell under a Succubus' spell.  Damn shameful, that.  Damn shameful."

He stood up, stretching, and yawning slightly.  "Well," he said.  "I'd say you all have earned a spot of rest, and a hot meal.  Come on, and let's make back for camp.  You're welcome to join us, old fellow," he said kindly to the Svirfneblin.  "You all ready to go?”

The group helped the ancient gnome to pack up his belongings; they all fit magically into a wooden basket he wore on his back that was built like a tiny armoire with leather straps for his arms. It opened up into several drawers, cabinets, and cubby holes which received all of his goods.  Soon the heavy bags and many boxes, and even the cart itself, had been folded up tidily and stored away. "Magic is a curious thing."

They all began the ascent out of the cave, walking stiffly and painfully from the recent battle.

On their way out, Nima asked the ur-gnome his name.

He gave a real smile then, and said "I am called Mordecai.  And what is your name, young one?"

"Nima.  Uh...it's nice to meet you," she said awkwardly.  "Thanks for the gifts.” She smiled at Mordecai, and then caught up with Bruckner, and put a question to him.

"You seem concerned about the king.  Do you really think that what happened wasn't his fault?"

"I don't know. Magic is strange. It can make a man do any manner of things he might not want. It can make a man want things he would not otherwise favor. It can make a man not know what he wants or what he does. Would a King harm his people? Would a King want to harm his people? Would a King act like a foolish boy over the ordinary temptations of a woman?"

"A good king would not, but how do we know that he is a good king?  Isn't it more reasonable to assume that he isn't, given that he HAS done these things you are pointing out?"

"I will not impugn the honor of a King without need. I do not know what was in the King's heart, but I know what a demon is and what magic they can do." Nima considered this, then shrugged. 

"Anyway, what I really wished to ask about were your plans.  Upon our return, I mean.  If you don't mind telling me, that is."

"I will see if General Aleksandr has more work. If not, then the same as before, I think: I will find some way to develop my skills as a swordsman. What about you?"

As they discussed, the group emerged from the final antechamber cavern, all three blinking to reach the upper, sunlit world. It was midday.  The desert all about the base of Mt Elesborre was scattered with the corpses of orcs; the trolls they released were dead as well, their remains smoldering into giant piles of hot ash.  Toril had brought a contingent of some 300 cavalrymen; neat rows of tents were set up a fair distance from the dead bodies, which were being piled up and burned in neat, orderly rows.  The acrid smell of foul burnt flesh filled the air.  

Toril directed the group to an adjutant, who took them to a nearby tent. Toril remained, hearing reports, and giving orders

"Well, you three are quite the heroes of the day!  I'm sure the General will be awaiting your report, and the Lords as well.  General Aleksander indicated that if and when we found the king, we were to convene at Eltuhlich for the lady of Eltuhlich, Nessellia Carollo and the Lords to assess the situation and decide upon a course of action.  Seeing as how it's you to that found him, I've no doubt they'll want to hear your testimony as to the nature of the King's actions.  No doubt there's more work for you as well, and payment of course, for services rendered. No doubt you're tired though.  Come, there's some tents you can take your rest in.  We will head for Eltuhlich on the morrow, if you're willing.  It's a journey that will take several days."

Tadalac said,

"I'm not tired.  I need to use my detection spell to track my pony, Justicebringer, and your horses.  We can't just leave them out here alone! Luckily they're close by.  Toril, you want to help me find them?"  Toril grinned,

"I'd love to old friend, but I've too much to do keeping these louts" he gestures at his men at large, "in line.  You can take a scout with you if you'd like."  

He sets off with one of Toril's scouts, returning within an hour, with the animals in tow. Mordecai, who seemed ill-suited to the daytime sun, took a cot inside their tent and fell swiftly asleep.

Bruckner went in search of a healing tent. Inquiring of some soldiers, he soon located it-a pavilion with a bright yellow flag streaming in the breeze in front of it, emblazoned with the sun-symbol of Virian, god of light and health.  Inside one of the clerics helps you out of your breastplate, and pressing his hand to the deep wound left by the Bearded Devil, he begins to pray softly, in Celestial.  You feel a pleasant heat, and the wound closes.  He heals your other wounds in like manner; one of his young pages meanwhile has scrubbed the blood off of your armor, and presents it to you after the cleric is finished, burnished and shining like new.  

Bruckner washed the blood and grime of battle off of his skin, and the page did his best to clean up Bruckner’s clothing. He dressed feeling as refreshed as one might expect on a recently still field of battle. He arrived back at their tent to find Nima likewise washed, and wearing a fresh outfit of dark blue, and Tadalac, returned with the animals.

Nima, meanwhile, had been considering how to answer Bruckner’s question about her intentions for the immediate future. She finally said,

"I am in search of good works to perform.  So I suppose I will go wherever it appears there is something good to be done.  I cannot sound more eager about it; it would not be correct to say that I feel anything like eagerness or even willingness regarding this purpose.  I'm afraid I lack the trust in the deservedness of others that you seem to possess, and which would make these efforts palatable.  But past events have drawn me to the conclusion that it might be in my best interests to break with my long habit of concern only for myself and my own survival."  

She gave a wry smile, aware of the bit of contradiction in that last statement, and then continued.  

"Unfortunately, I don't seem to have much of a natural grace in the art of good deeds.  I mentioned to you my unfortunate last attempt, which landed me in prison.  It was for this reason that I asked you about the king--I am afraid that, if what you suspect is correct, I have once again thwarted my own efforts at doing a service to another by delivering him so readily to those who might perhaps deal him damage, without questioning whether or not I ought to have done."  

"I fear that may be so. The demoness did not choose the King by chance, and she would not have been able to take him without help from those close to the court. I said that I don't know if Janessin is a good man or a bad one, but he is a King, and a man's duty is to serve his King, if he can. Those who will not serve have no honor. Those who would betray their King hate honor. Janessin is not my King, but I could not find it in my heart to abandon any King to such people. But we do not know yet what will be asked of us, and I doubt the King's fate will be left in our hands, if it ever was. Look, here's Toril."

Toril arrived not long after the group supped on roast venison and onions, to sit with them a spell. They gathered around a campfire, and Toril began puffing away on a massive ironwood pipe. He revealed a roll of cloth containing three smaller pipes and a leather bag of tobacco, offering it around to the group. Bruckner and Tadalac each took a pipe; Nima demurred.

"Well, Janessin ain't talking."  He said.  "We've put him up in a nice pavilion, men are being gentle with him--he's still a king after all--but he won't say a word about what he's been up to.  I put a few questions to him--polite, like--but he wouldn't have none of it."  He shrugs.  "Just as well, I s'pose.  Ain't my place anyway.  I wonder what the General'll make of all this.  He's more of a thinking man than I am."  He laughs heartily at that.  "Anyhow, I reckon we'll know soon enough."  He looks at the two of you for a time, seemingly thinking, then says, "Most like it's time I told you outsiders about the broader play of things here in Sevahr.  It ain't exactly pretty.  Don't know how much you know as yet, but," he shrugs, "given as we're going to Eltuhlich, you'd better be prepared."

"I hate Eltuhlich!" Tadalac burst in unexpectedly, a surprisingly angry expression on his little face.  Toril nodded seriously, "As well you should Tadalac.  You'll have to keep a low profile there."  Tadalac said, "Tadalac is not afraid of those bigots!"

By way of explanation Toril turned to Bruckner and Nima,

"The people of Eltuhlich are... well, mad, truth be told.  Lots of 'em worship Deimos, and there’s no shortage of acolytes of Keres. And the bloodsports—well, they’re more ritual than sport for most. Also, they don't take to kindly to wizards and sorcerers there.  The King of the city, Sazarkand, well..." he leans closer.  "He's a red dragon.  You didn't hear this from me, but he's a dangerous, evil sort His advisor, Ness Carollo is running things right now; Sazarkand's been gone for the past year or so, no one knows where.  Coldcreek ain't bad; it was her who talked Sazarkand into lifting the ban on magic-users in the city.  She's fair-minded enough, though what her true intentions are, I don't know."  

"The General's trying to avoid civil conflict in Sevahr, see?  Keep everyone placated so's to avoid all out war.  But with all the dust kicked up in Emennia by Janessin's madness, or enchantment, or whatever it was, that's getting difficult.  The Elts are on edge, and the other cities of the region are worried what might happen should Sazarkand return.  I know you two saved Janessin, and you done a right good thing.  I also know the General's going to do what he can to avoid regicide.  That's where we'll need your testimony.  But like as not, Janessin won't ever sit the throne again."  He shrugs again, shooting out twin jets of grey smoke from his nostrils, shaking his head.  "But, what do I I know?"

Bruckner asked Toril how he thought the Succubus could have gotten so close to the king in the first place. Toril looked surprised, as if he hadn’t considered it.

“Good questions, lad, good questions."  He ruminates for a moment.  "Like as not, it'd be tough getting into the castle, near enough the King to seduce or enchant him.  You reckon she had help? “

"I suppose we will learn more soon enough. Is there something to eat? I am famished."

After the sun set, Toril passed around a skins of very strong wine. After a few drinks, Tadalac hopped up on Toril's shoulders and began singing a song entitled "The barefoot gnome and the gnome-footed bear", a very silly affair that ended with him dumping a second skin of wine over Toril's head.  Many of the soldiers were gathered around, and at this they all roared with laughter, crowding around to thump Tadalac on the back.  Toril himself was laughing so hard that he could not stand.

They all turned in for the night after the merriment.

The next morning, the three victorious heroes woke to the sound of a morning trumpet reveille. They roused themselves, performed their morning necessaries and ablutions, and began to gear up for the day’s march.

"Here, little sister!" Tadalac said with a smile, holding out a golden ring to Nima with a smile. It was the ruby-set ring they had taken from the devils. "This is for you. It’s a spell-bearing ring, though it had not been imprinted with a spell echo, so I took the liberty of casting the enchantment last night. The spell of secret spaces that I cast on you before we rescued the king—I have embedded it in this stone!  This is very good!  Though you must know that it can only be used for a few minutes every day, then it will need to recharge by starlight."  He smiled wickedly, and said, “with this, may your dagger find even more backs!”

 He then skipped over to Bruckner and said, "Here, Ox, I found this inside that chest we found.  I couldn't pick the lock, but I made friends with a fellow in the army who has a knack for it.  I just had to give him a few silvers to do it!"  He gestures down to the chest, which contained a burnished, gleaming breastplate forged from a reddish metal. “A Breastplate of null-fire. Now you won't get hit by so many baddies, Ox!"

After the three had breakfasted, Toril walked up, surrounded by three pages asking questions and taking orders; there was much hustle and bustle as soldiers dismantled tents, readied their horses, and prepared to leave.

"You three ready to go?  We have a hard day's ride ahead."

The journey passed uneventfully, a welcome change after the past few days of darkness, tangible evil, and death. Bruckner had troubled dreams, and Tadalac sometimes called out in his sleep. Nima’s prayer beads were rarely far from hand, though she seemed least affected by the recent events. Three days full of hard riding passed wearily, with brief respites for meals, and short breaks for sleep, never more than 5 hours at a stretch.  On the afternoon of the third day, the group spied the mighty brass gates of Eltuhlich ahead.  

Their host thundered through across Jardamin’s Bridge as the sun was setting behind the north spire of Sazarkand’s fortress. The bridge they crossed was a mighty structure of scalloped brass spanning high above the city moat, which was full of poisoned bog-water, and fell slithering things that never came up for air.

The dying orange sunlight was shining behind the burnished city, making details hard to see; the group was riding along the southern bank of the Bay of Sevahr, and the air is cool coming off of the water, which is a welcome relief after three hot and dusty days of riding and camping, not to mention the many days before that adventuring in dangerous places.  As they draw still closer, Bruckner was struck by the deep copper-red color of the walls; there are numerous sentry towers, and only one massive main gate (easliy 40 feet across and 80 feet high) through which admittance could be gained; the doors are open, however, and the portcullis stands halfway up.

The air was moist here, and they can catch a slight whiff of what smells like marshland.  As the smell grew more noticeable, Tadalac spoke up, saying,

"The Spansian Marsh is just on the other side of this city; a nasty place, though actually, Tadalac prefers those adders to the snakes who live in this city!"  The road they travelled along was sturdy, but it appeared to be engaged in a constant battle against tangling weeds and clawing vines, creeping up from the wet banks of the bay.  Amongst the old limestone blocks were newer stones, peppered here and there, replacing, no doubt, old stones worn away by the wet and the plant life.  

The host passed through an outer ring of the city, arriving after a journey of some minutes along wide, and largely empty streets, at the gates to some inner part of the city. The guards were hard-looking men, dressed in full plate resting their hands on the pommels of their drawn greatswords, the tips planted between their feet. Wild palms grew in small pockets of bubbling marshy water, allowed to peep through the copper streets and brass byways of the city. The towers of the inner city ahead gleamed in many colors, white domes and blue spires surging up into the hazy orange sky.

The convoy stopped briefly at the entrance, and they noticed Toril speaking briefly with the guards.  The king rode a horse near the front of the convoy. His hands were unbound, but he was closely flanked by two guards.  The group slowly moving again, and they were finally past the gates and into the city proper.  The last rays of dying orange light illuminated a vast marketplace, or bazaar, on the other side of the wall.  Merchants hawked expensive looking fabrics and carpets, apothecaries boasted of their unique philtres and potions, and blacksmiths manned weapon stands; all were offering goods at prices they no doubt deemed reasonable. 

Once inside, Toril, after instructing his lieutenants, circled back to the three of them.

"Tadalac, look after these two, won't you?"  He said briefly, keeping an eye on the men moving the king a few hundred yards ahead.  “I've got to go and see the General. You can stay in the army encampment, in the south of town if you like, though you might enjoy nicer accommodations."  He tossed Tadalac a small bag filled with gold coins.  

"Here, go get yourself some rooms at the Hidden Hawk Inn; tell 'em Toril sent you.  It's a nice place, and fairly close to where the army is.  Come down tomorrow to report to the General; he'll want to hear your story for himself.  There's plenty to do in town while you're here, including a message board for people looking to hire adventurers.  You'll find it in the town center.  Though" he looks at you all seriously, "You'd do best to stay away from the palace, and really, the whole west side of town.  Them's Sazarkand's people, and they're dangerous folk."