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As dusk began to settle upon the forests of Willow, the three
survivors from the doomed citadel of Azak-Kaghk-K'korr were able to
rest, briefly. The peoples of Willow, swayed by their mighty goddess,
were preparing an army to march south to aid the Aysen before the great
army of Tormoth descended upon Northkeep. In the meantime, an elven
ranger named Tyrlim and a Green/Red wizard named Monnor were going to be
with the three young men as they searched for a magical artifact of
great power rumored to be just north of the Willow forests, in the
Mountains of Anaba. This artifact was called Barl's Cage, named after a
celebrated artificer who used it to trap powerful and dangerous
creatures. Nothing was immune to its powers, and the intent was to trap
any elementals and shamans that the Warlord would have in his army.
"Now, just as a last question," Monnor said before they split
for the night. "You said that the Orc shaman who fought Fabzin was after
a Disk, right?"
"Yes," said Turth.
"Hmm. Well, if we're lucky, it's just some object which enhances
the powers of its owner."
"And if not?" Talen asked.
"Have any of you heard of Nevinyrral's Disk?" Monnor asked. When
all three Aysen shook their heads in a negative response, he continued.
"It was a powerful relic, capable of destruction on a scale
unimaginable. Any one who can master it could destroy anything. There
are a few spells that can disarm the artifact, but they require special
objects to be useful. Nevinyrral's Disk was heavily enchanted to protect
it from artifact-shattering spells cast by all but the most powerful
mages."
"Well," Tyrlim said, "we shall just hope that this Orc shaman
does not have this Disk that you refer to, Monnor. It is time we slept,
since we leave at dawn tomorrow." There was general agreement to this,
and the five went their separate ways for the night.
Castle Sengir was cloaked in deep mists, invisible to the serfs
who slept in the valley deep below. Within its halls, the Baron stood,
musing over information his Bats gave him. The omnipresent bats had been
around when the Nettling Imp had spoken to the Orc Shaman Gnorrbb.
Sengir had seen the Disk, and knew for certain that Northkeep would fall
unless the Shaman did before it. Unless the Shaman did not know quite
how the awesome artifact he wielded worked.
The Baron was musing over the words of the Oracle in the ruins
of Mox. Like Gnorrbb, he could with certainty refer to only one person
in the six prophecies. The one who would be cursed for all eternity for
a fall from grace was definitely Ihsan. But as for the others, the Baron
did not have the faintest idea, though he could make guesses like any
one else. The problem was that the wording the Nettling Imp used was
surely not that of the Oracle. The damned familiar had twisted the words
to keep even its own 'master' wondering what it was talking about.
Nevertheless, he knew also of the Warlord Tormoth's highly
optimistic view of when they could assault Northkeep, and also knew that
such a quick assault was impossible. Tormoth had discovered the mountain
passes which allowed a two week travel time to Northkeep from the valley
where his armies lay during the previous summer. It was now spring, and
the snow had yet to melt. The Warlord would be delayed for another three
weeks to three months. The Baron smiled cruelly. Enough time to figure
out how to beat the Oracle's prophecy that nothing alive nor Undead
could harm either Gnorrbb or Tormoth.
"This will prove to be a major annoyance," Tormoth growled,
looking at the snowed-in passes. He had accompanied a scout party that
was sniffing around the area, and was beginning to believe that he would
never get across these passes in enough time to beat the five Aysen to
Northkeep. And if the great fortress complex had about a month to
prepare, it would be invincible against even an attack assisted by
mighty magics.
"Perhaps, Lord, there is a way to get rid of this snow," Gnorrbb
suggested. He too, had come along, for the main purpose of advising
Tormoth. His real goals were to instill in the Orc Warlord a dependency
for his aide and Shaman Lord, so that his eventual takeover of the
fool's mind would meet with less resistance.
"And what would that be, Gnorrbb!" Tormoth turned, angry now. He
was surprised at the Shaman's wicked grin.
"Melt the snow, of course. Using Fire Elementals." Tormoth's
eyes widened, and then narrowed into slits as his mouth warped into a
ferocious grin.
"Of course. But with all the snow in all the passes, we will
spend three weeks melting it out. Since we still have a week's journey
to get to Northkeep, our time spent on the road goes from a safe two
weeks to five. The two escapees from our camp could have gotten to
Northkeep already!"
"Regardless, Northkeep will not have enough time to prepare
itself. We will be victorious!" the Shaman insisted. Tormoth grunted. He
was still doubtful of total success, but at least they stood a good
chance of being upon Northkeep before the great border castle could
fully prepare for the assault.
Later in the day, the many Shamans of the armies of Tormoth the
Marauder stood before the six mountain passes and cast spells of
summoning. Fire elementals burst out of thin air, and soon were set to
melting the great walls of snow.
The small company of five set out that very morning. Gerrold and Talen, Aysen Paladins. Tyrlim, the Elf Ranger. Monnor, the An-Havva Druid. Turth, the Aysen student of White Magic. They headed due north, to begin a quest that would enable them, perhaps, to stop the malevolent devices of Tormoth and Gnorrbb. But unbeknownst to them, it was a quest for more than just a magical cage. For one of the three Aysen, it was a journey that would go to enlightenment.
End of Chapter Six.
Don't miss Chapter Seven - The Fall of Angels