PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 024

PBEM Orlantia: A Holy Presence.

From what they could see from the last boulder, Afy and Sef realized the only way to the cave was either flying over the briar patch or hacking their way through it. Since flying wasn't an option, and hacking through the tangled thorns would doubtless be noisy, surprising anyone in the cave seemed hopeless. At least cutting through the vegetation wouldn't actually be a problem, Sef judged, examining the heather-like growth, determining that it would easily part by stroke of sword or battleaxe.

The ranger looked at the holy warrior and said, "It's your decision. Unless the others might have a better option, I don't know what else to do but cut our way in."

One by one, each team member managed their way onto and across the rocks until all ten were atop the last two boulders. Andrew came up last. Brambles, unhappily, remained behind for the time being. Climbing up the large boulders wasn't an option for her, and Bebe bade her wait.

The sky began to rumble with the low roar of thunder. Somewhere to the southwest beyond the horizon the rain had started, and the wind was blowing the storm in their direction. Before nightfall, they estimated, it would be raining in Joad.

"Do you think the storm may affect the creature's habits?" Valin asked. "The townsfolk will also be caught in this storm tonight," he added as an afterthought.

"Should that matter?" Tyrulf asked.

"I'm not sure. Maybe the nightmare doesn't like rain, or maybe it's a matter of complete indifference to it. Whatever we do, however, we must engage with the nightmare tonight and wound it, if not kill it. Otherwise, the townsfolk may be doomed. What if this cave has nothing to do with the nightmare? What if we are caught up in a string of events that prevents our return until after nightfall? We will be condemning the townsfolk to death."

"What do you suggest?" Afy inquired of the Rogue of Hermes.

"I suggest some of us should not venture inside in case this has nothing to do with the nightmare. I suggest some of us should return to cover our bets. Yet, splitting up is not all that great either. If you go into the cave, it might leave you too weak to deal with whatever awaits inside. If nothing else, at least let me return to Joad. With the heavy crossbow, I feel I can at least wound the beast. But it's your decision, Afyanna," Valin told her.

Tyrulf suddenly looked to the cave, and though the illusion remained for all as a hazy, semitransparent shame - now that it had been pointed out to all of them and their bolstered minds had pierced its cloak - the young cleric of Boccob felt something more.

"I feel . . . " he began, but stopped for a moment to actually explore this feeling some more. "I feel something . . . holy. Not evil, not corrupt, but a power, a presence - an affinity," he finished.

"Affinity?" the others questioned.

"Yes, on several levels - arcane and divine. Perhaps as a student of both disciplines, I can sense more."

Mystir, who was also a student of arcane and divine disciplines, could sense something as well.

"Boccob," Mystir uttered out loud.

"Hanali," Alana said, almost simultaneously. Tyrulf enthusiastically nodded his agreement with Mystir's perception.

Afyanna looked at Mystir and then at Alana, but finally turned first back to Tyrulf.

"Are you suggesting this is a former temple of Boccob?" Afyanna demanded of the dwarf.

"No, but only . . . there is a strong feeling of . . . affinity, of sympathy, of similarity between what has happened here and Boccob's ways, even if not Boccob himself. Ah, perhaps it is nothing more than an indication of trickery and magic with overtones of a divine presence. Can't you sense it?" the dwarf asked Afyanna.

She concentrated for a moment, but realized finally that she could not feel anything from there.

"So what does that tell us?" Afyanna asked.

"I'm not sure," Tyrulf responded, looking back toward the cave. "Except, there is something holy, something sacred in that cave, and it's not just divine, but archaic in nature as well. Corellon Larethian is also a god of magic, like my lord Boccob. I suspect it is nothing more than being gifted in both disciplines and having a similar approach to certain spheres of influence that allows Mystir and I to sense this at all. I didn't even feel it at all until I was this close, so it's not a strong feeling."

"Yeah," Mystir joined his dwarven comrade, "it could well be Larethian's power within, and the illusion adds to the sensation."

"And what do you mean by Hanali," Afy asked Alana.

"She is my goddess, or rather Hanali is an aspect of my lord. Rillifane and Hanali. Some will tell you they are two different gods, but we believe they are one and the same, though manifest differently at different times. That which we call Hanali is a manifestation of love. I sense . . . the power of love from the cave. But there is a shadow across it, a veil of evil. I can sense no more from here. Perhaps if we were closer," she admitted, "I might sense more."

"In any event," Mystir said as a more pragmatic matter, "we won't really know anything until we look inside."

All eyes turned to Afyanna and waited.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Forge Ahead.

*Once again we reach a deadline,* Afyanna sighed. *We never seem to face a new situation at daybreak when we have the full day ahead of us.*

Afyanna's training told her that the best course would be to return to Joad and ready their defenses. It was the safe, tactically sound thing to do. The cave held too many unknowns and time was short.

But Afy could not discount the gleam in several of her comrade's eyes at the prospect of investigating something so definitely radiating an aura of their gods. Even though she couldn't sense it, Afy found that she too was interested if for no other reason than this might have been the old temple.

"All right, I think we should investigate this further." A smile or two peaked out from among the gathered group.

"I think Cosher and I should start making a path through those thorns," Afy said, motioning below. "Sef, you and Valin remain up here and cover the cave entrance with your bows. Everyone else, be ready for anything. If we draw something out, Cosh and I may not get a chance to react, so we'll leave that to you."

"What about the town?" asked Valin.

"We have a few hours yet before nightfall," said Afy. "Once we make it to the entrance you can return to Joad to prepare to hold the beast."

Valin nodded at the acceptance of his idea.

"But if the nightmare is inside and we draw it out - then there won't be any reason to go back," Afyanna added with a smile.

"I think I should come along, Afy," Sef said. "We should be prepared with some muscle on the front line if something emerges, and shooting into a group isn't that promising an idea, anyway," he explained. Afy had to admit, shooting into an open melee where your own comrades were mixing it up was a tricky proposition, so she nodded her agreement.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Awaiting Developments.

As Cosher, Afyanna, and Sef slid from view on the boulder to begin forging a path through the thick undergrowth, Valin and the others settled down into comfortable positions to keep watch over the mouth of the cave. Valin himself found the task more difficult than anticipated, his mind continually telling him he was staring at nothing as the illusion worked its effects.

*Don't think; just watch,* he told himself. *You're just fooling yourself otherwise.*

He placed some of the bolts from his pack in front of him and practiced aiming. He was getting better with the crossbow and he smiled in spite of himself.

*Perhaps all those years of practice weren't such an effort,* he thought. *At least I might hit that creature.*

He looked at the crossbow in his hands and not for the last time, wished he could have afforded more weapon's training. However, by the faint rustle beneath him, his friends were making good progress, and so he renewed his watch with his companion beside him.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Of Thorns and Long Trousers!

Cosher cursed Afyanna's decision as he drew Sliobhann and prepared to follow the holy warrior.

However, it wasn't fear or nerves that caused the dwarf to feel this way. No, out of all the members of the team Afy could have chosen, she also chose the only one wearing a skirt! And although the ex-sailor's legs were indeed hardy limbs - well accustomed to the biting sea air and driving rain - he still preferred to keep them away from things like thorns unless it was absolutely necessary.

Cosher grumbled under his breath as he followed Afyanna, sweeping his saber around him, hacking at the dense undergrowth. He could hear the muffled sniggers of those left behind as a thorn snagged on his kilt and threatened to tear it from his waist!

With a frown he turned back to the others.

"Jus' ye lot be ready in case the beastie comes a-chargin' out o' this hole. Ah want it cut doon before it can trample us intae these here thorns, ok? Nae missin' this time!"

- Johnny (Cosher)

PBEM Orlantia: Skirting The Issue.

Alana was torn. She wanted to investigate that cave. Something inside called to her. Hanali? There was a power there that spoke of a love that to the druid was unmistakably connected to Hanali's sympathies, and she wanted to be close to that power - wanted to tear away the veil that obscured it.

Yet she knew Valin was right about their need to confront the nightmare that night. They could not afford to get trapped there and not be back in time to fight the beast. Too many lives depended on their actions. Had Afyanna asked her advice she wouldn't have known what to tell the holy warrior, but she was pleased that Afy decided to investigate. Alana doubted anyone could have missed her smile when hearing the decision, even though she felt a bit disappointed that the warrior had chosen Cosher to go with her and not Alana.

As she watched the dwarf carefully hack his way through the hostile vegetation, she couldn't help but laugh. She had vivid memories of her own excursions through thorny bushes and the like in her youth. Her mother had wanted her to wear skirts. She thought skirts looked nice on a girl - though Alana had hotly argued none of her brothers were required to wear skirts. In the end, Alana had won though. Mother felt hugely embarrassed by the angry red lines and bruises that often adorned her daughter's legs and which, despite mother's scolding, kept reappearing. So in the end Alana was allowed to wear trousers. Somehow the druid had never imagined ever seeing a man in that situation.

When Cosher turned around to caution them to stand ready, she sobered up again. Could the evil marring the beauty of what she sensed truly be the nightmare? If so, she wanted to be ready for it.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Moonstone Temple.

Foot by foot, Sef, Cosh, then Afyanna hacked their way through the thorny vegetation, pausing only briefly now and again to make sure their noisy approach hadn't summoned something from the cave. Try as they might, there was no realistic way to part the briars quietly, and each chop rang out an unwelcome announcement of their looming advance.

The ranger frowned as he drew nearer, realizing such vegetation was a perfect means of defense and alarm, and it was being used against them. Few would wish to broach it, and those who insisted would as much be shouting out their presence to anyone within.

And yet the place had been fairly well hidden, and magically at that. Sef doubted any had taken that path in years - at least not over ground, even if perhaps by air. He could well see how the nightmare could directly fly into the cave with no hindrance. It was a perfect place for it to hide. But it worried him. Could a nightmare cast spells of illusion? Was it a spellcaster on top of everything else? And would a nightmare set up such defenses? None of that seemed likely.

*If this is Moonstone Temple,* he thought as he cut into a thorny patch of shrubbery, *perhaps all this is part of the temple's normal defenses, and the nightmare is just using it.*

He wasn't certain, of course. Many things didn't make a lot of sense to him. Why hide a temple in the first place? It should be a place of worship, open and available to all believers. Yet this was hidden. Why? And the townsfolk didn't know of it, or if they did, wouldn't admit knowing of it. Glancing back at Andrew, he could tell the boy's eyes were wide with expectation. Andrew didn't appear to know of this place's existence before then. Had it been hiding there, unused and unknown for centuries?

Sef's mind toyed with the possibilities as his body performed the repetitive and mindless task of hewing a path through the heather. Before he quite realized it, he had reached the cave and shimmering illusionary wall of thorns - just past thirty minutes from when they had started hacking into the shrubbery.

Carefully, the ranger reached out to touch the illusion with his sword. Nothing. He tried a finger. Still nothing. Apparently coming in contact with inanimate or animate objects didn't disrupt the magic. Except for in his mind, it wasn't really there, after all, and he guessed he could walk straight through it.

Turning to Cosh, who had been watching - when he wasn't picking thorns out of his kilt - Sef communicated his desire to have the others move up, and when Afy nodded her consent, Cosh walked back to the others to let them know. The path now clear, walking it took mere seconds.

"It's a clear path now, as you kin see, lads and lasses," he told the group. "We bes' move op in strength," he told them all. The others nodded and soon the party, save Valin, was huddled in front of the cave's entrance. The Cleric of Hermes remained well back, just in case, and waited to see what would transpire. When all were ready, Sef steeled himself, raised his sword, and stepped into the illusionary wall of thorns.

Sef found himself on the other side and was surprised to see, not a dank, wet cave as he had half expected, but clean, worked stone - dry and moss free. The cave looked as if it had started out as a natural formation, but it had been adopted and adapted, worked and altered, and transformed into something else.

Stone archways rose before his eyes, spanning the steep stone steps that quickly led deep underground. Ten, twenty, then thirty feet, he guessed while peering down, and the arches before him rose higher and higher as the stairwell plummeted downwards. At least it looked that way as one followed the stairs. The actual keystones of each arch remained on an even level, slightly below the ground, while the side supports grew longer and longer. And each keystone was clearly marked with a waxing, quarter moon symbol.

The entrance, as it turned out, was so roomy and airy, a pegasus with a 20-foot wingspan could have flown in with little difficulty. Surely, a nightmare whose means of flight took less maneuvering room would have no problem.

As Sef made this assessment, he quietly wished a pegasus were there with them. He had seen one once - a magnificent creature with blue-white feathers and powerfully built muscles. They were said to be quite formidable. He had only seen it in flight from a distance, but felt certain the tales were true from what little he saw.

"Moonstone Temple," he whispered to the others. All nodded their agreement. "And there's a light down ahead," he added, though everyone could clearly see that for themselves since darkness had not enveloped them.

Step by step, they descended into the cavern-like pit until Sef reached the bottom where a large, semicircular expanse opened up. Immediately to the left were three curved stone pews following the arc of the room, and to the right stood their mirror image. One could walk down the center aisle and file into any of the six pews, or they could proceed ahead a further fifty or sixty feet to reach - what? - a large, glowing, shimmering blue-white field that pulsated with power.

The entire chamber was vaulted with arches and the stonework was so cleverly done, Tyrulf simply whispered in amazement, "Dwarves did this."

Then Alana noticed a warm, pulsing sensation pressing between her breasts, not unlike a heartbeat. Looking down, she discovered the ring - Harriet Lovejoy's wedding ring Alana was currently wearing on a chain around her neck - was pulsating in time with the field before them. The monastic druid held out her left hand while grasping the ring in her right, and she could feel the power of love radiating from the field in front of them.

Images of self-sacrifice flooded Alana's mind, and powerful emotions of the love for others so great one would lay down their life to save them permeated her being.

*No greater love . . . * she thought.

"A great, personal sacrifice happened here," she said. "Like a mother dying to save her children, or a lover to save their lover. Or . . . or . . . oh, I'm not sure. But a great sacrifice, never the less. And that emotion remains, its power, its sacrifice. Can't you feel it?" she asked to no one in particular. The others looked around, their faces clearly showing none of them shared Alana's empathetic reaction to the place.

Slightly past the strangely glowing form, perhaps twenty feet on both sides of it, two hallways stretched away and into the darkness. One went southwest, and the other went southeast.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Temple Uncovered.

His heart in his mouth, Sefarlain looked around him in awe. The archways spread above him, forming a beautiful cavern-like dome in which they now stood. In case he had not guessed beforehand, the mark of Corellon confirmed the temple's identity on the keystone of each arch. The ranger had visited several of Corellon's temples before, but never one as stunning, or as hidden, as this. The feeling that he was probably the first elf in many years to step inside this temple only added to the excitement he felt, as if he had discovered a great secret. The ranger had heard of greater temples from his family. His uncle, for example, had visited The Bowl Of Corellon many times, but Sefarlain himself had never been there. Perhaps this was what it felt like?

Alana seemed drawn to the light pulsating from the center of the room. Sefarlain saw her stretch out her hand towards it as she held on to her necklace. Had she felt something? Sef closed his eyes but nothing inside him seemed unduly altered. Alana then spoke of love. Perhaps this could be the sacrifice that the previous holy warrior had performed?

He opened his eyes once more and his mind began to focus on the tasks ahead while the others looked at the field of light. Once again he motioned to the others to keep noise to a minimum, and one by one, they nodded in agreement.

*Keep your mind on what needs to be done, master ranger,* he chided himself.

He looked to the floor; looking for signs of disturbance or tracks down either of the passages. The nightmare might float above ground, but it could still disturb dust, and so he carefully looked for anything that might help decide which passageway needed investigation first.

Febriwyn caught his eye and nodded as he saw what the ranger was doing. He made his way to the other passage and both elves peered intently into the darkness, listening, smelling, and looking in order to try and pick up anything unusual. Nothing seemed to present itself to the ranger, and he looked over to Febriwyn, who shook his head, confirming a similar lack of signs. Keeping his footsteps light on the floor of the temple, Sefarlain made his way over to Bebe and whispered to her quietly.

"Bebe, do you think Brambles could help us once more? She might be able to smell anything we can't."

"Maybe," Bebe said, "but she can't climb the rocks."

Sef cursed himself for being so caught up in events that he had missed the fact Brambles had been left at the grove's perimeter. They would have to rely on their own talents now.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Pounded Purple.

Sef cautiously looked down the eastern passage while Wyn glanced down the western one. There was no motion in either. Testing the air, Sef thought he could smell something, but then he lost it. Oddly enough, there were strong air currents in motion in the chamber. Picking up a pinch of dust, he let it fall and was surprised to see its motes float upwards. He wasn't sure how it was done, but updrafts seemed to be everywhere.

"Here!" Bebe whispered loudly enough so all turned toward the diminutive druid. "Ugghh!" she added, covering her sensitive gnomish nose.

Bebe had discovered a morbid and gruesome sight. Sprawled out between two pews lay a body in an advanced state of decay. Like many others they had witnessed, this one was pummeled into the stone floor, smashed and broken, its bones protruding from a tattered purple robe that cloaked the desiccated gore.

"Ah, et looks like we found yer man in purple," Cosher volunteered. "The beastie seems tae have done him in, as well."

No one knew what to make of it, but all agreed the mysterious man in purple had met a grizzly fate. Did he deserve it? They weren't sure.

"Anyone want to check his body for . . . stuff?" Afyanna asked. Some gave her a look. "You know, clues and stuff," she said, adjusting their thoughts as to her motives.

No one said anything, but Wyn silently knelt down and set about the repugnant task. The infamous purple robe stuck to the corpse and had to be pulled free so pockets and folds could be accessed. As he combed through the man's pockets, Wyn tossed each discovered item over the back of the front pew so the others could see it.

"Packets of powder or dust. Glass beads. A bit of honeycomb. Moss, a small pearl, a feather, some phosphorus, a broken glass rod," Mystir called off the items as he identified them. "This man was obviously a wizard," he said, sharing his conclusions with everyone. With one or two exceptions, most of it looked like junk, but Mystir knew better. The man was lousy with material components.

"Does he have a book of any kind?" he asked anxiously.

"Don't see any yet," Wyn replied, "but I'm not done yet."

When we had finished the chore, no tome had surfaced and Mystir's heart sank, but a pouch of coins had been discovered.

Counting it, Tyrulf - how the money fell into the dwarf's hands was a bit of a mystery, but no one questioned it - finally announced, "12 PP, 135 GP, 8 EP, and 14 SP."

"And that pearl looks like it might be worth a hundred GP or more," Cosher speculated. Being a sea dwarf, he had a better affinity for the gems of the sea than his cousins the hill and mountain dwarves, who actually often seemed to shun such items.

"It was with his components, so I think it's for an Identify spell," Mystir explained. "But it's as good as money," he cheerfully added.

*Is this a happy occasion?* he suddenly asked himself.

"Afyanna?" Sef said, walking over to the quest leader. "It's hard to say . . . the floors are stone, but some human shoe prints skirt the blue field in the dust. I don't see any horse prints, but then I did not expect to find any. What now?" he wondered out loud. "Left or right, or is what we seek here?"

Mystir took charge of the man in purple's possessions, cataloging the items as the others pondered their next move.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Let's Do It!

"Here beastie, beastie, beastie," Cosher murmured under his breath as he wiped his blade down, soiled from hacking its way through the thorny undergrowth.

"Beastie, ye is goin' tae get it real good," the dwarf continued. The thorns that snagged his kilt and scratched his legs were no longer of consequence. No, there were more important things to worry about now.

Cosher stepped to the front of the group, looking both left and right, weighing up in his mind which way the team should go.

"O' course, Ah cannae speak fer the lot o' ye," he whispered while facing south, "but Ah've an inkling fer the left yin. Sef, Wyn, what d'ye think? Afyanna?"

The bard now had Sliobhann clutched firmly in his right hand, blade pointing directly forward. Where his arms were visible under his sleeveless studded jerkin, heavy bunched muscles - toned and built-up through years of climbing riggings and hauling nets full of fish onto the decks of ships - were strained and tensed in anticipation.

- Johnny (Cosher)

PBEM Orlantia: Dwarven Work.

Tyrulf was glad that the group made it to the cave entrance without incident. When he made his way through the illusionary wall of thorns, he couldn't help but wonder what level of knowledge it would take to construct such a spell. Looking about after going through the thorns, Tyrulf was surprised to see the condition of the hall beyond. The gasps from the other members told him that he was not the only one surprised.

The walls and floor were dry and moss free. It was so dry that dust covered the floor.

*The illusionary wall must be than just an illusion to protect the cave from the elements so well,* Tyrulf thought in awe.

Looking back out, Tyrulf could see the recently hacked path that the group had made to gain entrance, as if there was nothing blocking the way. Putting his hand through the illusion again, Tyrulf shook his head.

"A powerful spell, to hide and protect for such a long time," commented Tyrulf.

Looking back he could see the awe in Mystir's face as he nodded his agreement with Tyrulf's statement. The rest of the group had started to move down the hall so the two followers of Boccob moved on. With the illusion behind him, Ty started to pay more attention to the walls of the cave. The stonework was superb. There was a delicately carved crescent moon in each keystone.

*Obviously dwarven made. The stoneworkers at BlithenOre had done similar work for the town temple, although not to this scale,* thought Tyrulf as he looked at the walls going upwards.

When the group reached the bottom, Tyrulf looked around and his breath was stolen from him. The work done in the room was beyond his wildest dreams. While almost every dwarf had some knowledge of stone working, Tyrulf had thought that the stonemasons at BlithenOre were among the best, but nothing they ever did, or ever would do, could compare to the magnificent work done in that room. A tumult of emotions flooded through Tyrulf as he looked around, taking in every detail of the beautiful work.

"Dwarves did this!"

Tyrulf's simplistic statement could not properly convey the pride and awe he felt, but he could not find the right words to express what he was feeling. Bebe's whisper brought Tyrulf back to the task at hand and he looked at what she had found - the man in purple . . . or at least what was left of him.

*Another victim of the foul beast.*

Members of the party had previously suggested that the man in purple brought about the nightmare's rampage, but this seemed to contradict that. Or did it?

*So this is the man in purple - or more appropriately, the wizard in purple,* he thought. *Maybe he lost control of the beast,* he speculated.

Mystir's conclusion the man was a wizard seemed valid as a multitude of material components was brought forth. However, that would not explain why the nightmare had stayed around there. Normally any creature summoned that wrested control from those who summon it were free to go wherever they wished, or return from whence they came. At least that is what Melakra had taught him.

Wyn continued to throw the acquired items onto the pew, and as he threw a small bag that grabbed Tyrulf's attention, Ty reached out and caught it. No one seemed to be paying attention since they were all intent on the body and Mystir was leafing through the components that had already been gathered. Feeling the small pouch, Tyrulf could tell it held several coins. When he opened it up he gasped, which made the rest of the group look over at him. Counting the coins inside, Tyrulf announced the total of each type.

*A small fortune,* Tyrulf thought as he looked down at what was left of the body. *This man was obviously well off. What was he looking for that he would take such risks?*

Tyrulf handed the pouch to Mystir. The young wizard was holding all the other possessions, so why not the money too? He was, after all, group treasurer.

Sef asked Afyanna which way the group should go. Tyrulf closed his eyes, hoping that he could get a feeling about one way or the other, as the group waited for Afy's decision.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Examining The Temple.

While Wyn carefully removed each item from the mutilated corpse that they had discovered, Sefarlain went back to the faint footprints he had seen in the dust. Taking the measure of a boot from the dead man had allowed him to ascertain how likely it was that he had made these tracks. The ranger had a suspicion that there might be another person involved in this, but had no proof of this. Perhaps the footprints would help.

He followed the prints across the floor, noting how they avoided the mysterious blue field. What was the strange blue light? Alana had intimated that it gave an aura of love and sacrifice, which sounded a lot like the holy warrior to the elf.

*Perhaps she sacrificed her life in some form of spell to protect the people of Wrath?* he mused.

"Alana," he said softly. She turned towards the ranger and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Alana, while I look at these prints, could you see what you can make of the field? I can only see the light, but you seemed to get some sort of empathic reaction to it. Can you make out any more?"

"I'll see what I find Sef, but I'm not sure if it'll be any different," she warned. He nodded in reply.

Wyn came over and stood next to Sef, looking down at him with a strange expression of remote fascination. He had apparently finished searching the body.

"Nothing from the west tunnel," Wyn muttered, clearly less than impressed at their new subterranean journey.

"Have you found anything else, Wyn? Your eyes are sharper than the rest. I thought there might be a door or something behind this light."

The elf shrugged and walked off. Sef wasn't sure if he would examine the wall next to him, but the suggestion might have helped. He returned to his footprints.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Second Order Tome.

The nameless purple wizard's corpse didn't actually smell that bad, which was quite remarkable. The upward currents seemed to circulate the temple's air with extraordinary efficiency, and their effect on the body had been to desiccate it. But it hadn't been there long enough to completely dry it out. Given the room's conditions, Sef judged the wizard's demise to be sometime last fall. That coincided with his appearance in, and disappearance from Joad, so it was not a recent event. Whatever was transpiring in and around Joad those past few months had occurred without the direction of that dead wizard.

What had happened there? Another question, or the same one? The ranger frowned.

Gauging the size of the dead wizard's boots, it was clear only that wizard had trodden on that floor in many years. They came in, they went out, they came in again, and they circled the blue-white magical aura many times, and apparently ran the length and breadth of the entire room, just as they would for a man searching the place for the first time. Except . . . they looked scuffled in places, as if movements were suddenly hurried. And something else was odd, too.

There was a place where the tracks disappeared, as if by magic, and a place they appeared from nowhere, also as if my magic - or by flight. And it was where they appeared, right next to the aura, that the scuffling began. Carefully reconstructing the events, it looked as if the struggle had culminated in the wizard's demise. The feeling of seeing a one-sided battle bothered the ranger, but no foe's tracks could be seen. Nevertheless, it was clear what had done that, and the nightmare did tend to float on the air and leave no trace of passage.

*Evil beast!* Sef silently cursed it.

"Stay together," Afyanna said, making sure everyone heard her. "We don't want to split up, get lost, or lose track of one another. Let's just see what this room tells us before any of us move on." She was quite clear about what she expected of the others. "Besides, the other areas look like they'll require a source of light."

No one had yet produced any means of illumination and had been relying on the aura's radiance to see their way, but if they went on, someone would have to come up with a different source of light.

"Tyrulf, go tell Valin to wait for half an hour, and if we haven't sent further word, he should return to Joad alone," Afy ordered the dwarf. When Tyrulf departed, Afy turned to give her full attention to the shimmering field of light.

"This place is a temple, a place of worship. Fine. And right where that light is, is exactly where the altar should be," she told the party. "But I can't see it, assuming it's still there. The light is opaque. What's that all about?" she asked rhetorically.

The holy warrior knew what needed to be done, but it was risky. Someone had to touch the field, or at least explore it further somehow or in someway. But that could do almost anything, and she was acting blindly without information. It could cure or it could kill, it could bless or it could curse. Whatever it was, it was there for a reason. What reason? Love and sacrifice? Had they created it? She didn't know. Who put it there? Friend or foe? She didn't know that either.

Maybe more could be discerned with different eyes. It was magic, wasn't it? It looked magical. Who better to ask than a magic user?

"Mystir? What can you do to help us glean more information about this field?" she asked him.

Tyrulf had just returned and had heard the inquiry of the holy warrior. He was about to comment when Wyn let out a low whistle.

"Pheeewwwwww. Looks like there's a secret door here," he announced. "A couple regular doors are at the end of the west corridor, but there's a secret one right here," he said, pointing it out to the others. Most looked at it and, if they were honest, would have to confess they couldn't see it. It looked just like the rest of the wall to them.

"Ah dinnae know aboot that," Cosh began, coming back from the few steps he had taken down the eastern path, "but there's stairs leading down directly east one way, and the other way goes on into the darkness and opens into a large room from what Ah can see from there," he said, indicating how far he had ventured into the hall, which wasn't very far at all.

"A book!" Alana cried. All looked toward her where she had been carefully looking through the pews on the west side. She raised the volume up in triumph, having found something that looked valuable, and blew the dust off its crumpled pages. It had not been closed, nor set down properly, but looked as if it had been flung under the second pew, pages bent in ways the proper treatment of books would never entail.

Mystir was by her side before Alana could manage another breath.

"Let me see that!" he ordered, a bit too strongly while reaching for it, and Alana handed it over since its marking clearly looked mystical. In fact, she was thankful to be rid of it since she had been told some rather horrific things about those who carelessly handled magical tomes.

"Yes, yes!" Mystir exclaimed, almost recklessly leafing though the tome's pages.

In truth, he had been lucky the thing was not booby trapped with some spell, but in actual fact, few wizards did that. Sure, there were spells for that very purpose, but most wizards rarely needed to guard a book past the point of making sure it didn't fall into someone else's hands in the first place. If that ever happened, they probably already had bigger problems. Still, the purple wizard had failed to protect his work, and now one of his spellbooks was in the hands of another. But then, honestly, he seemed quite beyond the point of caring. Perhaps he would not have begrudged the halfelf the tome? Who could say? All Mystir knew was that he obtained part of the work of the wizard, and such things were priceless to a beginner and relative novice. Hundreds, if not thousands of gold pieces worth of research might be saved. He was beside himself with glee, almost oblivious to the still serious nature of the ongoing quest. But he couldn't help himself since he was caught up in the moment.

"In Boccob's holy name, these are his second order spells. It'll take a little work to decipher some of them, but I think two of them are the famed spells of Invisibility and Magic Mouth. I can't quite make out the other two yet. Hmmm . . . " he said, counting the pages.

Only twelve pages were filled out with symbols and notes, so the tome only contained four spells. A quick assessment of 'average' progression into the mystics arts led Mystir to believe the purple mage had been of moderate power to have acquired four second order spells - maybe not quite as potent of his own master, but far more potent than he had yet to achieve himself.

"We can't actually use this yet, but it's worth a lot to a wizard like me . . . or, say Bebe, maybe," he said, looking at the gnome, for he wasn't certain what the gnomish mage might be able to comprehend in the purple mage's spellbook.

Tyrulf, unfortunately, followed the path of the sorcerer, and such formulaic approaches to arcane magic represented by that tome of magic were counter intuitive to him and thus did not have any intrinsic value beyond what the tome might fetch on the open market. Of course, both Wyn and Sef might also be able to one day grasp some of its secrets, too, so it was a promising find in any event.

Mystir quietly wondered how they would decided who owned the book, but suddenly remembered his training. Quickly looking around, making certain nothing horrid was about to befall them, he breathed again, thankful his inattention to his immediate surroundings in a potentially dangerous situation hadn't cost him dearly.

Slipping the spellbook in with his own, he simply said, "I'll carry this for now, unless anyone objects." No one really did.

"What was it you said earlier, Afy?" he asked her.

"What? Oh, yeah. Umm . . . what can you tell us about this magical looking aura? Do you have any spells that might help us see it differently?"

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Clues To The Past.

"Afyanna!"

The holy warrior responded to Sefarlain's call and came over to stand beside the ranger.

"The footprints and tracks here give me some idea as to what's happened. If you combine this with the state of the man's body, I might have a theory."

Afyanna looked interested, but remained cautious, as did Sef. He was by no means certain of the veracity of what he was about to say, but the mental exercise in piecing all of it together interested him. Perhaps it would help?

"Go on, Sef. I have a few ideas myself, as I'm sure we all do, but your thoughts are welcome."

The ranger nodded and began his theory. He cast his eyes to the floor and pointed out the evidence that they were in the process of destroying, albeit accidentally.

"The body of evidence suggests that sometime last year the wizard found this cave. I would assume this would tie in with the date of his disappearance. The tracks look like he explored this room and circled the field several times, so I don't know if he knew what he was looking for, but it seems unlikely. He was attacked and killed by the nightmare, judging from his injuries and the marks on the floor. Perhaps he was preparing a spell at the time since his tome was found away from the body. But the attack was obviously a surprise. I think whatever he did, he may have released the creature or disturbed it as the timing would coincide with the attack's beginning, and there are no more tracks here to suggest anyone else being involved."

He paused to catch his breath and then continued.

"Now the rest is even more speculative. I'm assuming the nightmare originated from here, since this is the first attack from all of our evidence. If this is its point of origin, it may be returning here regularly. The temple is certainly big enough. That means, I fear, that if it's anywhere, it's down that corridor since it's big enough and the other one ends in doors."

He pointed to the eastern corridor. All eyes followed his finger and looked into the darkness with a mixture of fear and trepidation.

"The final question is, 'where this beast came from?' I can only think that the last holy warrior somehow sacrificed herself to stop all this and that the wizard might have disturbed what she did and released the nightmare, but whether it was from this field or not, I have no idea. Mystir, I think we'll need your help."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: A Field of Light.

The newly discovered tome, now resting aside his own, had Mystir excited, yet the fate of the purple-clad wizard's other books still eluded the boy.

*It's not a good idea to be without all your spells,* the halfelf thought to himself. *It's like a warrior leaving his daggers behind just because his sword is more powerful. It's just not done,* he concluded.

It wasn't the power that the boy wanted. Nor was it the ability to cast a greater number of spells. It was the raw information he sought.

Realizing his location and the task at hand was not the time for such speculation, Mystir shifted his focus back to the mysterious field of blue light.

"Well Sef, Afy," he turned towards the two as he spoke. "I'll take a look at it and see what I can determine, but without the proper time and various experiments, I doubt that I will be able to come up with much of a conclusion."

The boy circled the field, trying to stay clear of where Sef had said the footprints were. His eyes were sharp, thanks to his partial elven heritage, but he lacked the training to notice the details that their ranger could.

"Sef, could you point out exactly where the wizard stepped?"

"Yeah," the elf replied. "I can do that."

Mystir listened as the ranger narrated the deceased wizard's path.

"And his steps pick up again over here," Sef concluded, "where it appears the nightmare attacked him."

"You mean his steps end here?" Mystir asked the ranger as he stepped over to the location on the eastern side of the chamber, nearly facing the way they had come.

The ranger nodded in agreement.

Mystir took a moment to examine the blue light over his right shoulder, then stepped wide of the field and over to where the steps picked up, this time facing the center of the room from the west. "And they pick up again over here?"

Again Sef nodded, this time adding, "Yes."

The location of the footprints didn't make sense to the boy. His first thoughts upon hearing that the steps vanished and reappeared were that the deceased had stepped through the field. Coming out in another location would account for missing prints. But this . . . this just didn't make sense.

Stepping back towards the center of the room the boy stared at the field. "Hmmm," was all he said. Taking a few steps closer, yet not near enough to come into contact with the field, Mystir continued to study it.

He looked about to the room to gauge if it cast any shadows. It didn't. In fact, as the room's only source of light, blocking its illumination caused the only shadows in the room. Then he got down on his hands and knees to see if he could see under the field in order to determine if it was spherical. It wasn't, though it was semi-spherical, as if the floor had cut a sphere nearly in half, but leaving more than half behind.

Standing, he shook his head. Then walking completely around the field he uttered, *Let's see, shadows seem about normal,* his mind was in an analytical mode. *Temperature appears constant. Emotions?* Mystir cocked his head to one side. *I'm not picking anything up. No overbearing smells. Moisture seems consistent.*

Still not satisfied, he walked to the eastern set of pews. Taking a moment to get a good footing, he climbed upon them in order to look over the field and maybe get a look at it from above.

Shaking his head again, he returned to the others.

"Well, the man in purple didn't seem to be too interested in the field," he finally said. "At least not by what Sef has told us."

The boy paused for a moment, shaking his head. "Unfortunately," he let out, "the only way that I can see to determine its nature, is to test it."

"Ah dinnae like the sound of that," Cosher interjected. "Et sounds a bit risky tae me."

Bebe added, "Yeah, it's too risky. For all you know, whoever touches that thing will vaporize."

Nodding to the others, Mystir dug into one of his pouches. "Well, don't plan on anyone touching it just yet." Upon producing a single copper coin he continued, "How about I take this Ikey here and toss it into the field?"

He paused a moment to judge the look on the others, then added, "If we hear it fall through, then we can leave the field at being just a light source. If it vanishes, then we know the field actually does something."

He knew his statement wasn't quite accurate. *It could be designed to only react with living tissue, but at least this is a start.*

"I know it's a bit risky," Mystir started, "and this thing may not even be important. However, without testing it, I can offer nothing more than we already know."

"So," he asked, "shall I let it fly?"

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: A Concern.

Mystir's analysis and knowledge impressed Sef. He had a much greater knowledge of arcane potential and its application.

*Perhaps he could one day teach me some of what he knows? I'll have to ask him to show me that wizard's tome,* he thought.

"Mystir, there's one thing I'm worried about. What if disturbing this field somehow released the nightmare? Do you think that it first might be worth a quick look down the corridor with the secret door? It might hold some answers."

The ranger listened to what he had just said, and tempered it with a final thought.

"Then again, it might not. Maybe none of us really knows."

While the others discussed what to do next, Sef moved over to the western corridor to see if he could detect any tracks. The light was dim, so he could only see the entrance to the corridor, but hopefully this would tell him all he needed to know.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Length And Breadth.

Uncertain what the next action would be, or even if the others would approve of Mystir's suggested test of tossing a coin into the blue-white field, while the others pondered their next move, Sefarlain decided to examine the western corridor for more tracks.

It did not take long to see Wyn's recent movements had wiped out most evidence, but a few traces could yet be discerned. The barest trace of the purple clad wizard's passage could still be detected. He had entered the corridor, and then returned. However, no indication he ever approached the secret door, or even went through the other doors at the end, turned up.

"Yeah, that's what I first thought. It looks as if the wizard traveled the length and breadth of the entire room, pretty much just as we have done. He circled the field several times, though, as if examining it. Then . . . something. He did something. A spell?" he speculated.

Sef really couldn't say for sure what the wizard had finally done. He could only attest that whatever it had been, it had ended badly for the purple mage.

"I don't think that wizard did much more than we have, or looked further into this temple before he decided upon a course of action. Then he did something in this room. I'm not sure what. Then he died in this room. If his natural inclination was to test the field, Mystir, just as yours is, it might not go well, just as it didn't go well for him. Do wizards often think alike?"

"You may be right," Mystir muttered, rethinking the coin he held.

"On the other hand," the ranger said, "you haven't made the classic mistake he apparently made."

"Oh, what's that?" Mystir asked.

"Umm, yeah, what is that?" some others chimed in, wishing to contribute and wanting to know what classic mistake should be avoided, which was always a good thing to know.

"He was alone," Sef said rather simply. "Exploring alone, adventuring alone. It's a damn foolish thing to do, no matter how powerful one may be. That's what my father always said of some of those figures in bardic yore. He hated tales like that - called them unrealistic. Doubted most of them, in fact. Point is, though, you're not alone Mystir. We're here with you. If something does happen, at least all of us might deal with it together, as a team, bringing far more skills and talent to the problem than most individuals could hope to wield."

Mystir now felt Sef was perhaps encouraging him to do the risky thing and throw the coin into the field. It was true he was not alone, but then again, if he did that, he would be on point. The front man often got it in the neck. It was a precarious position, after all, yet someone had to bear the responsibility.

"What do you others think?" Mystir asked again.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Sacred Ground.

As the dimness revealed more and more, Afyanna tried to take in the splendor of the temple. The grandeur and magnificence overwhelmed her, tearing up her eyes at the many sights.

*This was no mere gathering place,* she realized. *This was a major temple.*

Years of disuse could not hide or mar the care and attention to detail that was apparent in all directions. The walls, pews, columns, the high ceiling, and even the floor displayed the fine craftsmanship of the dwarves. And for this temple to Corellon Larethian, those dwarven craftsmen had truly outdone themselves.

And in the middle of the architectural wonder of the temple, there sat a swirling field of light where the altar should be.

The Purple Wizard, as Afy had come to know him, had apparently disturbed something he was unprepared for. Afyanna knew that the mystical field had been in place before the wizard arrived. The key question was, 'Did the nightmare attack the man while he was exploring, or did his investigation of the field set loose the beast?'

It seemed clear to Afyanna that the mystical field was indeed a manifestation of the energy of the Holy Warrior of Wrath's sacrifice all those many years ago. But why had it lain undisturbed for so long? How had a major temple to His power disappeared from the conscious thoughts of the locals? Had the local people been driven out or killed during the many battles with the drow? Had the final battle that had claimed His holy avenger also killed off the last people who even knew of the temple's existence?

That at least seemed possible. But who had secreted the entrance? Had the Purple Wizard discovered the temple and then hidden the entrance in case others arrived? That seemed doubtful to the kin-der. It made more sense that the wizard, like themselves, had stumbled upon the entrance. But how had HE gotten inside? The thorns were quite undisturbed. One look at Cosher's nicked and bleeding legs would convince anyone of that.

An old thought pulled at her subconscious. Why would Corellon Larethian call her of all people?

What if The Protector of the Elves had in fact called to her from among other things, a sense of guilt? Guilt? From a God? Even if true, it would no doubt be much more than a simple emotion. But for a layperson to wrap her mind around it, perhaps 'guilt' was the only way to describe it.

What if this wizard, while exploring the temple, had accidentally disturbed a most holy site, the site where the Holy Warrior of Wrath had given her life for the lives of others? What if, by disturbing this site, the wizard had released that horror upon the unsuspecting populace? Would not a layperson feel guilt that a place of worship, serenity, and beauty - sacred ground in fact, consecrated in the blood of His avenger - had given birth to a beast of such evil that was now terrorizing the locals?

*'The blood of the innocents,'* Afyanna heard in her mind.

Afyanna approached the glowing field and peered deeply within it. She couldn't discern anything within its whorls, but nor did she feel any danger. Afyanna knelt before the field where the altar should be and brought forth her holy symbol. Clasping it tightly, Afy said a silent prayer for the Holy Warrior of Wrath and to the many, many lives that had been lost on that sacred spot.

Thinking of all the bloodshed that had occurred in this most holy of places saddened Afy's heart. But the possibility that a beast of evil had taken residence in this same temple filled her with resolve. Should it be true, this place must be cleansed of that evil.

Rising to her feet, a sudden thought came to her.

"Mystir," Afyanna said, "I think your idea with the coin is a wise one."

The wizard nodded, smiling openly.

"But I suggest we do not cast any spells near the field."

The eyes of the party went to the holy warrior. Some had already surmised that perhaps a spell from the Purple Wizard had disturbed the field.

"What if the arcane energy from the wizard's spell somehow conflicted with the energy of the field?" Afyanna asked.

"I don't even know if that's possible," Mystir answered. "What are you thinking?"

"I think we all agree that this field has something to do with the Holy Warrior of Wrath and the final battle, yes?"

Nods and murmurs of agreement went around the gathered party.

"What if this energy is of a divine nature, based on love, virtue, and sacrifice?" Afyanna looked to the druid. "Alana, isn't that essentially what you felt?"

"Yes," she said. "It was . . . is quite overwhelming when this close to it."

"Exactly," Afyanna continued. "So what if this powerful divine energy was somehow disturbed by the wizard's arcane spell?"

Mystir, Tyrulf, and Bebe all exchanged looks and shrugs. It was clear they hadn't ever heard of it, but that didn't necessarily rule it out either.

"So what is it you expect us to do?" asked Sefarlain.

"Essentially, exactly what we had already discussed."

The glare on Cosher's face told her that he would be more pleased if more detail was given.

Afyanna suppressed a chuckle and then filled in the holes. "We need to explore this field, but we should be prepared for the worst."

"Aye," interrupted the sea dwarf.

"Sef, you and Wyn take up positions near the back of the temple. Ready your bows." Afy then faced the casters. "Bebe, you and Tyrulf also move toward the rear of the temple. Be ready for anything."

"Cosh, you and I will stand near the first set of pews, ready to engage should anything come out of that field when Mystir tosses the coin."

"Right!" came his exuberant reply.

Afy then turned to Alana. "Alana, I know you were going to touch the field should it come to that, but I think you should stand ready with Bebe and Mystir."

"I don't understand why," she said.

"Since we are in a temple to Corellon Larethian," Afy explained, "if anyone should touch the field, I think it should be me. If what you say is true, and I have no doubt that it is, then the energy of His power should not harm one of His faithful."

Alana nodded sullenly and then joined the casters near the back of the temple.

When all were in place, Afyanna looked to Mystir. "Mystir, give the coin a toss."

- Rick (Afyanna)