PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 025

PBEM Orlantia: Let Fly The Test.

"I, for one, am for testing the field," Alana said. "I know no one else senses it, but to me it does not appear evil or dangerous. I agree it is always best to be cautious. It could be a ruse. And evil has been here, judging from what happened to the man in purple. Still, we are pressed for time. If the nightmare was not to appear again soon and preferably with us waiting for it, I would say let's investigate all corridors and rooms thoroughly before turning to the field. Now, I hope that a solution for defeating the beast can be found in the light. But let's not be too close to the field when the coin is thrown. At least not all of us. Still, if you ask me, Mystir, I would say let it fly."

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: An Uncertain Wait.

Afyanna explained her plan clearly to the group, but it was not without some misgivings that Sef viewed his potential vantage points at the back of the temple. Was this a foolhardy course of action or just a group placed in a difficult situation with no time to waste?

*Only time and the benefit of hindsight will answer that,* thought the elf.

As he walked past the holy warrior, Sef mentioned what he had seen in the corridor.

"I don't think the wizard did much more than we have done so far - certainly he didn't search the doors or find the secret door. For what it's worth, my counsel is that we may learn something there, but the decision is yours. Wyn and I will take a covering position and wait to see what happens."

He huddled down and once more prepared his bow, then waited.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Joree's Sacrifice.

Mystir stood well back within the center aisle before looking around the room at his companions one last time, making sure all were on board and ready for the upcoming test. He felt anxious and noticed his heart was racing. Not only was he about to do something potentially dangerous, it had been HIS suggestion to do it. How would the others feel if the action resulted in one or more of their deaths? How would he feel?

But when all was said and done, given their time constraints, he honestly could see no better way to proceed than to start experimenting with the unknown, and hopefully lessening its mysterious qualities that made it such an unknown.

The young halfelf held his breath and tossed the Ikey into the blue-white pulsating field, where the gleaming disc of copper vanished. The room was quiet and still, everyone holding their breath and listening - for what? Nothing, apparently. The coin simply vanished into the field. No noise. No wavering of the light. Nothing happened. The copper piece was just gone. It didn't seem to hit the floor, nor did it roll out the other side.

"Well," Mystir said after a few moments, "in for a copper, in for a gold."

Of course, common expression aside, he had no intention of tossing in an actual gold piece, but another copper coin would not be sorely missed. This time he angled it better so it would hit the field almost tangentially. That way it ought to come out immediately, having only passed through the barest slice of the semi-spherical field. His aim was perfect.

The coin entered as everyone watched in anticipation as it silently sliced into the field and, just as before, vanished from view. There was no noise. There was no emergence of the coin. It was just gone, like before. Mystir frowned.

"I don't like this," he said, now approaching the field once more. "Did any of you sense anything?" he asked the group, though he looked directly at Tyrulf and Alana who were closest to the entrance. Both of them had sensed things earlier, so he felt they had the best chance of detecting any difference.

Tyrulf and Bebe quickly looked at one another, but saw in each other's eyes that neither had discerned anything new. Looking back at the mage, they just shook their heads in unison.

"Without more powerful spells, which are beyond my current abilities, I think the next test was yours, Afyanna. Don't reach into the thing, but only barely touch it at first and see what happens. Don't go beyond that without talking to us again first, ok? Good luck," he added, after Afy nodded her agreement.

Afy swallowed nervously as she turned toward the shimmering field, slowly approaching it until she was within arm's reach. Wise or not, intelligent or not, she had made up her mind and could see no better way. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached out with her left hand to touch the light.

CONTACT!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of burning wood and charred flesh filled Afyanna's nostrils. Turning to see where she was, she immediately screamed in agony as searing pain shot through her body. Looking down while gasping for breath, she could see she was covered in blood. Her blood.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a body lying near her - a priest of Larethian, judging by the robes. She was about to move to him when the stonewall he lay next to collapsed and buried him. Bricks rolled short distances before coming to a complete stop, and a cloud of red dust rose, covering the frightening scene. But when it finally began to clear, she could see a towering, leafless tree had been on the other side of the wall.

Then it moved toward her. It was no tree!

Emerging from the dusty motes of brick and mortar, an ungainly, bark-covered figure slowly strode toward Afyanna. She unconsciously reached for her missing sword but discovered her right arm was broken when pain shot along her shattered limb.

"Aiieeee!" she cried.

*That's not my voice,* Afy thought. She tried to speak again to test her voice, but her body did not obey her commands.

Backing away from the approaching ten-foot tall figure - what was that thing? - her feet found the steps leading downwards. She turned and hobbled down the stairs. Her left foot apparently also broken or sprained, each step she took downwards was rewarded with searing pain, until she finally entered the temple area. She could hear the wooden thing following closely behind her.

With her left hand she removed a glowing stone from her side pocket, illuminating the chamber.

*Glowing stone? A pocket? There? Huh, this isn't my clothing,* Afy realized, but she was powerless to act as she desired, as if her body had a will of its own. Each move seemed strange, yet somehow, oddly right and familiar.

Before her stood an iron altar - no, not iron, but some odd, metallic stone - its top shaped as a quarter crescent moon, its concave curve oriented in similar fashion as the pews behind her. She hopped toward it.

The towering entity emerged from the stairs and loomed above the temple chamber floor as it stood fully erect. Afyanna - no, not Afy, Joree - hobbled south until she reached the altar, then turned so her back was against it so she could use the altar as support.

The thing - its limbs of treelike timbers and bark-covered boughs - a giant of grainy countenance and wooden expression - the . . . the - what? - wooden golem, approached, now bathed in light from Joree's Continual Light stone.

Its features were now clear to Afyanna. The thing looked half smashed up and splintered, with deep cuts running up and down its length, and sizable chunks of wood were missing from its limbs. Like Joree, it had sustained considerable damage and been badly beaten. Yet, unlike Joree, it looked as if it did not care, felt no pain, and would keep on going, no matter what.

*Have I finally lost?* the thoughts echoed in Afy's mind, though they were not her own. *Will all those whom I've come to love die because I was too weak? They'll be defenseless,* she cried.

The golem drew nearer, its branch-like arms reaching out to grab Joree. Instinctively, she rolled back onto the altar and cried out at the excruciating pain, nearly passing out - yet she hung onto consciousness through sheer force of will.

*I won't let it end this way,* she vowed. *Just one more duty to perform,* she knew.

*Closer, closer,* she prayed. *Come to me you drow-made monstrosity,* she silently cursed while reaching for her only remaining weapon, a jeweled dagger.

"In the name of Larethian, by Gimarian's Holy Light, I surrender my life upon your altar, my Lord," she began chanting, as she placed the dagger's tip over her heart.

The golem grabbed her with its left hand, immobilizing her body upon the altar, and then raised its right fist like a huge maul.

"For LOVE!" she cried, as the hammering ball of a wooden fist drove down on her with a sickening thud.

With her aid, together with the golem's force, the dagger found its way home and completed Joree Sheen's final rite.

In her last moments upon the mortal coil, Joree saw her sacrificial spell engage and felt her soul empower the field, then surround and encase the altar, trapping the golem within.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FLASH!!!

As soon as Afyanna touched the field, a blinding flash occurred and a loud sound rang out like a chime, the force of which tossed the holy warrior back into Mystir's arms. She appeared uninjured to the mage.

"I guess that didn't work, either," Mystir sighed.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: What Next?

Afyanna explained what she had seen to a captive audience, each mind in the group could be seen working furiously on the new information.

"Well, that explains the first verse of that song, at least," murmured Sefarlain to no one in particular.

Mystir, especially, looked concerned by what Afyanna told them, and the ranger thought he knew why. He decided to mention it to Mystir directly.

"Mystir, you know more than the rest of us about these matters. What I cannot work out is what the purple wizard did to provoke the nightmare attack, and whether it has anything to do with this field. Do you think there's some sort of magical protection in here?"

Mystir shrugged. "That's very difficult to find out, Sef. I don't have enough information."

*And that's the real issue,* thought Sef. *Would we want to face the nightmare in here with so many unanswered questions?"

"Afy, how about the western passage? Wyn and I could scout it out. There may be something extra behind that secret door that could help us here."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Is Cautious.

Bebe stood in the back of the room looking over the scene. The rotting body concerned her a little, and she really wanted to look at the book that Mystir was greedily clutching, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind kept her alert. *Brambles led them to this place, but why?*

Brambles seemed to be sending confusing signs all morning. It was a little spooky in a way. After all, hadn't they traveled together for years? Why would she act like that?

A thought began to occur, *What if the 'Essence of Bebe' potion really worked and has led us to the foul beast's lair?*

Bebe leaned over to Tyrulf and said, "Be ready, Ty. All this commotion Afy is causing in the light may call that horsy hellion. It might be very close, and I, for one, don't want it to escape again."

Tyrulf grunted in agreement and swung his battleaxe in a couple of quick loops to loosen his muscles.

*Gosh, I sure wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that blade. It would hew me in two, and wouldn't even have the common courtesy to slow through my bones.*

Bebe gripped 'Mick' firmly and made sure the spells she had prepared the night before were ready. She discounted the western passage with all of the doors closed and stared intently down the eastern hallway into the shroud of darkness that prevailed. Although the curiosity about the secret door was piquing, she was more worried about that nasty little horse.

*Things that were meant never to be found were always the most interesting things to find,* remembering back to what her brother, Cobbynock, used to say to her.

*I better keep a close eye on those open corridors,* she reasoned. *After all, that nasty little horsy doesn't have a thumb, so it couldn't open a door, could it?*

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: What Next?

When Afyanna related her story, Alana felt a deep sense of awe. It was such a sad, and at the same time, beautiful story; much more moving than many bardic tales she had ever heard.

Alana had been right that the field itself was not dangerous. It was a relief to know that her instincts at least had not been off that much. But that which was locked inside the field surely was dangerous. Part of her wondered what would have happened had anyone but Afyanna touched the field. If she had tried it herself, perhaps she would have inadvertently set the monster free. Alana shuddered at the thought.

So many questions. It seemed that each time they found an answer to one of them, it just led to more questions. And they still hadn't found a solution to defeating the nightmare. They didn't even know for sure if the nightmare was connected to all this. Still, Alana believed it would be too much of a coincidence not to be connected.

Sefarlain apparently was thinking along the same lines.

"If you ask my opinion," she said after his last question, "I think, now that we're here anyway, we should try to find out every bit of information this place can offer us, as long as we allow for enough time to prepare ourselves for the nightmare's next attack. After all, our last encounter was not such a big success. Perhaps we'll do better today, but we can use all the edge we can get."

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Approaching The Doors.

Sefarlain looked up to Alana and nodded. The last encounter, whatever the effectiveness of it, hadn't been a victory. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sefarlain saw the barest trace of movement down western hall. Focusing his eyes on the source, Sefarlain made out the form of the newest companion.

"Wyn, what're you doing?" asked Sefarlain.

Spinning in a circle, a slightly abashed look crossing his elven features, Febriwyn grinned for a moment before replying.

"Well, as I see it, these doors aren't doing anything here except hiding things from us. We know, from what Afyanna just told us, that blue field is holding a golem of a power greater than Joree's. I even think it might teleport stuff. You're all free to keep playing with it, but I want to make sure nothing ambushes us while we do so. Besides, might be some clues," said Febriwyn, cautiously resuming his approach to the far doorway.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Tough Choices.

After Afyanna had finished recounting her vision, she had risen unsteadily to her feet. Afy had had no injuries, but her experience as Joree Sheen had been so vivid, so real, that she could still feel the remnants of the final battle.

For the umpteenth time, she gently worked her sword arm and grimaced at the expected pain. Of course, it did not come. Afyanna's arm was fine; it was Joree's that was shattered. Afyanna also walked gingerly on her ankle, expecting it to give way in blinding pain at any step. That, too, did not occur, but Afyanna could not dismiss the feeling that it might while the images were so fresh in her mind's eye.

She had told the party everything she could about the battle, Joree, and the huge golem. But there were no words to adequately express what it was like to almost actually BE Joree. All the pain, the sacrifice, the love, the deep convictions - all of it would sound so trite if converted to language and spoken. Joree's body had been beaten and broken, but her spirit was so overwhelming that Afyanna felt she might have lost herself within it had the experience lasted much longer. Perhaps that was why she was having difficulty regaining her composure.

Once the tale had been told and the details expanded at each question, it was time again to consider their options. The party had been excited at the discovery of a secret door - a door that apparently the purple wizard had not found - or at least had not used.

Afy shared their concern regarding what might lay behind that or the other mundane doors, but their course seemed clear to her.

"Why are we here?" Afyanna asked suddenly.

Her tone made it clear that it was no innocent question. When no one moved to answer, she continued.

"We are here to kill that abomination." Afyanna looked from person to person. "All else is secondary to that."

"Of course we all know that," Sefarlain replied, "but that does not mean that we should not look for items that may help our cause."

"And while we search beyond that door, more time slips away before nightfall," Afyanna said. "Soon, Valin must get an answer, too, or he'll depart. Now, what if there is more than just one room beyond the door? What then - do we continue to search, or do we turn back?" Afyanna asked. "One door or ten doors, it's all the same. The only thing that is different is the time needed to search them. It is time we do not have."

They all knew this to be true, but that did not quell the perfectly reasonable thought that there may very well be something laying in just that NEXT room that might be crucial to their victory. Afyanna knew this as well, but that did not stop her from focusing on the situation at hand.

"We have only a couple more hours until nightfall," the holy warrior reminded them. "We do not know this creature's habits."

"We know it only hunts at night," said Tyrulf.

"Apparently, but do you know when it leaves its lair?" she asked pointedly. "I don't."

"So if we start searchin', it may up and go before the sun goes down," Cosher realized aloud.

"Exactly, and I won't risk the lives of the people of Joad on it," Afyanna added.

Afyanna looked to Bebe. "Brambles led us here. My thoughts are that you did indeed hit the nightmare with your scent potion."

"I believe so too, Afy," Bebe replied. "I think Brambles was acting strangely earlier because she could smell my scent potion far away, but I was standing next to her."

"That makes sense," Afyanna said. "It seems clear that assuming the beast is here, and didn't just come here and then leave, that it must be down that corridor, since this one is blocked with doors."

"If it is here, then yes, that would be the obvious conclusion," Bebe replied.

"But we need to know for certain," Afyanna said. "Because if it is not, we must get back to Joad to give the people the time to travel safely."

"Sef and Wyn," Afy indicated the two with a wave of her fingers, "I would like the two of you to scout ahead down that corridor and into the room. Come back immediately if you see anything."

Turning to Bebe, Afy added, "While they are doing that, see if you can get past that secret door."

To Sef, Wyn, and Bebe, she added, "Remember, it is far more important to remain undetected than to be thorough."

"The rest of us will set up in here and make ready should our scouts awaken something they shouldn't."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: His Own Initiative.

*There she goes,* thought Febriwyn, *ordering someone to take my place and me to go somewhere else. Maybe if she thought for a moment, she'd realize it is better to just have me finish this and the other person go east. I doubt my dad would like her line of thought.*

The last thought brought a grimace to Febriwyn's face. Now within five feet of the side door of the western hallway, Febriwyn replied to the order, speaking over his shoulder, "Thanks, but I'll just check this out."

The words spoken, Febriwyn reached to open the door as silently as possible.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Breaking Ranks.

Perhaps it was his military background, perhaps his agreement with Afyanna's thinking, but as soon as a plan had been mentioned, Sef gave Afyanna a curt nod and began to move towards the eastern corridor.

In the cold light emitted by Joree's spell, Sef could make out the other western corridor ahead quite well. A faint discoloration could be seen where Wyn had discovered the secret door, and the two other portals, guarded by stout wooden doors, loomed dimly at the very end of the light source. Wyn, himself, was crouched next to one of the doors, his hand outstretched towards one of the handles.

"Wyn, wait!" hissed Sefarlain. "Not yet. We need to check on the other passageway!"

Was this young elf really going to open the door without them - without support, protection, or even without looking at the door? Sef couldn't believe it; it was actions like that that had probably killed the purple wizard, and he was considerably more powerful than their new companion. The ranger had a streak of curiosity that ran deep, but this was tempered with a degree of caution born from his training, and his mind screamed a warning as he saw the young elf reach out for the door. His hand fell naturally to Alonwë's hilt as he whispered his warning.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: A Moment's Pause.

As Wyn reached for the door and was about to yank it open, Sef hissed his warning at him to check the other passageway. The elf from Long Wood had already decided to take a little initiative and open the door, despite Afyanna's 'suggestion,' but he froze at the word 'check.'

He didn't really wish to check out the other passage. The doors held far more interest to him, after all. What shook him was the fact he had almost opened an unknown door without actually checking it thoroughly, and the very word, 'check,' brought him to his senses.

Meanwhile, Bebe had moved toward the secret door and was now looking at it, frowning, as if she was uncertain how best to proceed with it.

From his position, Wyn could see Bebe's hesitation, as well as Sef standing just outside the hall, looking at him, his hand on his sword. Afy, too, was looking at him, her full attention now upon the elf clad in a black cloak adorned with a black-winged white lion.

*What am I doing?* he thought. *What is SHE doing?* his thoughts trailed after. *Who here better than I can safely check an unknown door for traps? Why is she having that gnomish druid look at a secret door and not me?* he wondered. *And what's so important in the other hall to check first that she dare tell me to do something else?*

His thoughts were racing, all eyes now upon him. If it hadn't been for Sef's warning to 'check', he might have already been through the door in front of him, but because of it, he did pause. There could be a trap on the door, he now realized.

*Whatever I do, I have to take time to look, and they're all waiting.*

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Doors Are The Key.

Mystir sat upon the pew staring into the light. Since Afy's contact with the field, the boy had been attempting to piece together what they had learned.

*That makes sense,* he concluded. *The sphere is holding a creature, and her perception serves as a warning to what it contains.* He also guessed that further tampering with it was not a good idea.

But the young wizard couldn't piece where the nightmare fit into it. He couldn't believe that the good-natured god, that the temple was built to praise, would use such a creature to serve as its guardian. Nor could he believe that He would use a nightmare to carry out His desire.

They were running out of time. Soon it would be dark - soon the beast would hunt.

Afy's words ran through the halfelf's mind. *One door or ten doors, it's all the same,* he repeated in his mind. Yet that was the key, or so he thought.

"Doors," the boy's voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Doors would stop the nightmare from going any further."

The statement was only partially correct, and he knew it. The nightmare had the ability to travel between the Astral, Ethereal, and the Prime Material planes, and perhaps a few others. It therefore could fade from that plane, travel the distance of the door, and then appear again on the other side. Of course it wasn't even that simple, for the ethereal winds, planar phasing, and other such factors made that kind of pinpoint accuracy a tricky proposition at best. Yet that was for non-natives to those regions. He couldn't be sure how skilled the nightmare might be at planar displacements.

*Besides,* he thought, *unless it knows what's beyond the door, it wouldn't do that. It's too risky.*

If the creature reappeared in a location already occupied by matter, it could be killed, stunned, or hopelessly lost in the void. That's what his master had explained to him one day, and why dimensional hopping between the planes was often a pretty bad idea for attempts to move past walls and doors, while still an excellent idea for moving vast distances from open space to open space, like to known empty meadows or fields, often just outside of towns.

Of course he might not have been paying too close attention to that lecture since such means of travel were well beyond him, and probably would be for quite some time. He had always figured he would pick it up as he went along and when those options finally were within his own reach. Only now did he finally realize the information might actually have been useful before then, even though he didn't posses such abilities, for other creatures did, and what they could or could not do might make all the difference in the world.

*Damn,* he thought.

Raising his voice so that the others could hear, Mystir gave his conclusion. "We search until we find doors." Shifting his gaze back towards those still remaining in the room, he continued. "The nightmare can't open doors, so I think we should check the left corridor until we reach a dead end." He regretted using those words the moment they departed his lips.

Noticing that most of the party was focused on the right corridor, the boy peered down it. Staring at the blue field for minutes on end hindered the halfelf's vision, yet he could make out two figures.

"Guys," he raised his voice enough to carry to the rest of the group, "I think we should check the left hallway."

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: A Memory Of The Night.

A clear memory surfaced.

----------------------------------------

The darkness lay everywhere and had engulfed everything. His comrades, the giant trees of the Mallorn Forest that they lay in, were equally lost to the night. Even with his heightened senses, Sefarlain could hardly make out the captain who was leading the young trainees out on their first real patrol of the year without the benefit of moonlight that was normally omnipresent on Orlantia.

The sounds of the forest had seemed to surround Sef, making him disorientated and confused. Ghostly images danced in and out of the peripheries of his vision - tricks of his own mind that turned him from one way to the next. He knew they weren't real, but their presence left him straining his eyes to make out the real dangers hidden in the blackness.

*How could anyone hunt in this,* he thought. *I can barely see my own hand.*

'All right,' the Valantaúr captain had whispered. 'This will do. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, listening to you crash around. If you think it's as bad for your enemies, I'll help you remove the orc arrows from your back personally. There are plenty who can see a lot better in true darkness than you can. Your eyes are not always your best assets, my noisy friends. Now let's move out, and keep it down. I, at least, would like to get home in one piece!'

----------------------------------------

Sefarlain peered into the gloomy corridor of Moonstone Temple, while the words of his trainer came back to him. Who would have thought that a forest patrol could have been useful in a hidden temple to his own God?

*No way of staying hidden in the dark with a torch in my hand, but how else do I see?* he mused.

An answer lay nearby. Larethian had gathered this group for a purpose, which meant there must be someone in the group that could help them in the darkness of the temple. As he watched Wyn examine the door, his mind came up with a possible solution.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: A More Cautious Approach.

Febriwyn turned and looked at Bebe for a moment, letting his arms drop to his side. The gnome was standing before the previously unseen door, looking uncertain about how best to proceed. That wasn't too surprising since druids usually only interacted with the natural environment, and not dwarven crafted stone.

Elven eyes - mixed gray and blue, as if the center of a stormy sky - look up from the hesitating druid to focus on Sefarlain near the large blue field. A dozen thoughts ran through his mind, but one action, a curt nod, expressed them all. Sefarlain was right; he was being impetuous.

"Sefarlain, don't fret for me. Ensure the passageway east remains clear. If the nightmare does indeed reside within those dark halls, it will have to come past you all to get out. We don't want to face it without first knowing if danger resides elsewhere. Remember that we barely hurt it last time. We need to fight it as a group against an individual, and not all of us against it PLUS whatever might be hiding behind these doors, as well."

As he spoke the words, Febriwyn turned back to the door, trying to appear professional as he searched the edges, the cracks, the indentations, the handle, and the floor before the portal for traps. As the searching came near its completion, Febriwyn spoke quietly, evenly, "Bebe, join the others; let me check all these doors for traps first."

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: A Quick Look.

Bebe wasn't certain what to do. She wanted to do as Afy had asked, but Wyn seemed determined to proceed with his own plans. Her choice then became to either try and stop Wyn, or clear out, and since the elf was already busily probing the door, it was too late to really stop him. Besides, she knew, she really wasn't up to tackling the secret door that could well be trapped. In a way, she was grateful. What Afy would say, however, remained to be seen.

Bebe backed out of the hall, passing Sef who stood there clinging to his sword while watching Wyn.

*What the . . . ?* Afyanna thought, as Wyn didn't retreat as instructed. Like it or not, the newest member of the team had committed to an action. In truth, Afyanna didn't know what to do at first except watch.

Cautiously, Wyn probed the westernmost portal, but eventually determined there were no traps - none that he could detect, anyway. He opened the door with a gentle tug and it opened easily, as if it had been used everyday. It was either well built, in excellent, dry conditions, or currently still in use. All signs, fortunately, indicated the former rather than the latter.

Only a little light from the blue-white filed streamed past him and into the room beyond, revealing a small anteroom about fifteen to twenty feet deep and perhaps ten feet wide. Along the north wall was another door a good three strides in, but immediately to his left stood another door.

*Great, two more doors. How many others might be beyond those?* he thought. *At least nothing seems recently disturbed here,* he saw, and then he closed the door.

"Wyn?" Afy whispered to him. He waved her off, determined to check out the doors to make certain nothing would surprise them from that quarter.

"I'll just be a few minutes. That's not much to ask for the added security," he added.

Checking the door leading south, he again found no traps and proceeded to open the portal with similar results. Excellent craftsmanship and conditions had maintained the area well.

Before him stood a somewhat larger room, this time with a few sticks of furniture so it appeared less barren than the anteroom. A door stood to his immediate right - the same door from the anteroom. From what he could see, the room was perhaps thirty feet deep and fifteen feet wide, but it led nowhere. There certainly was no beast within. He closed that door, too.

"Still nothing of danger," he whispered, and then moved back toward the secret door.

He next looked over the secret door. That one was much trickier and he pondered it for some time, but again concluded there were no discernible traps.

Pressing forward on a stone, putting considerable weight behind it, the wall finally slid upwards with an awe-inspiring silence. A block of granite, weighing tons or more, had moved up and out of the way with the barest of sound. Before him a stairway went downward into the darkness. He could not see how far down it went. All he could tell was that it, too, looked like no one had used the passageway in many, many years.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Hesitation.

The tension in the main chamber was palpable as Wyn probed each of the doors in turn. Sef did not turn around to catch Afyanna's eye, but could almost feel her anguish at the newcomer's actions. He noted with considerable relief that the elf was familiar with forms of door 'protection' that temples sometimes employed to keep unwanted visitors at bay. The checks were deftly finished, and despite himself, Sef smiled when Wyn reappeared.

As the huge granite block slid back and then upwards without so much as a sound to reveal the secret passageway, Sef approached the elf quietly.

<Elvish>"That was well done, brother. Anything of concern?"</Elvish>

Wyn shook his head slightly.

<Elvish>"No. Just a few tables. I haven't looked thoroughly but it looks unused. What about this, though?"</Elvish> He nodded in the direction of the narrow stairwell that vanished into pitch-blackness.

<Elvish>"Mmm. Maybe a look later. At least it looks unused. It looks like this corridor should be safe for the moment, but the other one is still open. Will you help me explore there as well?"</Elvish>

Sef moved away to allow Wyn to think about what he had said, and returned to the main hall. He chose to avoid raising the issue with Afyanna for the moment, and instead reported Wyn's findings to the group.

"If stealth is the prerequisite, I can scout ahead as far as the end of the corridor," he began, "but without a light source, there won't be much more I can do, which will defeat the point. Will anyone come with me who can see better than I underground? I'll scout first and wave you forward after."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Is Relieved.

Bebe wasn't too enthused about checking out the secret door, and as soon as Febriwyn gave her an excuse, she hightailed it back down the corridor Afyanna sent her up.

*Sure, I would love to know what is down there, but am I really qualified to open it?*

True, all those years learning to manipulate different mechanisms might help her open the door, but locks and traps were not her cup of tea.

As she moved back into the main part of the chapel, she mentioned to Mystir in passing, "I have to agree with you. I don't believe that hellish horse could be behind one of those doors. I think we should follow what you suggest and only check the open areas. After all, we may have to get back to the village. We could always come back later to do a more thorough investigation, bringing the proper equipment we need for such an undertaking."

Bebe shot a look towards Afyanna just so she knew what side of the argument the gnome leaned toward, all the time wondering how Afyanna would take the first major challenge to her authority in the matter.

*I hope she will be able to accept the council of her present captains - a sure sign of a great leader to come.*

Bebe finally took up a position just slightly left of the blue sphere where she had a good field of vision down both corridors if needed, and nervously gripped 'Mick' and waited.

-Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: A Torch Will Do.

Febriwyn turned his attention from Sefarlain as the other spoke to the group. This door, how did it close?

A few minutes of examination and Febriwyn stepped within the portal, out from beneath the block, and pulled the lever. Almost instantly, large weights started shifting and the door began to lower with but a breath of friction. The design was truly extraordinary. Relinquishing his fascination with the machinery, Febriwyn slipped back into the hall under the lowering door.

<Elvish>"Sefarlain, I'll accompany you. Perhaps we can light a torch and keep it mostly covered, releasing only a little light. More likely than not, anything we find in the dark down there will be used to it while we won't. I doubt having a light will harm us." </Elvish>

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: The Dark Hall.

Sefarlain, a well-prepared scout, just happened to have some torches in his pack. A simple stick, its end was wrapped in old rags that had been dipped in waxy tallow and wrapped again for clean storage and transport. They were quite easy to light, and after a little work, he lit one of them and, with Wyn right behind him, ventured further along the dark eastern hall.

Taking a moment, he peered down the long staircase heading down and directly east. As far as he could see, the stairs continued downward until they were lost at the torch light's limits. That corridor down was narrower than most of the other halls, and Sef suspected the nightmare wouldn't be able to negotiate it, so he passed it by for the moment. What lay ahead concerned him more.

The slanting southeast hall quickly turned directly south and opened into a large room.

Any room whose far walls weren't immediately apparent under benefit of raised torch light was an impressively large room. Most humans could see into pitch darkness about twenty feet or so with a good torch, but elves had a slight advantage there and might see as far as thirty. Sef still couldn't make out any walls from where he stood at the hall's end. It was only when he moved to the left to allow Wyn room to move up next to him that he spotted the eastern most wall to his left, just at his vision's limits.

The near walls were lined with shelves apparently stocked with supplies in numerous jars. Pickles? What's that? Tomatoes? Beans?

*The place looks like a large pantry,* Sef thought. He moved forward, torch raised, trying to find the far southern wall, and was about five strides in when he saw it. Barrels and barrels of something or another. More shelves, too. He moved west until he saw the next wall. All told, the giant pantry and storeroom was about 40 to 50 feet deep, and 75 to 80 feet wide. Narrow stone columns dotted the room, breaking it up into smaller segments while supporting the ceiling. Through them, a barely detectable corridor led west from the southwest corner of the room.

It was clear there was no nightmare there. Walking past boxes and crates, he ventured over to the corridor and looked down it though the archway. An impressive arched hallway stretched to the west as far as he could see, and then some.

*If it keeps going straight, it'll lead back toward those other rooms Wyn checked out earlier. They probably connect,* he figured.

With no nightmare in sight, Sef returned to the others and made his report.

"Lots of food in there. Who knows how old it is or even if it's any good anymore, but at one time, it was a well-stocked pantry."

"A pantry? In a temple?" Andrew asked. Apparently, the young villager had finally summoned the courage to leave the stairs and follow them into the pantry. He looked calmer, now that no nightmare was known to be anywhere in sight.

"Yes, a temple's priests live in or around the temple. Many sacrifices might be food offerings, and even some tithes might be paid in foodstuffs. It's not all that unusual," Afy said, thinking back to the temples at home. "Of course, you'd have to be pretty hard up to actually eat anything that old. Who knows what's happened to it, or how long it's been there. With a few exceptions, I wouldn't risk it," she told them all.

"What about wine?" Bebe asked. "That's supposed to be better with age."

"Well, yes, wine. Alcohol, you know, keeps it safe. Foods high in acid might too," Alana was telling them some of what she knew. "And that all assumes proper preparation and storage. Any containers that leaked would undoubtedly be spoiled. Even wine might be corked, or if not laid down properly such that the wine was in contact with the cork, might dry out and let air in. You'd only have so much vinegar then," she laughed, remembering coming across such a bad bottle back in one of the monastery's pantries.

"Is there any wine in there?" Afy asked, wondering about Joad's wine cellars.

"I didn't really look around that much," Sef said. "Nothing stood out as a wine rack, but I admit I was looking for something decidedly larger and with four hooves, and not so much for any killer bottles."

"Here!" someone whispered. It was Cosher who spoke. "This looks like a wee drop here," he smiled. Sure enough, there was a small rack in the northwest corner, containing perhaps three dozen, down turned bottles of wine. Picking one up, Cosh gave out a low whistle.

"This lassie is 270 years old," he gasped.

"Let me see that!" demanded Andrew.

Cosh didn't mind. He had thirty-five other bottles to inspect, so he handed it over to Andrew and picked up another. All of them were dated sometime between 420 and 459 A.E. No bottles were newer than 459 A.E., so the last one laid down was put there over 269 years ago.

"What's it worth?" Wyn asked, his tone a bit mercenary, though he didn't mean anything by it. He just often thought in terms of cash value on the open market.

"Hundreds, maybe thousands of gold pieces," Andrew stammered. "If it's still sealed, and it looks like it is, this could be incredibly valuable to the right people. It might takes years to auction it all off and get its full value, but even if you dumped it all for a quick sale, it's probably an impressive amount," he told them. "Easy!" he whispered through his teeth at Cosh. "Gently. Lay it down gently. You have to treat such bottles carefully, otherwise the sediments get stirred up and might ruin the wine," he explained. Clearly, they weren't the sorts of things one carried around in a knapsack.

"Put it back," Afy ordered them. "They'll be safe here for now. We have other more pressing concerns. And like it or not, it may technically be temple property, or rightfully belong to the church of Larethian."

"You mean it isn't ours?" Tyrulf asked.

"Well, yes and no. Since the temple's been abandoned, even if the church lays a claim on it, better than 50% of its value would be ours according to church law. If I recall correctly," she finished, for the intricacies of church policy on salvage rights had never been of such interest to her that she memorized them.

"What do you think we should do now?" Alana asked Afyanna.

Afyanna just looked around for a moment in silent contemplation.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Hunt Continues.

The light from the torch threw strange shadows around the large room - *A room that hasn't seen light for at least two hundred years,* Sef thought. He looked at the dust-covered bottle in Cosher's hands and marveled at how brief was the time span of men that they would spend so much for wine that was only just older than himself.

"We haven't found any evidence so far that the nightmare is here," noted Andrew, "so I think it would be prudent if we left now."

"Sounds like ma kinda idea," mumbled Cosher, and turned towards the corridor they had just exited.

"I think we're all forgetting the archway. Looks big enough for a horse to me," noted Wyn.

The unpalatable truth was that the newcomer was right, and the group shifted uneasily in the dark room. Their options were limited, as Sef realized, and he was the first to speak up.

"Well, time is limited. Afy, if you prepare everyone once again in case we disturb something, Wyn and I will finish this job. Here, I have a couple of torches left."

He handed the remaining flares to Afyanna and lit them before turning towards the final corridor.

"Wyn, keep your eyes open on the walls and floor. There may be something unexpected here. And if I shout, we run back to the others. I don't think we can deal with this horse on our own."

Wyn shrugged. "No matter. Come on then."

And with that, the two walked silently over to the archway.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Arched Hall.

No one disagreed checking out the arched hallway would be prudent, and so once again the pair of elven scouts went forth. Others, now equipped with Sef's spare torches, remained behind, looking through old stores.

Under typical conditions, nearly everything down in a disused subterranean complex would have been, well . . . pretty disgusting after such a long period. Cobwebs, rust, mold, mildew, slime and other fungi, bugs and rodents along with a plethora of other creepy crawlies would have made the place their home long ago. But not there, apparently.

Oh, things were not pristine - far from it, but they were far from disgusting, too. At most, one saw dust and some minor rust. There was no water damage or seepage anywhere. The floors, walls, and ceilings were dry. And the most amazing aspect of the place was the total lack of vermin.

*Of course,* it suddenly dawned on Afyanna. *This place is still sanctified and imbued with His holy presence.*

"This is still holy ground," Afy warned everyone. "Most churches, temples, and even many shrines have blessings cast upon them, thus protecting them from the majority of minor incursions, like vermin, or even some spells. The sanctity of the altar has not been defiled," she said with pride.

Meanwhile, Sef and Wyn walked the length of the new hall until it turned sharply north. Within their torch's light appeared an arched portal leading into a smaller room. There was no sign of any nightmare.

A quick look at the room revealed a kitchen of sorts - disused, in fact left in some disarray, but obviously quite some time ago. There was a fireplace there - within it, a metal radiator. It was cold and dead.

Sef had seen such things before, but with a more rustic and rural upbringing, he had not seen them often.

"A Continual Heat spell," he said. "Not really all that 'continual' after all, eh?" he smiled.

It was true. Despite some spell's names, most spells were not of infinite duration. Though a Continual Light spell might last more than a single elven lifetime, the Continual Heat spell's duration was measured only in decades, though through careful intermittent use, perhaps centuries. Such a spell was beyond most people's economic means, but within larger cities, one could rent them at a fair, yearly rate.

Expired as it probably was, it held no significant value beyond the bulk iron of the radiator that probably weighed over a hundred pounds, so they left it behind.

Beyond the kitchen, through another small arch, lay a room. In fact, a few rooms were there, all quite small, the totality of which was clearly a cozy little apartment for the temple's priest.

Wyn checked out a few more doors but found no traps. There was a desk, some mostly empty bookcases, a couple of end tables and two chairs, a bed, a closet, and a toilet pit - almost certainly seeded with green slime down the deep, dark hole beneath the porcelain throne.

Many a fool had met their end because they had thought green slime would make an ideal weapon. The truth was, it was just too dangerous to handle as a weapon. It would leak out of its container, seep through a cracked vessel, or in all manner of ways manage to find one's own skin, if not one's friend's hides as well. Such fools only had several minutes to realize their fatal mistake before being horribly consumed. A fortunate few with handy torches, however, only went through the rest of their lives badly scarred from fire that had mercilessly been applied to arm, leg, or even face, to save their lives. It was never a pretty sight.

The fact deep, funnel shaped pits seeded with green slime could be safely used at all to handle sewage was actually quite a marvel, but only professionals knew all the tricks of handling it. They, and their predecessors, had had decades or more of experience to learn their craft. Relative new comers only had one chance to get it all perfectly right, and quite simply, it didn't happen all that often, and the consequences were typically quite unfortunate.

All in all, the priest of the temple had lived quite well - a rather comfortable life would have been afforded to them from the looks of things.

Wyn grinned, looking around, and finally spied a door leading south, of which Wyn guessed he had already seen the other side of that very door from a different vantage point.

"There's no nightmare here," Wyn said. "Why don't you go and get the others while I look through this stuff for clues?" he asked Sef.

Sef briefly wondered about the rogue's trustworthiness, but let it go. He would not be gone all that long, anyway, and so he legged it back to the pantry and called for the others to join them. Within minutes, everybody was back in the apartment.

"There's not much here," Wyn said, looking through some things on the desk. "It looks like most personal items were removed from these rooms, but on the desk there is something interesting."

"What did you find?" Afy asked him.

"The journal of Anlashok. I haven't read it yet, of course," he said, handing it to Afyanna.

A leather-bound volume bearing a waxing quarter crescent moon found its way into Afy's waiting hands. Along the top, carved into the leather, it read: 'The Journal Of Anlashok.'

*So, Anlashok WAS a priest of Corellon Larethian,* she realized.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: An Empty Nest.

There were many possibilities that had crossed the ranger's mind on entering the hidden temple of Larethian, but not finding their foe had not been one of them. However, they knew so much more of what had happened in Wrath that the disappointment of not facing his enemy once again barely crossed his mind. The excitement that the news of the journal's discovery brought to the group only added to this. The mysterious priest's tome could well hold the key to the whole mystery in Wrath.

In the meantime, the group faced some stark choices, and without the luxury of time to decide. Sefarlain held his torch aloft so that he could see the faces of his friends in the small room. The light flickered and danced around the walls.

*Damn,* he thought. *These torches won't hold out too much longer.* In fairness, he usually carried only two or three of the tallow torches for emergency use, not being very experienced in underground exploration. Their light was excellent, but prone to wind and didn't last as long as a decent lantern. The hot tallow dripping onto Sefarlain's cloak reminded him of other advantages to a lantern, but the cost of such a piece of equipment had been outside his meager budget.

"Time is short," the ranger began, his voice slightly stronger now that the hell horse could not be found. "If you ask me, I think these torches will last ten to twenty minutes more. I suggest we come back and look around properly with some decent equipment once we've finished with the nightmare. There is quite a bit of preparation we need to do first, so I think we should leave now. The rest of this place will wait until then."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Helps Herself In The Dark Hall.

Bebe lagged behind a little ways, keeping an eye on what was behind the group. She felt a little vulnerable next to the torches, and it kept messing up her night vision. *I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb,* she thought.

She was real interested in the wine, though. It had been a while since she had a really good bottle of wine. *A wine aged that long must truly be divine,* she thought while contemplating the consequences of relieving the temple of a bottle for closer inspection later. It was obviously doing no one any good just sitting there in the dark.

"Hey Cosher," she whispered. "Maybe we should secure a bottle to see where it came from and to check it out thoroughly. I sure wouldn't want to go through a lot of trouble moving these bottles just to find out later that they had turned sour a hundred years or so ago. What do you think?"

*This was the temple wine, but after all, were we not here at the bequeath of its patron?* she was thinking. *Surely he left it here untouched to reward his faithful followers.* Then again, she really didn't want to insult Afyanna, since she was kind of like a direct representative.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Bebe could talk herself into most anything, given enough time to think about it.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: A Tempting Vintage.

The group left the priest's quarters as they had entered, save for the leather-bound journal that Afyanna still clutched tightly. The light from the torches was still strong, but Sef had enough tallow on his clothes to show the dubious wisdom of reading a dry book under such conditions. At least, that was what Sef had assumed as everyone in the room desperately wanted to find out the contents of the journal, but it was Afyanna's honor and responsibility as one chosen by Larethian himself to read such words.

They made their way back along the corridor to the large pantry, heading towards the main altar room, where Bebe stopped at the large wine rack that contained so many ancient bottles of Wrath's wine. She reached out and stroked a few of the bottles, disturbing a thin layer of dust over each one.

Her intent seemed to be to take a bottle, but the gnome seemed uncertain, as if she was unsure of the correct course of action.

*Should she take a bottle?* thought the ranger. Only he and Afyanna were direct worshippers of Larethian, he assumed, but the rest of the group was also involved in the holy quest. Did Larethian really want them to use wine that was dedicated to him? And what did Bebe want the wine for? He thought he should ask.

"Bebe," the ranger began, "if you want some of this wine, I would feel happier if we offered it as a gift to Larethian. After all, that is why we are here, and it may have been His will that we find it. But I'd rather do that once we've beaten this nightmare, as an offering of thanks, not just now. Then we can look properly at it and make sure we're not depriving the church of thousands of gold pieces. Would you mind?"

In truth, the elf could see from the gnome's eyes that there was no malicious intent, though an intense curiosity betrayed her actions. And who was to say what was right? Perhaps Afy had other ideas? He looked to her in the light, aware time was running out.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Vintage Violation.

Listening to Sefarlain, Bebe decided she had better wait to taste the sweet wine of victory. *I guess it is best not to offend a God,* she thought.

She turned and followed the group back out of the chamber, only looking behind her once to peer into the dim light. Partly to make sure there wasn't something sneaking up on them and partly because she was sure that one of those bottles of wine may be the very best her lips may ever taste.

She finally sighed deeply as her small hands gripped the comforting weight of 'Mick' and turned her full attention back to rearguard security.

-Shelly (Bebe)