Autumn 1372

"Very well," the mage nodded while readjusting the straps on his shoulder. "I guess the only question left to be answered is how long I have before we set out again. I would like to replenish my spell repertoire before doing so, and certainly drop these off in the safety of my study."

The priestess clapped Kaldric warmly on the shoulder, her pleasure at the mage's decision evidenced by her smiling face. She had no doubt that his aid in this matter would speed their search along dramatically! Time, it seemed, was of the essence.

"Well, if an hour or so would be enough for you to prepare the necessary spells, that would give me plenty of time to see about gathering any cold iron weapons might be available to us. Then I can also spend a little more time in the library learning what I can about this molydeus demon in case he happens upon us again... "

Removing a tiny curl of soap from her pouch, Ashara uttered a brief prayer under her breath to cleanse herself of all the ick coating her hair, armor and skin beneath. A hot bath was not in her immediate future it seemed. Thankfully there were other ways of managing cleanliness when such things wouldn't normally be feasible!

She was about to speak again, when a whisp of shadow flitted across her features. The recognizable iron tang of blood was still present in her mouth. The spell had done its work certainly, but sometimes a scent, a feeling...or a taste can trigger old memories that magic cannot simply wash away. By the Renewing Grace of Lathander, she wished it could! Scars that would not heal had etched themselves as permanently on the young priestess' mind as they had on her body.

"Perhaps we can meet in about an hour to collect the rerebrace and decide where we'll be traveling to first?" Ashara bowed low in deference to the white robed priestess. "By your leave of course, Abbess!"

"Of course..." She answered with a smile.Swinging her arm wide she waved them on towards the tower. It did her heart good to listen to these friends, both new and old, joking after so harrowing an adventure. Many dangers roamed Myth Drannor... Few as deadly as the guardian demon. Few adventurers would have escaped that battle and fewer still would have a sense of humor afterwards... 'Hope indeed' she thought to herself...

As the abbess invited them back in, Elric leaned over to Ashara. Cleaner now than any hot water would have accomplished, yet she still carried that rose-petal scent. And he knew it wasn't just from her spell components. He just grinned and whispered, "Showoff..." Truthfully if he didn't think she may need all the spells available to her, He'd have asked to be imbued with that one... But not today. Today he'd make do with a cloth and water. Besides, like fresh clothing, he had a feeling that cleanliness was wasted on him as well..

Louder he added. "An hour sounds good to me. I'll clean up and burn these venom soaked things before anyone else gets infected..."

"Actually..." Jorelon blurted out. "Sister Ashara, neutralized that poison... Inside and out..."

The half-elf blinked. "Oh... I hadn't realized that... then... umm... I guess I'll... "

"Still burn them.. " The priest grinned.

"STILL burn them!" Elric agreed!

"Just don't worry about infecting anyone... But you may still worry about stains." Jorelon winked at Ashara. "The novices HATE dealing with stains...."

"Oh, I think that would have been happy to come back only stained!" Ashara chuckled, motioning to the bloody rag draped around his arm and shoulder as they walked toward the tower. "The novices can probably rest easy. My husband's shirts seem to come back in either pristine condition, or not at all. I'm afraid Myth Drannor has already taken a serious toll on his wardrobe..."

As the party entered the Dawnspire, they temporarily split up to make their own preparations for the journey ahead. Ashara was turning toward the armory to find some cold iron weapons to use against the molydeus, when Durlan stopped her.

"Now ye seem to know yer way 'round a mace, Mornin'lord," the dwarf conceded after she turned to face him, "but pardon me fer sayin' that it'll be a cold day before I let a priest pick out me axe!"

Fighting a grin, she nodded in agreement. "Fair enough. I just thought you might want to..."

"Want to what?" Durlan interrupted, eying her suspiciously through his bushy black eyebrows.

"Well...um..." Ashara could distinctly see what appeared to be a tooth stuck in the dwarf's beard. Orc maybe? Looked slightly pointy. "Some of the others were going to wash up a bit before..."

"Bah!!" He interrupted with a voice that bellowed down the stone hallway. "I ain't smellin' no worse than yerself, what with that stench of flowers hangin' about ye like it is. Makes me nose twitchy..."

"No no, I didn't mean... It's just that," Ashara laughed and scratched her chin in the approximate area where the tooth was buried in his beard. "Ah, nevermind..."

Until Dagadar, she'd never known much about dwarves except by reputation. Down there, far beneath the earth, the priestess discovered not only a deep admiration for their undeniable skills but she also found herself very much enjoying their company. Fierce fighters and fierce friends, nothing the dwarves did seemed to be half-hearted. She definitely looked forward to going back for a visit!

Durlan huffed in her direction but she didn't miss the crinkle of a smile at the edge of his blue eyes. "I'll be takin' care of scroungin' up some weapons fer us, ye just go see to yer books!"

Ashara let loose that grin as the heavily armored dwarf clanked off down the hall. No further protests forthcoming, she turned in the direction of the library to learn what she might about the powerful molydeus. Shouldn't take too long to find what she was looking for after familiarizing herself with that particular section of books the previous evening. The Abbess seemed to know of that type of demon, so she was confident that there would be something recorded about them. A good thing too! Ashara didn't know nearly enough about it or why it would be controlling a group of orcs and ogres, but whatever the reason, she had no intention of being unprepared if they ran into the beast again! Last time was far...far too close a call!! A shudder ran through her as she remembered the sight of Elric limping out to them as they were trying to escape. Not since the Shade had she seen the half elf so badly injured.

Sighing, Ashara turned to glance back down the hallway toward the living quarters. If you need assistance with that sponge bath, let me know and I'll make time, she Whispered to her husband playfully. Wouldn't want to miss a spot...

***

It was about three in the afternoon when the five companions set out once again, this time heading east into Dlabraddath. With the first piece of the Arm of Valor in hand, they'd decided to first explore Lover's Glade in search of the second. They believed that the temple of Sune was the answer to the portion of the riddle, 'Where love is worship', found in the rerebrace's tiny compartment. It was a decent place to begin.

The glade wasn't far and was likely to be a less treacherous journey than into the heart of the old city where the other pieces were thought to be hidden. Plus, considering the hour of their departure, it was also good to know that there might be a couple of safe-ish areas to rest for the evening if necessary.

Durlan managed to procure a cold iron axe and a pouch full of sling bullets, but with all of the different groups headed out into the ruins, the armory had been fairly well raided of such things. It would have to do. Tomorrow she could create a new sword for Elric to have on hand just in case....

Ashara had been a bit shaken by what she learned in her research on the molydeus. Not only could a bite from the snake head turn one into a demon, but Neutralizing Poison wasn't enough to prevent the transformation. A Remove Curse needed to be cast as well. A spell which Morninglords did not have access to... She did still have one scroll of it from back in the day, but ONLY one.

The poison was bad, but she wasn't sure if that was the worst of it. As Kaldric had told them earlier, the demon couldn't be hurt by any magical weapons or even holy water. They were highly resistant to magic and the axe they carried was a vorpal, dancing, cold iron great axe!! Ashara was still slightly ashen from the realization that if they hadn't been within the dead magic zone, there may not have been five of them heading out right now.

Jorelon led the group down the familiar gravel road back the way the Everdawn's had come. Suddenly he cut left towards where they had found the first piece of the ancient riddle.

"Jorelon... Where?!" Elric pointed further to the east. "We came from that way..."

"You took the long route." their experienced guide answered pointing toward the north. "Lover's glade is that way."

The half-elf's eyes arched upwards as he looked back toward the more familiar route. Working his memories around he finally nodded. "Your right... we did pass a couple of southern passes... I assume this is one of them?" The pries nodded confidently.

"However... we did pass them for a reason... There was something down here that we didn't think it very prudent to annoy... The horses agreed."

Jorelon raised an eyebrow at the half-elf who'd stood face to face with the molydeus and walked away. Any concern though was well placed. After Sister Ashara had explained the dangers of the demon more fully... they'd all gone a little paler. Especially the half-elf. There was little doubt after seeing the wounds the axe had left... that if it had been at full power, the brave warrior who'd covered their retreat wouldn't be here now...

"There's always 'Something' down the path... And what was there yesterday, may or may not be there today... It's nearly impossible to know for sure where danger will strike from. Best course of action is to take the most direct route possible and pray to Lathander for protection..."

"And ye wouldn't be remiss in throwin' something Tymora's way either..." the dwarf chuckled.

"Sooo danger all around, it pretty much comes down to this... Do you want to go back the way you came... or..... See something entirely new!"

Elric laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. "You win! We came to see as much as we could see... so as long as you know the way, I'll follow you..."

Kaldric chuckled a bit at their back-and-forth. "It's always nice to see a new dawn, and many argue it's better to be lucky than good," he began, not wanting to slight anyone's beliefs, "but it's wise to tell her what you're thinking, too. In fact, I'd call it rude to show her silence, if for no other reason than because we all grow lonely if we're given too much of it."

His eyes drifted to the side, studying the broken architecture around them. "Everyone speaks of her as if she's gone . . . nothing but a memory . . . something to be recaptured one day." He chuckled again, but this time it was a sound bereft of any joy. "So few want to admit that she's still here, that she's listening to us . . . that she's upset because of how things have changed. Sad, because too many discount her."

Kaldric reached out a hand and brushed the magnificent and scarred stone with the tips of his fingers. "If you love her, tell her so. If you hate her, don't hide it. If you want her help, ask for it." The Veil Initiate swept his gaze around to each of his companions, unashamed of the mistiness that had gathered in prismatic eyes. "But don't discount her. The gods have thousands to talk to them."

"As we've only just met," Ashara motioned to the ancient city surrounding them, " I can't claim to have the deep connection with Her that you do Master Hueart, but undoubtedly She holds within Her a great deal of knowledge and wisdom for those with the patience enough to sit at Her feet and listen! It's easy to see that you're one of these people!"

The priestess smiled warmly at the unusual mage. While Kaldric's views might be unconventional, it was apparent that he believed them with all his heart and soul, and considering her earlier luck casting some of her most powerful spells without having them twisted into arcane magic, who's to say that the Mythal wasn't swinging things in their favor? Who's to say that this fabled city of might and magic wasn't some sort of living entity?

Peering down the rubble strewn pathway to the north, standing within the eerie silence of the ancient city, it didn't take much imagination to believe that they were being watched. Ashara just hoped that the Mythal herself was observing them and not something more...sinister...

"I don't know how long we plan on visiting here," she said, turning her attention back to Kaldric, "but there is much I hope to learn about your wife in the time we have. I will say that from what we've seen of her so far...even in these unfortunate circumstances, Her beauty is without equal!"

The brightly colored autumn leaves still clung to the branches of the towering trees of Dlabraddath. From the road the were on, she could still see the majestic spiraling towers piercing the skyline far to the west. Even in ruin, they were a marvel. There was a chance they might get to see that evening view of the city from the glade just one more time. Definitely a sight to remember. Definitely a painting that she intended to do one day! It just depended on whether they were delayed or not on their journey to find the second piece of the Arm of Valor.

Ashara looked down at adamantite rerebrace that was currently buckled onto her right arm. She'd debated whether to wear the artifact at all but Alaecathra believed that one piece might aid them in finding another, and stashing the item at the bottom of the Haversack wouldn't do anyone any good!

To her surprise, the abilities of the item were revealed to her as soon as she strapped it on and it shrunk to fit her frame. Along with granting immunity to all illusion spells, the magical piece of armor could also increase the magical power of a weapon and granting it the ability to hit creatures it might not normally be able to. Dawnspeaker however, was too powerful to be affected by the enchantment. Because of that, she'd offered it to Jorelon to wear over his chainmail, but the priest was content with his starmetal mace and deferred to her higher ranking within the clergy. She felt slightly awkward and completely unworthy of wearing the artifact after hearing of its history and purpose, but until they returned to the Dawnspire, it seemed that Ashara would be the bearer of this particular piece of the Arm of Valor.

As the companions altered their path to the north, the priestess stepped up to her husband and put her arm around him, squeezing him gently before she was to return to her place at the back of the line.

"I know that magic can be a crutch sometimes, Melamin," She smiled brightly and patted the hilt of the magical sword he had belted once again in its accustomed place. "But as you've already more than proven yourself down in Gemblaunt, it's good to see you with your old sword at your hip and that ring glowing on your finger! Everything seems to be as it should be once again... For now at least!"

"I agree whole-heartedly. This sword and I have been through a lot..." Elric smiled wistful as the memories flooded in. He gripped the hilt and admired the familiar feel of the leather wrapping. "I'll admit. As eager as I am to replace this with the Everdawn blade... Part of me will be sad to retire this one..."

************

Dark eyes watched as the heroes passed by. Where they the ones? Slowly the silent observer slipped deeper into the shadows of a broken statuary lining it's rooftop. Perhaps they were the ones he'd been watching for... Leathery wings wrapped around itself. He would keep watching...


**********

"Besides," Elric continued, oblivious to the eyes that watched his every move. "Vorpal... Iron... dancing?!?" A disheartened chuckle left his lips.

"That's... more than a crutch! That's downright cheating!" He shook his head in wonder. The fact that such a thing even existed amazed him. He thought the 'hand axe of returning' at his side was impressive... "I don't feel the least bit guilty of getting the first hit in!"

The priestess nodded in agreement. The mere thought of that axe was horrifying! Fact was...when faced with the molydeus, there was very little she could do personally, unless perhaps Kaldric was able to Lower Resistance on the demon as Therogeon had been known to do on occasion, but if that axe was loosed it presented an entirely new problem. A second deadly foe!

She whispered another brief prayer of protection over herself and her companions, then for good measure, a prayer to Tymora as well. Durlan was right...a little luck in this endeavor certainly couldn't hurt!

After her research in the library, Ashara took a little time to pay a visit to the uppermost room of the tower. The new knowledge she possessed of the molydeus and their clash with it down in Gemblaunt had shaken her more than she had been willing to let on and she'd sought out the peace that the presence of the Dawnstone offered. It was comforting to see the Everdawn Blade still hovering there over the altar. A reassurance that in spite of the situation, Lathander still had faith in them to come through this and so too should they have faith in themselves to overcome these new and terrifying obstacles. With the warmth of the Endless Dawn shining on her face, the priestess found her courage again.

'"A trusted blade shouldn't simply be set aside," Ashara replied as she watched the memories of past battles play through his mind. "I hope that one day your father's sword...our family's sword may become as much of an extension of you as this one, but there's plenty of time for that!"

Smiling up at the half elf, she withdrew her arm. "Once the necessary components are gathered for imbuing the enchantments we've chosen for it, I will still have to find a place to build an altar. The Everdawn Blade is an even greater request than the one I made for that ring... So much so, that a new altar will need to be specifically prepared for its creation. It'll take some time yet," she winked.

"But even when it's finished, there's no rule that says you can't bring two swords to a fight and it turns out that I don't mind carrying your stuff after all!" Ashara chuckled and readjusted the Handy Haversack on her shoulder.

"No... I suppose there isn't..." Elric said with a grin. If the Molydeus... or anything else that required a 'specific' thing to hit appeared, he'd be doing just that. He wanted his own familiar sword with him... but he had never been opposed to using whatever was necessary.

As was evidenced by his own appearance. When he'd just left Evereska the first time, he'd only carried a walking staff and some throwing knives... Now? The half-elf did a mental inventory of his sword, axe, knives... the new sickle... He rarely carried the flind bar anymore, and Therogeon had the Staff of Thunder and Lightning...

Still, at first glance he imagined few people expected the attacks to come from hands and feet... much to their disappointment.

Suddenly and unearthly howl echoed from the northwest, stunning the group to silence. Quickly scampering for the cover of an old abandoned building, it was a harsh reminder that this wasn't a pleasure stroll.

The sound of heavy breathing was the only sound they heard, and after a few spine-tingling moments, (and no warning from his ring...) it was deemed safe to look about.

"Any idea what THAT was?" Elric asked the more seasoned explorers. To only receive shakes of their heads in reply.

"Bahhh.. Could be anything..."

"I don't know," Jorelon countered the dwarf with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Didn't sound like an orc... or a hobgoblin... Certainly not a beholder..."

The dwarf glared at the priest. "Almost anything then!"

"Sounded pretty big..." Elric said daring a quick glance out the hole they had entered. "How big do they get around here?

"Narlgathra!" the two answered in unison, and much too quickly for Elric's taste. Raising an eyebrow he simply waited for further explanation. The dwarf cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Narlgathra's the red dragon around these parts..." Noticing the half-elf flinch a bit he nodded seriously. "Big one she is... and said to have a massive treasure horde... but ain't nobody come back from lookin' for it."

"That's the biggest... " Jorelon spoke up. "She may or may not be the most 'Dangerous..."

"Ain't much higher on the food chain then dragon's." Durlan said with a bitterness that indicated he'd like nothing better than to be rid of the beast... and undoubtedly get a shot at the treasure. "Still we've got demons, liches, and just about every other nasty ye can imagine... But she is the 'biggest."

Elric flinched as he looked outside again, scanning the sky. "You think that was her?"

"Ehhh... could be anything." Jorelon said noncommittally. "I don't recommend dwelling too heavily on all the things you 'could' find out there..." He winked at the Everdawns. "It may have even you two running for the hills..."

"So noted... " Elric agreed half-heartedly. Suddenly he perked up and started scanning the large warehouse shaped building. "Very well... where are we now?"

After a little searching it became obvious that it was some kind of textile and cloth business. "Undeiall Hegaeril: Furs, silks, & Cloth..." He read on some old carvings on the walls.

The place was dark and dirty, but structurally seemed more intact than most they had seen. Broken looms and ancient needles were scattered about. What truly staggered the warrior was when he found full sets of clothing still intact.

"What in the world?" he whispered aloud.

"We've found that a lot more than I would have thought... " Jorelon said unimpressed. "Apparently many elves had some kind of minor enchantment that protected their favorite things from the ravages of time..." He smirked a little. "Doesn't do anything for blatant damage though... So I think you're probably still out of luck."

"I don't know about that..." He whispered to his wife. "[i]I think we could fill a closet here for you... Though you may not go outside..."

With a glint in his eye he raised up a dress that would be considered scandalous in Waterdeep, let alone the poor sheltered fishing community of Impresk. The cloth was soft and thin, with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. It wasn't alone. Most of the clothing they found there was obviously designed to cover as little possible and provide no protection from the elemental at all.

"Are you sure?" Ashara teased in her whispered reply before producing another dress woven in brilliant sapphire blue and silver thread. There couldn't have been more than two handfuls of material all told. "This one has mid-summer festival in Evereska written all over it and you did say something about asking Vailis to invite us next year..."

Chuckling, she just shook her head and sighed. "Elves..."

The hint of disapproval in her voice seemed to be mostly for show, since it did nothing to stop her from carefully bundling up both dresses and another with slightly more fabric, and placing them in the Haversack for safe keeping.

Along the wall, stacks of men's clothing lay in a pile on what once must have been a table. Just as the women's fashions had been, it seemed the tailors and seamstresses here created garments less to cover and protect the skin so much as accent and advertise it. Most of the shirts seemed to be sized much too small to supplement her husband's dwindling wardrobe, but there were a few exceptions. One such exception caught her eye.

The fabric was heavier than expected and grey in color but not made of any material she immediately recognized, and it slipped off her hand so smoothly, it was as if it was being poured. When the light from the doorway glinted off the shirt, the priestess realized that she did recognize the material, though in an entirely different form!

"Durlan??" She asked the dwarf in incredulous tones. "Is this?"

"Yep. Mithril." He stated flatly, indicating to Ashara that he'd seen such before. "Waste of a good metal too, me thinks. 'Bout as good for protection as any other cloth, though I s'pose it'd hold up to wear and tear a bit better 'n most. Silly elves came up with a way to spin the mithril as fine as spider silk and weave it into their clothes jest cause they like the shine of it. Dwarves ain't ones to take a perfectly valuable ore and make something completely useless out of it, ye see..."

Grinning, she took the shirt over to Elric and held it up to him. The neckline plunged as deeply as it had in the dress he'd just shown her but in this instance there were laces hanging opposite mithril eyeholes that would permit a bit more decency when done up. Durlan was right though...this was not made for any measure of protection!

"I've no doubt you'd put this fabric to the test, my dear, but this would definitely be something worth mending magically if something unfortunate happened to it. Huh..." Ashara tipped her head to the side and looked him over appraisingly. "Steel gray is a very good color for you!"

After the momentary distraction passed, the priestess cleared her throat and stowed the shirt away in the Haversack with their other finds.

"Do you think we're ready to press on to the north again, or should wait it out a bit longer?" She asked of her companions. "I've no desire to tangle with a dragon under these circumstances, though neither do we have much time to waste..."

Jorelon chuckled at the expression on the half-elf's face. Obviously he was still thinking about the blue dress he'd noticed Ashara display before shoving in the sack. Hearing Ashara's comment about Elves he figured he should set the record straight a bit...

"Actually... " he began pausing only for a few quick glances outside. "I've heard it said that was the 'fashion' around here. It was a sign of trust... and goodwill. The more trust there was, the more skin they showed.

"Of course the same could also be said... that the more 'vulnerable' they showed themselves to be... the less of a threat they saw you. The same concept only spoken a different way, can have a very different meaning..."

"Really??" Elric snapped back to the present. "The fashion isn't THAT different in Evereska... but I have never heard that reasoning..."

"Some things change... some things stay the same..." The priest shrugged. " Maybe they don't even acknowledge 'why' something came into fashion as much as explain it as 'that's what our ancestors wore..."

Elric nodded. "Tradition... Lots of things are done, simply because that's how they were done..."

"Exactly!" Jorelon beamed. "It was [i]especially popular to bare your... ummm... Well, To leave your uhhh... heart unprotected."

"Ohhh.. Is that what they did..." Elric said with a smirk.

"In a fashionable way... " Jorelon laughed. "Actually we've found some armor that was truly interesting... It's a suit of chain, that completely leaves the ummm... 'heart' area completely open. Looks ridiculous.... At least until you bring a sword near it. The moment a blade or weapon is nearby, the links stitch back together for protection... Fascinating really..."

"If yer' done talkin' about elf clothes... The way looks clear!" came a gruff voice from the door.

A romantic notion... To display your trust for a person with the clothing you chose to wear or not wear as the case may be. It did sound like a very elvish concept, especially after learning so much more about their culture from her time in Evereska. The elven language went far deeper than words. A weapon worn in a particular way. Averting one's gaze at certain moments in a conversation. Body language. Even the brightness of the lighting in an elvish home when a non-elf comes to visit is a sign of just how much that person is welcome there! The sum of all these things served to confirm or deny, enhance or detract from the words being spoken. All cultures seemed to do this to some degree, but elves were very deliberate in their actions.

Ashara wondered if this ancient practice in Myth Drannor might be part of the reason the Seekers presented themselves unclad each Dawnmeet. Did it serve as a display of trust in Lathander and toward each other? If so, it was a beautiful sentiment.

With little surprise, her thoughts were then led to Syrlynna and her actions those years ago at a spring festival that changed Elric's life. The other side of the concept that Jorelon presented. Was the elf maiden showing a sign of trust by wearing little more than a few scattered gems strung around her body, or was she simply making a statement about how little of a threat others were to her? How little a threat Elric was to her...

That wasn't a fair assessment, the priestess realized. It was a festival... No, it wasn't likely that she'd been working under such a tradition.

When Syrlynna came to the Everdawns shortly after the siege in Evereska was broken, she'd come with a very different attitude and fully dressed from neck to ankle. Her father had passed away. Her city reduced to ruin. All the little games she played in the past just to stir up trouble, looked petty and cruel when real trouble came to her doorstep. She'd come to apologize and at the time, Ashara could barely see past the red rage that boiled up inside her. It had been far too recently that she'd lived their little encounter through her husband's memories, and the presence of the beautiful elf tore open a barely healed wound in her heart. Pointless jealousy from a time before she would reconnect with her childhood friend. Fury that the actions of this one female would so change the course of his life, but gratitude that it had... It was a confusing tumult of emotion and Ashara was ashamed that she hadn't put her best foot forward in that surprise encounter.

But unknown to her husband, it hadn't been their last encounter.

A few days later, while Elric and Therogeon were spending some male bonding time together, Ashara spoke to Vailis who arranged a meeting between her and the Eaoleth daughter. Only after vowing that there would be no bloodshed of course... She hadn't been invited into the family home, she was human after all, but they met together that evening at the Starmeadow, a place of peace that remained relatively untouched by the recent war.

The two women came to a sort of understanding in that place. Not fast friends exactly, but there'd been a mutual mending of hearts that night. Forgiveness was asked for and received by both parties, prayers for departed friends and family members were offered up. Ashara came away from that meeting with a renewed spirit and another crack in the wall of general dislike for elves that she'd erected based largely on Elric's experiences as a child.

"Sister Ashara?" Jorelon's words jolted her from her memories. "Are you ready?"

The priestess blinked up into the man's face, which was still slightly flushed from his attempt to explain an 'unprotected...heart area'. She grinned at the irony. For the last twenty years, the priest had been spending his Dawnmeets with a lot more than just his heart unprotected, and yet he could still blush when trying to describe the particulars of elvish fashion!

"Yes, sorry, let's get going," she smiled in agreement. "And thanks for that little insight, brother!"

Slinging the Haversack onto her back again, Ashara took her place at the rear of the group as the moved quietly out of their hiding place and north toward the glade.

Quietly the group continued to the north. Whatever the roaring signalled seemed to be gone.The world around them was silent, which only made the sound from three sets of armor seem to echo through the fallen city.

A burly hand grabbed Elric's arm and the half-elf looked back at the dwarf. "Keep a good watch here... Very dangerous... One of the worst..." He muttered the warning as he glared back towards Jorelon.

"What happened to 'danger moves around?" Elric asked them, suddenly even more cautious.

"It does... but... a lot of it does seem to originate from around here..." Returning the dwarf's glare he added confidently, "Doesn't change the fact that it's the shortest route." He pointed up to the western side of the road ahead, and what was once a simplistic building. The holes in the walls and the blown out doors suggested it had seen more violence than most.

"That was the Naturalist's Hall... Near as we can tell, they used to study all sorts of creatures there... We've cleared it out a few times now" He grimaced as he looked across the street.

"If there is any trouble... do not seek refuge over there...." Elric blinked when saw what must have once been a magnificent villa. Little remained of it,but ruins... and not the type of broken and worn buildings that Elric was getting used to seeing. These were ancient. Whatever happened here, had happened much earlier than it had anywhere else...

"Dlardrageth Keep..." Durlan spat on the ground. The half-elf held his tongue as he waited for further explanation...

Jorelon shrugged. "I don't know much myself... The Abbess studied for years to find out what this was... But what I know is this. It's haunted.

"Long before the city opened it's gates, These elves did something bad... Like, 'Descent of the Drow' Bad."

"Word has it... the high mages locked the whole lot of them inside their own keep. Elves and demons and who knows what else... Locked forever inside... Till they all killed each other..." Durlan added in.

The priest nodded. "I've never been in there, but I've known a a few who've made it out... A lot fewer than went in anyway... Place is crawling with angry spirits... Whatever Wards the High Mages used to keep the souls out of their precious Arvandor are still there..."

Elric was speechless. What could have happened that they weren't content to just punish them in THIS life.. but to bar them from moving on?? He found himself asking uneasily, "Have the Lathandarians tried to get rid of them?"

Jorelon shook his head. "I think they tried years ago... but, like I said... More go in then EVER come out." He sighed in frustration. "Besides... the wards are holding, and we have enough trouble out here, then looking for more. Dlardrageth Keep was here throughout the history of the Cormanthyr."

He looked around at the heavily wooded section of the city... "My guess is, that they used to be on the outskirts of town, where nobody would bother the ruins... After the city expanded outward... they just built around it... Probably just ignored it... I guess when High Mages do something.. it's not so easy to 'undo it'."

Ashara shivered involuntarily. How awful would it be to live in this section of the city and have to walk right past this place on a daily basis, knowing that there were vengeful spirits inside just waiting to flay some living flesh from the bone?! It made her skin crawl... She wondered what House Dlardrageth had done, that their tower would serve as a warning to generations of elves.

"If the elven high mages were incensed enough by the actions of this family to come down on them this hard," she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the haunted ruin, "then I can't imagine that the Seldarine supported them either. I'd be surprised if Arvandor was even an option..."

Then again... After learning of the Seldarine's acceptance of the creation of baelnorn and lore spirits? Ashara sighed. She didn't know what to think about the elvish deities anymore and resolved to take the matter up with Vailis as soon as they got back to Evereska. That they would permit an elf to give themselves over to undea...

Suddenly the priestess' line of thought was interrupted by an all too familiar tingling sensation in the back of her mind just as a strange and...unexpected image of danger flitted into view.

"What the?!? Elric!" As she was shouting to him, Ashara realized that he was shouting out a warning to her as well!

From behind the Naturalist's Hall to the west as well as from a ruined building just south of them, three enormous mechanical scorpions skittered in. Well, as much as twelve foot long metallic arthropods could skitter... They whirred and buzzed like an old friend she used to know, but these particular automatons did not appear as harmless as Blinky!

Then, lying front of the Naturalist's Hall, Ashara noticed three corpses... Humanoid in shape...or former shape actually because the bodies had been torn in half. And not that long ago... There was no time for inspection! In spite of their slightly rusted and worn shells, the scorpions were closing in fast!

"I get that there are lots of different types of infestations in these ruins," she sputtered under her breath as she reached for Dawnspeaker, "but I did not expect giant mechanical bugs to be among them!"

"'Bug' is very loose--and dangerous--terminology to apply to scorpions," Kaldric warned, dipping a hand into one of his alchemical vial pouches and removing one of those uniquely constructed metal containers. "Too often, it refers to insect types"--he pivoted about to get a handle on every direction the golems attacked from--"when, in reality, scorpions belong to the arachnid family. Some rather uneducated scholars would argue that arachnids and insects are the same, but that's simply not the ca--"

The mage would have expounded further, but one of the metallic arthropods from the west closed ground quickly, and he exerted those energies to backpedal east!

Elric grinned as the 'arachnids' glided toward them. Danger was one thing... but it was nice to know when it was upon you. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed the power of his ring till the Sacred Guardian inside activated.

The automatons seemed intent on surrounding the small party, but Elric wasn't keen on that idea. "TAKE it to THEM!! He yelled out as he charged the one in front. He heard Durlan cut to the left for the western one. Which if things went well, left the other three to take out the one coming from behind...

If things went well.

The sword of speed slipped from it's sheath and struck as fast as it's master thought. Twice it scored deep lines on the slightly rusted frame and as metal scraped on metal, a high pitched whine filled the air. Hoping for the best he drove his fist into a segmented leg joint. He felt that... Felt it right through the wraps of Avin Yarth. He also felt the strike do damage... but not nearly enough.

"Kil'ral" he whispered clenching his sword tighter.

Claws came in retaliation, and seeing the solid metal serrated edges, there wasn't any doubt what tore apart the men up north. The creature didn't seem to be intellegent in the least... but it's instincts were good. Ducking one claw nearly left him in the grasp of another. The speed from his boots and the magic from his bracers saved him there. He was sure of it. As he twisted around the deadly tail spike that sparked with electricity, he took some comfort in the knowledge that THAT was all him...

The dwarf however didn't have the half-elf's speed, or his luck. What Durlan had was strength and stubbornness made legendary by his race. Head down, Shield up.... and Axe spinning he raced toward this new threat the way he'd done so many others. Sadly it wasn't always the best strategy.

As one claw bounced off his shield, the second snatched hold and squeezed with all it's mechanical might. A groan turned into a most undwarf-like squeal of pain as the creatures tail snaked in piercing the trapped dwarf and releasing the power trapped there in blinding flash of light.

The third construct was rushing in from the West and Ashara and Jorelon rushed up to meet it, hoping to keep those big metal pincers away from Kaldric.

They succeeded. In a way...

More quickly than it seemed possible and definitely more quickly than the two heavily armored priests could dodge, the scorpion's claws shot out grabbing both Jorelon and Ashara in it's crushing grip! Then Durlan's undwarflike squeal was echoed by an unmanly one as Jorelon was stabbed by the electrified stinger.

Ashara had no designs to try to pry herself from that vice-like grip. Kaber could probably free himself and then rip off one of the claws and bludgeon the creature to death with it, but pure unbridled strength was not listed among the young woman's assets.

Dawnspeaker was. Saying a quick prayer of thanks that her arms were free to attack back, Ashara struck again and again at the metal joint joining claw to arm. Each blow inflicted a dent in the shell, and each blow rang out among the ruins like her mother's dinner bell across the fields back in Impresk.

Hopefully nothing else would come looking to see what was being served...

And, suddenly, the situation vaulted from bad to worse . . .

Three of his companions were scooped up in the giant claws of two of the metallic constructs, and the third weathered the damage from the half-elf's blows far better than it should have! Just like that, the Vial of Freezing Air he held in hand became far less important than evening the odds back into their favor, which entailed eliminating a scorpion immediately. He knew there wasn't a spell in his memorized repertoire that could damage such a foe enough, but he happened to have one that might just do the trick anyway . . . if his wife felt in a caring mood to let it go through.

Oh, how he hoped she was that, because this one was expensive!

Replacing the metal vial into its case with his right hand, Kaldric retrieved a tiny glass container no larger than the tip of a gnome's pinkie finger with his left. Inside, a pinch of diamond dust sparkled in the sunlight. Be kind, love, he implored, unstopping the container, dumping its contents into his palm, and quickly closing his hand to keep a stray breeze from blowing away any of the precious component.

The Veil Initiate squared to the construct fighting with Elric, as that was the only one without a friend in its clutches, and began the relatively fast incantation that combined intricate hand gestures and a host of arcane syllables. Upon completion, he waved his hand forward, tossing the diamond dust into the air to release the spell.

When nothing visually happened, Kaldric flashed a grin of appreciation, knowing the Wall of Force had successfully encapsulated his target. "That one's contained!" he shouted to the warrior even as he turned toward the nearest creature wielding a pair of priests in its pincers. "Strike at another!"

Durlan felt his armor creak and shield start to crumple as the the mechanical beast squeezed. The dwarf flexed his mighty muscles and felt a bit of wiggle room. Pushing as hard as he could he found the smallest of gaps. And for a dwarf, the smallest of gaps was all he needed.

It wasn't a perfect plan he realized as gravity took hold and the stocky dwarf started to fall to the ground. Still it was better then the alternative. Suddenly he felt a jerking on his arm as his shield lodged in the mechanical claw.

There he was, dangling like a worm on a fishing line. His beard was puffed out and nearly engulfed his head from the shock of the Scaladar's tail. If the situation hadn't been so dire, it would have been hilarious. As it was any who saw the fury in his eyes wouldn't dare laugh.

Awkwardly flailing, his first swing went wide and the swinging twisted his trapped shield arm roughly. Screaming a cry to Clangeddin his axe resounded loudly off the claw. The blow dislodged his shield and he landed heavily to the ground looking up at the emotionless beast staring down at him.

Elric was still ducking and dodging as heard the wizard call out. Leaping toward it, his feet landed on something invisible and if the way the tail was slamming against it was an indication... something very solid! Not giving the trapped creature another moments thought. he coiled his legs and shoved off the wall, hard!

The mythal had been kind to the Everdawns. The vast majority of their magical attempts had been successful. Those that had not, only resulted in minor inconveniences or outright enjoyable experiences.

Not all the effects of the long damaged mythal were harmless though. Seeing the dwarf helpless Elric had intended to leap to his aid. As he willed his boots to carry him the mere 20' to his new target he felt something... wrong.

A wave of energy erupted from the half-elf's location, hurling the trapped Scaradal to the top of its invisible prison and dropping it back to the ground. The creaking of the metal was deafening as it quickly reasserted itself and continued the attack on wall...

Elric also tried to make sense of what had just happened. The half-elf had been flung through the air landing hard on the opposite side of Durlan's monster. Slowly he staggered to his feet and tried to get his bearings. He was dizzy, unsure of what was going on... for the life of him he couldn't understand why he was wearing nothing but his magical bracers and magical boots...

Indeed, a small pile of weapons were lying where he had landed, His magical items, including his axe, and beastman mask seemed to have survived intact. The metallic items such as his precious ring had been unharmed, but that was all that the magical surge hadn't rendered to dust.

Staggered and confused he called out for Ashara... For anyone to tell him what was happening...

The dwarf distracted by flying half-elves barely blocked the two claws that came snatching in. Once again, the tail slammed into the bleeding dwarf, but at least this time, there was no accompanying jolt.

The priest's shield had fallen to the ground when his hand spasmed from the torrent of electricity flowing through his body. Not like it would do him any good in this vice grip anyhow! It did however free up a hand. Though his teeth were still clenched together tightly, Jorelon managed to pry open his jaw and steady his hands enough to successfully call for some healing magics.

If there was anything he'd learned in his time exploring the ruins, it was that you don't wait until the last minute to heal. The effects of casting the more powerful spells were far more unpredictable under the Mythal, and if you waited too long and someone was gravely injured you might actually kill them with the spell. He'd seen it happen.

Jorelon had seen many unexplainable things happen where the Mythal was involved and that was why, when he felt the wave of energy ripple through the air, and saw the naked half elf go soaring through the air, he didn't even blink. Okay, maybe he blinked a little. The...effect he might not have recognized, but there was no doubt in his mind what must have happened.

"Wild surge!" He shouted down to the warrior, who was clearly disoriented from the blast. "Pick up your sword and get back in the fiiiiiiiighhhhhhhh....aaaaaahhhh!!!"

The remainder of his breath was driven from his body as the mechanical scorpion's claw undid all the healing he'd just managed.

Ashara had seen a vision of her husband flying through the air, and was more than shocked at the state she saw him in when she looked back to see where he'd landed. For a moment she wondered if he'd taken Jorelon's earlier tale of elvish fashion a little too seriously and didn't feel that these constructs were a threat at all!

Wild surge, her brother in the faith had determined. The ring? The boots? There were a few items Elric possessed that used command words. This kind of spell affect though, she hadn't ever expected. A fireball or worse, maybe, but she knew of no spell that would render a person stark naked and undamaged! She realized then just how lucky they'd been with their casting in Myth Drannor so far... Unfortunately, in her current position, there was little aid she could offer him, but she was trying her hardest to change that!

Her hammering at the claw had garnered the attention of the tail which, held as she was, she couldn't avoid. The barbed tip drove deep into her shoulder. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Ashara continued bludgeoning the pincers joint with Dawnspeaker. It creaked and groaned from the damage but the crushing grip lessened not at all. Instead, the scaladar tried to hasten her demise and slammed the troublesome priestess into the cobblestone.

Beneath the plate and chain and padded armor, Ashara felt a few ribs fracture. Now it was her turn to cry out in agony.

The anguishing wails of priests filling both ears, Kaldric started right into his next spell---one far less expensive than the first he'd unleashed in this fight. The force barrier he erected had been necessary, he believed, as three of these powerful constructs were just too many for them to cope with at once.

Two would be far more doable.

His hands swept through effortless gestures before him, and his lips articulated long, crisp words of power with practiced ease. As the final phonetics smoothly slipped from his tongue, the mage thrust an open-palmed hand directly at the metallic face of the construct holding the two Lathanderians hostage. A translucent blast of pure force rippled the air like a wave of heat exploding in a five foot diameter circle from the Veil Initiate. The pulverizing lance crushed in the thing's ugly visage and propelled it into a backwards slide for an easy ten feet before coming to a stop. Had the bluish visor that held its pale, glowing eyes not been completely blown apart by the devastating impact, the absence of light therein would have indicated to the three its final defeat.

They would just have to accept its broken, motionless body and drooped tail as an indicator instead. Well, that and the fact both priests had been flopped to the ground unceremoniously when those giant pincers crashed heavily down. That may have been the first clue . . .

Make that one.

Every breath was agony but Durlan used that pain to fuel his rage and drive his axe into the offending scaladar. With the mage having dealt with the other one, he knew he'd be getting some help soon and he wanted to make sure that this metal monstrosity had a good number of dents in it from his weapon before it fell! He owed it that much!

"C'mon then ye tin can!" He fumed through the massive ball of frizzy hair where his beard used to be.

Rushing in close, hopefully too close for those crushing claws to grab him again, the dwarf hacked at the construct's head. Though the mithril axe struck home solidly, to Durlan's dismay the metal seemed to be taking the abuse in stride. That didn't stop him from swinging!

To the south, the priest struggled to rise from the crumpled, inert shell of the scaladar.

Jorleon was able to wriggle away, his lungs burning with the sudden intake of air, while Ashara lay pinned underneath the bulk of the claw.

"No time for a nap yet, sister," he smirked as he hefted the metal arm up just enough for her to slide out. "One more to go!"

Taking his crossbow in hand, he trotted over to Kaldric's side, giving him a brief nod of gratitude before scanning the cityscape. When this fight was over, the companions would need to move on quickly. Someone or something was bound to come looking to see what all this ruckus was about!

Stunned, the priests words barely made it through the haze. Surge?? His sword? Get back in the fight!! Looking to the ground he saw his sword a few steps away, and could hear the monster directly behind him. With a deft scoop of his boot, his sword spun into the air and into his waiting grip.

He rolled backward as a claw snapped harmlessly above his head, and came up swinging. Each swing rang true and the city seemed to shake with the noise. He couldn't help but wonder what else was listening in, and whether he'd have time to get a pair of pants on before the next threat to their lives came in.

************

The Trolls smiled wickedly as they heard the sounds of battle like a dinner bell. Eagerly the two raced to the north hoping there would still be meat left when they go there.

They weren't the only ones taking notice of the intrepid band of adventurers however. The trolls stopped suddenly as the world seemed to spin on them. Looking up they gazed into the largest face they'd ever seen with teeth to match...

With a burst of violence the Trolls ceased to be.

As Ashara rushed into the fray to help end this fight as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but see the sliver of comedy in this current situation. Now that it appeared they were going to win this fight at least! She was definitely glad Kaldric had decided to come along... Things might have turned out very differently if he hadn't!

The grinning priestess stepped in beside afro dwarf and the naked half elf, with Dawnspeaker spinning in her hand.

"You know I'm going to have to do a drawing of this, Elric..."

CLANG She darted in and slammed the mace into the side of the scaladar's head. "It's one of those moments that needs to be remembered!"

CLANG Part of the head crumpled in with the second blow, and the left claw shuddered slightly before falling limp. "Think I'll hang it right nex...whoa!"

Ashara turned just in time for her shield to intercept and deflect the assault from the scorpion's tail. "Right next to the picture of Gwilly and Kaber sledding!"

CLANG Her third strike caved in the left side of the head. A strange grinding noise accompanied the wavering metal legs as the entire left half of the construct shivered to the ground. One claw still fought for something to grab hold of while the tail waved dangerously behind it, though even that leaned at a sickly angle.