Well Bless My Soul

“Well bless my soul it’s the lizard man.” Kol shared a smile with his brother and then they both looked over at Heljah who had her mouth open in disbelief at the little dwarf on his high chair. The journey home was quit different then the one to get to there destination. For one thing everyone was unusual quit even Han was not his usual exuberant self.

The young soldier that they had brought with them out of that cursed place was understandably quit having lost his older brother. Valasar kept close to him and Sorn was the one that brought him his food and drink. Kol and his brother had tried to get the young lad out of his shell by telling jokes and stories but to no avail. He did laugh at the appropriate places but then would draw back into himself like he was afraid to enjoy himself. Kol at first didn’t think the lad that young maybe a year or two younger then him and his brother but he must have still been going through puberty because his voice would change depth every so often.

Quinten said he was recovering and wanted to be left alone. He did sleep a lot but Kol thought it was all just an excuse. Heljah wouldn’t leave him alone no matter what he said and so a days journey from home Quinten was his old self again. It seemed the only one who stayed themselves through the whole ordeal was Heljah herself. Now they all stood outside the small gate listening to the old little dwarf chatter away.

Again the little dwarf got down from his high sit and started to talk about everything that came into his head.

“oh my word you all are just so banged up now arnt you. Look at that poor young boy cant even walk has to have the lizard man carry him. Oh look you have a dwarf with you I didn’t know you had a dwarf. What clan are you from you are a pretty little thing now that I look at you almost as pretty as my daughter although you have to be much older then she. You also have a Halfling his wearing strange cloths did you know that barbaric outfit. Oh look the twins I can tell you apart now with those different bandages….”

This went on for quit a while. Quinten kept trying to get a word in to no avail. Heljah was now looking at the dwarf in absolute horror and the young soldier had a dumfounded expression on his face. The worst was when Han got in back of the little fellow and started to make funny faces at the group. The young soldier couldn’t help it at this and started to laugh. The little dwarf tuned to face the young soldier.

“What is this. What’s so funny little soldier are you quit alright.” he inquired.

“NO he isn’t.” Quinten spook up quickly. “the lads quit sick and we need to get him his medicen so if you would please let us pass now.”

“Sick you say” the little dwarf took a couple of steps back from the young soldier and started eyeing him wearily. “Then you better go see to him. Off with you know stop crowding the gate. Off goodbye show.” with that he was gone retreating to his big chair. Kol was just glad Quinten took this opportunity to leave.

After a moment Han turned to Heljah and asked “So how did you like the dwarf?”

Heljah turned to look at the now disappearing gate and shook her head “that was no Dwarf.” At this no one could keep it in anymore and the whole company started to laugh. Even Heljah after a moment of indignation.

Taliesor's Gift

Valasar picked up the sobbing young person. Together they rushed for the stairs, large chunks of debris shattering from the ceiling, the floor buckling beneath their feet like the deck of a sinking ship.

Valasar heard strange, cryptic incantations behind him and turned, scales hackled. Their stood the Necromancer, glowing with unearthly light and looking nearly solid. He clapped his hands together, and light darkness whispered towards them, wrapping them in its tendrils. Valasar suddenly felt light, their was a rushing feeling of movement, and-

They were someplace else. It was a great, octagonal chamber. Woods with gold and green leaves glinting in the last rays of the sun shed soft light. Birds chirped and he could hear the hum of insects all around them. Golden strands of grass rose to Valasar's hip. He was there, with the wounded soldier, with Sorn and Quinten, the twins, Heljah, Sorn's creature... and three others.

Their in front of them stood the Taliesor, and his granddaughter, and the soldier who had stood with them against Ireselan. He was smiling.

Tomas rushed to Valasar, who gently let his burden sit to the floor. The deceased put his ghostly arms around the younger wounded soldier, and together they cried and spoke. Valasar padded silently away, to give them some privacy.

Taliesor stepped forward, addressing Quinten. "I'm sorry I put you all through this, but I thank you. On behalf of our entire village, I thank you." He gave a heavy sigh. "We'd been stuck there, like that, for much too long. When you and your companions traversed the Gray World and broke the scepter, you freed us from our curse."

Quinten, wincing, nodded his head. "Where is this place?" He asked curtly.

Taliesor smiled, "I may have originally been a necromancer, but portal-magic was always a hobby of mine. I thought, after everything, the least I could do is get you and your friends out of danger. We are at the base of the mountains, and a days' journey should get you to the nearest city. I'm sorry I could not put you closer." Taliesor pulled out a scroll. "My work will be destroyed along with the rest of the town, but... if you would take this to an old friend of mine?"

Quinten took the scroll with a shrug.

Taliesor nodded. "I'm sorry I have nothing of more value, after all the trouble I've caused, to give you."

The little girl tugged on Valasar's tail, and he turned to her, kneeling down. "I enjoyed your warmth, little one." He said formally. "Go in peace to your ancestors."

She giggled, and put her small arms around his neck. Valasar was surprised to feel quite warm, solid arms, before she ran back to her grandfather.

Taliesor called to the dead young soldier, "It is time for us to go." Nodding, he gave one last fierce hug to his sibling and stepped away. Slowly, light enveloped the three spirits, until they were too bright to look at. Valasar shielded his eyes, and when he looked again, they were gone.

"May mother bring you home"

Quinten slowly opened his eyes. He could here noises but not quit understand what was being said At first he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. He shut his eyes and opened them again thinking that he was having a nightmare. No the nightmare was still there when he opened his eyes.

Sorn was slowly raising the scepter above his head. He herd Heljah scream something but he couldn’t understand what it was. Kol and Han moved closer to Sorn as if to take away the scepter.

CRACK!!!

The scepter broke, shattered. Fragments of wood and mettle fell to the floor around them.

"No!" he could here Ireselan screech.

He barley comprehended that the skeletons were gone. Ireselans men-at-arms rushed at Sorn, Heljah, Valasar, the twins, before they could draw near the ground gave a mighty shiver. Cracks appeared in the floor, and everyone stopped to steady themselves.

Quinten closed his eyes he could hear things crashing all around him but that didn’t concern him at the moment. He could feel... he didn’t know what else to call it but his life force. He had felt it go out of him when he had used his blood on the door. When Sorn had broken the staff he felt it start to come back into him slowly at first and now in a flood of energy. He heard someone cry out and opened his eyes in time to see a piece of stone falling on his head. Valasar caught it and used his momentum to sling the stone into Ireselans men-at-arms.

"We have to get out of here!" he heard Kol yell over the noise. Wait for it, wait for it.

"I'd rather stay a while, this is kind of fun!" yep that was Han for you.

Quinten tried to sit up but even though his energy was coming back he was still very weak. He turned his head to see his soundings. The tower kept giving huge shakes and new crakes kept appearing all over the stone walls. Ireselan was trying to get his men-at-arms to attack his comrades. Some of them where listening to him while most of the men-at-arms were heading to the door making a bottle neck. He looked next to him at the only man-at-arms that was not attacking them. He was staring at the prone figure of a man-at-arms that Sorn was turning over. The only expression that the young man-at-arms could be said to be wearing was deep and complete shock.

“Nnooooo!!” the scream was high and scrile ripped from the young men-at-arms throat. He pulled himself over to the fallen warrior dragging his useless leg behind him. The fallen man-at-arms had a deep wound in his chest and Quinten saw a bloody dagger next to the body. The young soldier pulled himself up and grabbed the dead mans cloths and started to sob.

Quinten saw Valasar turn to look at were the sound was coming from. At that moment a very unfortunate man at arms decided to attack the opening. He rushed in and probably would have been successful if he didn’t decided to go by the chair and young bones. The only warning that Valasar had was the crash of bone as the young girls remains were destroyed. Valasar turned to see where the new noise had come from and saw the man at arms standing in the ruined remains of the young girl. It seemed to Quinten that time slowed down for an instant. The long thin scales on the back of Valasar’s neck began to rise up. They came up just like when he was uncertain and embarrassed but their was something deferent this time. This time when they came to stand straight up they started to hit against each other making an eerie rattling sound.

Time slammed back into place as Valasar let out a bloodcurdling scream. He rushed at Ireselan and his remaining soldiers scattering them in every direction. Valasar than picked up one of the tables and threw it pinning one of the soldiers between it and the wall. This was the last straw and Ireselan’s remaining men at arms rushed the exit fighting each other and ireselan to be the first ones through. Quinten was sure that Valasar was about to follow when a mighty tremor ran threw the building and knocked him off his feet. Valasar looked up in a daze and slowly his crest came back down.

Suddenly the only thing that Quinten could see was Heljah’s concerned face. Their was a moment of confusion in her eyes and then Quinten bunched up as Heljah thrust her finger into his side.

“What do you think your doing taking a nap while everyone is working.” she hissed in his face.

“Theirs...” Quinten had to take a moment to swallow. “There is no time for that help me up we need to get out of here.”

Heljah turned to the twins who were busy looking over Sorn and the wounded and dead soldier. Kol was busy bandaging up Sorn hands while Han was keeping guard over everyone. The young guard was still crying into the older ones bloody shirt. Heljah put a hand under Quintens arm and started to host him up.

“We need to go can everyone move over there.” Heljah asked the twins group.

“We can all move.” Sorn answered through gritted teeth. “Except for ...” Sorn looked at the bloody body and quickly looked away. The tower gave another great shudder sending everyone spraling.

“Valasar come get this soldier out of hear.” Sorn yelled. “Han Kol help Quinten. Heljah take point.” As everyone ran into position Sorn knelt down next to the crying and dead soldier. “We are going to have to leave him... I’m sorry we need to go now.” Sorn than addressed the dead soldier. “Don’t worry Thomas all take care of your brother. May mother bring you home.”

Valasar bent down and picked up the young soldier who gave one last sobbing cry. Han and Kol helped Quinten up draping his arms around there shoulders.

“Man Quinten this is the second time today you bummed a ride of us. Its my turn next time.” Kol said as the beat up group headed to the door.

Scepter.

Break the Scepter. Sorn felt the voice in his mind, pressing on him from the skeletons around him.

Break it.

Sorn tightened his grip. He recognized the feel of other voices in his mind- from wizards trying to peek and pry during the war, from psionic Kalashtar, from his own soarial mount and the elders of his village. No, he thought back. I need you here.

Sorn shifted his stance, standing his full three feet ten inches, squared up. With Quinten out of commission he was the ranking officer, never mind what this Aurum scum said.

"Everyone in formation." The twins hurried to flank him. After some hesitation, Heljah and Valasar did the same. So, to his surprise, did Tomas. "What are you up to, scum?" He demanded harshly. His own voice sounded ridiculously high in his ears, a product of a smaller, childsize throat, but in his battlegear, and flanked by warriors (incidentally forming a crescent formation to protect the two fallen behind them), and most especially, with the scepter, he felt he cut a somewhat impressive figure. He felt Tera settle on the roof of the building, and a moment later she let out a hoarse shreek that startled Ireselans' already jumpy men.

Break the scepter.

Ireselan didn't seem impressed, or even worried. Instead of answering, he smiled mockingly. "You think I'm trying to play a trick on you? If that insipid fool hadn't swooned, you would be asking him this instead of me. How do you think we knew to come here? Why do you think my men were already waiting? Theatrics aside, your men must have noticed how easily we worked together, back their. We've been partners before." He grinned viciously. "Ask the dwarf, she knows. Quinten has been working for us all along."

Heljah snarled a retort, but Sorn cut her off. "We already know about their past, Ireselan, and about you." Heljah gave a start. Sorn nodded back at the twins, telling her, "Han and Kol noticed something back in the city, Cassandra knew the whole time. We didn't want to pester you about it until you wanted to talk."

"Guilty as charged," Han smiled cheekily. Kol only raised his dirks into a better position.

"I didn't think you knew" Heljah whispered, subdued.

"Silverhand likes to know who works with her before she hires anyone."

"Irregardless" Ireselan said, his smirk only a fraction smaller. "You don't know the whole story. The great General Silverhand his being courted by the Aurum. We know about your monetary problems, and we are quite prepared to do business. This was a test, to see how well you would work with future employers." He stood up. His men seemed to take heart in what he was saying. They shifted to attention and readied themselves.

The man had Sorns' hackles up. "You must think little of Silverhand, if you do not think she would trust me with something like that." He bared his teeth in response, "or did your reports not mention me as one of her Captains? Sorn Leodychus?" Sorn shook his head in mock disgust. "History never pays attention to halflings. Now." He hardened his voice. "Enough chitchat. I'm going to tell you what will happen. You, and your men, are going to leave. Any of them want to join us, can. I've been talking to Tomas here," Sorn indicated with a nod, "and while you seem to hire the cheepest you can find, it appears most of your people didn't know what they were getting into."

Sorn waived the scepter at them. "You're going to leave, and I'm going to send a few of my bony friends to follow you. We're leaving afterwards, at a different time, from a different place. Try anything, and I'll make you regret it."

Break the scepter.

Iresilan shrugged. "I'd hoped we could do business, but-" he waived his hand, "Any of you boys want to turn traitor? Tomas, you think you're on the right side?"

"I never liked working with you, Ireselan." Tomas said defiantly. "I'll bet anything you would have left my- my brother back in that place if you could have."

"I thought you felt that way. At least the end of your stupidity will serve some purpose." Ireselan's hand whipped out, to quick to follow. Sorn moved to block, but the dagger flew, scarlet spouted from Tomas's chest. He looked down, mutely wondering, and sank to his knees. His faced drained white, red droplets spurting from his body.

"You didn't think I would come without insurance, did you?" Ireselan raised his fist, and a black-jeweled ring pulled the blood from Tomas, like scarlet rain flying sideways. A dark cloud circled him, and suddenly Sorn felt the scepter being pulled from him.

Break the scepter.

Sorn fought back stubornly. It was strange, a silent, motionless fight- Ireselan motionless in a cloud of gore, Sorn across the room, each surrounded by helpless warriors, seperated by a line of deathless warriors.

Release us. Break the Scepter.

Sweat beaded on Sorn's forehead. His body felt week. He fell to one knee, clutching the scepter to his chest. He knew if he let go, even for an instant, the scepter would fly back to Ireselan's ringed fingers, and the skeleton hoard would be his to command once more.

They can't be free until you break the sorcery. This voice was different than the others. It rang out, clear and sharp. Sorn dimly sensed the old, dead necromancer on the edges of vision. You have to let them go.

If I let them go, Ireselan and his men will kill us all, Sorn replied silently.

Perhaps. But if he wins, he gains the secret that caused the downfall of Cyre. Him, and those he works for, ruthless men who won't hesitate to kill everyone, everything you love, in the pursuit of power.

Break the scepter.

Sorn's grip almost slipped, and Ireselan sneered in triumph.

I'll help you, a little girl's voice whispered. Sorn felt other hands helping him.

Break the scepter.

Sorn slowly raised the scepter above his head. "Sorn, know!" Heljah cried. Kol and Han tried to restrain him. Ireselan grinned in triumph-triumph that turned to horror, when he realised-

CRACK!!!

The scepter broke, shattered. Fragments of wood and mettle lodged in Sorns' hands.

"No!" Ireselan screeched.

The skeletons were gone. The warriors, mobilized by their masters' cry of rage, rushed to Sorn, Heljah, Valasar, the twins, but before they took more than four steps the ground shook. Cracks appeared in the floor, and they stopped to steady themselves.

Chunks of ceiling started falling, crashing around them. One of Ireselan's cronies got hit in the shoulder and went down with a cry. Behind them, another piece of stone almost crushed Quinten's head, but Valasar caught it, whirling to throw it at their attackers.

"We have to get out of here!" Kol yelled over the sounds of destruction.

"I'd rather stay a while, this is kind of fun!" Han yelled back.

It Was all Part of the Plan

The coin never had a chance to fall

“Man I love it when I come back and find money falling from the sky.” Han stepped through the still glowing gateway made by the solider singing. In one hand held high he clasped the coin with the other he supported the still week Quinten. They both came through the gateway followed by Kol supporting Quinten on the other side and staring back the way they had come holding a throwing knife in his free hand.

No sooner than they had crossed the threshold than Ireselan came followed by the rest of his men at arms. They immediately went to the corner were the rest of his the men at arms were huddled. Their undead guards still very intent on their duties let them through without seeming to notice. When they reached the center of the group of men at arms they collapsed and the other men at arms surrounded them from view. Heljah came through the gateway with a face of murder looking the way that Iresalen went followed closely by Valasar caring the wounded soldier.

Sorn rushed over to Kols group to see if there was anything he could do. They were all pale and white washed. Their skin looked lifeless and Sorn was afraid that he was just seeing more animated ghosts. He noticed they were all covered in blood. Kol and Han looked like they still had steady legs but it looked like it was taking all of Quintens willpower to stay awake. For some reason the skeletons were still standing to attention waiting. Not thinking about it too much Sorn commanded one to go off and find a medical kit. Sorn than directed Kol and Han to the opposite corner of the room followed closely by an ashen looking Heljah and a very gray looking Valasar still carrying the wounded man at arms. The rest of the skeletons moved in creating another wall of bone bodies between them and the men at arms.

“Get out of my way that’s my brother.” Tomas said trying to push past the skeleton guards. They paid him no mind, just stood there waiting for Sorns command. Tomas was the only man at arms not with Ireselans group in the corner. “Let me through.”

“Let him pass.” Sorn told the white guards. Kol and Han had sat Quinten down leaning him up against the wall then sat down on either side of him. There was now a slight tinge of health in there cheeks that Sorn had not noticed before. Heljah went down onto one knee and took large grateful gulps of air. Valasar sat the Man at arms that he was carrying against the wall and started to look at his leg. By that time a skeleton came forward with a heavy medicine box. Sorn dived into it grabbing bandages and cleaning supplies and set about helping his friends with their wounds. Tomas came through the undead guards and knelt beside the wounded man at arms.

“What happened to my brother? Is he ok?” Tomas asked. Valasar looked down at him with a confused expression.

“Is this a kind of human joke?” He looked over at Heljah. “I do not understand.”

Tomas looked at Valasar as if seeing him for the first time. A look of pure terror was on his face. Sorn was not surprised by that most people looked at Valasar like that. This was about the most Sorn paid attention to their conversation. He unrolled the bandages and started to bandage up Quintens arm where he had just wiped away the blood. None of the wounds looked very serious or deep but there were dozens of them. Han and Kol looked shaken and gray faced but Quinten looked ready to pass out. Quintens eyes kept fluttering open and closed and he looked like he was only half aware of what was going on.

Sorn noticed Valasar insert his claw into the hole of the soldiers pant leg. He quickly made a perpendicular cut around the thigh so that the excess pant leg bunched up around the soldiers boot. That’s when the soldier’s older brother took over for Valasar almost pushing him out of the way to get to his fallen brother. Valasar didn’t seem to mind he just went into a crouch and looked at the young soldier as if at a puzzle. Heljah the least hurt of the whole party, manly due to her heavy armor, started to bandage up the gash running down Valasars side.

“whats wrong with Quinten what happened to you on the other side of that gateway?” Sorn asked as he took care of them.

Han and Kol shot nervous glances at Quinten and then over at the group of Ireselans men. Loud cursing and heated talk came from that side of the room. Then they begin to tell their story and it was all Sorn could do not to listen with an open mouth. They asked about what had happened here and as Sorn began to explain he noticed something very strange. The skeletons still stood to attention waiting another command. According to the lich they should all be gone released from their curse. Sorn became aware of his hand tightening on the bone scepter. Fully aware that he did not want to see them go and be left in a room with hostile men at arms and more than half of his friends out of commission.

Kol leaned his head back against the wall taking large breaths before he talked. “What are we going to do now?” he asked no one in particular. “And how did we even end up here.”

There was movement on the other side of the room that drew everyone’s eyes. Ireselan was getting to his feet starring in their direction. A cold smile played across his face as he saw there predicament. “If you want to know how everyone ended up here why don’t you ask your fearless leader? It was Quinten who came up with this whole idea to begin with.”

Kol Han Soren Heljah and Valasar looked over at Quinten whose only answer to this accusation was to pass out.

Tombs and Tomes

"Get my Rod!" Sorn heard the necromancer shout. Just then a lucky swipe from one of the men at arms caught him a glancing blow and sent the little halfling sailing over the heads of living and undead alike. He hit the wall and slid to the floor.

Sorn shook his head to clear it and stood up. A skeleton stood before him, the rictus grin wheezing breaths of foul air as it swung a rusty sword in a great overhand motion. Sorn rolled to avoid the strike and vaulted up the ribs of the monster, kicking the neck vertebrae with all his might. The skull flew off the shoulders and went clattering off into a corner.

"None of you will possess my secrets-"

Sorn turned, still standing on the headless skeletons shoulders. Their was a burst of midnight purple fire and a flash of black light.

Suddenly the fighters from the center of the room were gone. Valesar, Han, Kol, Heljah, Quinten, even the vagrant men of that scoundrel who had swaggered in moments before and caused all this trouble.

"No!" Sorn bellowed in rage and launched his little halfling body across the intervening space, grabbing the Rod from the surprised necromancer. He bashed the undead wizard over the head with Rod, and then gripped him by the high collar of his cloak and hauled him close, barely registering surprise that, with the Rod in his hand, he was able to touch the ghost. "What did you do to them?" He demanded hoarsely.

Taliesor was laughing hysterically. "They'll never get out now, never! No one does."

Sorn shook him, "Where did they go," he demanded. Outside the tower, circling Tera screamed her rage in response.

The tower was silent. The skeletons had stopped fighting as the ownership of the Rod once again changed hands, and the scum following Ireselan, those still alive, now grouped together to one side of the room, on guard but uncertain on what to do.

"I sent them to the shadowlands." Suddenly the undead wizard was in control of himself again. He stood up and tried to grab the Rod from Sorn's hand, but the halfling swiped him away and the necromancer turned the motion into brushing his robes. "If they survive and manage to reach the gateway back into the real world before sundown tomorrow, then our curse is broken." The wizard gestured to himself and the other undead. "But no one ever escapes, and so my secrets are safe."

"Bring them back!" Sorn bashed the rod against Taliesor, and the wizard stumbled back from the fury of his onslaught.

"I can't," Taliesor growled. "Even if I wanted to. It is up to them now."

Sorn turned to the other skeletons. "Bring me the works of Taliesor the wizard." He demanded, icy fury dripping from every inch of the small man.

"No!" Taliesor tried to snatch the Rod back again, but Sorn held him back.

"If you won't help me, than perhaps something in your notes can." Sorn snarled.

He gestured at the leftover men of Ireselan. "Make sure they don't interfere." Suddenly the little group was ringed by a skeleton army, swords drawn. The men made no move except to put their swords away and their hands up.

One of them shouldered forward, only to be pushed back by the other men and the angry gesturing of a skeletal warrior. "Let me help." He said angrily.

Sorn glanced back. "Who are you?"

"Tomas Redorc. You're not the only one's got people missing. My brother's in their too. Let me help!"

Sorn nodded wearily, "Fine." Perhaps they all weren't complete scum after all.

The other men tried to rest as best they could, but they started uneasily at any movement of the skeletal warriors around them. For their part, the undead were near-motionless, only twitching their skulls around to watch the living soldiers, or perhaps adjust their position slightly.

The undead wizard had disappeared, Dol Dorn knew where. Sorn settled down, legs crossed among the papers and scrolls the skeletons brought before him, glancing alertly to the soldier Tomas once or twice. The soldier seemed to know what he was doing, and as long as none of the scrolls disappeared beneath his leather jerkin, Sorn was content to let him work, but his grip on the Rod of Command never ceased.

They organized the papers into two stacks, looking through them frantically. The long night through they found nothing, and when dawn came they were still searching. Finally, Tomas ran across something.

"Look at this," he said. "It's from Tome of Dwarven Legends."

The volume told of how, long ago, dark warriors from a shadowy world had raided dwarven strongholds for slaves, passing through doors of night written by blood. The dwarven slaves worked for their masters, Shadar Kai, for long years before discovering the secrets to escape.

"It says here that they could pass from place to place in the shadows of the Ash trees, the only trees growing their. That darkness was light for them, and blood opened doorways."

"Like Heljah's poem." Sorn nodded.

The bandit cocked his head questioningly, then went on after Sorn didn't say anything more. "It also says that they couldn't use regular magical healing or rest while they were their. The Shadar Kai masters made them drink some sort of liquid, called Menelith, that gave them strength and healed their wounds, but without being able to sleep many of them slowly went mad. Finally they discovered a secret doorway between worlds, the way the raiders had used to penetrate the dwarven strongholds, but it was too late. Because they had been living off Menelith, they could not pass through the gates themselves."

Sorn looked peered over the arm of the human soldier. "So how did they escape?"

"It says that they prayed for their gods to protect and save them. Finally, a warrior of light comes, and "bestoed on us the sunging and rhymes of teim." something like that. Anyway, they got this song, and they started to sing it, and opened the gateway for them. The bandit peered at the notes. "It says in the margin, 'see volume five page nineteen in 'Songs of Power'".

They cast about, looking for it. Finally, in frustration, Sorn turned to one of the skeletons. "Bring me a copy of the book "Songs of Power", and be quick about it."

The skeleton turned and ran out of the tower. They continued searching for more clues, but couldn't find anything until the undead creature marched back, about an hour later, carrying a leatherbound tome containing a ream of unorganized loose parchments.

They pawed through the pages, finally finding the one they were looking for. "I can't read music." Sorn said in frustration.

"Neither can I." Tomas stared blankley at the notes on the page, arranged in bars and little dots and lines that made his eyes hurt.

"Can any of you read music?" Sorn demanded of the other soldiers. By now several others had joined them in the search, although Sorn had given careful commands to the skeletons to kill anyone who tried to take the Rod from him.

"Any of you?" They shook their heads, except for one, slightly in the back. He looked sheepishly at the others, then raised his hand.

"Afore I became a soldier, me mum had me take lessons with the priests. I can read the notes." He took the parchment from them and cleared his throat nervously. The music had no words to it, a simple tune only.

The soldier began to sing, wordlessly, and the skeletons began to sway with the melody. The other warriors looked around nervously, and started back from the center of the room. Papers rustled and swirled in a little vortex, and cold purple light, like a miniature star, began to glow in the center of the room. Abruptly there was a flash of dark light again, and a portal stood in the middle of the room. Traceries of purple fire outlined strange runes, lines of power flowing to the door. On the other side of the glowing doorway they could see a mirror of the room they were in, but colder and gray, sapped of color.

"One of us should go through." Tomas said. "Find them, and tell them what we've found out. Give me the Rod, and you can go through." Tomas demanded suddenly.

"I'm not trusting you with this." Sorn snarled. He edged back from the warriors, who had shifted suddenly to circle the halfling. The skeletons encircled them, a ring of cold steel and skull-grinning faces, and the soldiers stopped.

"And how am I supposed to trust you?" Tomas grumbled back. "The Rod won't do any good once the they get out, the necromancer said so himself. One of us has to go through."

All of them looked at the portal. It hummed a strange noise that penetrated to their bones, purple light crackling around the edges.

"Me, or you." Sorn said, pointing at Tomas. "Not the others. We'll flip a coin." Tomas nodded once.

Sorn dug a coin out of his pocket. "Call it in the air," he said, and then flipped the coin.

Blood the Key

With their backs to the tower they were able to hold off the undead horde better than they had. It did not last long tired and weary men some with wounds don’t fight well for long. Soon they were all pressed up against the tower the skeletons unrelenting as more waves still came. One of Ireselan’s men got a rusty sword in the throat and Ireselan pushed the dying man into the horde of undead.

“We will not last much longer if this continues half-elf, even with your monster.” Ireselan snarled as he bashed in the head of a skeleton.

Using both his rapier and the club Heljah had made for him; Quinten blocked a thrust and broke the withered arm before the skeleton in front of him could recover and pull it back. Quinten thought furiously before answering. “We need to get inside the tower. We can block the door or thin them out if we need to once we are inside.” he looked up and down the row of warriors pressed against the cold stone of the tower. “Move to the right until we find the tower entrance. After we find it Valasar and Heljah take up flanking positions the rest of you guard their backs.”

They all started inching their way towards the right Valasar at the end of the line once more covered their backs and Heljah was again at the front and forcing a way through the press of undead bodies. The going was slow, having to deal with fighting at the same time as they tried to make it around the building. Quinten looked at in back and in front everyone had the same expression that of desperate men on the brink holding on by a thread.

“Quinten we found the entrance.” Heljah yelled back.

The entrance for the tower looked just as it did in the real world. Minus the dead body of the dwarf. It was a little alcove in the tall tower of dark stone. Heljah and Valasar took up positions on both sides of the entrance and Quinten was impressed to see one of the men-at-arms take a position in-between them. Everyone else crowded into the alcove and looked despairingly at the door. It was the same door that was in the real world absent the key that Quinten had first used.

“Great half-elf we are now as good as dead now.” Ireselan said staring at the door hopelessness sharp on his voice.

“Shut it Ireselan, and you and your men help me try to force it open.” Quinten was painfully aware that Valasar and Heljah were buying them what precious time they had. After trying the point of Quintens rapier and a feeble attempt to kick the door in they all ran into the door with their shoulder. All that that was able to accomplish was six men with sore shoulders.

“Anymore bright ideas?” Ireselan sneered.

Quinten looked at the door helplessly. What was he supposed to do? He looked back and saw that they fight was more desperate now. Valasar was most likely exhausted and Heljah was right there with him. He looked back at the door and had one more idea. He ripped open his shirt and put a finger in the still bleeding cut on his arm. With his finger glistening with wet blood he started to trace the dwarven symbols he remembered seeing in the real world. As soon as he touched the door with his wet finger he felt something go out of him, energy that he didn’t think he had. He continued to write out what he remembered seeing and more energy left him as he did. But as he continued to write what looked like a ghost of a key started to appear. Slowly but becoming more real the more he wrote it was the same key that he had used in the real world. As soon as he put the last symbol he remembered on the door his legs quaking with the effort of holding him up finally gave out and he fell in a heap on the ground.

“Nice work half-elf.” Ireselan bent down as if to help Quinten to his feet. But before he could get close to him Han and Kol were their helping him up swinging his arms over their necks to support him. Kol gave Ireselan such a look that it made the elf back away almost unconsciously. He recovered himself quickly and turned his retreat into going over to the door turning the key and pushing it open. “Move quickly before we are all killed by the dead.”

It was not a moment too soon. The man-at-arms that had stood with Valasar and Heljah went down with a spear in his leg. With a scream he went down clutching his leg. With lightning fast movement Valasar turned using his tail to disintegrate the first row of undead. He bent and picked up the solider and tossed him over his shoulder and made a dash for the open door Heljah coving his retreat. Everyone moved aside has the great lizard rushed passed them into the hallway. Heljah grabbed the key before she came barreling after him. After booth were inside the other three men-at-arms hurriedly closed the door. As the door closed one of the skeletons tried to follow and got smashed to smithereens for its trouble.

Two ever- glow lanterns light up this end of the hallway bathing everyone in a harsh light. Everyone had found a place along the door and walls panting. It seemed that the curse of not healing still held no matter how hard they breathed it didn’t seem to help. Quentin barley felt alive as if he hung to life by a thread. Heljah armor was battered and she had blood running down one side of her face making a fan. Valasar had new wounds and was still losing blood along the one up his side. He had sat the man-at-arms down next to him and removed the spear from his thigh. He sat there and made bandages from the man’s shirt. The man winced each time Valasar touched him even though Valasar was being very careful.

“We…need to….keep moving.” Quinten managed to get out he hardly had any energy to speak at all. “haveto….get to…portal…before it…closes.” Han and Kol looked at him with worried eyes before nodding and getting to their feet. Ireselan looked at Quinten with a sneer and something else maybe a small gloat before he too got to his feet. Han and Kol again slung Quinten between them; Quinten tried to walk but only managed a shuffle.

“Quinten do you think this hall is like the other one?” Kol asked keeping his eye on Ireselan. Quinten managed a nod and before anyone could say anything Heljah had smashed the two ever-glow lanterns.

“What in the seven hells are you doing.” Ireselan yelled in the dark.

“There is a trick to the hall wait a moment and you blind men will see.” Han said roughly. The hallway stated to glow again with the black patches for the booby-traps. “See told you.”