Flald 13-15, 653 DR: A stranger helps Tressta and Ezíkus escape. A day in hiding. The dungeon keeper’s eye. King Kaylyar’s closing comments. Dammon walks into Kzar Boron. The second embrace. The destruction of the central tower. Jak and Saldus battle a Dragul, sort of. The box regained! Exeunt.

Continued from Guests of Kzar Boron.

Virídor, 13 Flald 653

Lifting the short sword from the table, a dark-skinned figure stabbed the dozing guard and turned toward the other. The second guard scrambled for his mace yelling “Intruder!” With another cut, the first guard staggered and dropped to the floor. The other grew quiet, dropping his mace and cowering against a cell door. The woman kicked the mace aside, asking “Who is in that cell?” The guard shrugged, “An old man. I don’t know his name.” Tressta answered through the door window, “His name is Ezíkus!” Tressta looked at the woman and noticed she was darker than most of the people she’d seen here, probably Sharan or perhaps even Tassèri. The woman ordered the guard to unlock the old man’s door. When the guard lamely answered that he had no keys, the woman killed him with a sword stroke. After trying every key on the ring, the woman let out Tressta and Ezíkus. After introducing herself as Zildara, the two women stripped the guards and appropriated their armor. Adjusting the leather as best they could, they then assisted Ezíkus down strange corridors that Zildara had found since escaping the gibbet.

The two moved as quickly as they could with Ezíkus between them. All were weak from hunger, but the priest had other injuries to cope with. Zildara led them through the dungeons without error. Up the stairs to the ground floor, they found themselves in a large chamber that opened into an inhabited area of the castle. Turning south, they hurried along a wide gallery with shields hanging along the interior wall. The opposite wall was lined with heavy paned windows looking out through the trees that covered the castle mount. A few more turns and they came to a door that opened into a richly furnished room. Chairs and couches sat along walls covered in framed paintings and statuary. Tressta closed the door. Back to the main corridor, they passed through another tower and entered a passage whose windows looked down over the sea. The castle’s back stood against a high cliff that dropped precipitously to the shore below. They had no intention of making their escape through the heavy windows, but it was good to know where they were in the labyrinthine castle. Moving toward a nearby door, they heard voices on the other side. Ezíkus begged his female rescuers to stop a while, and so the three settled and gained their breath. Once rested, Tressta opened the servant’s door. Finding no one in sight, the three moved west through the servants hall into another abandoned area where they climbed to the second floor. Tressta explained that she knew this level well, and led the others down the long gallery that Soryx had shown her the night before. Reaching the northwest tower, they set Ezíkus against a balustrade and slowly descended into welcoming halls below. Moving silently through the ground floor halls, they reached the foyer without encounter. Zildara helped Ezíkus along, glancing down side hallways as they moved. Tressta peered into the foyer and saw the porter sleeping on a bench while a guard tried leaned against the far wall. Slipping through the archway, the Taládan rogue cut the porter’s throat and gently lowered his lifeless body to the floor. The guard startled to attention and while fumbling for his weapon found Tressta’s sword buried in his neck. Zildara followed her into the foyer, stopping to appreciate the carnage her companion had so expertly executed. After finding the keys on the porter, they unlocked the front gate. Tressta tried peeking through the gate, but the outside guard spotted her and pulled the door fully open. As the guard drew his sword, Tressta gutted him. A second outside guard yelled and attacked. As Tressta and the soldier fought, they could hear footsteps racing through the castle. Zildara moved through the door, half-carrying the aged Ezíkus, and ran down the hillside into the woods. Tressta finished the guard and followed.

It was not easy to get down the overgrown hill with Ezíkus between them, but they managed. As they worked their way down the slope, lanterns were lit throughout the castle above. A dispatch of horsemen were sent galloping down the castle road. Climbing down the castle mount was tricky because the entire hillside was covered in overgrown walls, fountains, and statues. Finally, the three found an old statuary niche covered in brambles and old trees. Here they decided to wait for dark before climbing outer wall.

Within the guests chambers, Jak and Saldus were speaking with Ðr. Thir when two guards burst into the room and whispered something to the Ðard. Ðr. Thir tone was less collegial when next he spoke, giving Jak and Saldus suspicious glances as he stood. “There is trouble in the castle,” he explained shortly before exiting the room. As Jak moved toward the door to ask what was happening, he noticed that the guards assigned to the hall had trebled. After some conferring, Saldus returned to his room and both men began to pack their things.

As the evening wore on, Tressta and Zildara left their hiding place and scaled the wall that circled the castle grounds. Lowering a rope, they helped aging Ezíkus over the high wall. Soon the three were standing in a city alley wondering what to do next. Zildara wandered into a crowd of people and returned with a handful of coins. Using these, they found a low-rent inn and secured room and boarding.

Ðr. Thir returned to the rooms of Jak and Saldus to give the guests an update on the castle crisis. Thir explained that there were two problems. The first problem was with the prisoners, but he did not know anymore about Tressta and the old man. The King had guards searching the city for them and another escapee. The second problem was the Dragul Box. The ward guardian upon the small chest had killed many of those sent to open it. Ðr. Aryn had agreed to face the guardian at the King’s request. When asked how she did, the Ðard only responded that “She will live. Two of the guardians have been destroyed. But there are more.” Ðr. Thir explained that criminals were being brought in to try their hands at the thing and that the room was choked with the dead.

After Thir left for the evening, there was another knock on the room of Jak of Cænden. Opening the door, Jak found a Bor and a soldier waiting in the hall. The half-monster introduced himself as Arkamus the Keeper. It was hard to talk to the hideous man without staring at his bulbous right eye, that ballooned from the side of his face. He asked Jak many questions about Tressta but the spear-man would not answer his questions. The castle must be desperate to bring this low-life into the upper halls. Jak did not know where Tressta had escaped to and was not about to help the dungeon-keeper. With a deep sigh, the man turned and returned to his dank domain, planning to vent his frustrations on the remaining prisoners.

Palídor, 14 Flald 653

In the morning, a guard arrived at the room of Jak and found both he and Saldus waiting. Invited to follow, the two were led into the Royal Walk where King Kaylyar awaited them, surrounded by breakfast fare. The King looked very haggard. “Eight men,” he clicked his fingers. “These are magics I cannot defeat. You probably see me as a minor noble, caught between powerful thrones. To an extent, this is true.” Waving his hand at the decrepit castle about him, he continued “It has been centuries since my family ruled this land outside the shadow of the Golden Scepter, but we are not without our strengths, our resources, and our pride. It is greatly disturbing to me, as it should be to all people, that the High Lord of the Iron Coast wishes to talk with the High Lady of Taldàna. When last the Thrones of the Old Empire conspired, the world suffered a thousand years of war. No land was safe from their armies. No sea was free from their ships. People look back at that time fondly, but it was a dark age. Let there be no mistake. It was an Age founded in great sacrifice, a price that no men had the right to pay. There are ancient forces alive within the land and seas, forces that view the world as a grand game. But we are the not the players, we are the pieces, no matter what the wizards whisper into the ears of kings. I pray that you will come to understand this, before it is too late. The best that we Mortals may do, is to not play their games, to not feed their ancient hunger. I have tried to do my part but I refuse to continue feeding the chest’s thirst for blood. If you can take the Dragul Box, do so. Take it far from this land. I would ask that you drop it into the deepest sea, but you are under High Orders, and what greater purpose can there be for soldiers and Ðardram.” The King grabbed a sealed parchment from a nearby table. “At least give the High Lady this. Each doomed King must have his last words.” With that the King motioned them to leave and they were escorted back to their rooms. Back at their rooms, the two rested the remainder of the day.

Within the City of Boronon, Tressta and Zildara laid low for the day. Neither were in good shape, and Ezíkus was too weak to move. Elsewhere, Dammon roamed the streets, wondering how he could get into Kzar Boron. He also kept a wary eye for the witches which seemed intent on catching him. To throw off their trail, he stopped at a Barber and had his head shaved. At the day’s end he returned to his room and prepared for the next.

Alídor, 15 Flald 653

Shortly after dawn, Tressta entered the streets to gather supplies. Pawning a necklace she had been carrying, the Taládan visited a number of markets, buying clothes for herself and Zildara. At the boarding house, Zildara cast some Healing spells upon the old priest, and was able to revive him. Tressta returned briefly, shared what she had found, and went back into the streets to look for the others.

At the base of the castle mount, a bald visitor approached with a large bundle weighing heavily in his arms. A guard stepped forward and looked at the stranger. “Delivery?” asked the guard. Dammon nodded his head and grunted, hoping his illusion would make him look like an Ezmìryn. The guard waved him through without a second thought, returning to his booth to resume his nap. Up the long and winding road to the top of the mount, a number of people passed him coming to and from the castle. He had watched this same traffic yesterday, and knew that few were questioned. At the front gate, a guard pointed him toward the servants’ area, annoyed that he didn’t seem to know the way. Inside Kzar Boron, Dammon grew nervous. This was where the Gargoyles had come from and he still didn’t know what had triggered their last attack. Moving through the castle halls, it was obvious what areas were well-guarded, and which were not. Eventually, he found a corridor with a line of windows looking into an inner courtyard. The courtyard was dominated by a giant circular tower, surrounded by overgrown gardens and broken pathways. Finding a window that wasn’t sealed shut, he climbed down into weeds and made his way toward the tower wall.

Strangely, the tower had no doors or windows for the first several stories. Setting his bundle down, the magician Weaved an Annoch’s Rising and lifted himself high above the gardens. No alarms sounded. Reaching a high window, Dammon stepped into the ancient Dwürden tower. It was dark inside, but his magical sight revealed every crack and piece of forgotten debris hidden these last centuries by the unbroken shadows. A nearby doorway revealed a staircase leading up. Stepping through the small archway, a strange sensation overcame him and he knew that he’d come to the right place. After many turning steps, he emerged into a round room with an old wood chair. As he studied the room, ghostly shapes wavered into view, superimposing themselves over the emptiness. The room was soon filled with glowing tables, stacks of books, and an old sad-looking figure hunched in the chair. When the ghostly old figure looked up, Dammon saw something very familiar in the contours of his face. The voice too sounded like something he should remember. “You must not succumb,” the ghost warned him. “You are my only hope.” As the ghost lowered its head, Dammon heard a second voice that sounded like Eryvek, from days before. “Your achievements have been impressive,” the voice said. “Soon you will be ready.” Dammon searched the room but knew he would not find the speaker. “What is my task here?” he asked. “There is great power here,” the voice responded. “The power in this place allows me to reward you for your efforts. The power is strongest where the ghost sits.” Dammon moved across the ghostly chamber, and sat within the image of the old man. As he did this, the apparitions began shaking. The magician could feel energy surging through his body as the now familiar void once again flooded his senses. As his consciousness ebbed, he could hear the distant sound of the tower being torn apart, stone by stone.

As Jak and Saldus were making preparations to face the Dragul Box, they noticed stones and shingles falling outside their rooms. Running to the window they saw chunks of stone, mortar, and shingles crashing to the inner courtyard. Alerting the guards, they were told that no one goes into the interior. After showing the guards the disaster unfolding outside, the men escorted the two up to the ruined battlements. There they witnessed a dozen Gargoyles hanging perched upon the central tower, pulling heavy stones and roofing free with their powerful claws. The guards ran to alert the others as Jak and Saldus stood and watched. Somehow, they guessed that Dammon was part of this, but they couldn’t figure out how. Within minutes, the two were joined by Ðr. Thir. They watched the Gargoyles destroy the top level of the tower before they climbed inside, looked around, and grew still as statues once more. Whatever had incited them was gone now.

The spectacle over, Ðr. Thir escorted the two to the dungeons where they were equipped with spears and armor to face the chest’s ward guardian. As they arrived outside the room, the smell of death hung heavy in the air. As a guard opened the door, they saw an array of bodies strewn across the floor. In the room’s center was a bench atop which sat the small wood chest with silver medallions arranged along its exterior. Each medallion held a Dragul miniature, except for one which was empty. As their eyes ranged higher they saw a tiny silver Dragul roosting atop the chest. As they stepped into the room, the thing flexed its mechanical wings, regarding its visitors with sharp glowing eyes. Here then was the chest’s ward guardian. Every time someone tried to force the chest open, a Dragul was activated, a mechanical demon that would not be dismissed until it could be defeated. Around them lay eight bodies of peasants and rogues, all ripped to shreds by its minuscule razor claws. As the two stepped into the carnage-strewn cell, they readied their weapons, and the door was closed behind.

Minutes later, Jak and Saldus emerged from the prison cell. The waiting Ðard and guards looked at their bleeding wounds, and the cloth-bound box that Saldus held tightly. They had defeated the miniature mechanical Dragul and were ready to put Kzar Boron behind them forever. After depositing the shields, spears, and other equipment they’d borrowed for the task, they were escorted back to to the halls above, and finally through the gate of Kzar Boron.

Continued in Voyage of the Widower.

Characters

• Dammon Shroudson
• Jak of Cænden
• Tressta Drynsval
• Zildara of Zalan
• Arkamus of the Eye
• Ðr. Aryn Balsiryx
• Azylaryx Nurchulkyx (Witch)
• Batir Yrangan (Prison Guard): killed
• Eran Erganyx (Guard): killed
• Eryx Ganiyrx (Guard): killed
• Ezíkus of Roð
• Familiar
• Kalum Azyrren (Porter): killed
• Lord Protector Kaylyar Boron III of Ezmir
• Karus Irixyn (Prison Guard): killed
• Masda Irzarek (Servant)
• Saldus Greymane
• Saryd Orzanyk (Guard): killed
• Soryx Malgrat
• Terzyr Ryllaryn (Witch)
• Ðr. Thir Malzykra
• Torum Orzak
• Urynax Arygaz (Witch)
• Valus ur Saldus

Played: 18 May 2002