The Final Sunset (Part I)

Chapter 1

Episode I: The Vision.

As Acriliom gave the sermon in his deep, proud voice, Loreat shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The ancient stone temple was not designed for comfort and the sermons where overly long. The flame temple was warm, especially in contrast with the icy winter weather one walked through to get to it. Acriliom would soon retire for Micomth to rise as high priest of the Flame God, and he was trying to make his final days memorable. Unfortunately that meant long, epic sermons that took a great deal of time.
Micomth was an aspiring young priest, but was clumsy and accident-prone. As it happened, just then Micomth stumbled from the seeing pool chamber yammering wildly. He was shaken, and must have seen some dooms day prophecy or another. Priests frequently saw terrible visions of fire that was being used for the wrong purpose. Visions of people burning at the stake, in their homes, or other horrid things. Unfortunately, these visions usually came too late to stop whatever disaster they portrayed. Acriliom gave him a long hard look and then announced that everyone needed to go home, and pray for half an hour. Acriliom took Micomth into his chamber and closed the door hard enough to rattle the large wooden frames of the paintings lining the walls. Acriliom was a strict priest, and never had liked to be interrupted, but now that he was putting so much work into his sermons, he was especially enraged about being disturbed. Rumor had it, that just last tenday; he had changed a young man into a pile of ashes, for knocking at the temple doors during a sermon. But there was probably no truth behind the claim. Everyone, including Loreat rose and began shuffling toward the door. After exiting the temple, Loreat looked around, Watersdeep was bright in the morning sun and, to Loreat, there was nothing more beautiful. The sun's rays fell on the temple in a way that scattered rainbows across the cobblestones. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. And the chill nipped at Loreats nose, but the look of the city made him forget the cold, the fact he had no money left, and how much he missed his family. And feel good about the whole of things. As the crowds cleared, as far as they ever did anyway, he began to walk toward home. Home, he had not truly been home for many years and rather missed it. The place he was living now was a boarding house, not a home. No one would notice it if he vanished that very day, and never reappeared, save to try and collect on his tab. He had left home several years prior to the current one, but it still felt like yesterday. He thought of home and stroked the map in his pocket. The map was all he had left to remember his old home, it was a floor plan of his family’s house. He had walked no more than one hundred feet when Acriliom stepped out of the temple and beckoned him back. Acriliom led Loreat into his chamber where Micomth stood, white as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. Once the door was closed, Acriliom explained what Micomth had seen in the pool:

"Four men stood atop a hill, Silhouetted by the setting sun. As they stood, a man with long white hair shattered the sun into a thousand shining pieces, which rained upon the land like embers from a fire before darkness fell over all. Then, he could see the Lord of Flames standing in a doorway made of fire, the door swung closed and turned to stone. The Lord of Flames could be heard beating on the door from the other side, but could not get through it."

Loreat looked sideways to Micomth who had regained a bit of his color by then, then looking back at Acriliom he asked "What dose it mean?" "It means that the white-haired one will lock the fires from the material plane, and we'll all freeze! What’s more, I think he could be stopped, The party of four were certain heroes which did nothing to stop him, If we can locate them, and convince them to take action, perhaps the world can be saved from a glacial fate." Mused Acriliom. "Well, that is most alarming, but why have you told me of this?" Loreat inquired bewildered. "Because I think you are one of the heroes." Answered Micomth weakly, "The men on the hill where two warriors, a mage, and a holy man. One warrior was tall, the other very short." He continued, "I believe that the tall one was you." "You must set out at once!" Acriliom said. "You will also take with you Arthos, a paladin in the temples service." Less than an hour later, Micomth, Loreat, and Arthos set out from the church.

Episode II: The Market

The bright sun cast a glow over the market square as Loreat and the others came strolling down the lane. The market was filled with people of every kind. There were many merchants trying to sell every thing from the finest jewelry to cinnamon and other spices. People yammered on all sides and all you could think about was all the nice things for sale.
Almost immediately Micomth cried out, "There he is! The white-haired man from my vision!" Looking around, Arthos spotted him inspecting some candy and speaking to a fat shopkeeper near by. The shopkeeper was quite fat, but still had a strong, hearty look about him all the same. He wore a black cloak with a red blaze down the center. As anyone familiar with the town should have, Loreat recognized the man as Mirt, a very wealthy man of fair power. Arthos ran forward and tried to chop the white-haired man in two with his great sword, 'what a short mission this could be!' he thought to himself. The man, without looking back dodged to one side, and Arthos's blade nicked the helmet of a nearby dwarf instead. The dwarf turned, and swung his axe toward Arthos's throat, barely missing only because Arthos leaned back in the nick of time. Micomth continued yelling about the man. People began stopping and peering at Micomth, and the man. Realizing that Micomth was yelling about him, the white-haired man raised his hand into the air, and fired a ray of midnight over the crowd’s heads. The beam struck Micomth, and he changed into black dust, and blew away in the wind! Realizing what had happened; the dwarf swung his axe next at the white-haired man. The man caught it between his two fingers and said "No small town thug or babbling priest will bring an end to my life! I am Kemrin Holimion, and. I don’t have time for this!" The man turned suddenly and ran into a nearby alleyway. Loreat ran after him but found that the ally was empty except for a brick wall that extended up two stories. The man had disappeared.
Emerging from the ally, Loreat looked at the dwarf. "What’s your name?" Asked the dwarf in a deep, earthy voice. "My name is Loreat" He replied. "My name is Laguan Underhill, what’s your family name?" Inquired the dwarf. "I have no family name." He replied hastily. "Well, what have you bunch got against that Kemrin fellow, anyway?" "Well, first the priest had a vision that he would destroy the world, and then he killed the priest!" Loreat replied, looking to where the priest had stood. Loreat thought for a moment, the priest had said there would be a short warrior among them. "Perhaps you should join us, the priest mentioned someone like you..." Loreat said. "Well, I must take these goods to my clan, but I'll meet you at The Gold Coin tonight and adventure with you from there, I've heard adventuring can be most profitable." Replied the dwarf, with a merry gleam in his eye. With that, they parted ways.

Episode III: The Gold Coin

As the sun set, the party of two approached The Gold Coin. As they entered, the bar maids where just lighting the fire, and the last shafts of orange sunlight filtered through the windows and refracted from the crystal goblets used to serve elves fine wine, sending red rainbows zipping wildly against the walls.
Almost immediately, Loreat located Laguan sitting at a low wooden table near by. Moving to join him, the party settled around the table and ordered drinks. They sat talking merrily among themselves until the sun had fallen far beneath the horizon and the moon had risen high in a nearby window. The moon was colossal, and the streets were palely illuminated even at this late hour.
As the fire began to die, a man in leather armor with an evil look about him walked over. The man had a sadistic look about him, and reminded Loreat of a hideous demon. The mans eyes blazed with malignance as his pipe of devil weed glowed wickedly. Bending down and placing his face near that of Arthos, he blew a cloud of thick smoke directly in the paladin’s face. Arthos leapt up coughing lightly, and swiftly took up a barstool and swung it at the man. The man ducked out of the way and laughed maniacally, he gestured slightly with his left hand and in a crack of green light a horde of rats swept over the paladin. Laguan jumped up, drunk as an orc on his wedding day, and began flailing his ax in every direction it would go, and some it wouldn't. Loreat grabbed him from behind and after a short struggle, tossed him behind the counter for safe keeping, both of himself and everyone else. Laguan stayed only a short time behind the bar, and after cursing in dwarven at the barkeep; he leaped out with two bottles of liquor, having forgotten about the battle entirely. Realizing it was a good way to keep the intoxicated dwarf out of the fray, and assuming the paladin could hold his own against the evil warlock, Loreat grabbed a bottle and ran Laguan out of the bar, where they both got drunker, sang, danced, and attracted guards.
Meanwhile, the paladin was not fairing well against the conjurer. He had been badly hurt, and was sprawled unconscious on the floor, covered from head to toe in rats. The man stood over him laughing madly. "You feel the wrath of Gannondorf? All the world knows my wrath is terrible!" Just then, as Gannondorf was about to visit the final blow upon Arthos, city guards grabbed him from behind, and drug Gannondorf away, through the door, and out of sight. With his influence pulled from the room, the rats scurried away out the door, under tables, and even into the kitchen.
As Loreat reentered the bar, he found Arthos. After bandaging him, he took him up to the inn room. He had thought that a paladin would have been have faired better in combat. The party stayed the night at the inn, deciding the next morning they would take Arthos back to the temple to be healed.
So after a good nights sleep, with a fog thick as mud as well as a bitter gnawing cold, hanging over the city the three would set out for the temple in the dim morning sun.

Chapter 2

Episode IV: The Temple

The three of them arrived at the temple about three hours after leaving The Gold Coin, after having stumbled through the fog since they left. The fog settling over the city no doubt came from the sea, having been blown inland by a strong salty sea breeze. They were less than two miles from the docks, but on Hammer 2nd, with snow on the rooftops, and a biting cold that numbed any body part exposed to long, fog was relatively rare. The party trudged along quietly, feeling as dreary as the fog made the day. The whole of the city was silent, and the fog made it eerie. Every now and again, the fog would play tricks on their eyes, thickening in places to make the shadow of some monster momentarily before fading back to mist.
The party was grateful to reach the warm glow of the flame temple. As they climbed the ancient stone steps Laguan's axe, which stuck out to the right awkwardly, bumped one of the bowls of flaming oil, sending it toppling down into the gutter below. The sound of the bowl smashing echoed around the city like the sound of thunder, and sent flames racing down the gutters, and forming a small fiery waterfall where the liquid drained into the sewer. The commotion startled the party, and sent them darting inside the temple like scared children.
Inside, under the light of thousands of torches, the smell of the cinnamon incense, and the warmth of the series of oil channels that took burning oil all around the temple, they felt better. The oil in the channels flowed slowly from some unseen source near the ceiling. Down in little burning rivers that flowed across diminutive bridges and all about on the walls. Until finally finding their way into a large basin, full but somehow never overflowing, positioned on the platform where Acriliom gave his sermons. With the eerie world trapped outside the temples thick stone doors, they looked about for Acriliom.
As it happened, Acriliom was on the platform, though he was giving no sermon. He stood immersed in a book supported by a stone pillar, without looking up, or indeed even ceasing to read, he said, "I heard about your little battle last night." His voice thundering around the temple, otherwise silent, save the crackling of the flames and the gurgling of the oil. His voice brought back a little of the fear they had left outside. "The man insulted me, blew devilweed smoke in my face..." Arthos replied in a quiet almost child like voice. "You tried to strike first, and you even missed! And what’s more lost the battle..." Acriliom continued. "He is badly injured!" said Loreat in a voice much smaller than he had expected. Blue energy pulsed up without warning from the ornate, red marble floor, and Arthoses wounds healed immediately.
You must as penance, follow the north road from town, it will pass into West Wood where you must destroy the den of goblins that has been choking off trade and raiding Amphail. Once every goblin is slain, turn to head east, and ride out of the forest on the east road. After you exit, it will be a 20-mile journey east into a tiny thorp called Amphail. You must set out immediately, and you must not fail!" with that Acriliom looked up from his book down toward the tiny party with a haggard, concerned look about his face not suiting the strong booming voice he spoke with. In that moment, he looked less like the High Priest of The Lord of Flames, and more like a weary old man, with more than his fair share of the worlds hardships riding on his shoulders. He continued on to say, "Payment has already been rendered two days past, a diminutive sum indeed, and I daresay they could hardly pay it again."
The three looked at each other a moment, and then, lost for words, headed back outside the temple, and into the street. The fire in the gutters had burn itself out, and a soothing snow had begun to drift down through the fog.

Episode V: The Journey North

The three adventurers walked in silence through the mist. Laguan trudged along behind the others, wondering how he had come to be mixed up with some rascals who where going to walk through the snow for forty miles. He was already miserable, and his nose was utterly numb. He walked onward, thinking of home, and of the warm fires of his clan’s common room. After about five hours, during which the fog and light snowfall had given way to a fierce blizzard. Laguan realized he could no longer see the others ahead of him. His ears stung, and his body was getting stiff. He looked around, but all he could see in any direction was the snow, which swirled about him. So he closed his eyes, hoping that the dwarven senses responsible for guiding his kind through their tunnels, would tell him which way to go. The snow was falling so heavily, it blinded him. And even as he tried to take a step it built up around his feet, tripping him. After a moment he realized he was no longer walking, but rather turning in circles, looking for the road. He stopped and peered through the never-ending white. Although it was hard to say if it was truly never ending, because he could hardly see three feet in front of him. Just then a hand dropped lightly onto his shoulder, like a spider dropping upon some prey caught in its web. Jumping, he spun around and found that Gannondorf was standing directly behind him, grinning like the reaper. Laguan fumbled for his axe, although he couldn’t get his grip on it, because his hands were paralyzed with cold. His axe, rather than coming into his hand, flipped from its holder, down into the white. Gannondorf said quickly, "No need for weapons friend, I'm only here to help." "What if I don’t trust the likes of you, or further more need your help?" He shot back, bending and rummaging through the snow for his weapon. "Calm your self" Gannondorf said soothingly, waving his hand gently. He continued, "I have come to save you from the man whom calls himself Arthos." "Why would I need saving? Paladins are decent enough folks." he stated, finally recovering his axe from the snow. "Because that man is not truly a paladin." Gannondorf explained. "He isn’t? Surly he is, he was sent with us by the church." "The man fell to a Warlock in battle, and did not bother to heal himself. What kind of paladin doesn’t know how to use Lay Hands?" Gannondorf finished. Looking at Gannondorf, Laguan scratched his beard a moment. 'All that the man had said seemed true enough, and why would the paladin hesitate to heal him self?' he thought, perplexed. 'But then, why couldn't the priest tell the difference?' "I don’t know, the paladin didn't really strike me as a drow in elf plate..." he said, getting a grip on his axe, despite his reluctant fingers. "Well, if your not convinced, merely allow me to travel with you until Arthos shows his true colors as a priest of Bhaal." Gannondorf replied. After a moments thought, Laguan hesitantly agreed to let Gannondorf come along, and put his axe back in its holder. "But we will need to relocate the east road, and relearn which way is east for that matter..." Laguan said, remembering himself. Gannondorf pointed, and turning to look, Laguan was astonished to see that he stood on the road. The two of them took once again to walking through the snow, which had slowed its falling to a rate in which one could see a little better than they could only moments before. As the snow drifted all around, the shapes of the trees of West Wood loomed out of the white like an army of giants.
Less than half a mile to the north, Arthos and Loreat walked through West Wood. The forest was crisp, and the air felt clean and cool. Trotting along through the snow happily, they made snowballs and threw them at each other. Ducking behind a tree for cover, Loreat packed the snow into a nice round ball, and peeked out to locate Arthos. Just as he peeked out, he saw Arthos take the axe blade of a large ugly creature, into his right shoulder. In the blink of an eye, Loreat was out from behind the tree, had dropped his snowball, and had his great sword in hand. Before he could reach Arthos, two more of the creatures Loreat identified as bugbears, stepped between Loreat and his wounded companion. One of the creatures slashed at Loreat with his crude axe, but Loreat’s chain mail stopped the blow from doing any harm. Loreat brought his great sword crashing down upon the beast's head with terrible force, and blood spattered forth and drenched the other bugbear, whom recoiled in horror, looking first at his blood drenched clothes, then, with fear in his heart, to Loreat. Just as his eyes leveled with those of the fierce barbarian, the hobgoblin felt a searing pain in his stomach. Looking down, he saw Loreat the barbarian’s blade withdraw from his gut, leaving a large hole in its wake. The hobgoblin closed his eyes trying to wake up, as his blood pored from the hole. But even as the world faded from view, he felt that he was falling into a deep abyss, and his organs burned like fire. As Loreat stepped over the two brutish hobgoblin bodies, Arthos was severing the head of his foe, which had already fallen, but not ceased to breathe. "Where did they come from?" Loreat asked. "I'd guess they came from the den we're looking for." Arthos replied, not seeming to notice the potentially fatal wound on his shoulder. Just then, Laguan approached with Gannondorf. Arthos and Loreat cleaned the blood from their blades before spotting the pair whom were then directly on top of them. Standing, Arthos was startled to be peering into the face of the warlock, whom sneered back evilly. Before anyone could think, Arthoses blade was at the ready, it's tip even touching Gannondorf’s chin, leaving a small wound were it touched. Looking to Laguan, Arthos asked, "Why are you traveling with a foe?" Gannondorf replied with a grin "You must excuse my behavior last night in the inn. I meant no harm." Gannondorf smiled as nicely as he could manage as blood dribbled down his neck in a small stream. Though that was about as nice as a red dragon with hemorrhoids. Arthos thought a moment, and looked around at the others who stood watching him through the snow. Realizing he couldn’t kill the man Arthos sheathed his blade. "I seek to travel with you for a time." Gannondorf said. Arthos looked to Laguan, whom nodded, and then back up to Gannondorf. "I suppose you can travel with us, but if you should turn out to be treacherous, it'll be your head." With that, Arthos turned and looked around. The forest was white and dead, and all was still but the frigid wind that blew lightly through the high branches, causing a bit of snow to drop from a high branch lightly to the forest floor. Tracing the Bugbears tracks with his eyes, an easy task due to the snow, he saw a dark cave not 50 feet from the side of the road. "That, would be our goblin den." He said, walking off towards it. Loreat glared at Gannondorf, who gazed back haughtily. "I don’t trust you, and I think you’re up to no good. Arthos has decided to give you another chance, and I wont cross him. But watch yourself warlock." Loreat said, hostile as a rock giant. Gannondorf just laughed lightly and walked past him after Arthos, with Laguan following closely behind. Loreat turned and after a moment, walked after the group.

Episode VI: The Goblin's Den

As Loreat entered the cave, he could smell decomposing meat. The little light that filtered down through the sky and branches leaked in as a pale, dim light. The fog made seeing all the harder, and the chill continued to gnaw away at his fingers. Loreat looked ahead to Laguan, whom was shivering. A minute amount of warmth came from the air of the cave. The passage was long, and Loreat looked at his feet as he walked, to try and keep out the depressing visage of the cave walls, which were draped with melting Icicles. Just then, something brushed against face, he looked up just as a strand of barbed wire came taught around his head. Loreat yelled as he toppled to the ground with a long gash on his face. The slash stretched up from his lip, traveling up the bridge of his nose, and up onto his forehead. Loreat held his face and sat up, looking around, he saw Gannondorf bandaging a wound on his own chest, apparently having fallen victim to the wire before Loreat. Loreat took bandages from his bag and thought for a moment, there was no way to wrap his face without disabling his eyes. He put the bandages back and wiped the blood on his sleeve. It flowed down in red rivers, forming small lakes on the floor, in a desolate land of pebbles and sand. Loreat stood, and carefully avoiding the wire, continued with the others down the tunnel.
Soon they came to a place where the tunnel, previously 5 feet wide, widened to about 7 feet. There, from one side of the tunnel to the other, was a chasm about 5 feet across. On the near side of the chasm were a log fire and a straw stuffed mattress. Peering into the chasm, Laguan the dwarf heard the sound of deep breathing. So, Laguan peered into the darkness for a moment, and then leapt into it, axe in hand. Laguan fell for an eternity. The silent blackness rushed around him, pierced only by the sound of deep breathing below him. He closed his eyes for a moment. He felt the darkness all around him. The earth gave him strength, he felt the stone flying by in the darkness. And then he felt his fee strike hairy flesh. His axe rushed down, past his face with terrifying force, lodging itself into the flesh on which he stood. His feet slipped from the furry surface and landed on stone. Turning, he saw a bugbears body standing behind him. Its head exploded and blood spattered onto the walls. Looking into the hole, Loreat saw nothing. Then blood spurted from the hole onto his armor. Loreat leapt back in disgust. Just then, Arthos rushed past Loreat and leapt over the chasm. Looking across the chasm, Loreat saw two hobgoblins standing on the opposite side. Leaping across after him, Loreat saw Arthos take another axe in his shoulder. Landing on the other side, Loreat wasted no time plunging his great sword through one hobgoblin, sheath and all. The other hobgoblin turned, striking Loreat in the side with his axe. The blow knocked the barbarian backward a step. That step was just far enough to send him plunging into the abyss behind him. Arthos managed to plunge his long sword into the hobgoblin's side. The two hobgoblins crumpled to the floor in a heap of blood. In the pit, Loreat climbed from on top of Laguan. Looking over at the mutilated Bugbear with disgust. After they had climbed from the hole, they explored the cave more conclusively. Finding only a small snake near the end of the hallway. Having killed it, the four of them exited the cavern. Outside the cave, a man wearing black pants, a white shirt, and a black cloak that hid his face awaited them. The man held forth a sealed letter. "From master Nemtross." The man said in a hollow voice. Then the man turned and walked away through the forest. Loreat opened the note, which read as follows:

Dear Aust,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Congratulations on your conquest of the goblin den. I am holding a celebration in your honor at the Holimion estate, on Hammer the 5th. Mother and Father are the happiest I've ever seen them, even though they miss you horridly. Gea ran away less than a month after you left, but Pera is still here. I look forward to seeing you and your adventuring 'brothers'. Kemrin passed by a few days ago on his way to Watersdeep. This will be a celebration the likes of which Amphail hasn't seen in many decades.

-Loyally, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nemtross Holimion~~~~~~

"Who is Aust?" Laguan asked confusedly. "Aust is my proper name, this message is from my brother." Loreat answered, turning toward the group. "The truth is, I am a Holimion. Aust Holimion is my true name. And I have been away from home to long." With a smile he turned and walked down the east road. Later that night, around midnight, the four adventurers trudged weary and shivering through the front gate of the Holimion family mansion.

Chapter 3

Episode VII: The Mansion

The four heroes walked in through the thick wooden doors of the mansion, the front door was the only entrance to the mansion, because the wife of the builder, Kemrin Holimion III, was a half demon whore, and so, couldn’t abide windows. The Kemrin who now walked the earth was Kemrin VII, and was far worse than any Kemrin who had walked before him. Ever since Kemrin IV, whom was a psychotic Killer, the Kemrins, and indeed, the entire Holimion family had been unstable. Most people attributed this instability to the family’s demon blood. But the Kemrin that now walked was far worse. He had a notion to destroy the world, and no one that knew him doubted his ability to do so. Kemrin was single minded, extremely powerful, and wholly insane. The heroes looked about as the strong, intricately patterned doors closed behind them. Two stairways sporting some beautiful woodwork furled up to either side, and a door lied directly ahead. There was a woman standing in front of the door, looking at them. She was wearing a black satin dress, and beautiful black sandals. "Pera! How are you?" Loreat asked, exited to see his old servant again. "I’m fine, but Gea’s gone... she ran away a few weeks after you left." "Oh, really? How unfortunate, I had hoped for her companionship in my bed this evening..." Loreat replied, slightly let down. "Yes, that girl was unstable, after the abuse and all the commotion, and then you leaving, I'm afraid that daughter of mine went off the deep end. She left, but before she left she swore she'd return, and that the Holimion homestead would fall before midwinter." Pera sighed, looking around at the group she said, "I expect you're all very tired, I have your rooms prepared, you're all expected." With that she turned and led them to their rooms. The next day was a blur of activities. Eating and drinking, laughing and wandering the sizable house. The house seemed, despite its immense size, to be very cramped and small. This was due most likely to the lack of windows. The place felt like a dungeon, but none of them paid it any attention.
Laguan soon began noticing that the mansion was filled with things of value. Things that could keep his family clothed and fed for a great long time. Soon, he had slipped a book from the library into his backpack, and was sneaking out into the dusky twilight. The book was old, bound in slightly faded brown leather and the spine was made from finely crafted silver. The book had a strange blood colored rune on the cover, the likes of which Laguan had never seen. It was very ornate and fancy, with loops, curls, and lines running this way and that. Laguan couldn’t imagine even the most eccentric wizard creating such a rune for any mundane purpose. So great was it’s complexity, it almost hurt Laguan’s eyes simply to look at it.
Laguan made his way across the chilled plains, which were piled high with snow from the blizzard that had swept across the plains the previous day. The sky was alight with the millions of stars that danced overhead like fairies in love. Looking up, Laguan almost forgot himself for the wonder of the skies brilliant clarity. The sky was like a giant glass dome of deep blue, and upon it, sat millions of twinkling candle flames. Laguan stopped, overtaken by the sky’s brilliance, and stood a moment merely gazing up into the depths of the sky. Then he came to himself, and realized he was shivering. The plains where deadly cold, and if he didn’t get to shelter soon, he realized he may never make it to shelter at all. So Laguan began to trudge onward through the snow. Trying to keep it out of his pants, despite the fact that the snow was waist deep on him. ‘Blast my height, this snow would not even hinder an elf!’ he thought to himself. But he pushed onward, and eventually, he came to the town of Amphail.
The town was only two miles from the mansion, but it took Laguan a half an hour to arrive. And by the time he passed the city gates, his whole bottom half, nose, and ears, were numb with the cold. He strolled as naturally as possible to the door of a general store, and quietly slipped inside. He approached the counter, pulling the book from his pack, and set it hastily upon the counter. The shopkeepers gasped and stepped in close to examine the book. “How much can I get for it?” Laguan asked as quietly as he could without whispering. Just then, a voice broke the silence behind him, and said “You can’t sell that, it’s not yours to sell!” Laguan turned his head to look at Loreat, standing behind him. One merchant looked up apprehensively at Loreat. Loreat walked up to stand beside Laguan, practically bellowing “You dare to rob from your hosts?” And with that, Loreat slapped Laguan’s cheek. Loreats attempt at acting noble failed when Laguan’s axe flew from its holder and toward his gut. He leapt back, and all at once his great sword was in his hand, and he had struck Laguan a harsh blow on the top of his helmet. Just then, three guards burst in to investigate the commotion. Seeing Laguan’s form collapsed on the floor, the guards looked to Loreat “What happened here?” One guard asked quickly. “This man has stolen property from the Holimion estate, and I followed him here to retrieve it.” Loreat said calmly. “And who are you exactly?” one young guard practically spit, eager for battle. “I, am Aust Holimion.” Loreat replied, keeping his rage at the man contained. “My Lord!” The three said in unison, bowing and backing quickly out the door, and out of sight as quickly as they could. With that, Loreat hoisted Laguan onto his shoulder, and headed out the door, slipping the book into his own bag.
Moments later, Laguan woke up. Loreat dropped him and he crumpled up on the ground, unused to his own weight. Leaping back up as quickly as he could manage, Laguan ran away down the street. After getting out of sight, Laguan began shivering violently. It was cold, and clouds had begun piling up around the moon. Laguan headed for the nearest stable he could see. The man standing in front of the doors looked down at him and said politely, “Hello little master, what can I get you this evening?” “I n-n-need a h-h-horse” Laguan sputtered, shivering harder than the cold alone should have made him. “Well, we have a right cheap horse for only 100 gold, none to slow neither!” The man grinned malevolently, apparently sensing Laguan’s desperation. “I don’t have that much!” Laguan bellowed, suddenly furious. “Mind yourself now, wouldn’t want the guards involved would we? That the cheapest we have. Something’s been stealing them horses out of the fields, and they are getting rare round these parts.” The man replied. Laguan looked around, and saw three guards standing nearby, eyeing him warily. Seeing that, he turned and walked away without a word. Laguan waited just out of sight until the guards had left. Once the guards were out of sight, he positioned himself just behind the unsuspecting horse salesman. In the silence, Laguan raised his axe above the head of the man. Two miles away, the warlock Gannondorf brought his hands down through the empty air, and in Amphail, the dwarf known as Laguan, filled with senseless rage, brought his axe down through the skull of Trilep Hooftaker. As his children slept less than a hundred feet away, Trilep fell upon the ground dead as a stone.
Laguan saddled a horse as quickly as he could, and rode off blindly through the night. Back at the mansion, Nemtross and a robed figure waited in the moonlight. The light was very dim, and the men could see their breath in the chill. Nemtross was a colossal man. He stood nine feet tall with frame of a giant. Normal men who stood near him looked like halflings by comparison, and his body was covered in heavy muscle. As a cloud swallowed the moon, darkness fell. The two men could hear hoof beats approaching, and stared in vain through the darkness. With the speed of a viper’s strike, Nemtrosses arm shot out and caught Laguan off his horse. The horse continued bolting through the darkness, and crashed into the houses thick wooden doors. The doors toppled inward as the horse fell, neck broken to the ground. In silence, and under the cover of darkness, Nemtross carried Laguan into the house.

Chapter 4

Episode VII: Bhaal’s Kiss

As Loreat regained consciousness, he could feel something amiss within the house. His room was as it had ever been, but the air felt wrong, as if a demon was watching him. He slipped his great sword onto his back and opened his door a crack. As he peered out, the mansion was silent. And the walls seemed to be hiding something that was bigger than they were. Loreat peered down the hallway to Arthoses door. The door was ajar, so Loreat crept over and looked into the room. The room contained nothing but the wool blanketed bed and fine wooden dresser it had been furnished with. Loreat didn’t know what it meant, other than that Arthos no longer inhabited the room. He had no idea what would cause Arthos to pack up his belongings and vacate his room. ‘Could he have decided to head back to the temple early?’ He wondered confused. After a moments thought, Loreat decided to check if Laguan had perhaps gone with him. As he walked to Laguan’s door, a thought struck him, ‘If they left early, why wouldn’t they have told me?’ he wondered. Upon entering Laguan’s room, Loreat found that Laguan had never come back from town, let alone headed back to Watersdeep! And what was more, that someone had searched his belongings for valuables, and left his worthless possessions scattered about on the floor. Suspecting Gannondorf, Loreat raced to the warlocks room as fast as he could manage. He was furious, and could only think of taking the warlock by the throat and ripping him apart! Bursting in through the door, Loreat stopped dead. Ever thought of killing Gannondorf flew from his mind like a mouse from a dragon. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Gannondorf was in his bed, as if he was sleeping. But someone had stabbed him three times in the head! The three deep wounds were all too clearly visible in the torchlight, and the blood from them was all over the bed and floor. A large area of the carpet was dyed dark red, and bits of brain could be seen through the holes in his head. The blood was dry, and Gannondorf showed no sign of stirring, leaving no doubt that Gannondorf was extremely dead. It looked as if he had been killed in his sleep, never stirring at all. Loreat stood, bewildered until his brother Nemtross appeared behind him. “Oh! That’s a right mess! What happened?” Nemtross asked almost jumping out of his skin at the gory mess. “I, I don’t know.” Loreat muttered. “Well, I’ll fetch Pera to clean it up.” Nemtross continued, regaining his composure rather quickly. With that, Nemtross bound off for Pera’s quarters, leaving Loreat with the thought that his whole party had just died, again, just like last time.”
Outside, on a hill half a mile from the house, a black robed priest of Bhaal stood out from the snow like a sore thumb. He darted about, keeping low as he searched for something on the ground. Soon he slipped through an opening to the Underdark, laughing to himself about his brilliantly conducted scheme, and traceless escape. “Arthos the paladin indeed!” He cackled, slipping into the darkness. At the same time, a smallish robed man hammered away at a body suspended from the wall by manacles. Blood dribbled and drooled down the wall, mingling with dried blood from countless other victims. The man used a war hammer to strike areas that wouldn’t kill to fast, but would rather deliver maximum pain before death. On the wall, the body struggled weakly against the manacles, trying to stop the relentless blows to his flesh. The body’s mind screamed in madness and agony as its legs received a swift blow to the kneecap. The body that used to belong to the dwarf called Laguan moaned into the darkness, writhing in agony it no longer had the strength to understand the cause of.
Later that day, Loreat departed once again from his family’s home. The sun shone down brilliantly upon the plains, and the snow gave off a kind of sparkling glow. But Loreat had no heart to revel in the beauty. The celebration of the party’s victory was called off on account of the party’s untimely demise. And with a heavy heart, Loreat set back out for Watersdeep, wondering what he would tell Acriliom when he got there.