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Library: The taking of Revelstone (edit mode)


Author: Zia
Date:Dec 5 1995

     "I tire of this. We've been waiting outside this keep for weeks now!
We've seen all we can see. We should strike now, before every ounce of
initative leaves us." Laboriously slowly, Moonshine walked across the
clearing. He continued his rant. "We wait. We watch. And all the while Lord
Foul grows stronger. All this watching and waiting is going to do is get us
killed, while the Land dies."
     They were an odd bunch, standing on the hillock, overlooking the fortress
known as Revelstone. The speaker was Moonshine. His walk was more of a
shamble, his left leg dragging slightly. And the rest of the group seemed to
tactfully ignore the bits of flesh that kept dropping off his body. For
Moonshine was a Zombie - one of the long dead, yet animated and able to walk
the earth. He was dressed in a white shimmering cloak, denoting his status as
a healer. While his talk and hands were animated, his eye sockets contained
nothing but the muck and mire of the grave. He continued, "I'm sure the others
will agree with me. Ask them." He waved his arms so wildly that the woman he
was speaking to ducked slightly. Some of the rotted flesh spattered against
her clothing.
     "As you wish." The woman inclined her head slightly. Other than that, she
remained perfectly still, a trait most found disturbing. Even the breeze that
was cooling the hill didn't seem to touch her. Her skin was as pale, a sharp
contrast to her red lips and fingernails. She was garbed all in black, from
her black hooded cape to her boots which were shined until she could look down
and see her own reflection - if she had one. She smiled now, a smile as feral
as a beast's, exposing her two sharp canines. Vampire. She turned to the two
other men. "Moonshine thinks we have waited and watched enough..." Her words
always seemed to trail off in a hiss. "What say you?"
     There was a loud thunk, as a huge battleaxe bit into a nearby tree. And a
cracking and snapping sound as it was toppled the rest of the way by a push
from the man just beyond the reach of the fire. But he was unmistakable as he
lifted the tree with little more than a grunt and hauled it over, tossing it
onto the fire. The vampire, Zia, stepped back with another hiss. "Beware
Kublakhan," she said, slipping a mace from somewhere in her cloak, "you know
how I feel about too much light." The gigantic man opened his arms in a shrug
of helplessness and nodded. "Sorry." he said, and sat with a thump. His fist
pounded into the ground, leaving a dent in the earth. "Moonshine right. We go.
Bored here. Nothing to .kill." Adding emphasis to his statement, Kublakhan
hefted a stone, and squeezed. Water dripped from his hand. Only a cyclops had
that much power, and that's what Kublakhan was. Blinking slowly with his one
eye, he looked at the woman, and then with a slow turn of his head, at the
zombie. "We go?"
     Unblinking, Zia shook her head. "We have yet to hear from the silent
Phantros." All eyes turned to the man seated with his back to one of the still
standing trees. Six eyes blinked with surpise, as the man scrambled to his
feet to step forward, his flute and carving forgotten. He was a jack of all
trades, and all trades that used hands, for that was what Phantros had in
abundance - hands. And arms. He was a thrikhren, a race that had insect
ancestry, most evident in the numbers of arms and the number of eyes they had.
With an apologetic look at the vampire, he replied, "Moonshine is right,
Princess. We will lose our edge if we wait much longer." 
     Zia sighed. "You have your wish, Moonshine. We go." In a swirl of black
silk, she turned her back to the fire. "Everyone ready yourself. We leave
in... two hours." The rest of the party nodded, and each turned to make their
various preparations.

     Slipping into the castle unseen was easier than any of the party
expected. Moonshine's invisibility spell hung over them all, and that -
compounded with factors such as exhausted guards and lots of luck - helped
them gain the inner chamber of High Lord Elena. The two Haruchai stood guard,
the elite core called Bloodguard, and rightfully named. They were a mountain
people, and since High Lord Kevin uttered the Rite of Destruction on the Land,
they had become the sworn protectors of Revelstone and the Lords within. Their
stregth, fighting skills and stamina were legend. And here, the party faced
two of them. Outside the doorway, Kublakhan took a few practice swings with
his axe, and Zia fingered the spikes on her mace. "They will see us, you
realize," she murmured. "It's well-known that the Bloodguard can not only
sense magic, but those with ill will toward the Lords."
     "What would you suggest, Princess?" Phantros asked.
     "Just watch, and wait for my signal," she said. And with that, she faded
into the shadows. Moonshine muttered a curse under his breath.
     "She does that on purpose," he complained bitterly. "Vampire or not, one
day she's going to get herself killed with her theatrics." Phantros shrugged
and patted his friend on the shoulder. It was then that they heard a thump in
the room.
     "The SIGNAL!" bellowed Kublakhan, and he rushed into the room, axe
swinging wildly. Moonshine and Phantros ran after him. The sight that met them
was no less shocking than any of their previous battles together, but never
failed to suprise. One of the Bloodguard was slumped on the floor, blood
seeping from a gaping wound on his neck. A clash of steel, and their eyes were
drawn to the battle taking place - the Bloodguard known as Crowl engaging Zia
and now Kublakhan in battle. The guard's movements were so swift that he was
able to hold off both fighters, although an observer could see him tiring.
Moonshine and Phantros wasted no time in rolling up their sleeves and falling
into the trance of the spellcaster. Moonshine called upon his patron saint,
Tarmalen, and his whole body seemed to begin to shimmer. Even as his chant
progressed, the bleeding of Zia and Kublakhan slowed and began to heal.
Phantros, meanwhile, called on the raw magic existing in the iar, and gathered
it into an arrow-shaped missile which he hurled at the Bloodguard.