the sorcereress had cloaked all of them with an invisibility spell. Though he couldn’t see them, he knewthat his followers lurked somewhere behind him, ready to attack when the time was right.
He entered the chamber protected by the sinking door just a few moments after his enemies. The nearness of Acererak’s spirit nearly crushedhis mind. The protective wards he had woven like a castle wall around him were fraying and ready to split.
Swirling dust caught his attention as the Nyrondese party fanned out to explore the room. Within moments the dust had formed into the semblance of a man and approached the tomb’s defilers. Looking at the creaturethrough senses that were stretched to their breaking point beneath the dark wizard’s metaphysical assault, it was clear that the mystic construct offered noreal danger. The true presence of Acererak lingered somewhere within this room, cleverly hidden.
Phathas too must have realized this, for the mage commanded the rest of his party to ignore the insubstantial creature. Instead, he ordered the bard to place a cylindrical key within the indentation that marked the center of this high-peaked vault Durgoth watched as the fiery-haired half-elf carefully inserted the key and turned it three times. The floor trembled mightily.
Durgoth watched in amazement as the south section of the room rose into the air, disgorging centuries of dust and powdered stone. He fell back quickly as his enemies each backed away from the moving floor. When the dust cleared, he could see a vault, composed entirely of silver, now filled the latter half of the room. Beyond that door he could sense Acererak’s spiritrising in power, eager to be set free upon the world once again.
After a brief hesitation, the elf walked up to the door, grabbed the inset ring in the vault’s center, and pulled. The vault door swungopen slowly, revealing a veritable king’s ransom in treasure. The glitter ofgems, jewelry, and countless thousands of coins mesmerized the eye as light entered the vault’s interior for the first time in innumerable centuries.Durgoth nearly jumped as he heard a slow whistle of appreciation behind him. He cast an angry glance at his followers, knowing that they couldn’t see him, butwishing that he could kill them all now. Thankfully, the Nyrondese were engrossed in their own examination of Acererak’s burial vault and hadn’tdetected them-yet.
His anger dissipated as he watched Bredeth jerk violently forward, like a rag doll responding to the commands of a cruel owner. The prophecy had been explicit about the steps needed to summon Acererak and retrieve the key. Durgoth had made sure that Sydra knew what she needed to have Bredeth do once they had stumbled upon the wizard’s crypt.
Durgoth smiled as the noble’s companions called out to him.Heedless of their cries, the young man reached out and touched the top of a small skull that lay in the back of the tomb. Durgoth fell to his knees as he felt Acererak’s spirit respond to the touch and phase into this plane ofexistence. Waves of dark energy filled the room, and the last of Durgoth’sspiritual defenses crumbled.
“Now!” he shouted to his followers-and watched calmly astheir shimmering forms winked into existence moments before they reached the confused knot of Nyrondese nobles.
The battle had begun.
Kaerion spun at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, hastily raising his shield as shadowy figures appeared out of nowhere. Among them, he recognized the familiar shape of a red-cloaked man, moving with unearthly speed toward him. Anger warred with disbelief. Their attackers from Rel Mord had returned. But how?
He didn’t have time to answer. The robed figure leapt theremaining few feet between them and aimed a vicious kick at Kaerion’s head.Kaerion brought up his shield, blocking the kick, but the force of the blow knocked his shield a few inches to the left, offering the monk’s follow-throughpunch no resistance. Kaerion rolled with the blow, letting some of its force dissipate as his momentum carried him toward the vault’s far wall.
The monk continued forward, pressing the attack. Though Kaerion was armored and relatively unhurt, he still had difficulty parrying the flurry of kicks and strikes the pock-faced man was delivering. Desperately, he ducked beneath a roundhouse kick and sliced viciously with his sword. Obviously surprised by the maneuver, his opponent didn’t quite dance out of the way intime. Kaerion’s blade cut deeply into the man’s calf.
Kaerion would have pressed his sudden advantage, but he stumbled as an explosive wave of frost-chilled air enveloped the room. At the same time, needles of hot fire stabbed into his brain. He tried to close himself off to the agony, to find a center of focus in the maelstrom of pain, but he was unsuccessful. The fetid presence of Acererak pressed in on him. He could feel the corruption that was the ancient wizard’s spirit surrounding him-a miasma ofpollution and evil that sucked the air from his lungs. He knew that Bredeth’shasty actions had somehow summoned the creature back from beyond the grave.
Kaerion forced open eyes that he did not remember closing, trying to blink away the pain-wrought tears that threatened to blind him. He scanned the immediate area for his opponent, wondering why the monk hadn’tfinished him off when he had the chance. He found the man standing completely still, gazing up above Kaerion’s right shoulder. Carefully, lest it prove sometrick, Kaerion looked in the same direction.
Bands of ice pressed round his heart at what he saw.
Behind him, floating idly in the air, a bleached white skull, a terrifying intelligence alight in its ruby eyes, gazed upon the scene of battle. The skull’s eyes pulsed with an unearthly glow, and Kaerion saw thewicked delight shining in their depths. This perception was heightened by the row of diamonds inset into the creature’s jaw, forming an array of teeth thatwere exposed in such a way as to resemble a cruel smile.
From the waves of pure evil that flowed from this thing, Kaerion knew that the skull must be the focal point for Acererak’s spirit Itcontinued to survey the battle that still raged around it. As if searching for something, Kaerion thought, but what?
Dimly, Kaerion saw Majandra, Gerwyth, and Landra battling a hulking figure that lashed out with large, misshapen fists. Kaerion cried out as he saw, in the light of the party’s torches, that they battled nothing less thana golem. Its disfigured mass made each of them look like a small child in comparison. Gerwyth ducked underneath a powerful swing and sliced the creature’schest twice with his gleaming short swords, while the light of Majandra’s spellsslammed into its puckered flesh. Landra aimed a devastating blow at the monster’s neck that might have had an effect if the golem hadn’t knocked theblade aside as if it were a gnat and launched the veteran against the wall.
He had to do something, but trapped between the awful presence of the skull and the coiled power of the monk, Kaerion felt a moment of indecisiveness. If he attacked the skull, surely the monk would strike at his back. Yet, he couldn’t allow the demi-lich to perpetrate whatever foul plan ithad in mind. And where in the Nine Hells was Bredeth? Kaerion hadn’t seen thenobleman since he had ignored the party’s warnings and touched the skull.Wherever he was, Kaerion thought angrily, he’d better appear soon. Hiscompanions couldn’t stand against that golem too much longer without some aid.
Just then, he felt a warning tingle flash down his back. Turning slightly, he saw that the skull had fixed its gaze upon Phathas, who was currently unleashing spell after spell, with surprising speed, at the blond-haired sorceress who had attacked them in Rel Mord.
“Phathas, look out!” Kaerion shouted, and had to duck as themonk sprang back into action.
Without turning his back upon his arcane adversary, Phathas looked in the fighter’s direction. The mage held one hand forward, summoningblue-tinged energy that streaked toward the sorceress, while he raised his staff in the air with his other hand and shouted a single word. A bubble of white force cocooned around the ancient mage. Kaerion winced as he saw a ray of pure darkness shoot out from the ruby eye of Acererak’s skull. The two opposingforces met with an explosion that rocked the room. Looking past his opponent, Kaerion watched in horror as the mage’s shield collapsed under the assault. Tohis relief, however, the mage emerged unscathed.
“The skull, Kaerion!” Phathas shouted. “You must destroy theskull! It’s the key to Acererak’s power!”
Kaerion nodded in understanding. He feinted high with his sword and then reversed the attack, stabbing at the monk’s thigh. Quicker than atiger, the man jumped back, offering Kaerion an opening.
Time slowed as the fighter placed both hands upon the hilt of his sword and, turning hard along his center, using the movement of his hips to add force to the blow, brought his blade down along the side of Acererak’sskull.
The blade shattered, exploding into a host of small metal needles that shot across the room.
Kaerion fell back, weaponless except for the familiar weight of Galadorn, which he could not draw. The monk moved forward, a cruel smile upon his face. “Let’s see how good you are without your little weapons,” hechallenged.
