boat, surrounded by the black oil, and carefully lit it. They launched the craft with Harloon resting at the stern, one hand on the tiller, the other on his warhammer. Aleena cast a spell as it drifted away, and the tiny flame of the candle flared brightly, touching off the oil. With a whoosh, flames swept over the vessel and its noble occupant.
Noph stood silently gazing at the flames. How could the paladins claim to be men of goodness and light, and abandon their fallen? he wondered. They didn't deserve Harloon, who would never let them down!
When the light of the bier had disappeared around the bend, Noph looked down at his feet and spied the coil of rope, barely noticing that it had magically wound itself up.
'Can I have this-to keep in memory of Harloon?'
Aleena waved her hand over the rope. 'I detect no harmful energies,' she said. 'If no one minds, I think it'd be fine for you to keep it.' The rest nodded assent.
Jacob and Trandon moved to the point position as the party prepared to move into the caves of Undermountain with only a fragment of map to show the way. Miltiades walked next to Noph.
'Freeman Kastonoph, you fought passably well in your first combat. I salute your courage. However, we are likely to be tested again before we complete our quest, and more may die. We will not have time to treat others as we did Harloon. Grieving is appropriate, but we must mourn after the quest is completed.'
'Yes, sir.' Pretentious bastard!
'Let's get moving,' said Kern. 'The princess awaits.'
'She's not a princess!' insisted Aleena.
In the darkness ahead, the laughter burst forth again.
Interlude 4
When you lose control of the situation, just keep lashing out until you feel important again.
'Rejik, keep those manes under control!' 'I can't help it. The reflections keep trying to attack each other.'
The vrocks stood between two massive groups of lesser fiends, all jostling roughly amongst themselves; inarticulate obscenities echoed through the corridors around them. Hundreds of manes-bloated little creatures with pointed ears and noses, and spindly stalks of wiry hair growing from the backs of their heads- spread out of sight, filling the corridors of Undermountain with a horrendous din. Tiny slugs and leeches crawled under their colorless, fatty folds of skin as they jabbered incoherently and scratched at each other. Their pale, bulbous eyes seeped with yellowish, poisonous pus, which they wiped on their gnarled claws while they quibbled. To the other side stood dozens of brutish bar-lgura, looking like gigantic orangutans with savage lower fangs, surveying the army around them and shaking their heads balefully. They seemed to shimmer and blend with the stone walls beside them, as though they would disappear if they remained still.
Shaakat and Rejik cackled at their own ingenuity. The power required to beckon and command so many denizens of their cruel, chaotic native plane would have required weeks of exhausting work, but in Undermountain thanks to the power of a magical mirror they had found, they only needed to perform a summoning once for each type, lowly mane and sturdy bar-lgura. The floor-length glass lay embedded within the stone wall of a rough cavern, not far from the gate to the Utter East. Unadorned by any frame and unremarkable until the vrocks wandered within its radius of reflection, the device conjured perfect copies of the fiendish beings summoned by the vrocks. Now, instead of expending energy to muster troops, they labored magically to keep them from attacking everything in sight, especially each other.
'If the bloodforge can create obedient soldiers like the mirror creates berserk fiends, nothing can stop us,' thought Rejik.
'Now you think like a true tanar'ri,' returned Shaakat. 'Now General Raachaak'll have to deal with us! Come! Let us lead these miserable troops to glory and power.'
The vrocks flexed their telepathic powers. The manes squealed in protest, like a host of butchered pigs, but they turned and crowded after the vulturelike master tanar'ri, pushing and shoving. The barlgura frowned at the irresistible orders and grouchily complied, blending in with the screaming horde. In a river of shrill chaos, the fiends rushed toward the gate to the Utter East. They flowed into the terminal cavern and pooled around the two evil leaders, who ascended the platform and stood before the gleaming aperture. For a moment, the masses fell silent, instinctively bracing for a surprise attack.
'Victory!' cried the vrocks together as they strode through the archway… and to the other side of the platform, without teleporting anywhere.
'Passworded!' snarled Shaakat in sudden fury. 'The gate is passworded!'
His rage swept over the troops, who promptly dissolved into anarchy. They turned and charged out of the chamber, surging into the corridors of Undermountain, shrieking madly as they fled. A party of wandering drow, who had been approaching stealthily to investigate the disturbance, suddenly found itself overrun by the rampaging manes. The dark elves desperately tried to escape, then to defend themselves from the murderous throng, but died screaming. And the stampede continued.
Chapter 5
'We've been going east for hours, now,' groaned Noph. 'We've got to be close!'
The party stripped off their backpacks and sat in a cavern with just enough floor and head space to accommodate the seven of them. Its smooth limestone surfaces, streaked with strands of burgundy and brown blended like pools of color, spilling and swirling together. The rock gracefully bent and turned at right angles, creating natural seats for the weary heroes. Irregular rifts in the walls and ceiling led in every direction, but three large passageways branched off from the chamber-one to the southwest, from which they'd come, one to the southeast, and the third due east. A distant cacophony rumbled in from the passage to the east, perhaps a crowd of creatures or the rush of the sea.
'Still no sign of any room that appears on this map of Khelben's,' said Miltiades, studying the parchment under the light of an enchanted jewel. 'This mazework of caves and corridors required the work of a twisted genius!'
A whisper of laughter echoed through the hallways.
'You're welcome,' scoffed Jacob to the darkness.
'Actually, we've been extremely lucky,' said Aleena. 'We've only encountered a handful of monsters, and most of them were of the bite-and-run variety.'
'That's because somebody else has already been through this area,' replied Miltiades. 'We've certainly encountered a lot of bodies.'
'Who do you suppose wiped out those beholders back there?' asked Able. 'Whoever did it, I hope they're on our side.'
'Many groups of adventurers wander these hallways, honing their survival skills,' said the wizardess.
'I'd say whoever killed those beholders is ready for dragons,' said Noph.
Trandon stood and walked a few steps into the eastern corridor. 'Whatever's making that noise, it's getting louder.'
Kern got up and joined him, staring into the impenetrable darkness ahead. He concentrated on the noise, trying to decide if it was a mass of voices or blowing wind. Without warning a wave of nausea drenched him. He staggered back from it, his vision spinning. Trandon lunged for him as he fell. The warrior caught the young paladin in his burly arms and lowered him gently to the floor.
'Tyr save us!' sputtered Kern. 'I've never felt so much concentrated evil in my life!'
Miltiades stepped into the shaft, steeling his nerves against the assault that overpowered Kern. Bitterness stung his heart like wet hornets, and he turned away from it. While the others looked on, he marched over to the northeastern corridor.
'Evil in that direction as well, but not so strong as from the east.'
'Time for justice!' swore Kern, struggling back to his feet and glaring down the east shaft. Jacob drew his
