Below him, Sanction filled the steep-sided valley that lay between the three great volcanoes and a steaming, lava-scarred harbor. The waterfront faced a finger of the Newsea that dared to probe into the forbidding Doom- range. The fiery mountains smoked and rumbled, dor shy;mant only to the extent that they did not now spew flame and rock into the sky.
Great cracks on the face of the northeastern summit emitted twin rivers of slow, remorseless lava into the val shy;ley. The widest of these streams was joined by flaming spillage from the southern mountain, creating the great Lavaflow River. Dull crimson, the molten rock seethed and bubbled through the heart of the city. The flow was spanned in several places by wide stone bridges. At night, Ariakas found the massive, inexorable river strangely compelling. Then its radiance reflected from the glowering cloud cover-an ever-present mix of sea mist and volcanic ash, casting the city in an eerie and pervasive light.
The waterfront was a steamy, stinking collection of buildings smashed shoulder to shoulder like patrons pushing into a crowded tavern. Numerous small ships filled the wharves and docks, the lot nestled between two natural breakwaters formed of hardened lava. Beyond the breakwaters to either side sprawled flat, steaming deltas of fiery fury, boiling water hissing away from contact with the slowly expanding shelf of liquid rock.
Around this sweltering waterfront sprawled alleys and courtyards, great manor houses and teeming slums. Even the marketplace of Khuri-Khan paled in compari shy;son to several of the thriving bazaars in Sanction. As the only natural harbor in the entire eastern expanse of the Newsea, Sanction drew restless souls like a magnet. It also stood at the terminus of the only road through the Khalkist Mountains. This wide valley opened onto a pass between Sanction and cities to the north and east- productive mercantile centers such as Neraka and Kala-man. This valley and port linked to form the only connection between eastern and western Ansalon.
The population of Sanction was far and away the most diverse gathering Ariakas had ever seen. Tall plainsmen from Abanasinia traveled with painted Kagonesti elves, while humans from Solamnia sold all manner of goods to merchants from places as far as Neraka and Balifor, or even bartered with minotaurs, Kayolin dwarves, and an occasional, regal Silvanesti elf. The scampering kender were ubiquitous. Other short folk-smaller even than kender or dwarves-went about the city cloaked in dark robes. Ariakas noticed that many citizens gave these robed midgets a wide berth.
From a distance, most of the buildings of Sanction blended into a melange of brown, black, and gray blocks. A great plaza sprawled along the riverbank, rended by steaming fissures and chasms. Several noble manors stood on higher slopes, crowning the city's skyline. One of these now belonged to Ariakas: in Sanction, nobility was purely a matter of wealth, and Ariakas was a very wealthy man indeed. In fact, after only three days in this metropolis, the warrior had gained for himself all the trappings of nobility, most obviously symbolized by this splendid manor on the southern heights of Sanction valley.
Three structures in the city loomed proud and solitary over even the great villas and mansions, bowing only to the mighty volcanoes themselves. These were the Great Temples, of which Ariakas had heard a little. Built at the time of the Cataclysm on the lower slopes of each Lord of Doom, the temples consisted of walls, buildings, and subterranean chambers. Each was an impregnable fortress, and each held commanding position over a great section of the city. The mightiest, the Temple of Luerkhisis, stood to the northeast.
Upon entering Sanction, however, Ariakas had been strangely reluctant to approach the great temple. Instead, he immediately sought the moneychangers, several of whom bid frantically for the locket and gems. By night shy;fall of his first day he had been a rich man, and by the next day he had purchased a grand house.
The stone-walled residence consisted of two dozen large, airy rooms gathered around a teak-lined great hall, the whole ringed by a perimeter of balconies and columns. Outside, a wide courtyard encircled two sides, with a large stable in another direction and the once-lush garden to the rear. The fountains in the courtyards had been dry for years, and the hedges reduced to tinder-brush and thistle, but Ariakas had plans to restore the place to its former glory. And still the garden offered wide walkways and several good views, overlooking much of the lava- ravaged city.
After settling his house purchase with the formerly impoverished seller, Ariakas had enough money left over to purchase several fine horses, and then to hire a dozen servants, contracting them through the year. Tonight he had eaten a splendid meal cooked in his own kitchen, and then he retired to the garden for a stroll. For the first time since leaving the tower, the frantic pace of his travels had eased, and he found himself with no clear task before him. At the same time he felt profoundly rest shy;less, agitated. Looking across the valley to the highest temple, he knew without question the source of his dis shy;comfort.
Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, awaited him.
At times he had come close to convincing himself that his sojourn in the tower-and especially the memories of his last hours there-were the products of some delu-sionary dream. Of course he knew the truth, but a part of him had urged during the long hike to Sanction that he abandon the calling cast his way. He hadn't chosen any test-and why should the plans of others matter to him?
Yet never could he rationally embrace this urge. The events in the tower had been branded into his mind and his soul. He had made the vow and slain the lady, had witnessed the vision of a goddess he'd thought long dead. A destiny had been laid upon him there, and it was a fate he could not think of avoiding.
He felt he deserved a certain sense of pleasure and accomplishment after his arrival in this great city. His brief forays had shown him taverns, casinos, brothels, and smoking dens aplenty. Yet now he was completely disinterested in such common entertainment.
Still, across the wide valley loomed the Temple of Luerkhisis. It was positioned on a gentle slope, a com shy;manding yet contained presence. Resembling the half-submerged head of a crocodile, the structure leered from the heights like a huge, monstrous reptile, its serpentine snout pointed straight at Ariakas. Two vast cave-nostrils led into entry halls, and round temple buildings perched like bulging eyes on the ridge above the maw. On dusks such as this one, the rays of the sun penetrated the ash cloud, illuminating the sinister bulk of the temple with a surrealistic glow.
Ariakas stood, and again his memory drifted back to the tower … to the lady. He missed her still, though not so much as he had during the long, bleak trek to Sanc shy;tion. While climbing among the peaks, he had recalled each detail of her perfect body. every smell, every nuance of each meal she had served. Gradually the memories had faded into a sort of gentle background, pleasant to recall but irrelevant to the matters at hand.
Now, when he saw that great temple on the mountain shy;side, staring down at him like some gargantuan dragon regarding an ant, the full force of the Dark Queen's will stormed within him. He knew an awful sense of failure, of abject unworthiness to serve her. Ariakas staggered backward, falling against the brittle branches of a with shy;ered yew. Cursing the sharp pain, he bit back his com shy;plaints, bowing to the rekindled awe he felt before the Queen of Darkness.
As if it had lain dormant like these steaming volca shy;noes, the full force of her will swept through him. He would serve her! He already bore the talisman, the white-bladed sword, and now he would go to her temple and take up service in her name. What kind of greeting to expect, he didn't know, but that concern meant less than nothing. All thoughts of freedom vanished. The desires of his goddess now known to him, he left his house, hurrying through the streets of Sanction to reach her temple.
With sunset, the city came to life around him. Streets that had been empty an hour earlier thronged with people, and he pushed his way through crowds to ap shy;proach the great stone bridge in the city center. He wore his sword visibly. Since the huge blade was too long to wear at his waist, it rested in a scabbard strapped to his back, with the two-handed hilt jutting upward over his left shoulder. The sight of the weapon encouraged even armed men to give way.
Tavern keepers threw open their doors and numerous customers quickly gathered, further blocking the streets where Ariakas tried to pass. Most of these hearty social-izers seemed to be seasoned mercenaries like himself. Curious, he wondered who they served. He had seen no standard of any army posted around the city, and as a free trade center Sanction had little need for its own mili shy;tia. The uncommon number of men-at-arms, he pre shy;sumed, were drawn to the city by its numerous exotic delights, and the great value of imported coins.
The road opened into the Fireplaza, where the crowd thinned. Ariakas looked across the broad courtyard, intrigued by the strange monument at the far end: three stone ships, appearing to float some distance off the ground. It had caught his eye before, but he had yet to find out what it was. Now, however, he was too intent on reaching the temple to detour for a closer inspection.
As Ariakas climbed the gentle lower slope of the mountain, the activity of the streets fell away behind him. He moved over a broad, flat shoulder of the massif. It was an empty space, but his soldier's mind suggested that it
