T Lain - City of Fire

“Listen!” the azer said. The harshness of Gum’s voice jarred Regdar out of his reverie and he looked at the fiery dwarf. “My mephit servants—they should be able to get you back to the street, but then you must run for the gate. There isn’t much time. I’m sorry for your friend; I did not think the collapse would happen so quickly.”

Regdar wanted to argue, but another rumble interrupted him. More cracks appeared in the white wall and the floors. A mephit, followed by a dozen more, swirled up around him. He felt himself lifted off the ground then he landed heavily again. He swatted at the azer’s servants and growled.

“Come on,” Alhandra pleaded with the fighter.

Regdar saw the creatures of smoke and fire try to lift her as well. She did not resist, but they had trouble anyway.

“Your armor,” the azer said. “It may be too heavy.”

“No!” Krusk said suddenly. “Here!”

He threw something heavy at their feet.

It was the blackguard’s carpet, torn and singed, but when Alhandra stepped cautiously aboard it rippled to life.

“Come on,” she yelled again, reaching out to Regdar. The fighter turned back toward the bubble but Alhandra grabbed him. Lurching with surprise, Regdar stumbled onto the carpet, then tried again to pull away. A thick forearm wrapped around his neck from behind and squeezed, harder than anything Regdar had ever felt. He struggled with all his might without catching a wisp of breath. He twisted and kicked, but still felt himself being dragged inexorably backward onto the carpet. Regdar’s eyes locked on Naull’s body as darkness crept in from the edges of his vision. The carpet rose with Krusk cradling the fighter’s unconscious body between his knees, rocking back and forth.

Standing on the shifting lava floor, the azer watched as the paladin steered the carpet through the minaret’s swirling flame walls and out over the crumbling city.

Outside the tower, pieces of the building were breaking loose and falling away. The flaming walls flickered and blazed in surges of heat. This did not trouble Gurn. He did not fear the flames and he fingered a small ring that he knew would keep him from falling.

Moving around the throne to the bubble of force, the azer looked at the blackguard. She no longer smiled, but looked off into the sky at her departing enemies.

The azer moved around to face the blackguard.

“You have failed,” he said simply.

She shrugged. “This time, slave, this time. Hextor hoped to gain a servant from my mission, and I hoped to gain powerful magic.” Looking down at Naull’s unconscious form she concluded, “perhaps all is not lost.”

“You are,” Gurn pronounced. More of the floor collapsed, beginning a long plummet to the burning city below. The bubble of force teetered near the edge of the broken tower. “I will see you burn, servant of Hextor. Secrustia Nar may be destroyed, but it will never serve evil again. And neither will you.”

The blackguard laughed. She laughed as the fires erupted around the azer’s feet and he glared at her and thought her mad. Before the rest of the tower could fall into the fire, however, she stopped laughing. Drawing an amulet from beneath her breastplate, she looked at it and placed it on the ground. A moment later, she chanted words in an ancient and foul language. A blue form rose from the disk and spoke to the blackguard in the same language. Nodding, the black knight knelt and picked up the disk and the body of the wizard.

The azer’s eyes narrowed, but he could do nothing. With a last, jaunty wave, the blackguard, the wizard, and the disk winked away. Moments later, the tower groaned, twisted visibly, and toppled lengthwise. Gurn hovered above it and watched its long, graceful fall into the roiling flames. With a last look at the inferno that had been the white tower, the azer sighed and turned away.

… Regdar, Krusk, and Alhandra stood at the base of the canyon as the sun set over the edge. Alhandra’s lantern provided some light, but after their travels through Secrustia Nar it seemed feeble indeed.

While waiting for Regdar to regain consciousness, Alhandra and Krusk had searched the canyon for their horses. As Alhandra feared, the gnolls had found them, but while Stalker died a bloody death, Windlass had fled to safety. The beast returned at Alhandra’s calls, and Krusk marveled aloud at the horse’s training.

“Some day,” Alhandra said in answer to the half-orc’s questions, “if I am true to my calling and serve Heironeous faithfully, he may give me a mount to use in his service. Until then,” she said, tossing Windlass’s mane and smiling slightly, “my pretty lass will have to do.”

Regdar hung his head as Alhandra watered and tended her horse. He’d woken badly, at the cave mouth above the canyon, and nearly fallen off. When the initial shock and anger wore off, he forgave Krusk for choking him unconscious. He hadn’t spoken to Alhandra.

When the paladin finished with her mount, Krusk was off trying to find something for them to eat. Their packs were left behind in the City of Fire and they had only one waterskin between them.

“I’m sorry,” Alhandra said finally.

Regdar didn’t respond immediately. When Krusk found his way back to them, clutching a pair of dead lizards in his fist, the fighter spoke.

“It’s all right, Alhandra,” he said heavily. “It’s all right.”

The paladin put her hand out to reassure him, but Regdar leaned away. She let her hand fall as if the slight meant nothing.

“What are you going to do now?” Regdar asked. He sounded almost casual, but Alhandra heard the tightness in his voice.

“I talked it over with Krusk while you were recovering,” Alhandra said. “We’re going to Kalpesh. If—” Alhandra paused for a moment, then continued in an even voice—“her army is still there, maybe we can do something about it. If Kalpesh is destroyed…” She shrugged. “Krusk needs to know, and maybe we can help the survivors. Who knows?” she added hopefully, “maybe the army disintegrated when the blackguard left.”

“Maybe,” Regdar said, looking back up at the cave.

“I don’t know that we could have done anything differently, Regdar,” Alhandra said.

She wished there had been something else to do, but she’d been overmatched. The blackguard of Hextor threw her around like a rag doll. Only Naull’s sacrifice allowed the rest of them to escape.

“We could have been better,” Regdar answered bitterly. “We could have planned better, or fought better, or damn-well killed her instead of letting Naull—” The fighter broke off.

“Sacrifice herself,” Krusk said. The other two looked at the half-orc with a little surprise. He met each of their stares with his own mismatched gaze in turn. “She knew she had to do something important. She died doing it, so we could live,” he said, staring at Regdar. He turned his gaze back to Alhandra. “So we could continue fighting.”

“At least Naull took the blackguard with her,” Alhandra added to Krusk’s unusual insight.

“At least,” Regdar said hollowly, but he agreed with Krusk. “And we will get better.”

Straightening his gear and checking his bandage, Regdar looked ready to go.

“What about food?” Krusk asked. He held up the dead lizards.

A ghost of a smile came over the fighter’s face and he said, “You two enjoy. Two lizards isn’t much to share across three plates.” He stepped out northward. “I might be able to reach Durandell before my stomach thinks those little beasties look edible.”

Krusk put on a slightly injured look, then laughed. He held out a meaty hand and Regdar accepted it in his mailed grip. The barbarian patted Regdar’s armored shoulder.