Richard Knaak - The Citadel

What would Stone do once he discovered that the cleric couldn’t even help herself, let alone the gargoyle?

Rapp had no time to ponder that. He hurried on down the corridor the opposite way, following Stone’s vague direction and hoping he would discover Tyros soon.

The halls here were not lit by glowing crystals, but rather a few torches spread intermittently along the walls. For humans, the hallways would have been dark and gloomy. Not only could the kender see well, but he also enjoyed the spooky effect given off by the flickering flames. Rapp imagined wonderfully scary ghosts and creatures inhabiting the castle, perhaps even the spirit of the Solamnic Knight who had built Atriun in the first-

A figure seemingly made of shadow loomed over him, reaching out with one bony but strong-looking hand.

Rapp backed away just in time. Under the heavy robe, vacant eyes stared at the kender, sending an exciting chill through the tiny intruder. Rapp knew that he had to be close to his goal; otherwise, this unliving sentry would not have appeared so suddenly. Some invisible spell must have alerted the creature … at least, that would have been how the kender would have designed the trap.

Pulling his slingshot free, Rapp thrust a round stone into the sling, then let loose. His aim proved true. The missile scored a direct hit on the forehead of the ghoulish servant. Unfortunately, it bounced off without any noticeable effect.

“Oh, dear.” Backing away farther, the kender drew a dagger … not his own, but one that somehow had slipped from Bakal’s belt into his. For the smaller Rapp, the dagger nearly served as a short sword. He waved the weapon at the shadow servant, who hesitated. So, blades did worry them. Feeling more daring, Rapp thrust it forward, trying to drive the unliving guardian back.

A hand seized the dagger by the blade. Thick black fluid spread from where the blade cut into dead flesh, but the ghoulish sentry remained undeterred. With strength belying its emaciated form, the creature tore the dagger from Rapp’s grip, dropping it on the floor. The other hand again sought the kender’s throat.

Rapp looked around for a weapon and noticed the torch nearest him. Whoever mounted it had been ignorant of kender needs and so had set the torches too high. That left the annoyed kender with nothing more to do but keep retreating, not at all a proper course of action.

And even that course of action vanished as another of the grotesque undead came at him from behind.

“Now, this really isn’t fair!” The shadow servants, though, didn’t care about fairness. The second one reached out skeletal fingers, seeking Rapp’s topknot. The kender pulled away, wincing as a few strands of hair were torn free.

Flattening himself against the wall, Rapp again looked at the torch. A metal ring also held the torch in its niche, which meant that the odds of knocking one free with his sling were minimal. For Rapp to reach the torch, he would have had to grow another two feet.

Or …

Rapp studied the two approaching undead, trying to judge which was most suitable for his plan. While neither much appealed to him, the one to his right was positioned best. All the kender had to do was wait a second or two more … and hope his plan worked as well as it sounded to him.

One step. Another step.

His chance came at last.

The small figure suddenly charged the nearest hooded ghoul, leaping at the last moment. Caught unaware, the pale horror reacted slowly, enabling Rapp to use his adversary’s arms to climb up. As the shadow servant’s grip tightened around Rapp’s torso, the inventive kender took hold of the torch.

He gasped as thin, bony limbs tried to crush his breath from him. Rapp brought the torch down toward the drawn countenance of his foe, setting the hood on fire. The dead face revealed no shock, but the shadow servant released him and tried to put the flames out. Instead, the sleeves of his robe caught fire.

The other attacker paid little heed to his companion’s troubles, reaching again for the kender’s topknot. Rapp twisted and thrust the torch at the groping hand. The shadow servant pulled back singed fingers. Although they had some sense of self-preservation, they clearly did not feel pain, for despite the blackened appendage, the ghoul lunged forward once more.

Stepping away, Rapp nearly collided with his first adversary, who, even though his entire form was now ablaze, seemed more concerned with seizing the kender. Rapp ducked under fiery arms, then rolled past. He came up behind the burning figure and, with careful aim, kicked.

The blazing ghoul stumbled forward, falling into the arms of the other creature. Flames spread over the hands and sleeves of the second. The first tried to rise but collapsed again. This time it remained still.

With effort, the remaining ghoul abandoned the other and tried to pursue Rapp. However, the shadow servant’s steps were ragged, undirected. The hooded figure collided with one wall, then the other. Rapp used the confusion to further set the creature aflame, and in moments the second servant had turned into a fiery inferno.

Still reaching for the kender, the robed horror dropped to the floor. Flames quickly consumed what was left.

Rapp wrinkled his nose at the stench. Despite his victory, the kender felt a bit sad. These had once been men, albeit men who had died long ago. He had not killed men, only the abominations someone else had made of their corpses.

And that brought his attention back to Tyros.

A short distance down the corridor, Rapp at last came across two large doors that surely had to be the ones leading to the mage. As if to verify that, a cry from within shook the kender to his very being. He recognized Tyros’s voice and recognized also the intense agony the human suffered.

To Rapp’s surprise, the doors weren’t locked. With some caution, he pushed one open and peered inside.

The kender’s eyes widened.

Valkyn’s creation towered over Rapp, nearly touching the high ceiling of the chamber. The twin marble columns were thicker than the trunks of the mightiest trees, and upon them were etched symbols and words of magic that seemed to squirm with life of their own. Above each was positioned a huge crystal that blazed like a miniature sun.

To his surprise, Rapp discovered that he was not so fascinated by the arcane device as he was repulsed. It felt evil . Rapp had never come across anything that actually felt evil, and he would have expected such a discovery to fill him with excitement. Instead, just looking at it made the kender shiver, especially seeing what it had done to the helpless wizard chained to it.

Tyros looked haggard, his skin pale and drawn. The mage’s hair had turned partially gray. He was thinner, too, his robe hanging loose. Tyros slumped as low as his chains would allow.

The great crystals suddenly flared. Raw energy crackled between them. Tyros screamed.

A bolt of energy shot toward the ceiling, flowing through it as if the stone and wood did not exist.

The glow around the crystals subsided again. The captive mage groaned, falling forward. He looked older, more worn.

Rapp surveyed the chamber and saw that other than Tyros and himself, it was empty. The kender noted a stool near one table. Finding a place to put the torch, Rapp grabbed the stool and rushed over to the captive. Tyros looked up as he neared, and although surprise momentarily flashed in his eyes, he didn’t look at all hopeful.

“Don’t worry. I’ll set you free!”

The mage started to say something, but his words twisted suddenly into renewed screaming. The sound hurt Rapp’s ears. He couldn’t let Tyros suffer any longer. His best lockpick in hand, the kender positioned the stool, and climbed up so that he could reach the glowing manacle binding Tyros’s left wrist. The manacle looked identical to the ones that had secured Stone, which gave Rapp every confidence that he would soon have his friend released.