[CHURCH]  COMPENDIUM IV
FESTIVAL


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The morning sun was hidden behind rumbling grey clouds.  As the faithful
poured out of the church. Following morning worship, they all made their 
way toward the huge pile of wood stacked neatly along the outside of the
north wall of the church.  Each picked up a log and brought it out to the
Avenue of Triumph, to the site of this evening's 'cleansing'.  Proctor John
had announced during the services that it was the divine expectation that
all of the faithful share in the glory of the cleansing.  Each of his flock
came out and shared in the experience - man, woman and child.

One child remarked to his mother as he was carrying a small log "Momma, this
wood smells funny...and there's something sticky on it!"  His mother gave her
son a knowing look "That's just sap, punkin.  We'll wash it off you're hands
when we get home."

In less than an hour, a mountain of wood lay in the middle of the broad street.
At the top, three stakes were secured by the Inquisitors, ready for those who 
would be cleansed that evening.

Proctor John had declared a holiday.  Three of the most dangerous witches in
the area would be cleansed this night.  It was a time for happiness.  Late
in the afternoon, stands began to be setup along the Avenue.  Decorations
were hung, and a festive atmosphere soon permeated the normally dull grey
streets.  Vendors were selling food and drink, games and contests were held.
There was dancing and singing in the streets.  The festivities would culminate
with the cleansing ceremonies.  For now, the faithful forgot their everyday
troubles and celebrated along with their church.

No one noticed the few who just stood on the sides, watching everyone else
in their frolicks, taking particular note of where all the Inquisitors were 
being posted. 
--Johny Enright

The festival was in full swing when High Inquisitor Semareth and Deacon Thai
were summoned to the chambers of Proctor John.  They arrived to see the Proctor
standing out on his balcony looking out at the frolicking masses.  Without
turning around, Proctor John told them to come in and be seated.

The two church officials took their customary seats at the Proctors desk. The
Proctor kept them waiting in silence, as he watched his flock play in street
outside the church courtyard.  Without turning around, he broke the silence.

"Word has come to me of a movement against the church.  I have also heard of
the disappearance of one of our teams sent to investigate these rumours.  I
have spent some time in prayer to the Redeemer, and have been granted some 
names to pass on to you.  The first is Smith.  He is one of the leaders and
chief instigators.  I want him found.  Semareth!  I grant you full authority
in this matter.  Living or dead, I want him in my office by weeks end!  As
for the other names, well, let us see how you handle this Smith, first."

Proctor John turned, and his two assistants were surprised to see a red 'glow'
in his eyes.  The glow quickly went away, and neither was sure that they had 
actually seen it.  "I have also heard that a number of 'refugees' have been
heading here of late, as if Montfort was a safe haven from the justice of the
church!  I want you both to find out why these wretches seek succour in *my* 
domain!  They flee the domains of my brother Proctors and run here.  Semareth,
find them and bring them in for judgement. Thai, find out why they come here."

Proctor John walked over and sat behind his desk.  "For the rest of the day,
I want you both out with the faithful.  Make the church's presence felt.  We
will give them a glimmer of happiness in these dark times.  That is the true
purpose of the festival.  That, and to get them to 'relate' the evenings fun
to the cleansing of the evil ones. I want them to take joy in the cleansings."

Proctor John turned very grave.  "*Nothing* must happen to interfere with this
night's cleansing.  I want all the Inquisitors in the street, and on nearby
rooftops.  If someone tries to interfere, declare them a heretic, and terminate
them on the spot.  Thai, I trust you can balance the Inquisitor's presence
with that of your own and your staff.  Show the people how much the church
*does* care about them.  Hand out church donatives to the poor.  I think you
know what to do..."

Proctor John stood, and the Deacon and High Inquisitor followed suit.  "Go
now, and mingle with the people.  Semareth, use judgement in your treatment
of the faithful.  Try to be...friendly.  If you need help with this, I'm sure
Deacon Thai can give you a few pointers.  Smiling helps.  You will see me next
when we bring out the witches to be cleansed.  Go..."

As the two left the room, Proctor John moved back to the window and continued
to study his faithful at play.  Bugs.  Mindless bugs.  So much the better....
--Johny Enright

Wordlessly Thai caught Semareth's attention. 'Meet me in my rooms 
as soon as you can and bring your white and gold cleansing robes. You can 
change when you arrive.'

Thinking hard, Thai spun on her heel and walked briskly down the 
stairs to her rooms. "Make the church's presence felt, and make certain 
they equate the fun with the cleansing." Celestial fireworks that for a 
finale lit the pyres? Rename them Fires of the Redeemer and that should 
impress everyone but the high and mighty Baron Therion. Well, THAT one would 
have other things to think on.

Thai slammed the heavy door behind her and proceeded to strip out 
of her austere black robes, replacing them with the white and gold robes 
for the ceremony. There would be no time to change later.

Semareth knocked perfunctorily and pushed the door open as she 
was brushing out her hair. "Good. I like a man who comes when I ask. This 
"Smith" person will likely be at the cleansing. Do you know him?"
--Phaedra Whitlock

"I have heard of him through my 'sources' in the town", Semareth replied, 
sitting himself down on the corner of a bed. He was not wearing his 
cleansing robes, instead opting for his usual black cloak over blue-grey 
chainmail. His hand-and-a-half sword was still strapped at his waist. He 
is respected as much as a man of his lifestyle can be... I've never seen 
him, and from what I've heard, my men may have some difficulty catching 
him.", he sighed, and leaned back a bit. "But it is my duty, and if I must 
pull a few strings... then I must.".
--Nick Takayama

Thai flipped her hair back and continued brushing quickly. "The 
majority of the opposition will be at the ceremony as well, to disrupt it. 
It will be difficult for me to mingle and help you search them out beforehand, 
but should you need me use this." Thai picked up a green crystal from 
among the clutter on her dresser and tossed it to him. Semareth caught it 
easily and turned it over in his fingers. 

"Its a focus of sorts, attuned to me. Through it I can feel you 
and if necessary aid you." Thai put the brush down and began twisting her 
hair into shape. "

"Now, what are your plans for dealing with the rescuers..."
--Phaedra Whitlock

Frowning slightly as he flipped the crystal in his fingers (magic could 
not be trusted), Semareth glanced up at Thai. She was ravishingly 
beautiful in her cleansing robes, even his cursed eyesight couldn't ruin 
her beauty. He stood, and sraightened out his cloak. "If anyone attempts 
to rescue the prisoners, then they shall be dealt with by my Inquisitors. 
If needs be, I will fight them myself.", his hand rested lightly on the 
hilt of his sword, would his gods be with him? "Just in case however, I 
will have men in the crowd, in plain armor, with specific orders to seek 
out the suspicious.". He watched her finish twisting her hair into shape, 
his eyes unblinking.
--Nick Takayama

It was a festival out on the streets tonight, and although Semareth had 
ordered the Inquisitors to make their presence felt, the townsfolk still 
seemed to be enjoying themselves. Semareth did not. His eyes (once 
again black) scanned through the crowds of frolicking people, and noted 
those who did not smile, those who he caught watching him with 
measuring glances. He held himself aloof from all but Proctor John, 
Deacon Thai, and the Inquisitors whom he ordered around. *Not much 
good, these men* he thought, they were way too laid back and hadn't 
had much training. Never mind, they were expendable. The Church still 
held sway over the greater part of the city, allowing for a massive number 
of trainable youth literally dying to be accepted as a black and silver clad 
Inquisitor.

He strode through the crowd, passing by the three pyres which lay in 
preparation for the evening, and stopped a passing Inquisitor. 

"Arrange for a smaller bonfire to be placed here (about ten feet from the 
pyres) . And use mostly straw and twigs. I intend to have a bit of light 
here if darkness falls soon, but only to last until shortly after the bonfires 
are lit."

The man ran off to make the necessary arrangements. Though Semareth 
could see near perfectly at night, his men could not, and he had no wish 
for them to be blind lest something go wrong tonight.
He made his way over to the Proctor, and planted himself beside him.

"Proctor," he began, his smooth accent carrying over the hum-drum of the
festival, "things are being arranged. I sent a message off this morning to a 
friend, and I expect to have good news for you soon. I have taken the liberty 
of one last security precaution: should anything go wrong tonight, or should 
I signal to you, a flare-fire will be lit. Stand between it and me, and you will be 
safe from harm... I hope you do not mind me not asking your approval in this 
matter?".
--Nick Takayama

Bonedancer wandered through the crowds, trying to stay 
inconspicuous, and in general succeding.  He had managed to accumulate a 
number of purses from the crowd's richer members, and gathered a fairly 
good idea of where the inquisitors would be stationed during the 
ceremony.  Feeling rather satisfied with himself, he headed for the 
edges of the crowd, to find a good place to wait out the remainder of 
the day.

Reaching the edge of the crowd, he turned to survey the festival 
area once more, and spotted a somewhat familiar, though taller, figure 
heading directly for him (Semereth).  Deciding that discretion would be 
the wisest course, and hoping like hell that Semereth's heading was a 
coincidence, Bonedancer ducked into an alley in an attempt to avoid 
confrontation.  Unfortunately for him, luck was not with him.

Semereth entered the alley just seconds after Bonedancer did, 
and the expression on his face was almost demonic in it's intensity.  
Drawing his sword, his lips parted in a sneer, and he growled "You and I 
have a little business to finish, Stick Man."

"Wow, that's a big sword,"  Bonedancer exclaimed in amazement as 
he threw back his cloak, and two daggers appeared in his gloved hands.  
"That thing has to be bigger than I am.  I've only got these things,"  
he noted in his surprisingly pleasant baritone voice, "hardly fair don't 
you think?"
--Jeremy Farnham

Semareth scowled at Stick Man's ill humour. Didn't the -thing- know it 
was going to lose? He stepped forward into the darkness of the alley, his 
7' frame blocking out the light from outside. Still, tactically, the 
situation didn't favour him. Bonedancer could throw those knives with 
deadly accuracy, and the alleyway was too narrow for a decent swing with 
his sword (it was as big as his opponent).

Tossing his cloak back over one shoulder, he placed his sword back into 
it's scabbard. 

"OK then, Stick, is that better?", his eyes seemed to reflect light 
which wasn't there as he strode menacingly towards his prey.
--Nick Takayama

Bonedancer backed up slowly, grateful that his oppenent had 
decided to put his much to large sword away.  Unfortunately he already 
knew that the only way out of the alley was back past the giant in front 
of him.  "Just so you know,"  he said, one of his daggers leaving his 
hand almost as if it could fly, "my name is Bonedancer."  The dagger, 
which should have struck the man directly in the heart, landed in his 
left forearm which was moving to block.  Wincing slightly the man pulled it 
out, and started advancing with it, a cold and heartless grin on his 
face.  "Oh, my.  Nice reflexes.  You don't suppose we could talk this 
over could we?"  Semereth merely advanced further.  "No I thought not."  
Bonedancer said with a sigh in his voice.
--Jeremy Farnham

Grinning evilly at his cornered opponent, Semareth held up his left arm. 
The wound in it was bloodless, and already healing. He laughed, a low, 
rumbling sound which sent a chill through Bonedancer. 

"Sh'aljien," he spoke breathlessly, "looks generously upon me, it seems. 
Prepare to die, if you aren't already dead."

It would be pointless to throw the dagger back at Bonedancer, it looked 
as if it would just go straight through him. Instead, he lunged forward, 
the dagger aimed for the right eyesocket of Bonedancer's skeletal visage. 
--Nick Takayama

As Semereth lunged forward, Bonedancer dodged off to his left, 
though not fast enough for Semereth to miss him completely.  With a 
slight tug, and a large ripping noise, the hood of Bonedancer's cloak 
fell away from his face, a gaping tear causing it to flop unevenly onto 
his back.  Bonedancer retaliated with a sweeping cut to Semereth's 
abdomen.  Semereth, however, reacted far faster than Bonedancer 
anticipated, and jumped back out of the way, resulting in the dagger 
striking empty air.  

Semereth during his dodge backward, managing to put his borrowed 
dagger to good use, sliced yet another large hole in Bonedancer's shirt, 
upon which Bonedancer managed to foul himself, recovering from his 
attack.  Seeing his opportunity, the Chief inquisitor lunged forward 
again, this time successfully striking Bonedancer in the eyesocket.
--Jeremy Farnham

He felt the dagger slide home with a *chunk* as he landed on top of his 
victim. Grabbing hold of ribs, spine, and arms in his large hands, he 
lifted Bonedancer above his head, and threw him over the roofs of the 
surrounding buildings with a grunt.  
--Nick Takayama

Bonedancer landed with a thump on top of a nearby building.  
Reaching up he extracted the dagger from his eyesocket, and then rolled 
over to check the alley.  The alley was empty, but he spotted Semereth 
moving through the crowd towards the bonfires.  Taking a quick survey of 
his apparel, Bonedancer decided that discretion was the better part of 
valour, and stayed on the roof.  Realizing that he stood next to no 
chance of reaching the bonfires, much less freeing prisoners with his 
disguise in such disrepair, he set about making what repairs were 
possible to him (not many), and watched the crowd for opportunities.
--Jeremy Farnham

After she figured she had waited as long as she safely could Cari headed 
for the main street, and found that even at this early hour people were 
heading towords the Church and the Festival.

The line of people, though, was thin as of yet and Cari did not feel it 
safe to use any type of telepathy. 

Near the Church, however, there was a large mass of people who had arrived 
the night before. Cari found a shady spot near the Church wall to set up 
shop, and there she put out her small cracked bowl and pulled out her 
reed flute. She began to play a light tune to fit in with the "festive" 
mood of the crowd. While she played she occasionally sent out a light 
mindtouch at the Inquisitors  who passed and found that most were 
recruited farm lads, chosen mostly for their  brawn. She knew that many 
of them would die today, slaughtered like the innocent sheep they were, 
for a cause that they had no true understanding of. For when she touched 
their pious minds she found them seeing the Church as a truly shining 
light in their uncertain lifes. No doubts. No troubles. Nothing but 
certainty, and into that certainty she hide images of the desolation she 
had seen; the desolation and war that the Church fled from. For those 
lads that lived through this day they would find themselves cursed with
some sleepless nights as the truth surfaced in dreams.
 
She did the same to those who were camped near her, or those who dropped 
pennies in her bowl. To these good folk she grinned an idiot's grin and 
planted the horrors she had seen these last years in their psyches.
--Cathy Mosley

Deacon Thai hesitated in the shadow of the gates to the Church to scan 
the crowd with mage sight. No peasant would have any magic about them, and 
few of those friendly to the Church would either, after all. This was a 
festival.

She noted several weapons and magical disguises and shook her head.

Clouds were rolling in as well, and a glance showed them to have been 
summoned. By the looks of them, by someone far more powerful than she. 
Proctor John would have to deal with them then. When he appeared.

It occurred to her that everyone who was anyone of power and 
foolhardy nature was going to be in this square for the cleansing, and if 
Proctor John wanted them all wiped out of existence, this was a perfect 
trap for them if he could pull it off.

She smoothed her white and gold robes and dropped the minor 
shadow illusion that had hidden her. She moved into the crowd with a 
smile on her face, looking for Semareth. An old woman grabbed her arm and 
shouted praises for the Redeemer, Thai blessed the woman and moved on 
quickly. She hated being touched.

Over the tops of the rest of the crowd she spied Semareth, a full 
head taller than those around him. His distinctive aura called out to her 
and she began heading towards him. 
--Phaedra Whitlock

She did not remain too long by the wall, but picked up her bowl and moved 
her location. As she worked her way through the now enlarged crowd, 
dodging and elbowing as needed she ran hard into someone. Cari looked up 
and felt fear clutch at her breath, because before her was the white 
robes of Deacon Thai. She stared up at the Deacon with large green eyes.
--Cathy Mosley

A begger girl backed out of the crowd into her leaving a smudge 
of dirt on her pristine robes. Thai refused to scream and smiled 
pleasantly instead as the girl child realized her mistake and began to 
back away.

"No child, its all right. The Redeemer protects me from such 
things." Thai responded as gently as she could. She reached into a pouch 
and gave the child a gold coin even as the dirt and grease slid from her 
white tunic to the ground.

Cari took the coin and backed away into the crowd hurriedly, 
getting as far away as she could.

Semareth had disappeared again and Thai almost scowled.

She made her way to where she had last seen him and stood on tip 
toes looking over the crowd as best she could. He disapeared into an 
alley and she made to follow then gave up. Instead she looked around for 
the beggar child. A group of them were policing the crowds and she went 
towards them, projecting a calming influence as she did. 

On one knee she spoke to them rapidly in Thieves Cant and then 
smiled as they grinned. She quickly pointed out several of the people with 
magic weapons and disguises and outlined her offer in more detail.

The young thieves ran off to steal as many of the magical weapons 
as they could. Hugh had been nice to them that's true, but Thai knew from 
her own experiences on the streets that loyalty of their kind ran 
shallowly and to their most recent benefactor.

Thai glanced at the darkening sky and moved on.
--Phaedra Whitlock

By this time, the corpse had come next to one of the walls of the
Church.  Smith spoke the final component of the spell, and yet another
explosion ripped through Montfort, creating a small hole in the
Church's 12 foot high wall, killing a few Inquisitors, and breaking
glass in the few windows that still had glass!  Smith simply chuckled
and said "I guess that's him all over!"
--JLSmith

>From her way across the courtyard Deacon Thai had a splendid view 
of the explosion and blood flying every which way.

'What is it with these people?' she thought to herself. 'Did PJ 
bring out the destructive side of everyone in this town or ar they just 
naturally anarchists? PJs got it all wrong. These people are our best 
weapon against the elves, if we can just convince them they're blowing up 
the wrong buildings."

A simple teleport and an illusion spell, and poof!

She shook her head and summoned an illusion. Before the eyes of 
the curious bystanders, the wall seemed to rebuild itself until there was 
no trace of the explosion. Later on, after the ceremony, she would fix 
the wall. 

Right now she had other business to attend to. Proctor John was 
concerned about the refugees, so naturally so was she.
Semareth was busy with security for the ceremony and so she had 
had an idea.

Outside the Church walls she mingled with the crowds distributing 
money and performing minor miracles. It was easy to heal the lame if it 
was an illusion conjured for that purpose, but the crowd loved it. 

Eventually she found one she was looking for. A hooded elf 
skulked around the edges of the crowd thinking himself unnoticed. He was 
with his magical cloak, except that the cloak was a beacon to Thai's 
magesight. Bribing a young thief who was charmed by her appearance, Thai 
handed the boy a green crystal and directed him to the cloaked figure. 
Pretending he didn't see the elf either, the boy slipped the crystal into 
the elf's clothes as he sauntered by with sweets from a vendor.

Thai smiled and cast a dispel at the elf. The man's cloak lost 
its aura suddenly, and a passing woman shrieked as he seemed to appear 
from nowhere. She screamed and fell back with one hand pointing at the 
elf, the other covering her mouth.

The crowd heard her piercing shrieks and without needing Thai's 
guidance, a trio of burly farmhands closed on the elf.
--Phaedra Whitlock

Shooting out of the crowd, and grabbing hold of his leg, the little girl 
attached herself to Jarrad, nearly tripping him in the process.
"My brother told me I could go to you!", she cried in joy, her dirty 
round face peering up at him. "He said you would protect me from the bad 
men...", she sighed, and hugged herself closer to his leg.
She saw the puzzled look on Jarrad's face, so she explained herself, 
"Daddy said we would be safe with the Church. But he was wrong. The 
Church treated us badly, and the soldiers would sometimes hit us. But 
they are mostly gone now, they don't want anything to do with the Church 
now... they left in the middle of the night. Hmph, " she pouted "serves 
'em right if good people like you beat them in the pants!". She looked up 
at him, her chin pressed against his leg.
--Nick Takayama

Having read the young girls mind and detected no sign of tampering or
lying, Jarrad assumed that their efforsts so far were working. He had the
girl taken care of by Hugh, given food and a place to sleep until he could
contact Maeve for the refugee groups.

He was just eating breakfast when Mark and Cilande entered, laughing about
their night. Catching a few words here and there and also the images
projected, he chuckled at the inquisitors misfortune.
--Paul Khangure

"Help! They're after me!" the ice elf squeaked as he ran into the inn...
--Phaedra Whitlock

Then an unusual elf burst in the inn screaming about the mob. Jarrad heard
them approaching and knew he had to diffuse the situation.

Taking the elf's hand, Jarrad opened the doors and projected his voice to a
bellow.

"STOP" he said, the crowd instincitvely obeying and pausing. 
"Look what you have become, chasing others for no good reason."

"He's a stinkin elf" shouted someone anonymously.

"No he is not, you have been bewitched by the church, look at him closely"
Jarrad replied, then stretched his talents and projected the elf into
everyones mind, then had the picture shimmer and transform into a farmer,
looking scared.

"He is just a farmer who was against the church, and they fooled you into
thinking he was an elf. Have you no shame at chasing your fellow villagers?
Look what the church has done to you."

Letting the elf re-enter the inn, Jarrad closed the doors so the elf was
out of sight, then continued.

"You are being made a mockery of by this false religion. They take your
sons to be inquisitors, take your women to be tortured as witches. How can
you let them do this? Protest against them. In numbers you are safe, they
cannot kill everyone, only those who stand out singly. Follow me!
Down with this false church! "

As the crowd started murmurring and nodding in agreement with Jarrad's
words, Jarrad detected the approach of several of the inquisitors. Yet he
couldn't leave the crowd yet.

"Disperse now" Jarrad said in his final address.
"Disperse and remember what I have said. Think on it and be ready to act
against the church this evening. At their cleansing ceremony."

At that, the inquisitors rounded the corner, five of them lead by Semareth
himself. He had grown a little, standing over 7 foot tall, his eyes a
strange metallic colour.

As the crowd sensed the trouble and dispersed, Jarrad drew his sword and
prepared to take them on. Two of them were little more than farmers, the
other two mercenaries, but he knew he could take them. Semareth would be a
test though, an interesting test.
--Paul Khangure

As Cari left the backdoor of the inn she noticed one of the local urchins 
hiding back by a water barrel. She suspected the child was  a spy by how 
intently the boy watched the door, and she sensed fear in him - fear of 
the Church. She  gently sent the idea that the inn offered food and 
safety and he should go there. 

She decided to stay the allys for a short ways, before heading for the 
main street. "Lady and Lord," she thought, realizing what she had 
forgotten to do. "You still think with a loner's mind," she berated 
herself, realizing that she had not yet checked on the whereabouts the 
the others in the cell. And since she had set out so early she had not 
seen any of them in the common room. She stopped in a nearby alley and 
sent out a quick call to Jarrad, asking, "Is all the same?"
--Cathy Mosley

Jarrad used his telepathic skills to create an illusion of him darting 
off to one side, distracting the 4 inquisitiors with Semareth.

Semareth was not fooled whoever, but Jarrad had other things to do, so 
he strode off leaving Semarateh watching him with his speckled metallic eyes.

Answering Cari Jarrad sent "Yes, we have been having a little fun over  
night, but the real thing starts today. Lets do it."

Heading to the festival, Jarrad noted who was also taking out the various 
inquisitors, then as the distractions started, he picked an inquisitor 
his size and made him strip, leaving his uniform and run of through he 
crowd.
--Paul Khangure

As the afternoon wanned, Mark decided it was time to head 
towards the Festival and implement their psi-warfare plan. He 
had no idea if it would have any effect, but at least he'd be 
doing something.

He looked for Cilande to see if she wanted to join him or if 
she wanted to make her way to the Festival alone.

Kissing Sonterey goodbye, he left the Inn by the front door 
and headed in the opposite direction of the square. 
Meandering through the streets, he let himself be drawn by 
the noise. 

He hadn't heard from Jarrad and Cari, so tried a mental call. 
"Cari, shall we meet by the south-west corner of the 
square? Jarrad, how would you like to coordinate this? 
Cilande, can you hear these thoughts?"

He continued towards the square as he awaited their answers.
--Pam Curry

 Iosono waves down Twilight, who shifts back to war-bird form.  Iosono 
vaults into the saddle on his back and offers his hand to Dryctor.

"Shall we return to Montfort?"
--Lord Billy Yee

"This will be a novel experiance!" Dryctor takes Iosono's hand and 
mounts behind him. "Not unlike riding Halkior My pet Griffon back home"
--Barron C. Featherston

"Griffons, eh?" Iosono mused outloud.  "Mighty fine mounts indeed, except 
when you also happen to keep horses around as steeds!"

Iosono gripped onto the saddle loop with his hands.

"Back to Montfort, my brother!" he shouted.  And in a blink of an
eye they were airborne.

Iosono had Twilight land at the outskirts of town towards the east and
away from the setting sun.

"Dryctor, we should walk in from here and not draw too much attention
to ourselves.

And with that Iosono proceeded to the "Cleansings."
--Lord Billy Yee

Once again at the festival, Iosono turned to Dryctor.

"We should split up to survey the area."  

Iosono scanned the twilight enshrouded area and spotted the perfect
hiding place and vantage point.

"I will be on top of that roof, " Iosono nonchalantly pointed out.

"Stay sharp!" Iosono whispered as he once again disappeared.

"I'll meet you back at the inn..." a message came whispering in the 
passing wind.
--Lord Billy Yee

The meeting the night before had given Lorendil hope that the evil
that was gripping this part of Ifreann would not go unchallenged.  He
was convinced that ultimately the Dark One was behind all the commotion,
and if the locals could oppose Proctor John, then other forces could
oppose the Dark One himself.  But that did not resolve the issue of the
rescue of the Strong One and those who were taken with him.

As he sat in the common room of the Inn, he resolved that he would
press Niari to make a rescue attempt.  It had been mentioned in the
meeting the night before that there was going to be a cleansing that
evening.  Lorendil could only assume that that would be the prisoners. 
There would be little time to formulate a plan, and he was not the
person who was particularly skilled in devising them, but it seemed that
the best opportunity might be during the ceremony.  He would have to
discuss the matter with the Quiet One and Niari when they arrived.

"Speaking of Niari," he commented to himself, "she seems awfully
fond of the ale that Hugh stocked."  He motioned to Sera, and asked that
she bring a pitcher of the liquor to the table.  Before it arrived,
Vengar walked in the door.  After looking about the room, he finally
found Lorendil and proceeded towards him.

Sera and Vengar arrived at the table at the same time.  Lorendil
pushed the pitcher aside (he didn't care for such a coarse drink, and
didn't feel much in the mood for anything, anyway), and greeted Vengar. 
"Welcome back, Quiet One!  What news have you to bring from the night?"

Vengar then began to tell Lorendil of the events the previous
night, about the vigil at the church, the cleansing of an elf, of his
euthenasia by an elven bowman (bowwoman, actually), and of his contact
with Therion.  Lorendil then told Vengar about the meeting the previous
night, and the apparent ceremony that evening that was likely to be the
execution of the Strong One and the two elves.  Vengar acknowledged
seeing a large pile of wood in the compound, ominously shrouded in mist.

Vengar began to conceive a plan.  He agreed with Lorendil that the
ceremony was the best time to stage a rescue...the fortifications of the
church were far too formidable to facilitate a raid.  The commandos
would be lost in the corridors far before they could prevent the guards
from slashing the prisoners throats.  No, it was definitely better to
wait until the Inquisitors themselves brought the "witches" out into the
open.  He would confer with Niari about the best way, then, to force
themselves in between the Inquisitors and the prisoners.

Lorendil and Vengar spent the rest of the morning talking idly
about items of little importance.  Lorendil longingly glanced to the
fireplace of the Inn, which lay cold and empty, the fire that was
normally there remaining unlit.  He knew that it would be a long time
before he could again enjoy the pleasure of sitting in the common room
and listening to the boisterous tales of the Inn's regulars and
newcomers.  If he ever got the chance to enjoy that again at all.

The two waited anxiously and nervously for Niari to return.
---Michael Dew

Kiha cantered easily under Niari.  She was getting to like this
horse more and more.  As Montfort came into view, she glanced over at
Essaut and smiled.

"Here we are, my friend.  I told Lord Lorendil that we would meet
at an Inn.  I would like you to come inside and meet him."

A grin spread across Essaut's dark face.  "Ngai, s'Ora!  I look
forward to meeting this man...he is a man, is he not?"  The plains
warrior winked one sparkling eye at Niari and enjoyed the fact that her
eyes had narrowed in a show of annoyment.

"You know well enough that I didn't know it was a k'Tsi, Essaut! 
Their minds are very closed and their energy is highly ambiguous..."

"Yes, s'Ora!" cried a laughing Essaut, who now had tears streaking
down his dusty cheeks, "And how could you know that the handsome
stranger would turn into a cat and try to eat me when we were alone?" 
Essaut was now shaking with mirth.  It was so very easy for Niari to
push him off his horse.

Niari caught a momentary look of shock as he lost balance and then
the woman turned in her saddle and urged Kiha into a gallop towards the
town.  It was only moments before Essaut had jumped back on his steed
and caught up to her that she reached the first building.  He reached
out and hit her shouler pauldron with the tips of his fingers and cried,
"Nas't'hu, s'Ora!" to which Niari pulled up her horse and turned to face
her friend.

"I still won, Essaut." said Niari, chuckling in this rare moment of
frivolity. The plains warrior was a prankster and the best way to keep
him happy was to play on this characteristic once in a while.

They turned and walked their steeds into Montfort.  The town was
terribly noisy and as they approached the center, a small group of
children ran by them laughing and screaming in mock terror.  There were
people everywhere!  A look of confusion flashed over Niari's face and
she cast a sidelong glance at her companion as if to say, "This is not
normal."  They walked through the throng of people, some of whom were
already drunk.  Some were carrying sticks to a gigantic pile of wood
which had been stacked in the square.  There were three posts standing
securely at the top of the pyre.  Now Niari became grim and turned Kiha
back towards the Dragon's Inn.  Essaut followed, an oddly masked look on
his face.

They tied their horses at the post outside the Inn and entered. 
Lorendil was waiting at a table in the corner near a cold fireplace.  He
smiled and stood as Niari and her companion approached but there was a
badly hidden blanket of anxiety covering him.  Niari noticed that there
was a pitcher of ale and several empty mugs on the table waiting for
her...
---Kara Marzhan

Lorendil was relieved to see Niari return, as there had been much
that had transpired.  He greeted her warmly, and then cast his eyes to
her companion.

Seeing him looking aside, Niari introduced the two.  "Lord
Lorendil, this is Essaut, leader of the n'Sete warriors I have brought." 
Essaut met Lorendil's gaze, but did nothing.

"You are most welcome, Essaut," Lorendil answered.  Then, motioning
to Vengar, he reciprocated, "This is Sir Vengar, a trusted friend of
Baron Therion."  Vengar stood and nodded to the newcomers in greeting.

"Where is the Baron?" asked Niari, as she scanned across the room
in hopes of finding her employer.

"That, my dear Niari, is a long story.  Please, be seated."  Once
everyone had taken their seats, Lorendil poured the ale for everyone
(Vengar politely refused, and asked Sera to bring him a cup of water). 
After taking a sip (just a sip!), Lorendil began to relate the past
couple of days' activities to Niari and Essaut.  He described the battle
outside the Inn, Therion's arrest for witchcraft, and the meeting that
had occurred the night previous.  He stressed that there was no apparent
basis for the charges against him or the others who were taken prisoner
that night, and that there was a ceremony scheduled for that night that
was likely to be the execution of the threesome.  He also mentioned that
Vengar had taken the opportunity to scout out the church, and was fairly
certain that the Baron was still alive.

The discussion was quite long, and as Niari asked questions,
Lorendil and Vengar tried their best to answer them.  Some of the
information she requested was simply unknown.  Throughout, Essaut
remained quiet.  Vengar then began to add his analysis of a likely
rescue plan, and he and Niari bantered back and forth debating various
details.  When the conversation finally waned, everyone at the table sat
back in quiet and solemn contemplation.

After a moment, Vengar spoke.  "It is getting late, and we are
running out of time.  If we are to act, we must act now.  Let us prepare
for the rescue!  I must leave now if I am to be in position.  I shall
see you at the cleansing!"  Vengar rose to his feet and left the Inn.

Lorendil turned to Niari and asked, "Shall we assemble the troops?" 

A smile danced across his face.  He was obviously happy now that it
seemed that they would be able to save the Baron.
---Michael Dew

Niari returned the smile and answered, "Aye, my Lord Lorendil.  The
n'Sete are resting at a cove an hour South of Montfort.  I thought it
best to conceal them since they are obviously outsiders..."

Her eyes lit up.  "I have an idea.  You and I will leave the Inn
separately to avoid suspicion.  I will go into market and buy a cart
from one of the sympathizers you mentioned.  I will arrange to have the
cart filled with Montfort peasant clothing.  I will disguse myself and
ride out to the n'Sete.  Essaut and you can ride North and then circle
around Montfort.   He can take you to the cove.  I will meet you there
and then we can all re-enter Montfort as peasant farmers from the area
wishing to participate in the festivities.  The n'Sete have no special
powers and will not be sensed by any of the Proctor's scouts.  They
should mingle in with the crowd perfectly.."  Niari hesitated in case
Lorendil had anything to add...
---Kara Marzhan

His face briefly clouded over.  "I fear, m'lady, that my direct
presence may be more of a hinderance than a help, for reasons that will
take too much time to explain, a commodity I fear we have precious
little of.  And while such a plan of deception in itself appears sound,
I wonder if time will be on our side.  If you can execute this plan,
then I say do so.  But I fear that we may be pressed as it is, and it
may be all we can do to bring the remainder in time to save the Baron
and his co-prisoners.  Vengar is already at the scene, and there may be
others judging from the meeting, but surely the proctor's forces are
strong.  Make haste, Niari.  I will be nearby."  Lorendil smiled gently,
and stood, signifying that the conversation was at an end and that
action was now the course to be taken.

Niari was not comfortable with the apparent role that Lorendil was
going to take in the rescue, namely the lack of one.  It did not sit
well with her.  But this was not the time for arguments, and the matter
would have to be resolved another time.  Eventually, she also stood, and
bidding Lorendil goodbye, left the Inn.  Shortly thereafter, Lorendil
did the same.
---Michael Dew

Finding Aleck was easy.  He had a large shop where he made the
carts and wagons for Montfort.  Niari had but to mention Hugh's name and
the cartwright took her upstairs where they could speak together
undisturbed.

Half an hour later, an old weaver woman came to collect her cart. 
Aleck was kind enough to have had her bolts of cloth already packed in
the new cart.  Her horses were hitched up and she was on her way.  As
she rode out of the shop, Aleck called, "It's a shame you will miss the
festival!"

She responded in a voice, dry and cracked with age, "Aye, but I'm
sure you will have enough fun without me."  Then she rode south out of
Montfort and to her rendezvous with the n'Sete.
---Kara Marzhan

Once Vengar had left, he quickly made his way to the center of
town.  He was careful to take streets and alleys that were not well
traveled, and this made the trip considerably longer than the direct
route.  Still, it was necessary.

Vengar had already located the building he wanted when he had been
maintaining his vigil.  Finding it, he searched the sides for an
entryway.  Looking about to see if there were any church officials
about, Vengar waited for the coast to clear.  When it was, he casually
slipped inside.

The building seemed deserted, and that was good.  Most likely
everyone was outside at the cleansing.  It did not take long to find the
stairs leading to the upper floors, and Vengar bounded up them like a
rabbit, quickly and silently.  Finally arriving at the third floor,
Vengar made his way to the patio that he had spotted the night before. 
Opening the door, he saw that the patio was already occupied!

He was just beginning to close the door when the Inquisitor noticed
him and shouted, "This building is off-limits!  If you want to watch the
cleansing, you'll have to do it from the street!"

Vengar played dumb.  "Oh!  I-I'm sorry!  I just wanted to get a
better look!"  He slowly closed the door, waited a moment, and then
hollered, "Oww!  Oh, ow!"

The Inquisitor did not seem to go for the bait, so he continued to
utter the sounds of agony, letting the guard know that he wasn't
leaving.

It finally paid off.  The Inquisitor came to the door and yelled
inside, "What's the matter with ye?"

"I've twisted my leg!  Good sir, could you help me down the
stairs?"

"Arrgh...the Proctor won't like it, but as long as it's quick!"  He
entered.

He didn't hear the silent "whoosh" of air as Vengar swung his sword
full around at the man.  There was a loud "SMACK!" as the flat of the
blade caught the Inquisitor square in the face.  Readying his weapon in
case there was a fight, Vengar watched as his adversary slumped to the
floor, knocked cold from the impact.

A few moments later, the Inquisitor casually returned to the third
floor patio.  No one could notice that he appeared to be just a few
inches shorter than he had a few moments ago.  There was no reason to
suspect that anything out of the ordinary had happened.  Vengar slowly
glanced about the square, noticing the locations of the other
Inquisitors perched on rooftops about the area.  He also guaged the
ground scene, observing that he was about thirty feet from the pyres. 
He waited patiently, patrolling as the other Inquisitors did, while the
real Inquisitor lay just inside the door, spilling his blood from the
dagger slash to his neck.  His bow hugged to his chest under his newly-
aquired robes, Vengar waited.
---Michael Dew

Therion was duly informed that his old friend, Mark Alessio...a man 
in his sixties with a wry sense of humor, who owned a small bakery in 
Chadwick...had been arrested, and was being tortured.  Mark, who had 
often opposed Therion over a chess board, and who had won more than his 
share of games!  The same Mark who had always been there when Therion 
needed a friend to confide in.  And, trapped as he was...he could do 
nothing;  truly, death would be a release from this hell.  Still, 
Therion was not finally trapped;  for his magic depended not on power, 
but rather on the quiet redirection of forces.

Therion decided to act according to the role his captors had 
envisioned.  He fainted, and lay quite unconscious upon the floor of the 
cell. The guards soon tired of the game, for Therion's body remained 
immobile even as some of the countless insects within the dank room 
crawled over him.  Surely, he must be unconscious, a weak-spined fop of 
the upper crust, unable to endure adversity!  The guards laughed, then 
departed, for they certainly saw no reason to call aid for this 
miserable warlock!

While his body was deeply asleep, his mind was active and alert.  
Between Elana's effects and the shackles, he had little power;  yet, 
there were some things that required little effort, but might produce a 
great effect.  Therion focused on Eldarion, and touched his mind.  He 
tightened the focus, and deepened his awareness, so that he heard and 
saw that which the elf sensed.  Normally, he could have easily wrested 
control of the elf's body from the other's mind, but he had not the 
strength.  It did not matter, for Therion could do something far more 
effective...he could help Eldarion to remember.  And, as Proctor John, 
Thai, and all their cruel minions tried to bend Eldarion's will to their 
cause, the elf remembered...remembered the arrest...the burning of the 
scout...the freedom, now threatened, of Tynntangial...

In the cell, Therion's body began to cool...
---Dave Womack

Elana was quite worried.  Her brother had been taken out of the 
cell, and now the gentleman who had tried so hard to help her lay on the 
floor, looking for all the world, dead!

She had already gone over to try to help him once, but he'd felt so 
cold.  She thought that the best thing that she could do for him was to 
stay as far away as possible, lest her null drain some spell he was 
attempting.  But the longer she sat in the far corner of the cell, the 
more afraid for Therion she became.

She looked down at the manacles clasped at her wrists.  The anti-
magic part of her manacles was itself cancelled out by her null.  But 
the physical steel locks, well...if only Zeph were here.  Much as she 
hated admitting it, her cousin's "talent" for thievery would be most 
welcome right now.

Eldarion was taken up the stairs for a "meeting" with this Deacon 
Thai.  He didn't know why *_he_* had been selected for this special 
treatment, but he was glad that he was not alone.  Somehow, Therion had 
managed to join him in his head.  Normally, Eldarion did not understand 
mind magic, and was glad his sword usually protected him from such (at a 
cost), but for now, he welcomed his new friend's presence 
wholeheartedly.

"Trust in me, and everything will be all right," Therion thought to 
Eldarion.

Eldarion shuddered a bit, still not used to this mind-speak Therion 
was using.  Still, as a soldier, Eldarion thought of the value such a 
thing would have in battle.  He would have to speak to Therion about it 
later.  As he was thinking this, he also wondered, since Therion was 
currently present in his mind, did he (Therion) know what he was 
currently thinking about, thus negating the need to talk to him in the 
future?

Therion managed to enter Eldarion's mind.  What he found there was 
odd.  What seemed like a wall, blocking something off, was in place.  
The strange thing was there wasn't anything being blocked.  The 
*_other_* strange thing was what could only be explained as a 
"connection" to something.  Something or someone had established a 
permanent mental bond with Eldarion.  Things kept getting stranger.

The guards led him up the stairs and down a hall.  Eldarion found 
it hard to concentrate on anything with Therion's presence also in his 
mind.  He was not sure what Therion had in store for the Deacon, but he 
*_did_* know he had a surprise or two of his own.  While still in the 
cell, Elana had drained the manacles placed on the three of arcane 
energy again.  They were still securely restrained, but now that he was 
away from his sister, he knew his meager arsenal of spells were ready to 
go.  If he had to, he could use his forcebolts to shatter the locks on 
the manacles (he would have to be very careful to try to limit the 
amount of damage he would do to his own wrists).

The group stopped in front of an ornately carved door.  One of the 
guards knocked.  "Deacon Thai, we have the warlock prisoner you wanted," 
he called through the door.

The door opened and Eldarion again saw the woman who had so 
intrigued him earlier in his cell.  This time she was dressed in soft, 
flowing robes of gold and white.  She was very beautiful, in a dark sort 
of way.  Beautiful and dangerous, just like Joreen.  Joreen.  As a 
matter of fact, this Deacon looked *_very_* much like the female 
Legentor.  The raven hair, the deep, twin pools of her eyes, even her 
slender pointed elven ears, she was like nothing...

"ELDARION!!  This woman is *_not_* of elven kind!  She is not this 
Joreen who is so prevelant in your mind!  Close your eyes again, hold 
for a moment, then open them and see her as she truely is."

Eldarion did as he was told, and when he opened his eyes again, the 
elven features which had begun to seem to be a part of Deacon Thai were 
gone.  She *_was_* beautiful, but not the type of natural, elven beauty 
that Eldarion favoured.

Her face changed from a look of welcome, to a look of fury.  Her 
hands began to glow with a greenish light, and she made a movement with 
them.  Eldarion was lifted from his feet by unseen hands gripping his 
throat.  As he was struggling in the air, he was about to unleash his 
own forcebolts at the now smiling Deacon, when a voice called out from 
down the hall.  "THAI, RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!"

Eldarion fell to the polished marble floors with a thump.  He 
looked up and saw that Deacon Thai had her full attention at the 
similarly robed man coming towards them.  Eldarion recognized him from 
the night that this church had come to the inn to arrest his sister.

"You would rob the Redeemer from a chance to forgive this elf for 
his crimes?  I do *_not_* think this is in the interests of the church.  
It is time.  His cleansing time is come."  Turning to the guards, the 
man ordered them to take the prisoner to the courtyard, where his 
companions would soon be joining him for their final journey of this 
world...to the Cleansing!

The man turned back to Thai, who immediately apologized to him, 
asking the Proctor for his forgiveness.  Proctor?!  *_This_* was the one 
man who was fully responsible for all the ills they had suffered in the 
last couple of days.  Without a second thought, Eldarion raised his 
hands.  "PROCTOR!!!"

Proctor John turned, and was struck full in the chest by forcebolt 
after forcebolt.  As each of the purple bolts struck him, he staggered 
backward until he fell in a heap on the floor.  Deacon Thai raised her 
hand, and Eldarion was propelled into a marble wall, where he stayed 
pinned.

Though he knew he would soon be killed, Eldarion smiled in 
satisfaction that he had taken out the leader of this evil church.  His 
smile turned to a look of awe as Proctor John picked himself up.  Though 
his robes were blackened and shreaded, the skin underneath looked 
untouched.  Proctor John calmly walked over to the struggling Eldarion 
and placed his cold hand on Eldarion's face.  In grey-elven, he said "A 
most valiant effort, Elessidel.  Now I must go to change my robes, and 
you..."  Proctor John smiled wickedly, "...You, go now to meet your 
ancestors.  I may as well tell you, you will *_not_* be alone for long.  
Tynntangial is finished.  The elven army will soon fall to our might, 
and with it gone, so shall follow the rest of Ifreann!"

Proctor John could see Eldarion's baffled look, so for the briefest 
of moments, and only to Eldarion, he let his image revert to its true 
form.  Eldarion saw Proctor John as the lord of the Darkguard that he 
was.  He screamed in rage and fury as he was led away, out to the 
courtyards, to meet his fate.
---Johny Enright

Therion felt the power released by Thai, as Eldarion's body was 
pinned to the wall...he saw Proctor John's transformation, and heard the 
violent promise to take all of Ifreann.  If only he could reveal Proctor 
John's true form to the rest of the people!

As Eldarion was led to the fires, Therion brought his focus back to 
his own body.  He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, as he began 
shivering.  The absence of his mind from his own body, coupled with the 
drain of his magic, had brought him very close to the point of no 
return.  Looking toward Elana, Therion said, "It won't be long now.  We 
must prepare ourselves."

Soon, the guards entered the cell, and roughly took their prisoners 
to the Cleansing.  Despite the conditions, Therion did his best to 
maintain some degree of dignity...
---Dave Womack