[CHURCH]  COMPENDIUM V  [Sept 1995]
THE CLEANSING OF THE WITCHES, PART I


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Proctor John took one more look at his robes, then placed a glamour of charm 
upon himself.  He smiled broadly, then nodded to the gate guard.  The gates
to the church were thrown open, and the procession began.  First a squad of
Inquisitors led the way, in full plate armour.  Then came the three prisoners,
dressed in the same clothing as when they were taken, signifying that these
witches refused confession and the redemption of the church.  Following the
prisoners came another squad of Inquisitors, drawing a huge stand on wheels,
upon which stood Proctor John in all his glory.

The crowd roared as the prisoners were led out.  Rotting vegetables were once
again flung at the prisoners.  The roar of the crowd reached a crescendo when
they saw the Proctor come out.  Here was their savior.  Here was the man who 
would protect them all from the evils of the world.

The shouting died down as Proctor John held up his hands.  "My faithful!  I
trust you have enjoyed the festival thus far?" He smiled down at his vast 
flock.

The crowd once again roared to life, as they displayed their approval of the
festival.  After a few moments, they quieted down again.  Proctor John 
continued "We have gathered today for the cleansing of these unfortunate
wretches.  Unfortunately for their souls, they have refused confession and
the forgiveness of the Holy Church.  They have chosen instead to shun the
divine forgiveness of the Redeemer.  They will soon join whatever demons
and devils they have made pacts with.  If we cannot cleanse their souls, then
we will have to make do in cleansing their physical forms from our presence!"

The crowd roared its approval, as the prisoners were led up the rollaway steps,
and tied to three stakes on top of the huge pile of wood. The female witch was 
tied to the middle stake, with the warlocks on either side of her.

The crowd died down again, and all eyes turned to Proctor John.  "May the
Redeemer have mercy on your souls!"  He called out to the prisoners.  One
of the warlocks spat in the Proctor's direction, and was rewarded with a 
tomatoe striking him in the face.  Proctor John nodded to the Inquisitors
ringing the pile holding torches and they all threw their torches on to the 
wood.

The hushed crowd watched as the torches landed on the huge pile.  The pile of
wood did *not* catch fire, however.  It was as if the torches had been thrown
on to a pile of rocks instead of the dry wood of the pile.

It was at that precise moment that all hell broke loose at the festival.
--J Enright

Suddenly there was shouting from the crowd, as several of the
nearby Inquisitors were felled from above by arrows.  Eldarion heard the
familiar voice of his friend Dardt, as the pocket dragon suddenly
appeared and began tearing at his bonds with claw and fang.

Another arrow sped across from rooftop to rooftop, and another
Inquisitor fell to the streets below, an arrow through her throat.

Joreen readied another arrow, and let fly as a barrage of return
fire came from the other rooftops.  Joreen moved to another vantage
point and looked down to the streets.  She immediately let fly and
downed an Inquisitor who was taking aim at a running Zeph.  Dardt had
already reached Eldarion, and was fiercely ripping at the cords which
held him tied to a stake.  Joreen had to quickly duck again as another
flight of arrows headed her way.

Though she had already been grazed twice by return fire, Joreen
kept the arrows coming.  She was down to half a quiver, and she had the
full attention of the church archers placed on the rooftops around her. 
Things were going exactly as she'd planned.
---Johny Enright

Vengar was completely flabbergasted at the recent turn of events. 
A young girl was suddenly brandishing a sword of obviously incredible
power, a tiny replica of a dragon was flying towards the three
prisoners, and there was bowfire strafing the scene from somewhere off
to his right.  A fight that he expected would belong to him and his
friends was suddenly being shared by what appeared to be quite a host!

As he shook the shock from his mind, Vengar quickly guaged the
situation.  The bowman on the rooftop had successfully drawn the full
attention of the other Inquisitors on the other buildings, but the
ground troops were beginning to react, and the young girl didn't seem to
have any allies at the moment.

Vengar wasted no time in joining the fray.  He cast off his robes
and readied his bow in one, smooth motion.  Nocking three arrows on the
bowstring between his knuckles, he quickly aimed at the lead troop of
Inquisitors and let loose.  The middle arrow landed square in the face
of one, and he went down dead.  The right planted itself in the arm of
one, and the left deflected harmlessly off of another's armor.  Not a
significant effect, except to grab their attention.  Vengar let loose a
second volley, with similar effects.  He realized he didn't have enough
arrows to finish the job in this fashion, though he continued to rain
what he could towards the ground.  It would soon be time for more
personal means.
--Michael Dew

Striding out of the alleyway in which he had been fighting Bonedancer, 
Semareth found himself just in time for the ceremony's climax.

He watched with metallic blue-grey eyes as the torches landed 
ineffectually on the pyres, and all hell broke loose.

Sh'aljien spoke to him, *ANOTHER WILL DEAL WITH THIS, CLEAR THE PATH*
It no longer hurt to have a god's voice in his head, it had become a 
priviledge again.

Semareth grinned, he knew what clearing a path involved.

Straightening himself up to his full 7 feet, he unsheathed his sword 
which shined the same colour as his eyes, and began weeding out the 
opposition.

He lost count of the number of minor cuts he suffered, but he counted at 
least 8 arrows piercing his body before he located the archer atop a 
nearby building. She could wait, he thought, and left the arrows to jut 
from his body like spikes on some demon as he raged through the crowd.
--Nick Takayama

The crowd surrounding the young half-elf retreated with a cry 
of panic and pointed her way. 
	"Sorcery!" someone screamed.
	"Dragon!" another shrieked.
	"Witch!" yet another screeched.
In response, Zeph shed her overcoat in dramatic fashion, 
revealing the powerful weapon once hidden. Wielding the sword with 
a savage war cry she successfully divided the sea of a once 
cheering audience. Several Inquisitors took after her, others at a 
distance, took aim.

A grey streaking flash flew above the frightened crowd towards 
the wood pile. His mission clear in his mind. Tear loose the binds 
that shackled his master to the stake before the flames took. The 
rest would be up to Eldarion.
--Dave Smart

As Zeph ran through the crowd and Dardt flew to rescue her master, 
the dark clouds of the storm became even darker.  What was high noon, now 
looked as dark as twilight.  The gathered crowd grew more and more uneasy.

The crowd grew paniced as they saw Zeph running threw with sword 
out and a group of inquisiters following.  Several others dropped where 
they stood with arrows protruding from them.  The crowd began to frenzy.  
Some started running this way some that.  Everyway you turned, it seemed 
that you were running against the crowd.  Cries of "Witch" were heard 
everywhere along with the cries of death as people started to get crushed 
in the gathered crowd.

High upon the spires of the church, Jericho watched and waited.  
He knew how to organize the ensuing chaos below.  Give them a target.  
Now all he had to do was wait til Eldarion and his friends we freed from 
the stakes.
--Michael Fairbanks

Garrison's protective shield had hidden the sword of Xeen
successfully as it had done before when Eldarion was first
captured, but now it was time to show the enemy its' wrath.

 From her wailing and the ensuing panic a thin corridor had
opened between Zeph and her bonded friends. With sword in hand, she
wasted no time and rushed forward. 

Joreen and other church antagonists were there providing
cover. It helped, but it did not put an end to all of the
opposition and obstacles facing the young girl.

Moving with speed and agility matched only by a panther, she
made her way towards the prisoners. Just missing her darting legs,
a rivet of bolts landed, one puncturing a civilian who was at the
wrong place at the wrong time. Zeph did not take the time to feel
sorry for the unlucky one. Besides, they were all there to watch
her loved ones fry. Another member of the crowd tried to nab her as
she ran. She evaded him smoothly like a crazed athlete determined
to make the end zone (Emett Smith (?)).

Within seconds she had made the crest of the wood pile. The
flames were beginning to take. If there was a time that her aim
would have to be true it was now. Grabbing the blade with her
gloved hand she tossed Xeen into the air, pommel first, towards her
now freed cousin...
--Dave Smart

Eldarion had scrutinized his surroundings since being tied to the stake.  His
military eye definately picked out the tell-tale signs that his friends, and
those amicable to his cause, were out amongst the crowd.  He even heard a bird
call signal used by the Legentors coming from a nearby rooftop.

Proctor John had just told them he wished them the Redeemer's mercy.  Eldarion
couldn't help himself.  He spat out in the Proctor's direction, and was 
immediately pummeled with more rotting vegetables.

A signal was given, and torches were thrown onto the pyre, with no effect.

Suddenly there was shouting from the crowd, as several of the nearby Inquisi-
tors were felled from above by arrows.  Eldarion heard the familiar voice of
his friend Dardt, as the pocket dragon suddenly appeared and began tearing at
his bonds with claw and fang.

Soon Eldarion was free!  At that precise moment he spied a spinning
blade coming towards him.  He reached out and snatched the sword of Xeen
from the air.  He saw that it was his cousin who had flung the blade. 
She gave him a quick smile, then disappeared into the crowd, under the
pursuit of several of the church Inquisitors.

Eldarion quickly cut the bonds of his sister and Baron Therion.  To
his sister he yelled, "Stay with him!", and pointed to Therion. 
Trusting the Baron to keep his sister as safe as the situation allowed,
Eldarion turned and saw his prey.  There, standing on a nearby stand
with an incredulous look on his face, was Proctor John.
---Johny Enright

Free!  Hungry, dirty, bruised and odiferous from being pelted with
rotten food and the occassional rock, Therion could not resist a grim
smile!  Eldarion, Elana and he at least had a chance, now...and he could
feel Vengar's presence.

Around him, Therion could feel the mounting panic in the town, as
the population dissolved into a mindless mob seeking escape and finding
only greater terror.  He got considerable satisfaction from seeing the
majority of the Inquisitors joining the panic...there was, however, one
small luxury he decided to permit himself.

Seeing Proctor John, Therion reached out with his mind, and touched
the Proctor...then twisted.  With any luck, the creature that was called
John would be sufficiently distracted so that it's disguise would falter
for a time!

Alas, there was no time to gloat...Therion joined the escape with
unbridled enthusiasm!
---Dave Womack

Chaos broke loose and the Deacon moved forward to aid her Proctor. Cari 
watched the crowd turn into a panicked herd. All of her years of built-up 
anger and the pain of loss flared to the surface, and she prepared to 
attack the Deacon with a mindblast. 

The mob surged between them and Cari saw that around her those too young 
or too old to move quickly were being shoved aside or fell, and Cari 
knew that she could not let this mindless chaos kill more innocents. 
That was the mark of the Dark hordes that swarmed across the land; 
the war she had fled ahead of. She went forward and took the arm of 
an old granny and began to guide those people she could to
the allys and back streets that would lead them to safety.
--Cathy Mosley

Kristov's best course of action was to see to the prisoners' freedom
and let the evil come to him.  He strode purposely through the battle,
knocking innocent Inquistors out of the way, until he stood before the
pyres.  At least one of the prisoners had been freed already, and was
holding a blazing sword, but what of the others?  Kristov moved closer
to see.

As Kristov moved closer, he saw that the others were free and making 
their escape.  However, the elf with the sword was standing his
ground.  The desert warrior fought his way toward him.
--David Wendt

In a matter of seconds, the prisoners had been freed, a brilliant
sword was thrown at one of the freed men, and then fire bolts seemed to
shoot from the sky itself!  Niari whirled around to locate her troops
and realized that she only had six of them in view.  Her hand flew up in
a whipping gesture and the six instantly began making use of the
confusion to disarm those in the crowd who they had marked as church
sympathizers.  Their actions were picked up on by other n'Sete and soon
the crowd really did consist of just innocent bystanders!  Those who the
n'Sete marked as Inquisitors instantly had their throats slit.  Those
who were just Followers of the Redeemer were hamstrung and their weapons
taken...

Niari was among the first to take an Inquisitor.  She was soft and
died quickly, the blood gurgling from her throat.  Niari gazed
impassively at the crowd to ensure that none but harmless peasants were
nearby before making her way for the pyre and Lord Therion.  She would
save her employer herself if need be.  She waved for four of the n'Sete
to follow her and rushed towards the mountain of wood, her peasant robes
rippling over her half-concealed armor...
---Kara Marzhan

Therion had already led Elana off the pyre and into a quickly
scattering crowd.  With the flames starting to finally ignite the wood,
Eldarion stood with his hand pointed at Proctor John. "You were a fool
to show me who you really are!  I'm coming for you, you strahka! 
Tonight it is you who will be cleansed...in the hell of my sword!"

Eldarion took a running leap and flipped over the railing around
the Proctor's stand.  With a quick move, Eldarion stabbed the sword of
Xeen through the Proctor's chest.  Yet as quickly as the sword had slid
through the Proctor's robe, the Proctor himself was no longer in them. 
The sword of Xeen now merely held skewered his discarded robes.  He was
nowhere to be seen.

Eldarion took a running leap and flipped over the railing around the Proctor's
stand.  With a quick move, Eldarion stabbed the sword of Xeen through the
Proctor's chest.  Yet as quickly as the sword had slid through the Proctor's 
robe, the Proctor himself was no longer in them.  The sword of Xeen now merely
held skewered his discarded robes.  He was no where to be seen.
--Johny Enright

A force of Inquisitors jostled Thai as they ran to 
engage the enemy, and she saw their numbers cut down by the bow of a 
sharpshooter on a nearby roof.

Hurriedly Thai erected a missile screen over the crowd, but the 
damage had been done. Knots of fighters were cutting down Inquisitors 
and she leveled a palm at them, shooting out waves of concussive force 
in their direction.

Fiery missiles shot from her outstreched fingertips as she backed 
away from the fight to the safety of the compound wall.

A trio of roughly dressed men appeared beside her and charged 
into searing flames that ignited their disguises. "May the Redeemer cleanse 
you." she added vindictively for good measure, and kicked the nearest as it 
crawled to within inches of her before perishing.

Where was Proctor John she wondered. Shouldn't he be stopping this?
Sweeping the crowd with magesight she saw Eldarion run Proctor John 
through and her mentor disappear. A creature dived out of nowhere at the elf, 
Thai hurriedly returned her attention to the combat at hand.

Several archers still peppered the edges of the crowd with bowfire. 
Thai took control of their arrows and returned them burning with eldritch fire. 

The crowd of festival goers was making it hard for her to see, Thai 
boosted the power of her voice and projected to those in earshot,"Have faith 
in the Redeemer, the witches cannot stand against the Light weilded by a true 
believer." Several sturdy looking men near her responded to the magic in her 
words and began to glow with flickering white auras as she concentrated on 
them. With glad cries they picked up swords from fallen Inquisitors and 
attacked the attackers. Following their lead, others in the crowd did the same.

Thai sank back against the wall to catch her breath and plan her next attack.
--Phaedra Whitlock

Her part in the mission was nearly complete. The sword was back
in the hands of her cousin. She thought with a wicked smile, "he would
make good use of it, this night," while escaping her pursuers.

It was  time to double back to her stationed companions.
Spinning on her heals she made like a rabbit. This way and that, Zeph 
dodged, hurtled and parried her intended captors, people on the street 
and accumulated debris. Without so much as breaking a sweat (well maybe 
a little glow) she had nearly made it to safety, but out of nowhere a
gang of thugs wearing robes with the church's insignia blocked her path.
They brandished weapons menacingly. They were no longer in a festive mood, 
they wanted restitution. 

Slamming on the breaks, she spun around, found her stern was covered 
by those still chasing her. They closed in.

Now beads of perspiration *_did_* form above her brow. Hands extended
expressing a desire to surrender, she said sheepishly, "Ahhh...can we talk 
this one out, boys?" They never had a chance to respond.

Like pennies from heaven, arrows fell onto the robed men. Two men 
who stood closest to her fell with disbelief etched in their eyes as they 
desperately clutched the shafts that protruded from their torsos and necks.

When opportunity knocks, Zeph answers. She bolted, knocking the
dying men out of her way, slipping through the arms of another and sprung
a poisoned blade from her gloved hand at a forth, killing him almost 
instantly. The others resumed their pursuit. 

"Stop that heretic!" someone behind her yelled hoarsely.

"Grab her!" another barked annoyingly in a chihuahua's voice.

All told, Zeph had attracted some ten or 20 men and women. They 
chased after her relentlessly. However this fact did not trouble her.

Spinning around a corner, she reached base. Turning to face her
persecutors she waited. Not long.

Spotting her standing yards ahead, arms crossed, they slowed to 
walking man's pace. Some pointed while others jeered like a pack of 
hyenas, that there would be a cleansing this night after all.

Zeph simply shook her head, "I don't think so."

>From the shadows came forth her allies. Well armed and brimming
with power. She looked up at Garrison with a smile. "This is Garrison,"
she told them then turned to eye them with contempt. "Garrison, these
people don't like me very much," she said with mocking hurt feelings.

Lifting his arms and staff in a show of magical preparation, a blue
hue of crackling electricity appearing above his head, the crowd lost 
heart, dropped their weapons and fled the scene without another word.

Zeph looked up at her venerable friend. "We're going to have to do
something about your act!" she giggled, "you keep clearing the house."

The fun ended shortly. There were still serious matters to attend
to. Eldarion, Elana and Therion were still far from out of the woods.

The small gang had just returned to the scene of the crime in time 
to watch Eldarion's aggressive attack on Proctor John. Zeph watched on in
disbelief at the Proctor's disappearance. She cursed under her breath
at his trickiness.
--Dave Smart

But Eldarion did not have time to wonder at the Proctor's
disappearence.  Just as he drew his sword up to examine the robes, a
dark flash with fangs and claws swooped down from the the spires of the
nearby church and knocked Eldarion from the stand into the streets
below.  Eldarion looked up as the form streaked back up into the stormy
sky and looked to be readying to make another pass.

It was Jericho.
---Johny Enright

Kristov moved to the elf's side as he stood.  The desert warrior 
shouted to be heard over the chaos, "You are Eldarion, yes?  I 
am a friend!  Escape with your friends!  I will cover you!"  He
raised his sword toward the shadowy form preparing to swoop.  The
blade blazed in the presence of so much evil.  "You will suffer
the wrath of Sirocco, the desert's purifying, cutting wind!"

Jericho swooped again and the instant he was in range, Kristov
struck with blinding speed.  As the blade sliced through the
inky blackness which made up the shadowy being, it's blazing 
light seemed to burn at the edges of the wound.  But Kristov
had mis-judged the blow, and instead of delivering a lethal
strike, had merely severed a section of Jerico's lower body.
"You'll not survive a second blow, Evil Spawn!"
--David Wendt

Niari raced towards the pyre, now smoking and beginning to burn. 
The prisoners were free and Niari picked out Therion's form through the
haze.  He was with the woman.  The other male, an elf, had engaged
Proctor John and swung...Niari gasped as she pushed through the panicked
crowd.  Proctor John had vanished, leaving his robes hanging off the
elf's wondrous sword. 

As if that weren't bad enough for the warrior woman, Niari suddenly
felt a tremor of evil course though her body.  Something was approaching
from above and waves of terror and power emanated from it.  Niari 
paused only feet from her employer and looked up at the sky.  A huge
dark shape glided down out of the blackness and it's visage was pure
malice.  The great red eyes tore into Niari's mind and she felt it's
presence throughout her being.  Struggling to regain her composure,
Niari signalled to the four n'Sete warriors who had followed her and
gestured to Therion.  The loyal Plainsmen immediately fought their way
to Therion's side and Essaut, one of the four, cried, "Lord Therion!  We
have come for you!  What are your wishes?"
---Kara Marzhan

Therion had seen Niari and her troops and called out, "To me,
Niari, to me!  Let us ride, and leave this
town behind us!"

He had no intention of being captured again...he would either
escape, or die trying...
---Dave Womack

Instead of attacking the Demon perched on top of the stakes above
the pyres, the crowd gasped at the presence of the dark creature.

Looking down upon Eldarion, Elana, and Therion, Jericho spoke in a
loud and hideous vioce:

"BE FREE MY SERVENTS.  I, YOUR DEMON MASTER HAVE COME TO RELEASE
YOU."  With that Jericho took wing into the night and vanished in the
darkness above.

     "Demon spawn."
     "Witches"
     "Kill them."
     "They are in league with demons."
     "Destroy them."

The crowd yelled at the sight of the demon apparently freeing those
fated to be burned.  The once divided and distracted crowd now had a
purpose, a goal.  The angry mob began to press forward, towards Elana
and friends in order to rend them limb from limb.
---Michael Fairbanks

Niari's face twisted in a battle for control.  It was difficult to
be around such evil and such raw power.  She whispered, "I'm sorry
father, I have no choice!"... and released the energy that had built up
inside her at the only target she could justify.  A slightly visible
shimmer of air thrust from Niari's body and raged up at the dark figure
flying above.  It was the creature's own evil, released back upon
itself.  There would be nothing it could do but receive the shock of
power which engulfed it's body and ripped through it's being, changed
and increased in strength by it's contact with the Kioshu warrior...
---Kara Marzhan

Eldarion's first instinct was to stand his ground, and fight
Jericho.  But then he remembered how much had been risked by friends
both known and unknown, and he knew that he could not let their effort
be in vain.  "Thank you my friends!  I hope that someday I may return
the favor!"  With one last look Eldarion turned and made his way in the
direction he had last seen Therion leading his sister.
---Johny Enright

Niari, still reeling from the power which had used her body as a
conductor, stood straight and signalled to the n'Sete to gather for
their departure.  Then, she looked back at Therion to see if he was
hurt...he seemed to be alright.

She and the Plainsmen began to follow Therion out of the square.
---Kara Marzhan

His arrows running out, Vengar assessed the quickly degenerating
scene.  The small dragon had freed the male elf prisoner, and he had
freed the other two.  The young girl that had been carrying that great
sword flung the blade to the prisoner that the dragon had just freed,
and disappeared into the crowd.  Therion was leading the female elf away
from the battle, while the male was engaged with the Proctor.  Also,
Niari's reinforcements had suddenly sprung to action, having infiltrated
the square under the guise of common peasants.  The crowd that had
gathered for the cleansing ceremony was scattering to the four winds,
and the Inquisitors that were on the ground were finding it difficult to
find their prey through the throngs of fleeing people.

Vengar decided it was time for his blade.  Returning his bow to his
shoulder, he then drew his sword and lept to the ground.  The bright
flash that accompanied its unsheathing went relatively unnoticed, as
just so much more noise in the confused din of the battle.  Vengar aimed
his leap to land upon an Inquisitor who had his back to him, and the
black-clothed brute succeeded in breaking his fall.  Pity that in the
process, he broke his spine.  Now on the ground, Vengar made his way to
where Therion was leading Elana away.

An armor-clad Inquisitor stepped in front of him, blocking the way. 
Vengar took a quick swing, but the blow was parried.  The Inquisitor
made a similar strike, and Vengar successfully blocked it as well.  But
he didn't see the counterswing coming, and barely twisted out of the way
of the blow.  The tip of the Inquisitor's sword easily cut through
Vengar's leather armor and sliced across his chest.  The wound knocked
the fighter to his knees, as his chest erupted in flaming pain.  His
chest tightened instinctively, causing his breath to leave him. 
Coughing, dripping blood on the ground, Vengar was dangerously
vulnerable to a lethal blow.

"May the Redeemer forgive you!" spoke a voice above him.  Vengar's
sensitive ears heard the almost inaudible swish of a blade being swung
through the air.  He rolled to avoid the blow, and the metal edge barely
missed him and buried itself in the ground.

"Damn you, heretic!" said the voice, but at that moment the pain in
his chest vanished.  Another voice spoke strongly in Vengar's ears,
saying, "To your left."  It was Therion's!

Without heed of defense, and able to concentrate again with the
removal of the distraction of his wound, Vengar swung about, reaching as
far outward with his sword as his arms would allow.  His black sword met
a startled Inquisitor who was moving in for a kill cleanly in the
abdomen.  The look of surprise and shock was etched on his face, as he
slowly slid along the blade and collapsed in a heap on the ground. 
Slowly, the throbbing in Vengar's chest returned, but Therion had
succeeded in blocking the pain long enough to rescue his friend.  He ran
as quickly as he was able to meet up with the Baron, and hoped that the
extraction of the prisoners from this chaotic massacre would be easier
than the rescue had been thus far.
---Michael Dew

Jarrad started to work on the crowd enmasse, making them see that the gods
were displeased with the Redeemer. The crowd was scattering in fear, and
Jarrad widened his range, stretching himself to affect as many people as
possible with his mental illusions.

Then his mind touched on a shielded mind, a dangerous mind. He withdrew
quickly hoping the woman had not noticed or was too busy otherwise. She
seemed to be concentrating on the fire around. Then Jarrad noticed her
dress, she was the Church's new deacon.

Deacon Thai felt the impact of a mind trying to compell hers and lashed
out before she could even see who it was. The other mind sensed her
resistance and pulled back quickly, but not before its shields had been
battered a little.

Sustaining a blow to his shields, Jarrad let go of the mass illusion he
was weaving, and probed straight into the Deacon's mind .. or tried to. He
came across a fairly strong shield, and one not of her own making. He
used a standard shattering mindblast and was shocked when it had no
effect. The shield had been placed there by a mage, not a telepath. Jarrad
didn't know if he could break it before his own shields were demolished.

Deacon Thai sensed the probe and laughed to herself as the blast slid over
her shield and vanished. Sensing a followup blast from the man, this one
denting the shield, she summoned her reserves of energy and sent a light
blast at the man. She recognised him now. He was one of the main leaders
of the rebels, Semareth had told her about Jarrad earlier.

Following the light spell with a force bolt she watched as Jarrad was
slammed into the wall behind him, and the attempts to break her shield ceased.

Concentrating all of his energy on shielding himself and attacking
the Deacon mentally, Jarrad was not prepared for the bright light that
blinded his eyes. Having lost all vision, Jarrad prepared himself for a
direct strike at the deacon's shields, when he was thrown back against the
building. It was as if he had fallen three or four yards onto
pavement. Dazed, his sword slid from his fingers onto the ground. He was
about to call out to his friends, when a dampening cloud surrounded him,
blocking all telepathy. Fighting against it, Jarrad was not prepared for
the next two spells.

Having almost exhausted herself, Deacon Thai first used a binding spell to
wrap Jarrad completely in a web of magic. He would not be able to move at all
within that, and the bindings across his eyes and ears would leave him
totally devoid of any sound or sight. Then she teleported him away, to one
of the dungeons she knew. She was caught almost unawares as his sword
teleported with him. That was extremely unusual and would require a
little investigation later.

Jarrad tried to fight the web surrounding him, but it was no use. Suddenly
he sensed the absence of the heat from the fires that were around before. As
the dampening cloud faded, Jarrad realised he had been moved somewhere, but
he couldn't see or hear anything. He could feel his sword however, it
had remained with him as the gods had promsied it would. There was nothing he
could do now, so he rested, regaining his strength for the confrontation he
knew was brewing.
--Paul Khangure

[Admin:  <  >  denotes Mind-Speak between Zion(sword) and Derek.]

Derek heard that there was going to be a burning and was never 
one to turn down a good time, so he decided to join the crowd.  He 
watched as the chaos ensued.  Fire, escapes, death, fights.  Derek 
couldn't help himself.

<This is what life is about.  Destruction.>   Zion spoke as Derek 
began to build into a frenzy of blood lust.

Drawing a sword seemed to draw the attention of every armed 
person within a blocks radius.  Be it the Proctor's men, the resistance, 
or the Republic troops.  Derek didn't care.  Anyone who crossed his path, 
died.  Even the fool who didn't know enough to get out of the way, fell 
before him.  Men, Women, Children.  It didn't matter.

The blood lust raged inside him.  Only one thing caught his eye.  
A desert warrior.  The stench of goodness coming from him made Derek's 
stomach twist.  Derek faught to try and reach the warrior who kept 
disappearing from view.  Eventually,  Derek lost site of him entirely.  

Zion sang and laughed in delight at the carnage before him.  So 
much wasted life.  It was glorious.

After a time, order began to return.  Derek started to feel the 
fatigue of his muscles and decided it was time to leave this place.  He 
was blood spattered, cut and bruised.  He even had a few broken ribs 
where Zion let a mace strike.  "<to keep you humble.>" he said.
--Michael W Fairbanks

Eldarion ran accross the street and stopped when he noticed a
struggling form beneath the slain bodies of several Inquisitors and a
couple of innocent peasants.  Something about the way the little stubby
legs moved made Eldarion start casting aside the dead and wounded.  He
reached in between two dead Inquisitors, and pulled out a wounded
Flanner.  "Flanner, where are you hurt?"  Eldarion asked anxiously.  The
dwarf was covered in blood and gore from top to bottom.

"I...I'm okay.  Just bonked me in the skull, they did.  I was
trying to keep them offa yer cousin when they ganged up on me.  Last
thing I remember was Joreen's voice calling down to me to duck, so I
did."  The dwarf clutched a broken elven glassteel dagger in his hand.
"See, I toldja.  It never fails..."

Eldarion placed his hand on Flanners shoulder.  "When we get back
home, we'll have you a war axe made of glassteel."  Just then, he
noticed his sister and Therion across the street.  "Come, Flanner. 
There's Elana now!"  Eldarion paused to unleash a forcebolt at a would-
be crossbowman.  "Let's get over to her and get out of this crazed city. 
We must find Garrison as well.  I have to tell him about this Proctor
John.  He's a Darkguard, Flanner.  A very powerful one!"  Eldarion
picked up a discarded shortsword and handed it to Flanner.

The two warriors fought their way across the Avenue of Triumph in
the direction of Elana and Therion.
---Johny Enright

Smith considered Raven's offer..his help would be valuable,
but Enrico hadn't done anything to hurt him personally.  Smith
shrugged and replied "Raven, I can't promise to kill Enrico.  I
can surely understand a grudge...I'm starting to develop one
against the Proctor right now...but the only reason Enrico and
the Bank are doing this is because they think they can make a
better deal by being on the Proctor's side.  If the Proctor fails,
I would be surprised if they didn't switch sides! <Smith chuckled,
then continued>  You strike me as an excellent fighter, and we
certainly need you...but it's against my policy to lie to possible
allies.  Leads to hard feelings..<Smith grinned>"

"Anyway, tonight is the cleansing, and I have to spread a little
joy in town <Smith smiled sarcastically>.  Why don't you think
about whether you'd be willing to get the church taken care of,
first, and then we see whether we can't do something a bit less
drastic on Enrico...."

Smith gestured, and reappeared in town as hell was breaking loose.
No reason not to join in!  A group of Inquisitors had seen him appear,
and was raising a call against him.  Strangely, a Republic army
lieutenant was with them, pointing to him and encouraging the
Inquisitors.  Smith pulled his flame rod, and several balls of
fire hit the group, causing men to run through the streets screaming
in pain as they tried unsuccessfully to stop the burning.

A nearby house of a sympathizer presented an irresistable target,
and he held out a hand, as dragon fire sprang forth, igniting the
house.  A second, third, and fourth target was ignited by firing
flame from the rod.  Curiously, a squad of Republic Interior Ministry
soldiers rushed forward...it was strange indeed that they were attacking!
They would be under Enrico's direct command...strange...
Within a few seconds, half the power of the flame rod was expended, 
annihilating the squad, several innocent bystanders, and spreading
a raging fire through much of the poorer part of Montfort!

Something was wrong, though...too many troops were coming straight
for Smith...he began to think that maybe he had stayed long enough...
--JLSmith

Iosono jumped across the expanse between two homes as the flames engulfed the
roof he had just been standing upon!

Iosono looked back towards the source of the fire and narrowed his eyes.

(Smith!) he thought as he spotted the darkly dressed figure and the
very familiar firerod.  He looked back at the flames to his back.

(That's twice now!) he hissed as he jumped from roof to roof, dodging stray
arrows and other nuisances of war.

He finally reached the awning closest to where Smith was standing.  Iosono
watched the soldiers rushing towards the source of the pyrotechnics.

Iosono closed his eyes and shook his head at the lack of respect for life that
this person showed.   He opened his eyes once more, a visage of stone chiseled
upon his face.  (However, without one such as him, Montfort is doomed...) Iosono
realized grimly.

"Grrrrr..." Iosono growled, gritted his teeth and leaped from his rooftop
perch.  The air rushed by his ears as he dropped towards the canvas awning
suspended below him.  Iosono hit the awning dead center and used it as a
trampolin to catapult himself into the air. As he somersaulted through the
air, <SHING!> <SHING!> his blades sang as they were drawn in mid-air.

Iosono landed with a thud next to Smith and rose to meet the charge of the
Republic's troopers.

"Couldn't you have spared at least some of those innocents?" Iosono hissed
through clenched teeth while looking straight at the onrushing soldiers.

"Oh, and nice to see you again..." he added dryly, his swords slowly weaving
before him.
--Lord Billy Yee

Himgurath had poisoned all the wells nearest the Church, the Bank and any 
dwelling of staunch Followers. It took a long while, but but the challenge 
of going unnoticed countered his impatience.

He moved toward the meeting place Smith had chosen. The flash of flame 
drew his attention away from the spectacle in the square. He realized that 
it must be Smith and ran towards the scene.

He saw an unfamiliar elf land next to Smith who looked to be aiding him. 
Friend, then, not foe. Himgurath assessed the situation and realized that 
Smith was going to be innundated shortly. He quickly made the choice to 
rush the Inquisitor's from the back. He plowed through their ranks 
inflicting death from behind. 

Arriving at Smith's side he stated the obvious: "Perhaps we should go."
--Pam Curry

The sobbing of children and women and men, and the cries of pain and 
fear, all merged to become an ebbing and flowing tide of sound that beat 
with Cari's own heart. She steadied the old women who still stumbled 
beside her and kept a sharp eye on those few people she was guiding to 
wider streets, far from the battle. 
 
A scruffy blond-haired boy behind her suddenly cried out, "Fire!" 
 
His cry shocked the little group for a minute and they all looked back to 
see flames leaping high into the sky from the festival grounds. The old 
women muttered, oh so softly, "My Lady, save us." She looked fugitively 
towards Cari to see if she had heard, but only saw that the young woman's 
green eyes were flecked with the dancing of the flames and did not seem 
to have heard.
 
Cari almost sent a mental shout of, "Hurry!" She caught herself and 
tugged on the old woman's arm, and pointed with her free hand towards the 
street ahead. They ran then. Except for Cari and the old granny.
 
Once on the main street the little group broke apart, leaving just the 
girl and the old woman. Cari caught the granny's eyes and gestured to 
ask, "which direction?"  The old grandmother patted the girl's hand and 
shook her head, "Thank ye chil.' Me house's not far. May ye be blessed 
for your kindness."
 
Cari squeezed the woman's hand and began to look around to get her 
bearings as the woman hobbled away. She was far from where she was to meet 
Mark and Cilande. She headed to the shadowed streets ahead of her,
and when she found a narrow, deserted lane she stopped and called out,
 "Mark? Cilande? Jarrad?"Just as she was about to send to 
Mark that she was on the opposite side from their meeting place 
she saw the young scribe that she had played for earlier; 
the one she had decided was about the right size for what she needed. 

At the moment the adolescent boy in his long black robe stood breathing 
heavily in the middle of the street, looking about with fear 
and confusion etched on his plain, pale face. Cari pulled her flute from 
her pocket and began to play, softly; and as she played she tugged on his 
mind to come to her little lane. When he turned toward her shadows and 
began walking in her direction she put the flute away, though kept up her 
gentle pull, and took from the bag in her pocket one of her treated darts.

When he reached her Cari was leaning against a wall, looking exhausted.
Recognition showed on the scribe's face and he said, "The flute girl! Are 
you alright?"

Cari took a unsteady step towards him and started to sag. The scribe 
reached out to help and when she grasped his arm to balance herself she 
pushed the slender dart home. The scribe jerked his arm in surprise, 
but was kept busy trying to support Cari's full weight as 
she let her knees relax. She arranged to sag back 
into the wall, forcing the boy to come further into the alley. 

"In the name of the Rede....." he said as he began to collapse and his 
hands slid down her arms before he fell in a black bundle in the dirt.

The young rebel pulled her prey into the alley and began working at 
getting the robe off the boy. When she at last succeeded she stripped off 
her rags, clothing that carried the dirt of far too many roads, and began 
to rub the worst of the fat and soot from her face and arms. She knew 
that she was probably only smearing it mess, but figured that with the 
fires and fighting no one would comment on the filth. From her pockets 
she pulled out her flute and put it in the worn leather bag that carried 
her blowgun and darts. She heard the wood clack against the gold coin 
that the Church Deacon given her. Cari smiled coldly at that memory. "That 
shall go towards more weapons, 'good' lady." she thought. 

She stuffed the rags into a refuse barrel, and pulled on the scribe's 
robes; then checked the cheap dagger she wore strapped to her left leg. 
"I just hope no ally is in a battle frenzy and taking out anyone who 
looks like they belong the Church." She shrugged at the thought, and knew 
that tonight, and probably for many days to come, danger would always 
take many forms.

Before she left the alley she knelt by the fallen boy. She almost felt 
sorry for what she had done to him. He had tried to help her. "But this 
is battle, and I fight for ones such as he. Though for now he won't 
appreciate that." She erased the memory of her presence and completed
the sending that Deacon Thai had interrupted. Deep in his mind, 
where his dreams waited, she put the vision of an empty 
Church standing in an empty, bloodied city, where bodies of 
farmers and their children lay waiting for the crows. 
She let him feel the betrayed confusion that she had sensed from the 
refugees of that town, believers of the Redeemer who had turned to the Church 
when the Dark army flooded into the peaceful farmlands and found 
their faith and their Church silent and hollow. Believers who had 
paid their tithes, said their prayers, and "cleansed" their town of witches.

She stood, and pulled the hood of the robe up, grateful that it had one 
to hide her face. From the boy's height and slender frame she judged that 
he would sleep for hours so she took the time to put out another call, 
"Mark - I will meet you at the inn!"
--Cathy Mosley

Dryctor had been Holding back walking around invisible looking to see 
where he could be of help. he had not seen who fired up the buildings but 
he did see Iosono Racing across the rooftops. he followed as best as he 
could arriving shortly after Iosono landed next to someone who seemed to 
have made a lot of guards upset. Dryctor recognised him as the one called 
Smith (having seen him at the party) He pulls his sword then takes 
position on the other side of Iosono then removes his ring making it look 
like he just 'Ported in. 

"Hello Iosono, Is this a private party or can anyone join in? 
--Barron C. Featherston

"Dryctor!" Iosono called out, without looking.  "welcome!"
--Lord Billy Yee

As the guard's recover from the sudden apearance of 2 elves (it didn't 
take long, they ARE pro's after all) and continue to close Dryctor Casts 
a quick spell and pulls some of the flames from a nearby house in around 
the 3 of then as a flaming shield.
--Barron C. Featherston

"Huh!" Iosono uttered as the flames surrounded him.  He turned back to
Dryctor.

"Now's not the time for defense, brother!"  he screamed above the roar of the
flames.

Iosono turned back to the wall of flames.  "PHOENIX CLOAK!" he bellowed and
dove head long through flames!  Iosono rolled out of his dive and was on his
feet in a flash.  Two Republic troopers were on him in a heartbeat.
--Lord Billy Yee

Dryctor shook his head and thought to himself 'I guess he's not seen a 
fireshield before. He could have just walked out. it only hurts those 
trying to get in.'
--Barron c. Featherston

Iosono engaged them full on as they began the dance of blades.

***********************************

The two were superbly trained making survival that much more difficult for
Iosono as he tried to parry their lightning fast strikes.
--Lord Billy Yee

Meanwhile Dryctor was busy fighting those trying to get to smith from the 
other direction When he heard Iosono call out....
--Barron C. Featherston

Suddenly, a flurry of movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention.
Iosono leaped backwards suddenly, and gave himself an extra second to
see what had caught his eye.

Iosono eyes opened as wide as full moons as a look of horror formed upon his
face.

To one side of the battle, the flames were spreading at an incredible rate,
completely out of control!  Numerous building were blazing and upon one
of the 2nd floor balconies suspended high above the battle was a little girl
hanging on for dear life as roaring flames were licking at feet and dress!

A blade suddenly came screaming down at the distracted elf!  Iosono barely
raised his shortblade in time and the sharp ring of metal entered the air,
already filled with the sounds of the chaos around.

Iosono tried to disengage himself, but the two Republic soldiers had other
plans for him as they pressed their attacks in response for his gradual
withdrawl.

"DRYCTOR!!!!!!" Iosono screamed as he thrusted the point of his longblade
towards the dangling girl.  "THE GIRL, DRYCTOR!!!!!!!"
--Lord Billy Yee

The uncontrolled blaze rapidly caught Deacon Thai's attention as 
she looked for her next target. "Astarte..." she whispered in horror, 
even as her fingers began a new spell. Her spell reserves were getting low 
after the continuous combat, but fire was her chosen element to command. 

The roaring flames pulled away from the child only to return an 
instant later as a wind fought her for dominance. She snuffed out a 
portion of the blaze around the child but couldn't control all of it. It 
was too big for her in her present state of exhaustion.

One of the men pointed a sword at the girl and screamed someone's 
name to help the child. The man had been encircled by another fire wall 
and Thai dropped her control of the far distant flames to snuff out at 
least a portion of the ring surrounding the men.

Tired to the core, she returned her attention to the flames 
whipping to and fro, determined to control the raging blaze...
--Phaedra Whitlock

Dryctor looked and saw the girls plight, He had to Drop the fireshield 
and cast another shell quickly! He took a quick running step and jumped 
into the air as the flight spell took affect, He quickly flew to the girl 
and carried her to safety. He set her down and hoping Iosono and Smith 
would be OK flew back to the burning area to rescue more trapped people.

%Falk'r, Come and help me find those in need of rescue%
--Barron C. Featherston

William strongly desired to do something amid the chaos but had no target.
The prisoners had been freed and the only people around him seemed to be
friends and members of the village.  The hunter had never before felt so
helpless and frustrated.  His head whipped around trying to locate his 
friends.  They were several yards away from him now.  He tried to get nearer
to them but was knocked away by a group of peasants attempting to flee the
square.  He found some shelter on the side of a shop.  This was not how he
had pictured the evening.  He looked up at the dark sky and saw a shadow 
poised on a rooftop.  It was one of the Inquisitors.  Slowly, William drew
and notched his bow.  The Inquisitor never saw death take him.  He simply
fell quietly amid the clammor of the town square.

William smiled for real now and looked up again to scan the rooftops for
more targets.  "Ah, there's another one," he murmered to himself and
fired another arrow...
--Kara Marzhan

Strawberry watched in horror as the crowd went completely out of 
control. His above average height came in hand this awful evening. 
Able to see most of what was happening, he spied William's actions 
and gave him the thumbs up. Whether the man saw it or not was not 
important. What *_was_* important was the safety of one's self. 

Unable to heed his friend's request, Strawberry moved towards 
another location, out of the way of the stampede. Against a wall 
across from where William was busily taking pot shots at rooftop 
Inquisitors, he stood and watched. 

Chaos had broken loose. Fires were now blazing from nearby shops 
and homes. Screams of pain and fear filled the streets as did 
pounding feet. Strawberry became transfixed by the entire ordeal.

What was that? Up the road some, close to the now burning wood pile 
he could just make out the vision of a tiny red headed girl. His 
thoughts would normally pity the child thinking her helpless in 
such a dire situation, but something told him she was not hapless.

Suddenly a nearby scream grabbed his full attention and he turned 
towards the shrill sound. Another member of the rushing herd had 
fallen. A young woman. She was slowly being trampled by a 
continuous onslaught of panicked people. Unable to stand by 
helpless, Strawberry, a man *_not_* noted for his bravery, jumped 
into the torrent of flesh and attempted to perform his first ever 
rescue attempt. Success! Moving slowly, bashed from swiftly moving 
characters, he finally made it to the now seriously bruised and 
battered young lady. With all his strength he picked her up, 
fighting the will that desire to force him down beside her. Girl in 
arms, he moved her to safer ground. Panting he placed her gingerly 
against a supportive wall and happened to glance William's way. He 
was still busily firing volleys of arrows into the night.
--Dave Smart

Therion had gained an important insight during his imprisonment; 
the Inquisitors weren't fighting for money, or power, or honor...they
were fighting for a cause they firmly believed to be good and right.  It
was their strength - yet, like any strength, it could be redirected
against the attacker.

Vengar had been injured, but was still alive and able to
fight...and, more importantly, to move!...the lady Elana was beside him,
and Eldarion was proving more than a match for the Inquisitors.  As
bush called out, the group moved quickly to relative safety and
possible escape.

As the wind began roaring, and a towering whirlwind fanned flames
through the summer-dry wooden buildings of Montfort, the Inquisitors
started to crack.  Proctor John's disappearance had further unnerved
them...though this was not entirely good, for panic could transform an
army into a rioting mob.

Garrison and Zeph faced one such mob.  Therion smiled...this was
the very kind of situation where mind magic excelled.  Three of the
leaders of the troops acquired a beautific expression, each firmly
believing that the Redeemer himself had appeared to them.  In powerful,
confident tones, they turned to the others and spoke fervently, saying,
"Fellow Inquisitors, the evil ones are destroying the city of Montfort
and murdering it's people.  The Redeemer has heard their cries, and
tells us to leave these vile witches to view the terrible crimes wrought
by their confederates, in the hope that at last they will see their
error.  We must go now to fight those who command the fires of hell!  We
must rescue the innocents, the weak, the helpless!  If you believe,
follow us!"  
--Dave Womack

Zeph and her company stood their ground, prepared for an
exhausting fight, but none came. Instead they watched on as the
once menacing charge, stopped and followed the three leaders.
Dardt squawked tauntingly above Zeph's head.
--Dave Smart

The three drew their swords and began walking with
determination toward the destruction.  The rest, seeing this clear
example of the will of the Redeemer...as well as their leader Semareth
also battling toward the same area...had no reason to doubt, and
followed.
--Dave Smart

Matters were going well!  True, Iosono was out trying to
save an innocent child, and there were lots of enemy
troops out there...but the fire was building even more
quickly than Smith had hoped.  There seemed to be some
magical opposition to the fire, but it didn't seem
particularly determined.

He chuckled...and just couldn't resist an opportunity
that presented itself.  The fire was spreading amongst
Montfort's wooden buildings, and this in turn created
an upward flow of air as the fire pulled surrounding air
in and heated it.  Smith began an incantation, calling 
upon the forces of wind and storm, and soon the air
began to flow more quickly into the hellish inferno.  The
currents began circulating rapidly about the center, and
a black whirlwind, filled with burning embers, ash, and
sparks rose into the sky, it's evil red glow visible for
miles around.

Smith noticed a small gap in the shield created by Himgurath,
and saw a platoon of Inquisitors standing uncertainly.  Grinning,
he finished the spell, and watched in satisfaction as the wind
became more and more powerful, pulling combustible matter from
around the town into itself, and building yet more power.  The
scream of the wind filled the air, it's sound flooding the ears
and drowning out all else.  Some of the Inquisitors tried to
run as the strengthening tornado traveled toward them, but they
were not fast enough.  They died en masse, and the firestorm
began traveling toward the Church itself...and some 7' tall
fellow with a sword...

 He turned to Himgurath and mindspoke *You're right, we
probably should leave.*  He took the flamerod out of his
coat, and soon the two were walking out of town.  The 
landscape resembled nothing so much as one of the more
unpleasant planes of the Abyss.  The only sounds that rose
above the firestorm were the occassional scream of pain
or terror.  <Smith grinned>.  It had been a good evening's
work...not a great evening...but definitely good!  If the
Church wanted burnings, he would show them a proper burning!
He would have loved to be able to see PJ's face when he
started counting up the costs of all this damage...
--JLSmith

Semareth watched as the fiery maelstrom flew towards him, the crowd clearing 
away before it until finally it was just him between it and the Church. 
He turned to face it grimly, and with a prayer to Sh'aljien, he ran 
towards it, a roar of defiance erupting from his throat.

He met it some hundred yards from the Church, the flames seeming to reach 
out and embrace him as he charged into the wind-whipped center. His 
cloak, boots and gloves were burnt from his body. His armor began to glow 
red-hot, and his skin blackened. He roared again as he slammed his sword 
into the ground in the middle of the firestorm, bracing his feet as the 
winds buffeted him around.

#Sh'aljien, my lord, gather up this fire with Your Hand, lest Your 
faithful be destroyed#

His skin began to blister in places... he knew that a normal man would 
have been incinerated seconds before...

*SO IT SHALL BE DONE, MY FAITHFUL SERVANT* 
And the fires died, the winds dropped, and Semareth was left standing 
alone in front of the Church, hair singed, skin blackened, clothes burnt 
off but for his armor... but a tired smile on his face. Smith couldn't 
run forever, and he would pay for this. Oh yes he would. Through cracked 
lips, Semareth smiled again... besides, he would heal in a few days.
--Nick Takayama