[CHURCH]  COMPENDIUM VI  [Sept 1995]
THE CLEANSING OF THE WITCHES, PART II


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


Bonedancer didn't have to wait long for the main event to begin.  
He was barely settled in his rooftop vantage point before the roar of the 
crowd swelled, and the prisoners were led out and tied to the pyres.  The 
appearance of Proctor John served as fuel for the crowd's noise, which 
increased in volume.  Proctor John's speech, which Bonedancer could barely 
hear from his position, lasted only a short time before chaos erupted.

Seemingly from a dozen places at once, the crowd was screaming and 
running in terror.  A slight figure of a girl, weilding an enormous sword, 
was cutting a swath through the crowd straight for the prisoners.  A house 
several buildings away, burst into flames, and arrows started flying every 
which way, from the street, from the rooftops, from everywhere.  Several 
arrows struck Bonedancer, putting even more holes in his already tattered 
clothing.  "What is this?  Did someone cast an attract weapon spell on my 
clothes when I wasn't looking?"  He mutters to himself, as he hurried 
ducked down.  Keeping his head down as much as possible, Bonedancer 
managed to see the prisoners free and rearm themselves, a tall elf with 
the sword he saw the girl with earlier.  

The tall elf tried to attack the good Proctor, only to have his 
opponent dissappear on him, and a flying demon swooped down to take his 
place.  He soon received reinforcement however, and beat a hasty retreat 
while his back was covered.  In addition the fire started earlier amongst 
the houses, started to worry Bonedancer who felt a change of location 
might be appropriate.  Unfortunately, he never got a chance to move due to 
a sudden increase in the fire storm, an increase which engulfed his 
building in flames.

Several groups of people in the crowd seemed to be congregating on 
each other, the prisoners among them, and they soon disappeared.  That's 
about when Bonedancer lost track of the various groups as the roof fell 
out from under him and he fell into an inferno.

Those few people still left in the square, mostly those injured 
under the feet of the mob, were greeted by a truly frightning sight a few 
minutes later.  Out of a structure that resembles more a giant bonfire 
than a building, a flaming skeleton walked.  Pulling the flaming remnants 
of his clothing off of himself, he stood, gleeming white bone easily 
visible in the light of the fires, his only adornment two bracers on his 
forearms, currently glowing red hot.  His domed skull and grinning visage 
surveyed the scene before he jogged off across the square and disappeared 
into a dark alley.
--Jeremy Farnham

At first, Zeph watched on as the crowd dissipated from her front
to head off the blaze that was threatening to consume most of Monfort's
east side. Taking her attention from the mob she eyed Therion, saw the
concentration etched on his face and intuitively picked up on what he 
was up to. "Cheeky Monkey," she giggled.
--Dave Smart

Therion looked toward a group of Republic army troops, and a
lieutenant barked orders to go immediately to the Bank, to defend it
against attack.

In the largely deserted streets, Therion commented, "My friends, we
must flee...for such destruction as disrupts our enemies tonight cannot
be hoped for again..."

He wondered how many innocent people would die in this fratricidal
war.  He had heard of Smith, but had hoped the tales of his excesses
were fiction.  Clearly, they understated the truth.  He hoped he could
save Chadwick from such destruction...
---Dave Womack

Ibal turned to Shade and Calin, saying "Let's go, then."  As he 
walked out of the inn, he was struck by the fact that the town of 
Montfort was on fire.  Leading a collection of horses from the flames, a 
hooded figure shot past the Dragon's Inn, out of town.

Ibal shouted after him "WAIT!!  I need those horses!!  I can pay 
for them too!"
--Andrew J. Anderson 

The hooded figure paused briefly to reply in a thick accent, "Sorry.
Need horses for friends.  Sorry."  As Ibal peered at the figure, he
momentarily glimpses what appears to be... fur?  But a glimpse is 
all he gets as the figure moves on.
--David Wendt

So many things were happening at once.  The elf and the others
were free, arrows were flying, people were screaming.  Walks
struggled to maintain his hold on the horses he held for his 
allies.  The steeds, trained to carry Soros's men into battle,
were not panicing - rather, the giant weasel had to fight 
prevent them from crushing the fleeing peasant's beneath their
mighty hooves.

Walks-On-Two-Legs had just about calmed his charges, when the
Inquistors who noticed him earlier decided to take a closer
look.  "You there!  Why aren't you running for safety like
everyone else?"  The black garbed men drew their swords and
advanced.  As they peered closely at him, one hisssed, "Demon.
You're in league with the witches!  Get him!"

His cover blown, the giant weasel released the reins of the
horses, threw back the hood of his cloak, and leapt at the
nearest Inquisitor.  The horses, strangely loyal to Walks,
also came to his defense.  Scant seconds passed before the
two men lay in a pool of their combined blood - blood which
flowed freely from wounds caused by horse hooves and weasel
claws.

Removing his cloak and stuffing it fully into his small
leather pack, Walks shouted, "My friends!  Let's ride!"
--David Wendt

A rush of air and a shower of sparks sent Ibal spinning around 
and touching the tattoo of a red circle on his forehead.  The sparks blew 
past him and around him, leaving him unharmed as the building across the 
square collapsed and a great pillar of flame moved across the streets of 
Montfort.

Ibal hesitated...no one had asked him to get involved with this.  
There was even a good chance that someone would pointedly ask him to get 
uninvolved with this.  "Of course, that would be rude...".  The crash of 
another building collapsing somewhere out of sight decided him.  If he 
didn't do this soon, there wasn't going to be much of a town left, and 
that would be a pity.

He called over his shoulder to everyone who had followed him out 
of the inn "Get inside!  There's about to be a storm!"

Dropping to his knees, he closed his eyes.  There was something 
he could use...somewhere...  Reaching out his hands, he touched his left 
and right wrists simultaneously.  The left wrist bore an image of a 
knight in white armor and red helm.  The right wrist had an image of a 
palm tree bent double in a lashing rainstorm.

Far away, on another world, a man straightened from his screen.  
"Yep, I'd say we have nothing to worry about.  Hurricane Boris is gone 
now.  I wish I knew how they blew up and collapsed like that."

On an entirely different world, Lancemaster Olven felt the 
familiar pull and shouted for his command to form up in close order.  
Suddenly, a fog billowed around them.  When it cleared, they were gone.

The hurricane exploded in the sky over Montfort.  Ibal had drawn 
off a good bit of its power to shift it in, but it still packed 50-mile 
winds and the other component of hurricanes, rain.  Montforts dark skies 
grew darker and rain poured down in torrents.

A dark fog puffed up about Ibal, but blew away almost instantly.  
Lancemaster Olven and the other Knights of Thorn appeared about Ibal, 
looking about as if confused.  Ibal shouted over the storm "OLVEN!!  HAVE 
YOUR MEN PUT OUT THE FIRES!!"  Olven pointed at the sky, clearly 
signalling; What, with this stuff?  Ibal roared "GO!!  It is your final 
service!!  MOVE, LANCEMASTER!!"  Shrugging, Olven directed his men.  
Twenty-four mounted knights split up into six groups of four and rode 
through the town.

Ibal stood up wearily and started moving the eye of the hurricane 
over the Dragon's Inn.  The rain abated and the wind stopped, letting him 
hear normally.  Hopefully, the fires would die out before the hurricane 
stopped.
--Andrew J. Anderson 

Thai looked up at the wall of fire and glared. Tired though she 
may be, she refused to give in. If power was what she needed to finish 
this, then power she would have.

Semareth stood directly in the path of the maelstrom as if to 
protect the church with his life. Well, he could be useful too.

Thanks to the fighting, the area was littered with the bodies of 
the dead and the not yet dead. Those few who still stood or limped in the 
street, stopped, very dead, in their tracks as Thai's last spell sucked the 
very life out of them. Imbued with their stolen power, Thai bent her will on 
the blazing inferno and crushed the fires raging along the street to ash.

Without her assisance, the flames around Semareth died as if absorbed
into the blue-gray mail he wore under his ripped white and gold. 

A small hurricane appeared out of nowhere, and standing in the eye of 
it Thai used the power she had taken to wipe out the last traces of fire 
in the city. The high winds began blowing the black soot and ash 
everywhere, and as the eye began moving away from her her long hair 
whipped about her face. There was noone left to see but Semareth as she 
walked slowly towards the ruined buildings where the child had hung in 
danger of her life.

The winds invigorated her while the ash stung her dark yes. Still 
enchanted, her white and gold robes were immaculate in the gathering dusk.
--Phaedra Whitlock

Turning to Garrison, she tugged at his gown, "let's make like
a tree and leaf!" Then strategically placing a couple of digits into 
her mouth, she blew. The whistle sound pierced through the court-
yard. Dogs howled in the distance. She tried again at a lower decibel.
This time success. Attentively, most of the remaining people, friend
and foe alike, turned her way. With a wave she beckoned her friends to
follow. With eager movements she helped Garrison towards the waiting
equine that Walks was so masterfully tending. 

In no time they were along side of the over sized weasel. She
nodded a greeting and waited anxiously for the rest of her friends and
family. "Come on, come on...Please make it." she whispered in a tone
matching her stressful anticipation. 

With Jericho fleeing the scene, his attempt to invoke an attack of 
angry church sympathizers onto the do gooders sequestered by Therion's
mind magic, not many obstacles lay wake in the path of the once destined
trio to be cleansed. But who knew what nasties lurked in the dark recesses
of the street or upper balconies. Proctor John had surly lost the battle
this night, but not the war. For now, Zeph and her friends would have to
consider their victory with a grain of humility. They had been extremely
lucky this night and fate had an awful way of turning on those that pushed
her to hard. 

As she waited for Eldarion, Elana, Therion, Flanner, 'bush', and 
Joreen to join, she thanked her gods, who she promised to be more 
mindful of, that so many forces this night had made themselves available 
for the right cause, their cause. But she could not help wonder how 
long her sterling luck would last and would it be enough...
--Dave Smart

The fear was overwhelming 'bush'.  Not only their own fear, but that
of the mounds as well.  'bush' had not anticipated the crowd.  They had
thought it would be sufficient to point the mounds in the right direction
and let them do what would come natural.  Try to survive.  A very calous
attitude, and a calous attitude towards nature was not something that the
Warden of the Plants could afford.  For Sharionas, these creatures were far
more important to humans.  And 'bush' was to be their shepard.

The crowd had overwhelmed the mounds.  They began to lash out at
freind, foe and the innocent alike, if there were any here that were
innocent.  And 'bush' could not control them.  All they had seen of the
others was Zeph and the sword.  When the crowd lost it, their freinds wre
gone to them.  When the mod paniced, their own fear and that of the mounds
threatned to destroy the Warden's hold on their own self.  The only thing
that kept them from being trampled to death was the press of the crowd
holding them up.  And then the mounds started to attack all of those near
them, and 'bush' couldn't keep up the disguises.  Several farmers and
craftsmen and women fell, along with children, while 'bush' struggled to
regain control, and Eldarion cut Proctor John, Jerico swooped out of the
night sky, and Joreen rained arrows down on the inquisitors.

Eventual 'bush' was forced to murder.  They reached out to the
closest mound, the largest one, and drained their life.  'bush' pushed
through the crowd to the next one, and jumped on it's back, to try and lead
it from the city.  The power from the first was timely, for then flames
roared up all around them, and 'bush' again lost all control of his charges.  

For several minutes, the mound's insanity at the flames ran free,
killing and maiming with the huge moss hands that were suddenly as hard as
rocks.  All 'bush' could do was hold on, killing this one would bring the
crowd down on them as well.  They already threatned to overwhelm the mound. 
And then the winds picked up, and the rain began to pour.

The other mound was out on the edge of the crowd, and the rain
soothed it somewhat.  'bush' was able to convince it that saftey lay in
their direction, and they tried to turn the mound they were riding towards
the last one.  By now, the crowd was much thinner, and much more interested
in saftey than in tearing witches limb from limb.  The wake of bodies the 
mounds left to soak up the rain was considerably less now than it had been
before.  As the Warden guided these charges towards the Inn, all 'bush'
could see were the broken and chared bodies that littered the streets.  The
urge to feed was strong in the mounds, but the insanity had not left yet. 
'bush' barely noticed as several Inquisitors fell before them.  When they
reached their freinds, 'bush' struggled to retain control of the walking
plants.  They heard Eldarion offer a hand up on to the horse, but shook
their head no.  The Warden would ride upon this.  And if they fell behind,
it was probally all for the better.  These creatures could never return to
their garbage pile again.  And as in Tynntangial, 'bush' had failed. 
--Jonathon Endicott

Eldarion and Flanner were the last to show up.  Everyone began to
climb into their saddles.  As they were a few mounts short, Eldarion
helped Zeph up behind Elana, after giving his cousin a big smile.  "You
did great, my cousin. Your father would have...."  Eldarion's face
darkened suddenly, and he just nodded to Zeph and walked to his own
mount, leaping onto the back.
---Johny Enright

A cold wave of ice washed over her shores, the fictitious memory
implanted by the Dark One resurfacing, if only briefly.  From so far
away in his icy keep, he kept a special place for her.  Elana could feel
the sudden tension from her young cousin.  "What's wrong?" she asked. 
"Nothing," was Zeph's automatic response.  Elana cringed slightly.  Had
Zeph just lied to her?  The matter would have to be investigated
further, something was up, but not now.  More pressing matters were at
hand. they were still not out of the woods.
---Dave Smart

Eldarion pulled Flanner up behind him.  He moved his horse up to
'bush', whose 'creatures' had done much to keep the few Inquisitors
still in the area away from their assembly point.  Eldarion reached down
and hoisted 'bush' behind Garrison.  "I know you don't like to ride on
horseback, but this is one of those times we talked about where haste is
of great import."

Therion and Vengar rode up to Eldarion's side.  "Are you all
ready?" the Baron asked his fellow former captive.

Eldarion shook his head.  "We're still missing..."

With a Legentor battle cry, Joreen lept from the rooftop of a
nearby building, bounded off the top of a canvas awning, and landed
amidst the group.  Eldarion corrected himself.  "Yes, we're all here
now!"  He smiled at Joreen as she mounted her horse.  She returned the
smile and moved her horse next to his.

"It's good to see you well, my Captain." 

Eldarion nodded.  "Its good to be free again."

Garrison called out from atop his horse.  "Perhaps we could wait
until we are in a safer place to get re-acquainted?  I think there are
horsemen coming."

To emphasize the point, the water trough next to the group suddenly
exploded as if from a lightning strike.  The scent of ozone filled the
air.

Eldarion looked down the road to see a very large group of horsemen
riding hard in their direction.  He turned to his friends, "Let's ride!" 
--Johny Enright

"Hiyaaaaa!" as the group moved their mounts into a gallop, 'bush' and Walks
looking quite uncomfortable on horseback.

Uncomfortable was an understatement.  Though Walks-On-Two-Legs 
had seen men ride horses before, he had never seen the reason
for it himself.  Surely he could run as fast as they needed to
travel?  But the elf, El-dar-i-on, seemed very insistant, so
the giant weasel clung to his steed's neck for dear life.  The
horse accepted it's passenger willingly, and in fact, seemed to
go out of it's way to ease Walks' ride.
--David Wendt

Zeph let out a "Hiyaaaaa!" as the group moved their mounts into a
gallop, 'bush' and Walks looking quite uncomfortable on horseback.

The group rode hard, surrounded on all side's by Niari's troops. 
They rode quickly by the Dragon's Inn, and passed a group of dangerous
looking men as they rode by.  Zeph pointed and yelled in Elana's ear,
"That's Smith.  He's one of the ones that's organizing the resistance!" 
As the group rode out of town, Zeph smiled and waved goodbye to the man
she had been pointing at.
---Johny Enright

As the party rode, Walks looked to the Warden, thinking to ride
whatever he was using for a steed.  Upon seeing the animated
vegatation beneath 'bush', Walks decided that his current mount
would have to do.
--David Wendt

Shortly after passing the Inn, they came upon a man standing by the
side of the rode.  He seemed quite agitated, and was beckoning them to
ride into what appeared to be a magical portal.

Eldarion was about to unsheath the sword of Xeen when Elana called
to him, "It is alright!  That is Lorendil!  He is a friend!"

Satisfied with the endorsement of his sister, Eldarion relaxed and
rode for the portal.  As each rider crossed the threshhold, an illusion
of that rider exited the other side so seemlessly as to appear that
there had been no portal at all.  When the last rider was through,
Lorendil himself entered and the portal closed.  The illusory riders
split up and led the pursuers on a wild ride throughout the town, always
adjusting their speed to remain elusively ahead yet tantalizingly close. 
One by one, the pursuers rode their horses into the ground, the steeds
becoming exhausted from the relentless chase.
---Michael Dew

<clang <clang!> <CLANG!>

The ring of swords filled the graying twilight sky as the battle
raged on in flame engulfed section of Montfort.

Iosono bled from several sword strikes across his body.  However, there
was no time to heal.  For every soldier he struck down, three seemed to
take his place!

Iosono quickly scanned the battlefield and suddenly realized that
Smith had once again pulled a disappearing act with that dark elf.

"Oh no, not again!" he cried out in frustration as he parried two
slashes aimed at his mid-section.

(Twilight!) Iosono mentally called out to his war-brother flying
high above the bloody and charred battlefield.

(Go find Smith!  Keep track of him! He must still be in town somewhere!)

Twilight shot off like a shootingstar and scanned the chaos for the 
darkly dressed figure.

Without luck at the present altercation below him, he quickly spotted 
another battle just outside of town and headed off to investigate...
--Lord Billy Yee

He was hurt all over, battered, bruised and the recipient of numerous 
sword wounds, but he lived...

Earlier, he had witness the exit of PJ's "witches" thus ending the need 
to prolong the conflict.

Iosono withdrew deeper into the shadows, as an Inquisitor passed 
dangerously close, and held his breath.

As he passed on, Iosono finally breathed again.

(Spellcasting is out of the question...) he though, (wouldn't want to
draw too much, or any for that matter, attention to myself.)

He reached into his sidebag and drew out a small metal flask, popped it 
open and drank the contents in one gulp.  As the warmth flowed through 
his body and the throbbing pain subsided, Iosono was glad he had prepared 
ahead.

Suddenly a shadow passed overhead!

Iosono dropped on to one knee and grabbed the hilt of his sheathed 
longblade.

A small grey falcon descended from the patch of night above and Iosono 
relaxed.

Twilight had an urgent message for his war-brother and relayed it in such
a rush that it threatened to overload the elf's weary mind!

"What?!" he hissed inspite of himself, "Smith, just outside of town, in
over his head?!"

Iosono looked longingly in the direction that the others had taken.  Some
assistance would have really been nice...

A determined look entered his eyes once more.  (Celestial Knights are 
sent where armies would fail or fear to tread...) he mused with a wiry 
smile.

With little effort, Iosono rose from the ground, like a phoenix from the
ashes.

His eyes glittered dangerously once more.

"Take me to him, Twilight..."
--Lord Billy Yee

As a significant part of Montfort was reduced to a smoking 
pyre, Enrico ordered one of his Limpia teams into action,
reinforced by a company of Interior Ministry soldiers.
The troops were well armed, reasonably armored, and highly
motivated.  They had observed Smith destroying a platoon
of Inquisitors, and seen a couple of elves join him, then
run off to help some child.  A corporal smirked...that was
why these foolish rebels always failed.  Their misguided
compassion betrayed them.  Limpia never suffered that
problem!

As Smith and Himgurath left, the troops trailed them;
arriving at the edge of town, a signal was given, and
two platoons of Interior Ministry troops attacked
Himgurath and Smith from opposite directions, as a third
platoon fired crossbow bolts at them.  The fourth platoon
waited in reserve, as the Limpia team watched...
--Dave Womack

Raven watched as Smith blasted away at the IM troops. Suddenly a 
large group headed straight towards Smith. Raven stayed back waiting for 
Smith to blow them to kingdom came. When an elf jumps from the top of a 
building to land in front of the running horde. The elf's blades weaving a 
deadly pattern of death in front of Smith. Raven suddenly relises that the 
elf is not good enough to cut through the whole throng. So Drawing his sword 
and buckling on his sheild he rushes towards the Fight. Quickly killing two 
of the IM's that weren't looking his way he sees Smith open another [admin: 
I don't see how else Smith disappears]  portal. He rushes over. 

"Where are you going?" Raven askes, "where ever it is I'm following"
With that Raven follows Smith.
--Nicholas Rodgers

Raven looks over at Smith. "I hope you have some more tricks up your 
sleave Wizard." Raven ducks behind his shield as a second wave of Arrows 
flies over to them. Then with a Coarse Battle cry of "BLACK WOLVES" Raven 
flies into a battle frenzy to rival the worst Barbarian. His blade flashing 
from body to body. He cuts himself a barricade of IM troops. But Raven is 
not a god. he gets tired and Raven soon knows that if Smith can't pull their 
fat out of the fire. Their going to get burned. Crispy black in fact! :)


"Smith!!!" Raven cries as he is shoved through the portal. " Where 
does ........" Raven's voice disappears as he falls through the portal.
--Nicholas Rodgers

Dougan got somewhat bored while waiting for Smith's return, so he decided
to arrange the silver and gold into neat little piles.  When he finished,
he found that there was quite a bit of each on the ground.  Then he
decided to start twiddling his thumbs.  He saw the fire and smoke and
heard the sound of battle coming from the city, but decided that he should
stay and make sure that the loot stayed put.
--CountRyan

***

For the first time in nearly a millenia, Proctor John had been
terrified.  He tenderly touched the point in the middle of his 
chest where the Elessidel had stung with his cursed sword of
Xeen.  There was a cut there.  A cut that refused his attempts 
to heal it.  A black ichor slowly oozed out of it at his touch.  

He had ported to his inner champer in the nick of time, literally.
He had come very close to an existence of pain within one of the 
famed Xeen swords.

He put on his black robes of office, and walked to the window.
Flames were consuming many of the buildings around the church.
It was like a scene from hell.  Proctor John allowed himself a
small smile.  Without knowing it, those of the 'resistance' had
actually helped him usher in the next phase of the Redemption.
Most of the local-born Inquisitors had met their fate this night,
weeded out by the resistance.  This saved him the trouble of 
weeding them out himself.  It was now time to bring in a few *new*
Inquisitors to replace the fallen.  

Moving to a blank wall, Proctor John lifted his hands, and a portal 
appeared.  What was on the other side appeared to be an icy wasteland.
A company of hardened troops dressed in the black and gold armour,
and black mantle of the Church Inquisitors stood ready to come through.  
The troops quickly marched through the portal, and assembled in the 
great hall outside.  All told, they were a company of over a hundred
battle-hardened troops.  Most were human, but there were a few troll
and ogre halfbreeds as well.

They were arrayed in ten squads of ten.  Each squad had an officer
standing out front.  Each officer saluted Proctor John with their
officer's batons.  The baton's were a slender rod of obsidian, which
would upon use send out a blast of lightning at an enemy.  They could
also be used to apply varying degrees of electrical charged shock when 
questioning prisoners.

Proctor John quickly inspected the troops.  The Inquisitors were simple
farmers turned soldier no more!  Now the church guard would be made up 
of shock troops of the Dark One's own army.  Proctor John addressed his 
new Inquisitors.  "You have all been briefed as to your duties here.
You were picked for this duty because of a proven ability to handle
situations which take some political finesse.  Those who are friendly
to the church must be treated with respect.  Those who are not...well,
you have your proven methods on how to deal with them.  Now follow me,
and I will introduce you to your new commander."

Proctor John led the Inquisitors out through the courtyard and into
the Avenue of Triumph.  He nodded to the officers, and they quickly
gave orders to their men.  The troops fanned out and quickly brought 
an end to any resistance to the church in the general area.  The
officers surrounded Proctor John as he scanned the area.  Then he 
spotted his man.  

In his mind, Semareth heard the summons from Proctor John, and turned
to see the leader of the church beckoning him.  He noticed the new
'breed' of Inquisitors enforcing an isle of calm around the church
gates.  He strode over to see what it was the Proctor wanted.

"Semareth!  It is good to see you whole."  Proctor John noticed that
several arrows were sticking out of Semareth.  With a flick of his
hand the, arrows all pulled out of him of their own volition, causing 
the High Inquisitor to momentarily wince in pain.  "These are your
new troops, and your new staff of officers.  They are somewhat *better*
trained than the Inquisitors who have fallen this night.  Use them
wisely."  Proctor John was about to turn, when one of the officers
held out a black box to him.  "Ah yes.  Semareth, be so kind as to hold
out your left hand."

Wondering what this was about, Semareth did as he was told.  As quick
as the hand was out, Proctor John whipped out with what looked like a
clawed hand and tore the hand off.  Semareth screamed not only in pain,
but in rage as well.  Two of his very own officers had to hold him still.
"*That*, was for failing me this evening.  You would do well not to do so 
again."  Proctor John opened the proffered box and took out what looked 
like a hand carved from obsidian.  He grabbed Semareth's left wrist and
attached the black hand to it.  Miraculously, the hand seemed to mend
into the torn and bloodied wrist, and the pain was no more.

The officers let Semareth go, and the High Inquisitor flexed his new hand.
It felt perfectly normal, but for its black translucence.  He looked up
questioningly to Proctor John, who continued "*That*, is because I know 
you will fail me no more.  A gift, as it were."  Proctor John pulled a 
pear from his robes and tossed it towards Semareth's left hand.  The High
Inquisitor caught it, and it quickly withered in the grasp of his new
left hand.  Semareth immediately experienced a brief moment of euphoria,
as the life force drained from the fruit shot up his arm.  Proctor John
withdrew a black leather glove from the box and handed it to Semareth.
"Best to keep it concealed until you need it.  Now, I want you to go
after the Elessidels and the Baron Therion.  They will be heading out of
town past the thrice-accursed Dragon's Inn.  Take a couple of squads and
go.  Have the others restore order on these streets.  Find the adjutant
of the Republic's troops and get their aid.  I think they will be in for 
a shock as to the new level of prowess in the Inquisitors."

Semareth left to give orders to his new officers, leaving one squad to
protect the Proctor and the church.  Proctor John was quite satisfied in
his new High Inquisitor.  But there were times that he seemed to have his 
own agenda.  No matter, the new Inquisitors were doing splendidly.  Now
he must find Deacon Thai to bestow his new gift to *her*. 
--Johny Enright

Across the way, the church gates opened once more and Proctor 
John emerged, flanked by row upon row of Inquisitors in fresh black and 
golden uniforms. 

For a moment, Thai hated him for still being as vital and 
powerful as he had been at the beginning of the fight, then dropped the 
emotion before he could sense it. Tomorrow surely Proctor John would 
demand an accounting, and she had best have something to show for her 
efforts. 
--Phaedra Whitlock

Thai stalked off into the hurricane, following two magical auras 
that gleamed strongly through the pounding rain.

She lacked the power to call Semareth, but didn't care. She was 
tired and mad at the utter devastation the cleansing had become.

Smith was truly in need of cleansing, that was obvious. Until Semareth 
found him however, she had work of her own to tend to.

The two were evidently newcomers to the town of Montfort. It was 
obvious where they were going, but she knew of a shorter route and took it.

The mans voice was low as he murmured encouragement to his female 
companion. Thai tracked them by his voice and as they came past the 
recessed doorway where she stood, she stepped behind them and smote the 
man over the back of his skull with the flat of her borrowed Inquisitors 
blade.

He fell to his knees and collapsed in the street taking his 
companion with him.

She started to roll from under his arm and faced Thai's sword at 
her throat. Thai placed a booted foot on the others back to hold him in 
place, and waited for the girl to make up her mind.

The girl nodded and relaxed against the cobblestones.

Thai nodded. "Wise of you. In a moment my mage guard will be 
here. You will of course go with them. I realize that you may be afraid 
of the Church but I would advise you not to be. If you fight us you will 
be destroyed, cleansed if you prefer. We would rather have you as allies."

Thai shook her head. "The church truly has come to help these 
people, and if you give us a chance, you'll understand that we are not 
the ogres and demons our enemies paint us as."

As Thai spoke, she saw the girl was listening attentively, and 
coming under her sway. The two would be taken to the Church and if 
Proctor John had time, they would be converted. If he did not, then they 
would burn, and neither she nor the church would mourn.

The grey robed acolytes appeared and Thai released the two to 
them. Magic dispelling manacles were placed on their wrists negating any 
abilities they may have had, and they were led away to what they assumed 
was not the hell they had been warned of.

Illusions for the weak minded to keep them happy. Sheep deserved what 
they got.

Thai turned and followed the others back towards the church where 
her long day was not yet over. There was still the matter of the prisoner 
Jarrad, and in the morning the repairs to the Church wall to consider, 
and Semareth.
--Phaedra Whitlock

After assessing his new troops, Semareth strode back to his chambers to 
change clothes. His cloak and boots had been burnt from his body, and 
though his skin was already healing, he didn't much fancy the idea of 
riding out the way he was. 

On his way back to the stables, he noticed a few villagers had begun to 
venture out of their houses again. Some looked on him with awe, others 
refused to look at him at all.

"Praise to the Redeemer!", a small voice piped.

Semareth stopped walking, and he heard a mother berating her child into 
silence. He spotted mother and child at once, and walked over to them.
He crouched slowly, painfully, before the little boy. The child was maybe 
8 years old, with bright blue eyes and he held his chin up as the High 
Inquisitor's steely gaze met his own.

"May the Redeemer bless you and your family, child.", whispered Semareth. 

"I'm not a child! I'm a man! and my name's Joran", exclaimed the boy, 
finishing it off with his best impersonation of a manly salute. His 
mother gasped.

Semareth surprised himself. He smiled. Though his face was blackened by 
the fires earlier, he was still disarmingly handsome as his lips curved 
into an unfamiliarly genuine smile.

"Indeed, a man you are, Joran. Take care of your family, and may you 
always stand firm with the Redeemer by your side.", he stood, and took a 
step away. 

Unimpressed by what had seemed like an ingenuine gesture towards the 
public, one of the crowd pushed forward and grasped Semareth by the 
wrist. The left wrist.

The glove slipped loose, and Semareth spun as a surge of energy flowed 
into him through his left arm, just in time to see....

The man's face contorted in agony as his life force flowed out of him. 
His mouth gaped open, gasping for air, his arms withered, his legs 
buckled beneath him.

Semareth yanked his arm away, but it was too late.

The man's head seemed to shrink and mummify, and he collapsed in a heap 
on the ground.

Trying his best to hide the wave of euphoria which engulfed him behind a 
mask of horror, Semareth turned and ran.

The boy watched him as he disappeared into the distance, his eyes wide in 
awe and fear. Who could dare oppose the Church?
--Nick Takayama

The hunter knelt beside her and ripped a bit of fabric off of his cloak.
He dipped the edge into a rainbarrell and dabed it on the cracked lips.
The poor girl, slowly coming out of shock, began to cry...

William looked up at Strawberry and asked, "Where are the others?"
--Kara Marzhan

With a jolt that took the hunter and girl by surprise, Strawberry 
stood and scanned their immediate surroundings. Although the crowds 
were diminishing in numbers, there was still an air of confusion 
and he was unsuccessful at spying the others. He shrugged 
discouragingly, twisting his face into a frown. He was about to 
give up when yet again he caught the red headed girl. She whizzed 
right by him, several weapon wielding, angry men were chasing her. 
"Who is she?" he wondered. 

He returned his attentions to the young lady who required him more 
and told William of his failure. "Where can they be?...I hope 
they're O.K." he voiced nervously.
--Dave Smart

William sighed and looked around the square.  The crowd had dissipated 
somewhat.  "They'll be alright." the hunter growled and returned to
tending to the girl, now wiping her eyes on her sleeve.  She smiled
weakly at Strawberry and whispered her thanks.

William gently disengaged himself from the girl and stood.  "I'm going to
look for them.  Stay with her until she feels well enough to go home.
Her family must be around somewhere and they will be looking for her.
I'll meet you outside the Dragon's Inn in an hour if I can.  If I'm not
there..." William trailed off as a giant black shape swooped down on the
square.  He had never seen anything so terrifying in his life.  The dark
beast knocked over an elven man and then seemed to swoop down for another
attack.  At that moment it seemed as if the creature was hit by something.
It faltered in it's flight.  Odd.  Then it delivered it's message to a 
group of it's minions near the pyre...people that had been at Hugh's 
meeting the night before.

The hunter was confused.  He looked over at Strawberry to gage the man's
reaction...
--Kara Marzhan

Strawberry took a double take at the scene before them and then 
faced William with a twisted expression, illustrating his genuine 
confusion. "What the hell-" he began to say when a thundering fire 
erupted from yet another building. The tall figure crouched in an 
effort to shield himself and the girl who sat between him and the 
hunter from the warm gust of air and flying debris. 

After a short pause he shuddered and continued to speak, "-is going 
on!?!" Not waiting any answer he turned to the two huddled beside 
him, "O.K., we'll do as you suggested. Take care!"

Watching William disappear into the shadows, he turned to his newly
acquired companion and asked, "now how do I get you home?" The girl
simply stared back with a hopless shrug. 
--Dave Smart

With the departure of William then the dissipation of the mob, 
Strawberry set forth on the task of getting the young lady safely 
home. If he was to accomplish anything of a positive nature this 
night, this was it.

Fortunately for the two travellers, their destination was to the 
opposite wing of the town, far from the perils, that the now turned 
courageous people of Monfort, were battling. Fire.

Their journey was not without conversation. Strawberry, a gentleman 
at heart, did not probe further into the youngster's affairs than 
simply acquiring the necessary information to get her home. The 
rest was supplied voluntarily. She was 16. A faithful member of a 
growing youth coalition in support of the Redeemer and his church. 
Strawberry's heart sank. He hid it well, exhibiting a rehearsed 
smile, so as not to create an uncomfortable situation. He thought 
sadly, "It is for you and others such yourself that I will seek the 
King, open his eyes and have him reverse the damage done by this 
false prophet, this so called Redeemer."

A few minutes later they arrived safely at her home. A quaintly 
built house sat on an immaculate lawn, surrounded by a 3 foot high 
white picket fence and rose bushes. The place reflected her 
innocence. With what little strength he had, he smiled a wavering 
smile and bid her and her family goodnight, unable to accept their 
generous offer of a nights stay. He had business to take care of.

Martial law was imposed days before and the Limper(?) troops, plus 
the new guard of the church were out in full force. Order had to be 
replaced. Strawberry did his best to sneak through the village to 
rejoin his friends at the agreed local. He never made it.

Running from shadow to shadow, he made his way. His mind raced, "I 
hope the others are O.K.!" A large formation of heavily armed 
troopers stormed by. He was undetected. The darkened sky provided 
plenty of shadow. Reaching the square where he had last seen 
William, he inspected it, found it empty except for scattered 
debris and the odd body. He shivered. Convinced the area was clear 
he krept out of hiding and proceeded across the square. He knew no 
other way to make it to his meeting.

Suddenly a light shone into his face. Blind, he attempted to shield 
his eyes with a hand. I'm doomed! sunk in. Out of nowhere a band of 
soldiers, clanged his way and took hold of him. He was a mouse in a 
trap...
--Dave Smart

The streets leading back to the rear of the Dragon's Inn were traveled by 
many a wounded soul, and Cari worked hard at using the black robe 
to let her slide from shadow to shadow until she reached her destination. 
but for the moment the chaos of the night seemed to have drawn all of 
them away. She hurried to the backdoor, slid back the hood of the robe,
and gently knocked.

The door was cautiously opened by Judy, who looked startled and worried 
by the dark robes, but she quickly recognized Cari's face and let the 
girl slip in.

"I think I need to borrow or work for an old garment," Cari thought to 
her with a rueful smile, then her expression turned serious, and she picked 
at the folds of the offensive garment, "This will be needed in the 
future, but for now I don't think I should be seen in it."

"No, I don't think so, either," Judy said, recovering herself, though she 
too look tired and strained. "I think I can find you a old smock from 
somewhere. 

"Thank you." Cari answered, finding a quiet corner of the kitchen to wait 
in while Judy headed to find the garment.

Soon she returned with a green smock, which she handed to Cari, and said, 
"I don't think this will be too big on you." She also handed a beige sash to 
the girl, and added, "Though you might need this." She nodded at Cari's 
added "thanks" and headed back to preparing some late night food.

Cari quickly slipped into the dress, which looked more like a long tunic 
on her, with an inch or two dragging on the floor, and hiked the excess 
up over the sash. The church robe she wadded up into a black bundle and 
started to head to the hall. 

"Are you hungry? Judy asked.

That brought Cari up short. Adrenalin had been her food for many hours and 
now that it had been reminded, her stomach began rumbling its protests. 
She nodded, adding to the headache that had developed long ago from the 
work she had been doing and fatigue. She gratefully took the bowl of stew 
and piece of wheat bread that Judy handed her.

After she had eaten she went to the hall to her little room and tucked the 
smock under the mattress. "I'll need to find a better hiding place for that."
What she wanted more than even sleep was a bath. Not only for the desire 
to simply be clean, but she now needed a new disguise. It had been all 
too close when she had been doing a sending and Deacon Thai had arrived.

She went to where the bath tubs were kept and carried jugs of water. She 
did not bother to heat it, she knew she had waded through colder. Even 
with this conviction she shivered as she immersed herself in the tub.
 
This time she was thorough in her bathing; now that she no longer wore the 
rags of a beggar. It felt odd to leave that guise behind, at least 
temporarily. While she scrubbed and strove to untangle her black hair 
with her fingers she pondered which path she needed to walk. 
To leave Montefort or to fight here and end her running? She had been 16 
when she fled her northern homeland, and since becoming a resistance 
agent five years ago she had had a purpose, but with purpose or no the 
result was the same - the road; with only lonliness, fear, 
and resolve to be her companions. 

She dunked herself, then came up far enough to let silky strands float 
out from around her head. "To stay in Montefort is foolish," she told 
herself. In all the years she had worked to help other resistance cells 
she had never seen such an uprising as happened tonight. It had served 
its purpose , freeing two brave mages and a hero, to fight 
on, but she feared that Montefort would pay a high price for this action. 
The townspeople would blame the rebels, with some cause, and turn closer 
to the Church. And how many of the resistance, leaders and warriors, had 
survived? Logically she understood she must travel on and see that the 
resistance spread.

"But I can't," she admitted, rinsing the last of the soap from herself 
and climbing out of the tub into the equally chilly room. She stood 
pondering the knowledge. She knew in her heart that it was in Montefort that 
she would make a stand. Probably her last, she understood that, because 
Montefort would not be easily freed, and she had knew what the town faced 
in the end. Whether she stayed for the people who had befriended her or 
because it was here that she had been part of a battle she didn't know. 
All she knew was that the war was spreading and one day there would be no 
place left to run to. 

She dried off and patiently worked out each tangle in her long, wet hair, 
and after cleaning up from her bath she pulled back on her new clothes. 
Though her body demanded sleep she felt better, both clean and determined.

She checked back in the dining room to see who else might have wandered in.
Then headed for bed. Jarrad still remained unaccounted for. She was getting 
concerned, because she had not heard anything from him since early this 
morning. 

As she fell asleep she hoped morning might bring some good news, though 
she suspected that what would be heard was of reprisals.
--Cathy Mosley