Zeph's mouth fell open.  No sound escaped, she could not believe
what she was hearing.
     She looked over to her table companions, who shared the same 
expression, and questioned them in the form of a wide eyed blink, 
"witchcraft?"
---ds
     Walks looked at 'bush=C6.  'bush' looked at Garrison.  Garrison 
stared off towards the sound of the official,  Joreen looked to Elana.  
Zeph started to rise.  This caught the attention of 'bush' and they had 
seen too much of this young lady recently to not know what to 
anticipate.  At any rate, something which would probaly not turn out for 
the good.  'bush' quickly put a branch like hand on her shoulder and 
another over her mouth.
     "Zeph, watch what you do.  There is no fighting in the Inn, 
remember, and you just escaped from Soros's dungeons.  Wait to see what 
the Baron does."
     'bush', however, didn't take their own advice.
     "What's the punishment for witchcraft officer?" they called out to 
the farmer.
     "Why, burning at the stake of course."  The man didn't even look in 
'bush's direction as he answered, though one of the guards did.  
Everyone else in the Inn was rather preoccupied with the disscusion at 
Elana's table.
     "We wonder how they plan to get the wood to burn..." 'bush' thought 
aloud in Zeph's direction.
---jen
     The words spoken by the man rang in Lorendil's ears, and his heart 
filled with concern for his table-mate.  He looked across at her, fixing 
his gaze on her eyes, and saw that his concern was surpassed only by the 
abject terror in the elven woman's eyes.  Something should be done.  He 
felt like doing it.  But if these events were being orchestrated by the 
Dark One or one of his minions, then he had to keep a low profile.  
Lorendil shuddered at the prospect.
     There was little that Lorendil could do to help Elana at this 
point.  Making no motion that the man who had read the edict could see, 
he slowly reached over and took Elana's hand in his, giving it a gentle 
squeeze of support.  She thanked him through her eyes.
---m
     Therion stood, and replied to the farmer, "I am Therion, Fifth 
Baron of Chadwick, Knight Grand Commander of the Order of the Silver 
Star."  Therion paused, and fixed the man with a penetrating gaze, until 
the farmer lowered his eyes.
     He sent a thought to Elana, "Lady Elana, we must leave Montfort;  
quickly.  Follow me."
     Therion continued, "The law of the land is the King's law;  and it 
is very clear.  Any noble may take custody of any prisoner, and may take 
such time as is needed to make determination of the truth of the 
charges.  Further, the law permits the requisition of such resources as 
may be required to secure the prisoner, and transport them safely."
     Therion paused again, using a hint of mind magic to add to his 
presence.
     "I therefore command you to bring your troops and accompany us;  
unless you dare to violate the King's law?"  Therion's voice had a 
dangerous undertone, enhanced by mind magic.
     He looked at Vengar, wondering if he would choose to join in this 
risky roll of the dice, then started walking forward.  The soldiers and 
the promoted farmer, at first confused, parted for Lord Chadwick, then 
began to fall in behind him...
---d
     Lorendil watched as the Strong One attempted to take custody of 
Elana Elessidel.  He noticed the Quiet One sitting nearby, and also 
noticed how he had deliberately not made any kind of contact with 
himself or Therion.  Lorendil assumed that he did not want to tip off 
their enemies that he was associated with the Baron and the accused 
witch, and the fact that Lorendil had been sitting with them pretty well 
damned *_him_*.  He knew it would not be long before the rumors surfaced 
and he, too, was accused, if not of witchcraft then of collaborating 
with demons.  Not the kind of attention that he liked.
     Many thoughts raced through Vengar's mind as Therion ventured 
towards the Inn's door.  He quickly looked over to Lorendil, who had 
remained at the table.  Lorendil nodded towards Therion, as if to say to 
accompany him.  But there was something not right about the situation.  
Therion may have taken control of this contingent, but surely anyone 
powerful enough to order the arrest of an innocent (he presumed Elana 
was innocent) would have other resources available.
     Vengar realized that Lorendil was staying behind to rendezvous with 
Niari.  He would be able to relay to her the situation that had 
developed in her absence.  Vengar quickly glanced over to Lieutenant 
Addison, who was sitting very uneasily in his chair.  The Baron of 
Chadwick had failed to acknowledge his faithful lieutenant (Therion's 
absent-mindedness showing again!), and now seemed to be departing 
without the Home Guard!  The accusations leveled by Therion on Soros, 
the steward whose orders they had been following until several days ago 
when they were reunited with their true leader, had put the man in a 
very confused state of mind.  Being separated from his Baron was adding 
to this confusion.  Vengar said to Addison, "Protect the Baron," and 
motioned him off.  Addison quickly sprung to his feet, and the four 
Guardsmen did the same.  They hurried after Lord Therion, forming a 
protective perimeter around their Lord in case the local soldiery 
decided that they no longer respected Therion's nobility.
     Vengar watched as they left.  He dared not approach Lorendil, for 
fear that whoever had ordered the arrest of Elana might still have spies 
in the Inn, and associate him with Elana.  It was critical, if his 
mission were to succeed, that he be seen as entirely unassociated with 
the events that had just transpired.  He called to Sera, and asked that 
she bring him a water.
---m

     Proctor John was a bit more concerned by the news Soros had brought 
him then he'd let on.  Soros.  That insignificant maggot had failed more 
times than he could count.  Still, he would have his uses...
     The news that Baron Therion was at the inn where he had just sent 
Gerrard disturbed him.  He decided he would have to go to the inn 
himself and risk another confrontation with the Elessidel.  He took what 
remained of the troops given him by Magistrate Kerns, and compelled the 
troops formally under Soros=C6s command to serve him (and the church).  
When he left the church compound, he had over fifty soldiers with him, 
all told.
     He got to the inn just as a stranger was leading out the Elessidel, 
with Deacon Gerrard and his troops falling in behind as if in an honor 
guard, as opposed to the arresting force they were sent to be.
     "What *_is_* this!"  Proctor John roared.
     Everyone in the procession stopped.  Deacon Gerrard blinked a 
couple of times, as if waking from a dream, and ran up to Proctor John 
to report. "Your Eminance!  We were assisting this noble lord in his 
taking of the witch, Elana Elessidel, to his keep where he will pass 
judgement on her."
     Proctor John blinked a couple of times.  He couldn't believe 
Gerrard was so stupid as to say what he just had.  Then he detected a 
disturbance in Gerrard's mind.  He looked at the stranger, and knew him 
to be the Baron Therion.  "Is that so!"  he turned towards Therion.  
"Well, m'lord.  I do now inform you that I was commisioned by the King 
himself as the Witchfinder General of the areas of Montfort, Chadwick, 
St Varalan=C6s, and Jord!  This commision does state that it *_is_* true 
that all nobles must assist the church in its cause.  While I thank you 
for your assistance, I must also inform you that *_I_* and I alone will 
make judgement on this witch!  If you interfere, you will be branded a 
traitor to the King's law, and a heretic to the church!"
     Proctor John put some power into his last statement, and it 
resounded and amplified for all in the area to hear.  He then reached 
into Therion's mind to try to turn it his way.  He found it shielded.  
Proctor John smiled.  He reached in, peeled away the shield, 
and....screamed!  He fell to the ground screaming, and at the same time 
Therion seemed to stagger a bit.
     Everyone froze at that moment.  No one knew what to do, until 
Proctor John seemed to recover and shouted out, "Warlock!  He is a 
warlock, and has just tried to bespell me!  Arrest them both 
immediately!"  There was blood coming from the good Proctor's ears.
---je
     As Proctor John attacked Therion's mind, a complex and viscious 
battle had occurred.  Therion had never had such raw power..such 
fury!..directed at him, and it took all his skill to reflect it back.
---d
     The troops immediately moved in with weapons drawn.  Therion and 
Elana had no choice but to surrender.  Deacon Gerrard placed a pair of 
rune inscripted manacles on Therion.  Therion felt his mind magic begin 
to diminish, but it never left him altogether.  Gerrard then placed a 
similar pair of manacles on Elana...and they fell off!  Gerrard picked 
them up again and placed them once again around Elana's wrists.  Once 
again the clasp came undone and they fell to the ground.  This time 
Gerrard took a step back and muttered, "Witchcraft!"  The surrounding 
guards followed suit, and stepped back from Elana.
     Proctor John had had enough, and said so.  "Enough!  Put them in 
the cart and take them immediately to the church.  Their witchcraft will 
not work on holy ground!"
     The guards grabbed both Therion and Elana from both sides, and 
began moving them to the caged cart.  They stopped when they saw the 
elven warrior standing atop the cage.  "Where do you think to be taking 
my sister?!"  He challenged to all about him.
     Everyone looked at the warrior.  In one hand he held a black 
marbled sword.  His other hand glowed with a purple energy.  Witchcraft! =
 
Some of the guards moved back.
     Proctor John knew that sword!  It was a sword of Xeen!  He 
imperceptably took a few steps back as well.  Then he called out, "You 
meddle in church business!  Stand away now, or you will be cut down!"   
A few of his soldiers raised crossbows to emphasize the point.
     One of his soldiers called out, "Lord Proctor!  He wears the same 
uniform as the murderer warlock we captured yesterday!  He must also be 
a warlock!"
     The elf smiled, and lept off the cart, shooting purple forcebolts 
in many directions.  Though he aimed a few at the guards holding Elana, 
the forcebolts seemed to dissipate before reaching them.  He then began 
attacking the guards between him and his sister.
     As guards began to track the elf with their crossbows, tendrils of 
roots seemed to come from the very ground to interfere with their aim.  
Small silver throwing daggers began to embed in some of the soldier's 
unprotected necks.  Where the elf was fighting, whenever it appeared 
that some soldiers would overcome him by sheer numbers, the soldiers 
were broken up by spouts of blue flame coming from the ground.
---je
     Therion's satisfaction at Proctor John's discomfort was short 
lived, for he now faced a battle he could not win.  Worse, since Lt. 
Addison and the few soldiers of the Home Guard had accompanied him, 
there was a real risk that they would get killed in a desperate but 
doomed fight.
     Therion told the soldiers to withdraw;  it was not the time or the 
place for such sacrifices.  The shackles came close to making him regret 
his decision...they interfered with his ability to do mind magic.  Not 
completely...but it was as if dark sunglasses were placed on a sighted 
man.  Dark sunglasses with a few distortions of the lens!
---d
     Proctor John knew the elf had friends here, but something was 
shielding their presence and locations from his searches.  He decided he 
had to take a more active role in this fight.  He began by shielding his 
troops from the blue flame attacks.  This took much more of his power 
than he thought it would.  (Who *_was_* it he was facing out there?)  He 
then touched the ground and the elf was engulfed in a pillar of fire.  
All of the soldiers fighting him backed away from the conflagration.  
Proctor John's smile faded when the elf leaped from the fire unharmed, 
and headed straight towards him.  In less than a second, the elf was in 
front of him, stabbing his way with the sword of Xeen.  Proctor John did 
the only thing he could.  He grabbed Deacon Gerrard by his cowl and 
pulled him into harms way.  The sword of Xeen plunged into Gerrard's 
chest.
     One of the people watching this amazing battle, by name of 
Semareth, ran forward and struck the elf on the back of the head with a 
plank of wood.  The elf fell to the ground, and Deacon Gerrard fell down 
on top of him, dead.  Proctor John looked at the stranger, thanked him, 
and told him to come see him later when this was all over.
     With the elf's fall (and Proctor John's active suppression and 
intervention), the battle soon died down.  Over half of the church 
soldiery lay dead or wounded, either by the elf or those helping him. 
Deacon Gerrard was also very dead.  Proctor John ordered the three 
(Therion, Elana and Eldarion) thrown into the caged cart and taken to 
the church.
     Once the cart was on its way, Proctor John went back to Gerrard's 
cooling body to claim his prize!  A sword of Xeen! and it was 
hi....gone.  Proctor John looked around his Deacon's body, but the relic 
had indeed been taken.  He looked around at the crowd that had grown, 
but could not sense who had it.  Strange.
---je
     Zeph moved quickly, cat like, without a sound and snatched up the 
sword of Xeen.  She had seen her cousin fall and although she still had 
several unanswered questions nagging at her, she new her cousin was  
true of heart and that was the only thing that kept that cursed sword 
from becoming a scourge onto humanity.  In the wrong hands and it was 
the end.
     It was easy enough to capture the sword without being detected, 
with all the chaos about her, but slipping away with it was another 
thing.
     The sword was a large obstacle for such a tiny lass, but she 
slipped under a nearby veranda, hid in the darkness of its shade and 
waited for the troops to leave and the crowds to disappear.
     If it hadn't been for the protective wards induced by her friend 
the great Garrison, the proctor would have easily found her.
     The time slipped by slowly, but she was safe and she crawled from 
her hiding place moments after the fighting and soldiers had left.  The 
girl disappeared into one of Montforts' many alleys.
---ds
     Proctor John ordered the dead and wounded to be brought back to the 
church.  There were many hidden enemies in this section of town.  All 
seemed centered on that accursed inn.  He would have to do something 
about that soon.
     Proctor John went back to the church, all the way thinking how he 
would turn these events (especially his Deacon's murder!) towards the 
ends of the church.
---je

     Therion was not feeling his normally amiable self.  First there was 
the embarassing surrender in front of the Inn.---m  And then, there was 
the degrading trip in the cart.  Led away like livestock, an object of 
contempt for the crowd...all of them screaming for his blood, and 
calling him a warlock.
     Finally, he was placed in a dank and ill-smelling cell.  Therion 
was not a happy man;  he had never been quick to anger, but an inner 
rage was building within him.  If it got too bad, he could sever the 
cord that bound him to his body...the body would die, but the spirit 
could remain upon the earth for a time...unbound, unleashed, and intent 
upon a terrible vengence...
---d
     Vengar was alone with his thoughts when Lieutenant Addison returned 
to his table.  He had heard the commotion outside shortly after Therion 
and Elana left, and feared for the worst.  His heart sank as the 
Guardsman approached.
     "Sir Vengar," he began.  The lieutenant stammered, fighting with 
the emotion of having watched his lord taken captive and branded a 
warlock.  Regaining his voice, he addressed Vengar again, saying, "It is 
my unfortunate duty to bring to you ill tidings with regards to the 
Baron.  He has been taken prisoner by the Witchfinder General, accused 
of being a warlock."  After a pause, he added, "Surely this is not 
true?"
     Strange as it might seem, this came as good news to Vengar, for he 
feared the man dead.  To verify, he asked, "You say he was taken 
captive?  He was alive the last time you saw him?"
     "Yes, sir.  It was he who ordered my men and I to withdraw from the 
battle outside.  Last I saw he was being hauled off in a cart."  Addison 
again queried, "Lord Therion is not a warlock, is he Sir Vengar?"
     "No.  No, of course not.  But I suspect that this may have some 
connection to what we saw between the Baron and his steward Soros.  
Being accused of something does not mean that you are guilty of it.  
Lord Therion is by no means a warlock."
     Addison was reassured with Vengar's words.  He relaxed noticeably.  
But there was still the matter of what to do next.  After an 
uncomfortable long silence, he asked.  "Sir, I await your further 
orders."
     Vengar had already formulated a plan when he had sent Addison out 
to protect the Baron in the first place.  With the commotion and the 
information that he had brought back to him, he had been busily revising 
it when the lieutenant asked for instructions.  He turned to him, and 
said, "Lieutenant, I am afraid that what I must do I must do alone.  
While I have full confidence in you and your men, I am afraid that the 
next course of action calls for stealth and secrecy, and you know as 
well as I that the more people involved in such an endeavor, no matter 
how skilled, the greater the chance that it will fail.
     "There is, however, something that I think you will be able to do.  
Behind me at the table where Therion and Elana had been sitting, you 
will see an elven male.  His name is Lorendil.  He has recruited for us 
a mercenary woman named Niari, and she is currently on her way back to 
Montfort after recruiting a mercenary force to aid in the defense of 
Chadwick.  I want you to remain in contact with him, and to join with 
the forces that Niari is bringing."  Vengar's suspicions of mercenaries 
began to show.  "You are not to take orders from the mercenaries, Niari, 
or Lorendil.  Remember, you are soldiers of the Homeguard of Chadwick!  
You defend the interests of Chadwick and its Baron, Lord Therion!  These 
should be the same interests that Niari and her troops should be 
defending, so it makes sense that you fight together.  But, lieutenant, 
you fight *_independently_* of the mercenaries, understand?  You may 
coordinate, you may even collaborate, but do not yield your autonomy!"
     Addison shifted his weight.  "You want us to fight with 
mercenaries?"  He was as disgusted with the concept as Vengar.
     "I have reason to believe that these will be top-quality fighters.  
I think we share a common perception concerning those who fight for no 
cause but wealth.  I hope that that perception is woefully inaccurate 
with the men Niari will bring us.  You and your men will treat them with 
all the respect they deserve.  I leave the determination of that to 
you...but remember:  your behavior will directly reflect on the Barony 
of Chadwick, and on Lord Therion.  I do not want to hear about any 
lapses in discipline!"
     "Understood, sir," answered Addison.
     Vengar continued, "Now then.  I will be off soon.  When I have 
left, introduce yourself to Lorendil.  Arrange to meet him in the 
morning.  Niari should be back by midday.  I shall meet all of you back 
here at that time.  For tonight, get a room here.  Have the innkeeper 
charge the room to the Baron of Chadwick.  There should not be a 
problem.  Any questions?"
     Addison shook his head, "No, sir."
     "Good."  Vengar stood, and said, "Until the morrow."  He then 
strode out of the Inn and into the night air.
     It was very dark (the moon was obscured by clouds), but Vengar 
could barely make out the tracks of the cart wheels from the light 
leaking out of the Inn's windows.  He quickly dashed into the shadows at 
the very edge of the street, and followed the tracks through town, 
dashing from one dark spot to another.  After several minutes, he came 
to a point where the tracks turned to go through a gate and continued on 
into a compound.  The compound was that of the Church of the Redeemer.  
Vengar considered scaling the wall that surrounded the church, but 
decided against it...he was dealing with unknown powers, and they might 
be able to detect such an intrusion.  Instead, he busied himself scoping 
out the place, making his way around the entire perimeter, noting 
entrances and exits, avenues of approach, covering terrain, open terrain 
that would be vulnerable to cross, and other factors that would be 
important to a military mind.  Having surveyed the perimeter once, he 
circled again, and again, and again.  He continued to patrol the area, 
watching for activity, both routine and abnormal...and also for any sign 
of the Baron.  Vengar maintained his vigil until the next morning, until 
the time he had to return to the Inn to meet Lorendil, Niari, and 
Addison.
---m

     Lorendil was not at all pleased with the turn of events.  There was 
the battle outside.  He could not tell what had transpired, but the 
group of humans that had been sent out by the Quiet One had returned, 
and one was talking with him now.  Even with the hush that had descended 
on the Inn after all that had transpired, Lorendil could not make out 
what was being said...not with his natural hearing, anyway.  He dared 
not use any kind of magic, for fear that its discover would bring the 
witch-hunters down upon him sooner rather than later.  He would just 
have to follow the Quiet One's lead.  At any rate, the news did not look 
good.
     The Quiet One gave no lead to follow.  After some conversation, he 
got up and quickly left.  Then, the man he had been talking to got up 
and left the table.  Lorendil quickly lost interest in him as he 
disappeared into the crowd, paying much more attention to the 
Tynntanglian wine that was still sitting at his table.  Such a 
bittersweet occasion this was, having been blessed with the experience 
of such a fine elixir, and then having to watch two worthy people be 
taken into custody for presumably false charges.
     Lorendil was interrupted from his lamentations at the surprising 
appearance of the man the Quiet One had been talking to moinutes before! =
 
(Addison had successfully mixed into the crowd and taken a roundabout 
way to Lorendil's table, in an effort to blur any link between Elana and 
Vengar)  He spoke.  "Excuse me sir.  Am I correct that you are 
Lorendil?"
     The surprises were continuing, but he quickly realized that the 
Quiet One must have sent the man to him.  Answering, he said, "Yes, I 
am.  And you?"
     "Forgive me, lord!  Recent events have put me out of sorts.  I am 
Lieutenant Addison, troop leader of the Home Guard of Chadwick, at your 
service."
     Lorendil nodded and motioned for the lieutenant to sit with him.
     Addison sat down across from Lorendil.  "Sir Vengar has ordered me 
to contact you.  He has told me that you have a band of mercenaries on 
its way to the Inn, to arrive tomorrow noon.  He has asked that my men 
and I join with you and yours, and together to defend the interests of 
Lord Therion and the Barony of Chadwick.  He has also said that he will 
meet us here tomorrow when Lady Niari arrives."
     Lorendil sat, silently pondering the fast moving events.  Finally 
he said, "That is well, but I know not how we are to 'defend the 
interests of Lord Therion' without the guidance of Lord Therion himself. =
 
I shall assume that the Qu..."  Lorendil paused, then remembered 
Vengar's true name, "Sir Vengar will have a plan in the morning?"
     Addison shrugged.  He was too used to follwing orders, rather than 
creating them.
     "Very well, then.  Shall we meet, then, tomorrow at noon?"
     Addison nodded, and got up to tend to his men.
     As the lieutenant was leaving, a thought dawned on Lorendil.  He 
had suspected the possibility that the Dark One was behind all that was 
going on.  He had suddenly remembered that the last time the Dark One 
had surfaced, he had used similar covert tactics to eliminate those who 
he thought would resist him.  Only when all the behind-the-scenes work 
had finally set the stage did he make his appearance.  It had caught 
everyone off-guard, then, and he seemed to be using the same tactic now. =
 
This confirmed it in Lorendil's mind...as far as he was concerned, the 
Dark One was definitely on the rise!  As quickly as his eyes had 
widened, they narrowed as the full realization of the situation 
formulated in his mind.
     Lorendil slipped out of the Inn, disappearing into the night like a 
stone dropped into a dark lake.  There were things that would need to be 
arranged.
---m

     Eldarion awoke with a start.  He looked around, and found that he 
was in his sister's arms.  She was busy bandaging a wound on his arm 
from the night before.  "Hullo, Elana.  I guess I wasn't successful in 
your rescue?"
     Elana smiled at him, and finished bandaging his arm.  "Welcome 
back.  Wish it could have been under more pleasant circumstances.  I saw 
that you found Zeph?"
     Eldarion nodded and sat up, the pain at the back of his head 
causing him to wince.  He looked around at the holding cell around him, 
and at the manacles around his wrists.  They had runes inscribed around 
them.  He looked up, and noticed the man who had been arrested with his 
sister from the night before sitting across the cell ministrating to 
another poor soul.  Eldarion looked to his sister and nodded in the 
man's direction.
     "Baron Therion of Chadwick.  He is a friend.  We were talking 
together about getting you some help against Soros when the witch 
hunters came for me.  He got in their way and tried to protect me."
     Eldarion nodded, and remembered the witch hunters. "What is 
*_that_* all about, anyway.  Since when were you a witch?"
     Elana proceeded to tell Eldarion about what had happened since 
their separation.  She told him about her mysterious loss of powers, and 
he told her of what Garrison had said about that.  About her 'negative' 
power.  She was silent as she thought that out, and told her brother she 
needed time to think.
     Eldarion nodded, and walked over to the man who had tried to help 
his sister.  "Baron Therion, I am Captain Eldarion Elessidel.  I thank 
you for what you attempted to do for my sister.  I..."  Eldarion stopped 
speaking when he noticed the uniform on the one Therion was trying to 
help.  He had been beaten, and blood stained what was left of the 
uniform, but Eldarion knew it just the same.  A Sanjentor scout!
     Eldarion knelt beside Therion and said in the elven tongue, "Scout, 
who are you and why are you here?"
     The elf opened the one eye he could and saw Eldarion before him.  
He seemed to wince in pain and spat blood into Eldarion's face, 
"uur...So now you would try to look like a...Legentor Captain, eh!  Its 
of no use.  I'll tell you nothing.  Nothing..."  The scout lapsed back 
into unconciousness, and Eldarion wiped the blood from his face.  Once 
the blood was gone, Therion could see that there was a grave look on the 
Legentor's face.  "Who has done this!  Who are these *_strahka_* that 
have imprisoned us!  By what right do they do these things!"
     Elana approached from behind her brother and put her hands on his 
shoulders.  "They are religious fanatics, as I have told you!"  She 
pointed to the scout.  "His name is Jal-al Galadon.  He was sent here 
looking for us.  Eventyne is worried.  He has sent out the scout corp to 
try and find us."
     "Jal-al said that he was captured two days ago, accused of 
witchcraft and murder.  He was of course guilty of neither."  She said, 
pulling her brother up until they were both standing.
     She faced him, and pointed at the manacles at his wrist.  "Hold 
those up, I want to try something based on what you've told me."  
Eldarion did as she asked, and held the manacles up towards her. Elana 
layed hold of the manacles with both hands, and after a moment, they 
fell from Eldarion's wrists.  She then repeated the process with the 
manacles on Therion and the wounded scout.
---je
     Therion chaffed his wrists and thanked Elana...matters were better, 
now!
---d
     "Well, that's something at least!  Too bad the lock on the cell is 
mechanical.  I wonder how far this nullifying field goes?" she said, 
after examining the door to their cell.
     She walked to the farthest corner of the cell, and Eldarion and 
Therion both suddenly grinned.  Eldarion held up his hand, and it had a 
faint purple glow to it.  He pointed toward the huge locks on the door 
and let loose a forcebolt, but barely a spark issued forth.
     "I can still feel it draining, but definately not as much.  If only 
we could get you a little farther away!" Turning to Therion, he asked, 
"How about you.  Can you do anything?"
---je
     Therion thought for a moment, then said, "Perhaps...perhaps I can." =
 
Closing his eyes in deep concentration for a few seconds, he smiled 
grimly and said, "It appears our captors have placed their faith in iron 
bars and manacles.  With a spot of luck, we may yet escape being burned 
by these fanatics.  The guards will enter soon...Elana, please do not 
come near me or them for a short while."
     As Therion continued to concentrate, the sound of a hymn to the 
Redeemer could be heard in the outside corridor.  The grate of a key in 
the lock filled the cell, followed by the working of the lock.  Two 
guards came in and said to vacant air, "Baron, we didn't want you to go 
to the Redeemer without hearing the Law.  We brought a book of the Law 
with us, so you could learn the Way."  The two paused, as if listening 
to a response, then continued, "Why yes, the Proctor might show you 
mercy if you renounced your evil ways...".  One of them then walked over 
to a corner and lay down while the other continued to discuss the many 
good points of the Church.  He then yawned, and said to a different bit 
of vacant air, "Thanks for coming to relieve me.  Proctor's ghost, I'm 
tired!" as he handed Therion the keys to the cell.
     The second guard joined the first, asleep in a corner of the cell.  
Therion held a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for quiet, 
then handed the keys to Eldarion...
---d
     Eldarion took the keys from Therion.  He walked back to where the 
guards lay sleeping and slowly drew their short swords and daggers.  He 
stealthily walked back towards Therion and offered him one of the 
swords.  He then tossed one of the daggers to Elana, whose elven 
reflexes were up to the task.  She snatched the dagger in midair.  
Sticking the dagger in her belt, she walked over to help Therion lift 
the wounded Jal'al.
     Eldarion then led the way out of the cell, followed by Therion and 
Elana, both supporting Jal-al.  Eldarion then closed the door to the 
cell and used the keys to lock it.  They looked around at the outside of 
the cell, and saw many implements of torture strewn about.  There was a 
rack, an iron maiden, as well as several other items Eldarion did not 
recognize.  He turned towards his companions and whispered, "What kind 
of church *_is_* this, anyway?"
     They made their way past the torture equipment, and came to an 
guard room.  Strange.  The room was empty.  Though there were beds for 
five, there were only the two guards that Therion had put to sleep.  The 
church must be short of manpower for some reason.
     They continued past the guardroom and found the stone steps leading 
up to the next level.  Here they found another door with a small window 
with iron bars.  Eldarion told his companions to wait at the bottom of 
the stairs, then stealthily made his way up the stairs to the door.  He 
was about to try out the keys in the door, when he noticed the keyhole 
was glowing green.  He carefully looked through the bars of the small 
window.  It was dark out there, and even his elven night sight couldn't 
see anything.  He looked back down and motioned for Therion and Elana to 
join him.  The two slowly made their way up.  Once they got near 
Eldarion, he looked again at the lock and noticed that the green glow 
had gone away.  This handicap of his sister's was proving pretty handy!
     He opened the door, and was surprised by the amount of light 
streaming into the stairwell.  There, flanked on both sides with 
crossbowmen, stood Proctor John.  Upon seeing Elana, the Proctor stepped 
back until his Inquisitors were well before him.  He then gave them all 
a wicked smile.  "And just where did my special guests think they were 
going?  Don't you like your accomodations?"
     He sneered at Therion.  "Your mind may be shielded, but theirs are 
not.  I would definately think about that next time."  He then commanded 
his men, "Disarm them, put them back into their cell.  All except for 
the murderer.  His time has come!"
     The crossbowmen moved forward and made a motion with their 
crossbows.  The three dropped what weapons they had, and the Inquisitors 
moved forward.  They took Jal-al from Therion and Elana, and brought him 
back upstairs. The rest moved Eldarion, Elana and Therion back into the 
cell.  From orders given them by the Proctor, they placed 'new' manacles 
on the three, ones with both magical and mundane locks.  They then 
helped their sleeping comrades out of the cell, and closed the door 
behind them.  Once the door was secured, Proctor John came up to it and 
called in to them, "Your brother warlock is being taken to his final 
judgement with the Redeemer.  Your questioning will begin in the 
morning.  Pleasant dreams, and may the Redeemer have mercy on your 
souls."
     As the footsteps of the Proctor and his men drew away, Eldarion 
turned to Therion and Elana. "Well, any other ideas?"
---je
     Therion sat silently for a time, then replied, "Perhaps...perhaps 
there is something we could do.  A small experiment;  and, if it should 
fail, we will have lost nothing.  Let us huddle close together, and with 
Elana's remarkable ability, the interference of these cursed shackles 
can be removed.  We can take a short journey to a more pleasing place, 
and there we may find another possibility..."
---d

     It was not long into Vengar's vigil of the church that there became 
something to watch.  Drawn to the activity, the fighter silently crept 
closer for a better view, careful not to compromise his whereabouts.
---m
     A crowd had gathered on the Avenue of Triumph.  It was there, in 
the middle of the broad street, between the Church of the Redeeemer and 
the civil Courthouse, that a huge pile of wood had been gathered.  A 
long, sturdy stake had been secured at the top of the pile.
     The crowd roared, as Inquisitors of the church led the prisoner 
out.  They had cleaned him up, and he now wore nothing but a white 
shift.  The crowd jeered at the prisoner, and threw rotting vegetables 
as he was led up some roll-away stairs, and secured to the stake.  
Proctor John then came out of the church courtyard, resplendant in his 
white and gold robes.
---je
     Vengar carefully and frantically scrutinzed the prisoner.  He was 
able to quickly recognize that it was not Therion, nor was it the elven 
woman he had been speaking to.  But there had been talk about her having 
a brother.
---m
     Proctor John walked up to the pile of wood.  He waited for his 
Inquisitors to come down, and then walked up the stairs himself.  When 
he was halfway up, he turned, and his Inquisitors moved the stairs from 
the huge pile of wood.
     "My faithful!  You have been called to bear witness to the 
cleansing justice of the Redeemer!  You see before you the first who 
will pay for his crime of cavorting with devils and demons.  He has 
confessed, praise be the Redeemer, he has confessed."  Only a few 
noticed the elf tied to the stake was shaking his head no.  "...He has 
confessed to the murder of a poor woman in the forest!  He has confessed 
to being a warlock, and signing pacts with evil powers.  His confessions 
will save his soul, but his body must be burned away by the cleansing 
fire so his soul may reach the Redeemer.  Stop your cat-calls I say!  
This man shall be blessed once he has paid for his sins!"
     Proctor John nodded, and one of his Inquisitors threw a torch on 
the pile of wood.  It took a few moments, but soon the pile was a holy 
conflagration.  As the watching crowd stood mesmerized, the flames 
reached the elf tied to the stake.  At first the elf did not scream, but 
soon the pain overcame him, and he wailed into the night.  It was then 
that the single black arrow pierced his chest, and he slumped into the 
tongues of flame.  Everyone turned to Proctor John and were surprised at 
the sight of him also clutching an arrow, which had sped at him, but had 
been miraculously caught in midair.
---je
     Vengar had instinctively dropped to the ground when he heard the 
bowstring, and an instant later he realized how quiet that sound had 
been...no one else had probably heard it, and indeed, from the actions 
of the others in the area, they hadn't.
     Seeing that the first arrow was shot in mercy, and the second in 
malice, Vengar decided the bowman was probably fighting on his side.  He 
quickly glanced to the location from which he thought he had heard the 
bowshots originate.  At the top of a house, he saw a lone elven woman, 
using the peak of the gable for cover.
---m
     As the Inquisitors looked around them at the surrounding buildings, 
Lanceleader Joreen Lar Sandor pulled her bow back and ducked on the 
other side of the peak of the rooftop from where she had watched it all. =
 
A single tear streamed down her face.
---je
     "Oh, were there but more of us here," Vengar thought to himself.  
But this appeared to be an isolated attack, and for him to raise up in 
arms at this time would surely jeopardize his mission to the Baron.  No, 
this time discretion would be the better part.  Vengar left the scene of 
the execution, and continued his vigil of the church.  It would not be 
long before he would leave to rejoin Lorendil at the Inn.  It could not 
come sooner.
---m
     The arrow that sped out of the darkness surprised Proctor John, and 
he just caught it in time.  Not that it would have hurt him at any rate. =
 
But someone had also prematurely ended the suffering of the Tynntanglian 
scout!  He would find whomever had robbed him of this delight and make 
him pay!
     He came down the stairs and his Inquisitors surrounded him 
protectively.  They all made their way back into the courtyard of the 
church.  Proctor John turned to his Inquisitors.  "First, go out and 
assure my faithful that I am fine.  The divine protection of the 
Redeemer enabled me to stop the assassin's blow.  Next, find out who 
did...*_that_*!"  He shook with rage.  "The next time we have a 
cleansing, I want my Inquisitors on the rooftops of all the surrounding 
buildings.  We will move up the cleansing of the remaining three 
prisoners to tommorrow night.  Unfortunately for their souls, this will 
not give us time to seek their confessions!  Now go, make the assurances 
to the crowd and disperse them!"
     Proctor John stormed back to his chambers.  So much to do and so 
little time to do it!  He would have to find a replacement for Deacon 
Gerrard as soon as possible.  He also needed a viable captain of the 
Inquisitors.  Filling these positions would enable Proctor John to focus 
his attention on more...enjoyable aspects of his calling.
---je

     Therion lay down and marshalled his strength.  The three prisoners 
were soon asleep, yet their minds were fully conscious; they stood 
together on a beach.  The beach was them same locale Therion had first 
introduced Vengar to, some time ago...yet, with his reduced strength due 
to Elana, there were differences.  The light was dim, the sea stagnant 
and dead, the air smelled not of salt spray but rather felt heavy, 
sullen, and lifeless.  An old bell hung precariously in a weathered 
belfry, and from it hung a rotten rope.  Therion tugged on the rope, and 
a dull, muffled sound emitted from the bell, carrying across the sea.  
He hoped it would touch Vengar or Lorendil's minds....
---d
     It was quite a night of activity!  Vengar's patrolling of the 
churchyards was punctuated by the occasional flash of activity as 
Inquisitors came and went, hurrying to different parts of the city and 
back again.  And there were other characters seeking an audience with 
this Proctor John.  It was a long night, and without knowledge about the 
fate of Baron Therion, the night got longer.
     Vengar heard a distant bell tolling in the night, and thought 
little of it.  But then the familiar image of his mindscape seemed to be 
trying to superimpose itself on his normal vision, and this made him 
take notice.  He closed his eyes and concentrated on the image.  But 
there were problems.  It was as if he were viewing it from a great 
distance, or through a window or spyglass.  The scene was very dim, and 
distorted.  There was no sound, or even smell Vengar noticed, as there 
had always been in the past.  He concentrated harder, trying to solidify 
the image, but to no avail.  After a few moments, it began to wither and 
fade into nothingness.  Still, it was indisputable evidence that the 
Baron was still alive!  Vengar's hope was put in check by a sobering 
thought...and that was the thought that maybe the image was triggered by 
the sudden release of a great amount of raw mind magic...the type of 
release that might accompany death.  He refused to believe this, and 
continued on the thought that the Baron was alive.
     When morning finally dawned, he began to disengage from his vigil 
at the church, careful again as discovery now would be just as dangerous 
as at any time during the watch.  Once he had succeeded in getting away, 
he made his way for the Inn.  He hoped that Niari was a little generous 
with her time estimates, and that she would return to Montfort earlier 
than noon.
---m

     Lorendil was sitting by himself in the common room, having just 
returned from his "errands", when Hugh dropped by.
     "After what just went on, I thought you might be interested in a 
little clandestine meeting this evening."
     Lorendil was surprised at the bartender's words, but nodded his 
approval.
     Hugh then told Lorendil where it was to be held.  He then placed 
another glass of Tynntanglian wine on the table and said in a louder 
voice (but not so loud as to draw attention), "If there's anything else 
I can bring ye, just holler!"
     Lorendil felt himself being drawn into a deeper intrigue.  Instinct 
barked in his mind, telling him not to get involved.  But another voice 
was crying out, and this voice was urging him to action.  Things were 
quickly coming to a head, and there would be need for many allies in the 
fast-approaching battle with the Dark One.  Besides, what was the harm 
in a meeting?  He would not be committed at that point, there would be 
no decisive action taken.  Also, it might provide some insight into the 
fate and whereabouts of the Strong One, and how to extricate him from 
said plight.  He decided he would attend.

     When the time came, Lorendil arrived at the designated place.  The 
room was small and well hidden, and he thought to himself that this was 
good.  What an asset Hugh had in a hidden conference room!
     There were already a number of people there.  It was very crowded, 
and this pleased Lorendil.  Those aligned against the evil forces 
plaguing the lands would need all the numbers they could muster.  He did 
not speak, but let others do so.  There were many who had issues to 
raise.  Many dealt with the greater threat of the Church of the 
Redeemer, but there were a few voices that sought help in rescuing those 
who had been taken.  Lorendil was not sure, but he thought the faces 
seemed oddly familiar.  Had he seen them somewhere before, somewhere 
quite recently?  He would have to start paying more attention.
     As the meeting was beginning to adjourn, and the people began to 
slip out in small numbers, he noticed a group at a table discussing 
something with a great intensity.  They spoke in hushed voices, and as 
such he could not make out what they were saying.  Curious, even with 
his draconian hearing he could make out nothing...was there magic at 
play?  Lorendil decided that he would be one of the last to leave, and 
give himself the opportunity to observe further this band who had called 
for the rescue of those taken captive earlier.
---m

     The man known to himself as Bonedancer approached the doors of the 
magnificent church.  Proctor John had entered some time ago, and now 
various parts of the crowd were moving in and out of the church in order 
to worship, all under the watchful eye of several robed monks.
     Passing into the church, Bonedancer allowed himself to be pushed 
off to one side by those more eager to reach the altar, and as soon as 
he found himself shadowed by one of the great pillars he moved out of 
the main hall and into the less populated areas of the church.
     Making his way slowly through the beautiful interior of the church, 
he often had to hide from the wandering monks of the order.  After about 
two-hours worth of effort, he finally managed to find a descending 
stairway that didn't lead to a wine cellar, larder, or storage room.  
The stairway, lit only intermittently at this late hour, had the odor of 
damp, rot, and the slightly metallic stench of blood, things he sensed 
more than actually smelled.
     Moving very slowly, his posture screaming wariness, he descended 
the stairs, his feet making next to no noise, and his breath utterly 
silent.  Reaching a door at the base of the stairway, he studied the 
lock a moment, then pulled a set of lockpicks out of his cloak.  His 
thin gloved hands selected one, and with quiet precision inserted it 
into the lock, only to have the pick ejected from the lock along with a 
small bolt of electricity.
     Jerking in surprise, he cursed, "Bespelled, the guards will be here 
any minute."  Still cursing under his breath, he slid his right sleeve 
up to expose an ornate bracer on his fore arm, which he pressed against 
the lock.  With a bang, the lock exploded and Bonedancer opened it 
quickly, only to come face to face with the men standing guard over the 
prisoners.  Their drawn swords gave him pause, but hearing commotion at 
the top of the stairs, he moved in quickly with drawn daggers, kicking 
the door shut behind him.
     Throwing one of his daggers took out one of the two guards, but 
that left him open to the closer guard, who aimed a blow at Bonedancer's 
chest, under his raised left arm.  The blow hit true, and kept going 
almost unimpeded, until it reached Bonedancer's spine, where it lodged.  
The surprised guard never even saw the dagger coming as it plunged into 
his heart.
     Letting the body fall, the dagger still in it's chest, Bonedancer 
yanked the sword from his body, raised a hand to his hood in a gesture 
of silence, and moved into an empty cell.  As the sounds from the stairs 
got louder, he threw off his cloak, revealing the human skull that was 
his head, as well as the clothes that hung upon his too thin body.  Once 
more raising his hand to his grinning visage, he collapsed against the 
wall of the cell, his clothes becoming tattered rags, just as the door 
to the dungeon burst open and guards rushed in.
---jsf

     "...and see to it that the horses assigned to Inquisitor Bender and 
his company are returned to the stables."
     "Yes, Deacon Thai."
     Deacon Thai rounded another corner as she and her accompanying 
guards wound ever deeper into the soil of Ifreann.  She held the hem of 
her spotless black over-robes (enchanted of course) away from the stone 
steps until they reached the lowest level.
     "A notice is to be drawn up demanding the return of Inquisitor 
Bender in case he has been kidnapped, and be sure to mention the wrath 
of the Church when you do."
     "Yes, Deacon Thai."
     A pained look rippled across the perfect features of Deacon Thai as 
she heard her new title for the forty-seventh time in the past hour.  
"Deacon Thai" wondered if that was why Deacon Gerrard, her predecessor, 
had taken a sword in the chest for Proctor John.  At this rate, she was 
considering it herself.
     Thai and the scribe stopped to allow the guards to open the last 
door.  Lord Therion, Elana Elessidel, and Eldarion, the condemned witch 
and warlocks, would no doubt be pleased at the distraction of her visit. =
 
Idly, Thai wondered if they even knew of their execution... cleansing... 
mere hours away...
     The guards before her drew their weapons, snapping Thai from her 
thoughts.  "Deacon Thai, the door lock has been broken."
     "What?"  The Inquisitors made a path through their ranks for Thai 
as she went straight for the door. "Semareth!"  Thai called silently, 
"Security has been breached in the dungeons.  Report immediately!"
     Thai followed the inquisitors down the steps, walking quickly but 
not so fast as to run into a trap.
     The guards threw open the door to the prisoners=C6 cell.  Thai 
stepped over the dead but still bleeding guards and swept into the 
doorway to search the small room hastily with her eyes.
     On the floor, Baron Therion and the elves looked surprised, but 
present.  Therion glowed green, and Elana glowed not at all.  Both her 
companion's auras were dimmed.  They really were still here.
     "Search this entire dungeon, starting with guards on the stairs.  
Anyone still here, stays."  Inquisitors fanned out back up the hall into 
an efficient search pattern.  Six stood ready at the top of the stairs 
with the closed door at their backs.
     Still watching the prisoners, Thai knelt by one guard and splayed 
her fingers across his terrified face. Signals flared from her other 
hand as she read the memories of his last few moments.  A cloak, and 
skeletal ribs.  Daggers.  Disgusted, Thai made a blessing motion and 
stood.
     "The Redeemer has accepted his soul.  The one responsible for his 
sacrifice is an unholy creature of the dead.  It wears a cloak to 
disguise its true nature, and carries daggers.  Search the cells 
thoroughly."
     Thai turned back to the prisoners.  Alone for a moment with them, 
Thai's unearthly beauty twisted into something demonic.
     "Neither your minion nor your allies will help you now, and you 
will shortly be as dead as it once was. Prepare to die for the glory of 
the Redeemer..."
---pw
     Therion looked at Thai, noticed her fury at the death of the guards 
and the rescue attempt, and concluded that matters probably couldn't get 
any worse.  He was well aware of how to control pain...and, if need be, 
to sever the cord that bound his spirit to his body.
     He waited for her first outburst to subside, then laughed at her, 
commenting, "We all know your plans for us...and how you plan to kill 
us.  Did you not think I would recognize the energy that left the elf 
your Proctor John murdered, as it fled his body?"
     "It may be that your Redeemer will win;  if that be the case, death 
will be sweet release.  But you should have a care, for such tyrants as 
your Proctor John will fail, if not today, then tomorrow."
---d
     Thai looked at Therion as she would a bug, or cadaver, and magic 
spelled around her fingers. Only Therion could see her actions.
     "I've always despised lords and ladies who attain their position by 
birthright *_Lord_* Therion. Not having been born into your lofty 
station, I hope you'll allow me to take great pleasure in causing you 
pain, and may the Redeemer take your soul as a plaything."
---pw
     Eldarion moved forward to stand by Therion's side.  Should these 
black-clad monsters attempt to attack his new friend, he would quickly 
add his weight to the skirmish.  After all, 'twas far better to die in 
the heat of battle, then to be burned to death.  Eldarion would much 
prefer death in battle!  If only he could do something about Elana's 
being here.
---je
     "Poor deluded fool," Thai thought, watching Eldarion's face.  
"Heroic to the last."
---pw
     Eldarion intended to stare down their jailers, but was quite 
surprised when his eyes locked with the woman in the cell.  He seemed 
lost in those eyes, so deep....so deep....
---je
     Thai gazed back, wondering how far under he would go.  Therion was 
immune, but Eldarion... A hint of a smile illuminated her beauty like a 
stained glass window.
---pw
     Therion felt the hatred from Thai increase and as she turned away 
to listen to Eldarion, saw in her mind the image of one she cared about 
being brought through the gates of the Church and thrown into a dungeon.
     The vindictiveness of her mind belied the soft voice and enchanting 
beauty that was ensnaring his companion while he saw into her soul.
     Therion nudged Eldarion...
---pw
     Eldarion was startled by the nudge from Therion.  "She's entralling 
you, and there's magic involved.  Stand firm!" he whispered.  Eldarion 
was surprised.  He was not used to such things, as he had carried his 
sword of Xeen for a very long time.  The sword protected him from such 
magics, and he was not used to dealing with such subtle attacks without 
it.
---je
     Thai glanced at Therion and back at Eldarion, considering her 
partial success and how to further it.
---pw
     The woman gave Eldarion a slight smile.  "Too bad the Proctor has 
already sentenced you.  I think you could have made a great servant to 
the church.  After all, we both want the same thing - the total 
eradication of evil from the world."
     Eldarion thought about her words...yes, they were kind of on the 
same side, weren't they?  I would really like to get to know her 
bet...*_What am I saying_*?!?  Eldarion shook his head.  He looked back 
at the woman, who let out a soft, musical laugh as she closed the cell 
door behind her. "Until tommorrow night, then.  We have a date...try not 
to be late!"  Her laughter got louder, and was soon joined by that of 
the leader of the black-clad ones.
---je
     With the sound came a resurgence of his twisted emotions. Therion 
*_was_* wrong. She was just misguided...
---pw
     Both Therion and Eldarion visibly relaxed.  Eldarion turned and 
looked at his sister, leaning against the back wall of the cell.  He was 
about to ask her how she was holding up, when he felt a familiar 
presense.  "Garrison?!"  He looked about, as if he expected the druid to 
suddenly appear in the cell with them.  But as quick as the presense was 
felt it was gone.
     Eldarion turned to Therion.  "So what do you suppose *_that_* was 
all about?" he said, nodding towards the door and the since-departed 
Deacon and Chief Inquisitor.
---je
     Therion replied, "No doubt they wish to torment us, as is usual 
when a coward gains power over others.  The abuse validates what power 
they have in their own eyes...but, the irony is, they will never be able 
to trust each other."
     He leaned back, considering his contacts with Vengar...and the wave 
of power he, too, had felt...then said, "I do not think we have been 
forgotten.  Perhaps there is yet a card or two that may be played.  
Eldarion, do you remember when the Proctor arrested us?  And, do you 
recall when his mind and mine touched, to his great discomfort?  I 
sensed something very unusual...the Proctor is more than a man; there is 
a powerful evil about him that transcends the mortal.  I doubt we can 
save ourselves, but perhaps we can strike a blow at the end.  Even with 
these shackles, I am not entirely shorn of power...if you, Eldarion, 
could taunt the Proctor...anger him, so that he loses control...then, I 
believe I could touch his mind, and cause the illusion he projects to 
drop for an instant."
     "And, in any case...better to go with a fight, rather than a 
whimper!"
---d

     Deacon Thai's enchanting laughter trailed off into giggles and then 
smiles.
     "Oh, Semareth!  Did you see him?  I couldn't believe it."  Her 
smiles faded at last as they walked up the stone steps.  "Have him 
brought to my room in a little while.  We may yet be able to turn him if 
Therion isn't around to disturb things and that witch can't damp out the 
enchantments Proctor John gave me."
     Thai smiled, thinking deeply.  "After Eldarion is taken away, have 
the guards tell Therion that his old friend has been arrested for 
consorting with warlocks, namely him, and is being tortured for the good 
of his soul.  He too is to be cleansed."
     As Thai left the dark corridors behind she assumed a serene 
expression belied by her vindictive eyes. "Baron Therion will rue the 
day he laughed at me.  I swear to make his life hell until the Redeemer 
sucks in his soul to be tortured forever."
---pw
     Therion was duly informed that his old friend, Mark Alessio...a man 
in his sixties with a wry sense of humor, who owned a small bakery in 
Chadwick...had been arrested, and was being tortured.  Mark, who had 
often opposed Therion over a chess board, and who had won more than his 
share of games!  The same Mark who had always been there when Therion 
needed a friend to confide in.  And, trapped as he was...he could do 
nothing;  truly, death would be a release from this hell.  Still, 
Therion was not finally trapped;  for his magic depended not on power, 
but rather on the quiet redirection of forces.
     Therion decided to act according to the role his captors had 
envisioned.  He fainted, and lay quite unconscious upon the floor of the 
cell. The guards soon tired of the game, for Therion's body remained 
immobile even as some of the countless insects within the dank room 
crawled over him.  Surely, he must be unconscious, a weak-spined fop of 
the upper crust, unable to endure adversity!  The guards laughed, then 
departed, for they certainly saw no reason to call aid for this 
miserable warlock!
     While his body was deeply asleep, his mind was active and alert.  
Between Elana's effects and the shackles, he had little power;  yet, 
there were some things that required little effort, but might produce a 
great effect.  Therion focused on Eldarion, and touched his mind.  He 
tightened the focus, and deepened his awareness, so that he heard and 
saw that which the elf sensed.  Normally, he could have easily wrested 
control of the elf's body from the other's mind, but he had not the 
strength.  It did not matter, for Therion could do something far more 
effective...he could help Eldarion to remember.  And, as Proctor John, 
Thai, and all their cruel minions tried to bend Eldarion's will to their 
cause, the elf remembered...remembered the arrest...the burning of the 
scout...the freedom, now threatened, of Tynntangial...
     In the cell, Therion's body began to cool...
---d
     Elana was quite worried.  Her brother had been taken out of the 
cell, and now the gentleman who had tried so hard to help her lay on the 
floor, looking for all the world, dead!
     She had already gone over to try to help him once, but he'd felt so 
cold.  She thought that the best thing that she could do for him was to 
stay as far away as possible, lest her null drain some spell he was 
attempting.  But the longer she sat in the far corner of the cell, the 
more afraid for Therion she became.
     She looked down at the manacles clasped at her wrists.  The anti-
magic part of her manacles was itself cancelled out by her null.  But 
the physical steel locks, well...if only Zeph were here.  Much as she 
hated admitting it, her cousin's "talent" for thievery would be most 
welcome right now.
     Eldarion was taken up the stairs for a "meeting" with this Deacon 
Thai.  He didn't know why *_he_* had been selected for this special 
treatment, but he was glad that he was not alone.  Somehow, Therion had 
managed to join him in his head.  Normally, Eldarion did not understand 
mind magic, and was glad his sword usually protected him from such (at a 
cost), but for now, he welcomed his new friend's presence 
wholeheartedly.
     "Trust in me, and everything will be all right," Therion thought to 
Eldarion.
     Eldarion shuddered a bit, still not used to this mind-speak Therion 
was using.  Still, as a soldier, Eldarion thought of the value such a 
thing would have in battle.  He would have to speak to Therion about it 
later.  As he was thinking this, he also wondered, since Therion was 
currently present in his mind, did he (Therion) know what he was 
currently thinking about, thus negating the need to talk to him in the 
future?
     Therion managed to enter Eldarion's mind.  What he found there was 
odd.  What seemed like a wall, blocking something off, was in place.  
The strange thing was there wasn't anything being blocked.  The 
*_other_* strange thing was what could only be explained as a 
"connection" to something.  Something or someone had established a 
permanent mental bond with Eldarion.  Things kept getting stranger.
     The guards led him up the stairs and down a hall.  Eldarion found 
it hard to concentrate on anything with Therion's presence also in his 
mind.  He was not sure what Therion had in store for the Deacon, but he 
*_did_* know he had a surprise or two of his own.  While still in the 
cell, Elana had drained the manacles placed on the three of arcane 
energy again.  They were still securely restrained, but now that he was 
away from his sister, he knew his meager arsenal of spells were ready to 
go.  If he had to, he could use his forcebolts to shatter the locks on 
the manacles (he would have to be very careful to try to limit the 
amount of damage he would do to his own wrists).
     The group stopped in front of an ornately carved door.  One of the 
guards knocked.  "Deacon Thai, we have the warlock prisoner you wanted," 
he called through the door.
     The door opened and Eldarion again saw the woman who had so 
intrigued him earlier in his cell.  This time she was dressed in soft, 
flowing robes of gold and white.  She was very beautiful, in a dark sort 
of way.  Beautiful and dangerous, just like Joreen.  Joreen.  As a 
matter of fact, this Deacon looked *_very_* much like the female 
Legentor.  The raven hair, the deep, twin pools of her eyes, even her 
slender pointed elven ears, she was like nothing...
     "ELDARION!!  This woman is *_not_* of elven kind!  She is not this 
Joreen who is so prevelant in your mind!  Close your eyes again, hold 
for a moment, then open them and see her as she truely is."
     Eldarion did as he was told, and when he opened his eyes again, the 
elven features which had begun to seem to be a part of Deacon Thai were 
gone.  She *_was_* beautiful, but not the type of natural, elven beauty 
that Eldarion favoured.
     Her face changed from a look of welcome, to a look of fury.  Her 
hands began to glow with a greenish light, and she made a movement with 
them.  Eldarion was lifted from his feet by unseen hands gripping his 
throat.  As he was struggling in the air, he was about to unleash his 
own forcebolts at the now smiling Deacon, when a voice called out from 
down the hall.  "THAI, RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!"
     Eldarion fell to the polished marble floors with a thump.  He 
looked up and saw that Deacon Thai had her full attention at the 
similarly robed man coming towards them.  Eldarion recognized him from 
the night that this church had come to the inn to arrest his sister.
     "You would rob the Redeemer from a chance to forgive this elf for 
his crimes?  I do *_not_* think this is in the interests of the church.  
It is time.  His cleansing time is come."  Turning to the guards, the 
man ordered them to take the prisoner to the courtyard, where his 
companions would soon be joining him for their final journey of this 
world...to the Cleansing!
     The man turned back to Thai, who immediately apologized to him, 
asking the Proctor for his forgiveness.  Proctor?!  *_This_* was the one 
man who was fully responsible for all the ills they had suffered in the 
last couple of days.  Without a second thought, Eldarion raised his 
hands.  "PROCTOR!!!"
     Proctor John turned, and was struck full in the chest by forcebolt 
after forcebolt.  As each of the purple bolts struck him, he staggered 
backward until he fell in a heap on the floor.  Deacon Thai raised her 
hand, and Eldarion was propelled into a marble wall, where he stayed 
pinned.
     Though he knew he would soon be killed, Eldarion smiled in 
satisfaction that he had taken out the leader of this evil church.  His 
smile turned to a look of awe as Proctor John picked himself up.  Though 
his robes were blackened and shreaded, the skin underneath looked 
untouched.  Proctor John calmly walked over to the struggling Eldarion 
and placed his cold hand on Eldarion's face.  In grey-elven, he said "A 
most valiant effort, Elessidel.  Now I must go to change my robes, and 
you..."  Proctor John smiled wickedly, "...You, go now to meet your 
ancestors.  I may as well tell you, you will *_not_* be alone for long.  
Tynntangial is finished.  The elven army will soon fall to our might, 
and with it gone, so shall follow the rest of Ifreann!"
     Proctor John could see Eldarion's baffled look, so for the briefest 
of moments, and only to Eldarion, he let his image revert to its true 
form.  Eldarion saw Proctor John as the lord of the Darkguard that he 
was.  He screamed in rage and fury as he was led away, out to the 
courtyards, to meet his fate.
---je
     Therion felt the power released by Thai, as Eldarion's body was 
pinned to the wall...he saw Proctor John's transformation, and heard the 
violent promise to take all of Ifreann.  If only he could reveal Proctor 
John's true form to the rest of the people!
     As Eldarion was led to the fires, Therion brought his focus back to 
his own body.  He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, as he began 
shivering.  The absence of his mind from his own body, coupled with the 
drain of his magic, had brought him very close to the point of no 
return.  Looking toward Elana, Therion said, "It won't be long now.  We 
must prepare ourselves."
     Soon, the guards entered the cell, and roughly took their prisoners 
to the Cleansing.  Despite the conditions, Therion did his best to 
maintain some degree of dignity...
---d