Played on 2004/09/05

As written by the hand of Kheldar

9th Day of Danu, 999 NE

Once again the morning temperature had risen to uncomfortable heights. For this time of the year, this was well past the ridiculous. It should have been near freezing, but instead I awoke to an oppressive heat.

Once again I wondered at the strange company I was in. Many a young man might have envied the position I was in - accompanying four fair maidens (although the term 'fair' can be considered exaggerated in one case, it would not sound like a story if it were stated more precise) and their guardian mother (same consideration applies here). Until of course they would realise that four of my traveling companions were able to wield the One Power. Even without having an inkling of what demands would be asked of them and had be asked of them, most young man would flee from them.

Eadrica Sedai told us she expected that we would arrive at the estate of Lord Gaynor Furlan today. How we would deal with this matter, would weigh in in our appraisal. I am still unsure what appraisal she had planned for Tadra or me, but the three Initiates seemed to take these words to hearth.

After half a day's ride, our little group arrived without incident at the Furlan estate. As we rode through the gate, two Children of the Light jumped up from their chairs and approached us. One commanded us to halt, while the other blew a sharp note on a whistle. "What do you witches seek here?!!", called the first out. Be'hlarah countered by stating that this land was not theirs, and commanded them to leave.

The whistle had evidently had some effect, as six Whitecloaks came storming upons us. Be'hlarah seemed to grow once more to double her size. The eldest White Cloak (the one who had called most of our company "witches") displayed a rare case of being utterly unimpressed by this. He began to speech about that we should leave, that we did not walk in the Light, that we should forsake our ways, that the Light was with them, that if we did not surrender we would soon meet our dark lord, etc. etc.

Of course, Narvin seemed quite tense in this situation. Eleya seemed peaceful and concentrated - which I have come to regard as the prelude to greater events. The Whitecloaks who were storming towards us, seemed to sweat profusely as they came closer - more so then can be explained by the temperature alone, I would venture.

Be'hlarah says "The time has come to remove you" and she and the White Cloak commander (whom was standing in front of her horse) seem to fade. This did nothing, unfortunately, to stop the mans incessant speeching. All Children of the Light are fingering their weapons, but so far it has not come to blows yet and I have good hopes that it might stay like this.

Suddenly, the head of the Child of the Light who was standing in the back erupted in a fountain of blood. A middle-aged man is standing behind him wielding a short sword. He is dressed in a fanciful, colourful attire. Narvin cries out "Father!", jumps of Eleya's horse and runs towards the person who can be none other than Lord Gaynor Furlan.

But his attack provoked the Children into action, and one White Cloak swings his sword at Narvin. By chance or by the Light he misses. I respond by throwing my darts at the attacker. They bounce harmlessly off of his armour. The ladies still present in our company seem engaged in other manners - which probably spells disaster for the Whitecloaks.

Suddenly, the air seems alive with energy. From high above a disturbingly threatening rumble can be heard, and there appears a blade wrought of fire near Tryane. Unfortunately, the Children themselves have also committed fully to the attack, and I bear the brunt of three of them. Bleeding profusely from three different sword strokes, even I cannot miss the thundering impact of a lightning bolD striking down from the dark sky. Yet again I feel the warmth of fire nearby, and I can smell the awful smell of burning flesh before I slip into unconsciousness.

Later, I find myself lying in a comfortable bed in a large and well-furnished bedroom. The deep cuts that marked my body have somehow faded into deep bruises. Although my body feels like it has taken the worst beating of it's life, but apparently (if my memory servers) this is quite preferable to the previous state.

Someone of the staff asked me to attend a dinner with Lord Furlan. The others would be there as well. Dressing myself took some time, as some movements still induced a rather painful experience, but I managed in not too long a time. Lord Furlan was dressed once again in a colourful combination of yellow and blue, which I found to be somewhat over the top for a man of his station.

The Lord opened the dinner by proposing a toast to the success of the day. I felt inclined to forego the drink, but unfortunately the demands of courtesy made this of course an impossibility. The slight amount imbibed had a profound effect: I felt I had lost my coordination. The others were also adversely affected, as evidenced by their actions. Clearly, the wine had been poisoned. I wanted to cry out but felt myself fall once more into a deep slumber.

Unknown, later deduced to be 10th Day of Danu, 999 NE

A low hum woke me. I was startled to find I was tied securely. Glancing left and right, I saw Eleya, Tadra, Be'hlarah and Tryane were similarly indisposed. Eadrica Sedai was missing however. There were four men dressed in heavy cloaks and wearing masks representing goats, chanting. This was clearly a dark ritual! A figure in a dark cloak and dark mask is standing in the centre. By his disposition and his figure, this can be none other than Lord Furlan. I glance left and right, but with everyone tied up, I fear we will not stand a chance. Even though Eleya, Be'hlarah and Tryane are able to wield the One Power.

Calming myself, I manage to undo the rope securing me. The attention of the Darkfriends does not seem to be upon us. Therefore, I quickly turn to undo the bounds of my companions, starting with Eleya's. Luckily, I was not thoroughly searched and thus I can use a dagger from my boot to assist in this. The chanting becomes disharmonied. What the reason for this is I cannot say, but I suspect that one of the Initiates has had a hand in this. I manage to undo them. Then, I quickly and quietly turn to Be'hlarah.

I hear a door opening in the far end of the room. When I turn to look, I see a naked Narvin Furlan being dragged in. "Father, no!", the young boy cries. Suddenly, a dense mist forms in the room. This interference can, of course, not go unnoticed. One of the chanters approaches me with a drawn sword.

The ensuing melee remains quite unclear to me. I dimly recall being struck by a sword and hearing Narvin cry out once more to his father: "Father! Please don't!". A throbbing pain came from my chest, where the sword had struck. I managed to crawl forward, in Narvin's direction, to find the boy tied up to an altar in the front of the room. His father hovered before him, a knife in his hands, poised to strike. Using all my strength, I managed to get onto one knee and with all my might I aimed a blow for Gaynor Furlan's back. I felt the tentive crust of my chestwound give way and my consciousness slipped as I fell to the floor.

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