Ember's Tale 101: Firkraag Revealed

Chapter 101: Firkraag Revealed

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers. In one of the larger chambers, they were approached by two battered and weary-looking men. The men claimed that they had been trapped there for the past four days, and pleaded for aid for their wounded companions.

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

"Sorry, sorry," the man said, and backed slightly away. "But we must hurry!"

"If imbecilic amateurs such as you can last four days here without us," Edwin snapped, "you can last a few moments longer!"

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

"(I warned the fool,)" Edwin muttered smugly as he straightened his robes.

"Why am I not surprised to find the actual werewolves in his employ?" Ember said.

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

"What is in the bag?" Mazzy asked.

Yoshimo grinned. "Trust me."

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

"A little trap I prepared before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

"Very well spent," Ember said. "Come, it can't be much farther now."

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

The other orcs roared with glee as they charged, swords and axes held high. Strong, well-armoured, and eager for a fight, they offered far more of a challenge than the werewolves, and most of the party suffered injuries by the time the last orc was felled; Edwin was only alive thanks to his protective spells, which had absorbed all but two of the blows aimed at him, and Sir Cadril's recently broken shield arm had to be reset before it could be healed again.

"No orc will make stand while Minsc and Boo live!" Minsc bellowed proudly as Anomen closed a gash across his forehead.

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

"They were guarding this door," Mazzy said, standing in front of a double door of iron-bound oak. She gave one of the doors a gentle push; it slid open without as much as a creak, and she peered inside. "I wonder... Oh! Come, my friends!"

On the other side of the door was a room with several lockers and cabinets, and two rows of tables with accompanying benches. A darkened corridor led away from the far corner, and three barred cells lined the opposite wall. Taar was locked inside one of the cells; the boy stared at the group with wild eyes, his hands clenching the iron bars so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Thank the gods!" the boy cried. "Free me and we shall away! Find the mage - he has the key - the locks are magical. Hurry!"

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Sir Cadril stepped forward. "Release the boy at once!"

"He's waiting for you," the mage repeated, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child, and headed back into the darkness, leaving the group with little choice but to follow.

---

The corridor led to a steadily widening flight of steps, which in turn led to a cavern as least as large as the one up near the gates. The cavern floor was almost perfectly smooth and dusted with powdered rock; here and there, the rocks had been melted to a glassy sheen. Numerous fire pots bathed the area in a golden, flickering light and made the patches of glassy rock glitter like jewels.

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

It felt like an eternity before Ember could make her voice work. "Why?" she finally asked. "Why have you forced this confrontation?"

"For my amusement, for my curiosity, and for my memory of transgressions long since past."

"Transgressions? What transgressions?"

"Very well, an in-depth response," Firkraag said, sounding very put upon. "Gorion. He raised you, and was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day, and crossed my path long ago. Him and his Harper friends. I still bear the scars of that meeting." The dragon shifted his wings in annoyance, letting Ember catch a glimpse of a large, jagged scar across his upper torso; from the look of it, his scales had never fully closed over the wound. "He is beyond my revenge, being dead as he is, so I settled for the next best thing. I can torment his spirit by destroying you. Wherever he is, he is seething."

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

"All of this over a grudge with a dead man?" Sir Cadril cried out. "Are you mad?"

The dragon chuckled. "I had toyed with forgetting the transgression, though it has not been that long in dragon terms. After all, her lineage would make an interesting subject to study, or so I thought; I must say I've been disappointed with her progress. Her conflict with Jon Irenicus shows some promise, though."

"I suppose you are league with that sadist, aren't you?" Ember growled. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised!

"I will have no dealings with that creature. I am merely interested in your confrontation with him. It was almost enough incentive for me to leave you be, but when I learned from my werewolves that you had shown yourself in my lands and all but trampled across my doorstep in order to curry favours from the dryad queen, I decided that a lesson was in order. Yes, a lesson; do not glare at me like that, Child. For now, you bore me. I will taunt you no more. You may go."

"We cannot leave without Garren's son," Mazzy said. "You know this."

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

"Make haste!" Anomen cried, and led the group as they ran up the stairs back to the room where Taar was held captive. Conster was waiting for them there, standing calmly in front of the cell where Taar cowered in fear. The mage chanted a few magical syllables as the group approached him. He was not moving his hands, and Ember expected the spell to only be a simple cantrip, but when the chant completed, Yoshimo and Minsc were struck by a bolt of lightning.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin's spell removed several layers of his magical protections. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the protection spells. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

"He has the key?" Mazzy asked Taar, and immediately started searching the fallen mage's robes.

"Yes, look in his pocket... no, the other side...that's it! That's it!" the boy cried, all but weeping with relief at the sight of the small metal key in the halfling's hand. "Oh, thank you! Quick, we must away from this place!"

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. And worse is still to come, I fear. "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

With Yoshimo's lockpicking skill, searching the room was quick work; they found several spellscrolls, some enchanted arrows, and a selection of potions, including a few potions of icedust. She allowed herself a smile as she gathered them up; even as loyal as Firkraag's underlings had been, they clearly hadn't been trusting.

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!!"

"Don't worry, Sir Cadril; I don't think we'll get much of a choice in this matter," Ember said, and started distributing the potions she'd found. "Bored with me or not, we know what he is now. He will not just let us walk out of here alive."

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers.

Last thing I would have expected would've been a used-wagon salesman.

I will not be rushed like a common peasant!

Yes! He is a very uncommon peasant! You would do well to learn your place! Miscreants!

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

Raven: "Claymore! Front towards enemy!"

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Harlequin: "Claymore! Front towards enemy!"

Seraph: "Why do you keep repeating that phrase?"

Harlequin: "It's a mantra. Not that any of us is genuinely stupid enough to accidentally blow ourselves up by pointing a claymore the wrong way, but... still... it's... good to be careful when handling things that go boom like that. Kinda like how they tell you never to take the safeties off your missiles until you're SURE you want to blow up whatever you're pointing them at."

It felt like an eternity before Ember could make her voice work. "Why?" she finally asked. "Why have you forced this confrontation?"

"For my amusement, for my curiosity, and for my memory of transgressions long since past."

Falynn: "Arrogant, underhanded, smug, pompous little bastard."

Imoen: (Falynn-variant) "He's all of those things, all right. Except for maybe the 'little' part."

The dragon chuckled. "I had toyed with forgetting the transgression, though it has not been that long in dragon terms. After all, her lineage would make an interesting subject to study, or so I thought; I must say I've been disappointed with her progress. Her conflict with Jon Irenicus shows some promise, though."

"I suppose you are league with that sadist, aren't you?" Ember growled. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised!

"I will have no dealings with that creature. I am merely interested in your confrontation with him. It was almost enough incentive for me to leave you be, but when I learned from my werewolves that you had shown yourself in my lands and all but trampled across my doorstep in order to curry favours from the dryad queen, I decided that a lesson was in order. Yes, a lesson; do not glare at me like that, Child. For now, you bore me. I will taunt you no more. You may go."

"We cannot leave without Garren's son," Mazzy said. "You know this."

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

Falynn: "Petty, vindictive... ugh, how I hated that annoying, petulant son of a-"

Imoen: "Yeah, yeah, we know... it's ok, he's dead, we had parts of him for breakfast the next morning... and the next... thirty mornings after that... man, I got tired of eating dragon."

Falynn: "I know! But still... God, to do all that just because Gorion honked him off? I'm so glad we got the chance to settle things. That was one -uppity- dragon. Stupid wretch had it coming."

Imoen: "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"

Falynn: "I don't like bullies. I really... REALLY don't like bullies."

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Too bad we can't fit an Abrams tank through those tunnels. That might come in handy right about now.

Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers.

Last thing I would have expected would've been a used-wagon salesman.

Or a block of gilded cheese, but I just couldn't think of another way to phrase it.

I will not be rushed like a common peasant!

Yes! He is a very uncommon peasant! You would do well to learn your place! Miscreants!

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Harlequin: "Claymore! Front towards enemy!"

Seraph: "Why do you keep repeating that phrase?"

Harlequin: "It's a mantra. Not that any of us is genuinely stupid enough to accidentally blow ourselves up by pointing a claymore the wrong way, but... still... it's... good to be careful when handling things that go boom like that. Kinda like how they tell you never to take the safeties off your missiles until you're SURE you want to blow up whatever you're pointing them at."

I saw a film clip yesterday of an anti-tank missile that WAS pointed the right way, but only made it a foot out of the barrel

It felt like an eternity before Ember could make her voice work. "Why?" she finally asked. "Why have you forced this confrontation?"

"For my amusement, for my curiosity, and for my memory of transgressions long since past."

Falynn: "Arrogant, underhanded, smug, pompous little bastard."

Imoen: (Falynn-variant) "He's all of those things, all right. Except for maybe the 'little' part."

Ember: Yeah, not so little anymore...

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

Falynn: "Petty, vindictive... ugh, how I hated that annoying, petulant son of a-"

Feels good to kill him, though.

Imoen: "Yeah, yeah, we know... it's ok, he's dead, we had parts of him for breakfast the next morning... and the next... thirty mornings after that... man, I got tired of eating dragon."

You know, as I was writing I was thinking that taking his hide for armour was almost like skinning a person - he is, after all, sentient - and then you come along and make dragon steaks

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Too bad we can't fit an Abrams tank through those tunnels. That might come in handy right about now.

True, but don't worry; I Have Plans (halfassed ones, but Plans nonetheless)

Chapter 101: Firkraag Revealed

101 is not such a friendly number... we have Orwell to blame for that I suppose.

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

Tarant: It is a good deal... I'd make the same deal but, wouldn't you know, we've no paper on which to put it in writing.

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

Imoen: What was in those powders?

Aerie: Sulphur, charcoal and saltpeter... a-at least that's we put into firecrackers in the circus. Uncle Quayle was afraid there'd be an accident with it someday.

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Aerie: An elf? I-in league with that... creature?

Tarant: What's wrong with you?

Imoen: You see d... Firkraag's species, is largely responsible for driving Avariel to the brink of extinction. Not a lot of love lost between them I gather.

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

Tarant: How does a dragon speak?

Imoen: Bit like a parrot I expect.

Tarant: And how's that?

Aerie: It expels air across the mouth of the trachea a-and...

Tarant: Whatever blondie... I'll look it up myself...

Aerie: Well, what does the encyclopedia say then?

Tarant: Doesn't matter.

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

Aerie: Punishing children for what their parents did... hmm... but Firkraag's too dead to be responsible for the kidnappings.

Imoen: So? Being dead isn't always a handicap in our world.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments.

Tarant: I hate it when they do that... stay still let them batter you!

"Don't worry, Sir Cadril; I don't think we'll get much of a choice in this matter," Ember said, and started distributing the potions she'd found. "Bored with me or not, we know what he is now. He will not just let us walk out of here alive."

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Edwin: I say just leave and blow up the entrance... you're not thinking of going back down there?

Tarant: Gotta be sure... you saw that film didn't you?

Imoen: Dragonslayer? The one with that guy from Ghostbusters 2 in it?

Tarant: Exactly... and you remember what happened when he just collapsed the entrance? Next thing you know villages are burnt to the ground and there's human sacrifice... no, you gotta make absolutely sure it's dead.

Edwin: Life isn't always like a movie you know... and I'm certainly not blowing myself up to kill the thing!

Good chapter! Next time will be definitely be the fight with Firkraag, right?

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

Yes, how dare the desperate man even dream of touching you?

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

If I was Firkaag, I would have chosen better liars to set up the ambush... or creatures with a higher int.

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

I love traps... don`t you? They make everything better...

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

And leaving suddenly became a great idea.

"Very well, an in-depth response," Firkraag said, sounding very put upon. "Gorion. He raised you, and was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day, and crossed my path long ago. Him and his Harper friends. I still bear the scars of that meeting." The dragon shifted his wings in annoyance, letting Ember catch a glimpse of a large, jagged scar across his upper torso; from the look of it, his scales had never fully closed over the wound. "He is beyond my revenge, being dead as he is, so I settled for the next best thing. I can torment his spirit by destroying you. Wherever he is, he is seething."

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

"All of this over a grudge with a dead man?" Sir Cadril cried out. "Are you mad?"

He probably is... or dragons just move on diffrent wavelenghts...

Nice section!

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!!"

"Don't worry, Sir Cadril; I don't think we'll get much of a choice in this matter," Ember said, and started distributing the potions she'd found. "Bored with me or not, we know what he is now. He will not just let us walk out of here alive."

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

I hated the dragon fights... I am glad they were optional.

BTW, they are leaving Taar upstairs I hope?

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Idiots. Idiots, idiots, idiots. At least Samia has a good plan. But these folks...

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

He-eh. You actually found a way to write in his Set Traps ability! Congrats! I probably shouldn't be as impressed as I am, given that it's you who's writing here, but still, I am.

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

Aw. The poor kid is probably scarred for life.

"He's waiting for you," the mage repeated, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child, and headed back into the darkness, leaving the group with little choice but to follow.

Nice intercut, though.

He was a red dragon.

Hi there, Jierdan - I can call you Jierdan, right?

I love how you totally don't describe the dragon here, just count on Ember's fear to tell us all we need to know about him.

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. And worse is still to come, I fear. "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

Heh. "Sorry kid, we can't take you away from your worst nightmares yet. We are adventurers. There's looting to be done!"

...I know that's not it, and I do remember my complaining about Irenicus' dungeon. But that's how it sounds.

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

As always, ne?

I just do hope the kid survives.

Chapter 101: Firkraag Revealed

101 is not such a friendly number... we have Orwell to blame for that I suppose.

I've spent too much time furthering my edumacation. When I see 101, I think of the introductory course in a subject

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

Tarant: It is a good deal... I'd make the same deal but, wouldn't you know, we've no paper on which to put it in writing.

And then I'm sure Tarant would find an alternative use for the paper.

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Aerie: An elf? I-in league with that... creature?

Tarant: What's wrong with you?

Imoen: You see d... Firkraag's species, is largely responsible for driving Avariel to the brink of extinction. Not a lot of love lost between them I gather.

Well, if it's any consolation, this one isn't an Avariel.

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

Tarant: How does a dragon speak?

Imoen: Bit like a parrot I expect.

Tarant: And how's that?

Aerie: It expels air across the mouth of the trachea a-and...

Tarant: Whatever blondie... I'll look it up myself...

Aerie: Well, what does the encyclopedia say then?

Tarant: Doesn't matter.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments.

Tarant: I hate it when they do that... stay still let them batter you!

It's even more annoying when they insist upon casting spells, eh?

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Edwin: I say just leave and blow up the entrance... you're not thinking of going back down there?

I Have Plans.

Good chapter! Next time will be definitely be the fight with Firkraag, right?

Oh yes. I've even started writing it. Well, I've gotten to the point where the fight should begin, anyway

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

Yes, how dare the desperate man even dream of touching you?

Gasping concubines, on the other hand...

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

If I was Firkaag, I would have chosen better liars to set up the ambush... or creatures with a higher int.

I'll let you in on a secret: Firkraag doesn't care what happens to his minions. Another: He doesn't expect them to actually be able to defeat the group.

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

I love traps... don`t you? They make everything better...

I have learned to appreciate them, yes

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

And leaving suddenly became a great idea.

Oh yes.

"All of this over a grudge with a dead man?" Sir Cadril cried out. "Are you mad?"

He probably is... or dragons just move on diffrent wavelenghts...

The poor are insane, the rich are eccentric.

Nice section!

Thanks!

BTW, they are leaving Taar upstairs I hope?

They Are Doing Things As I Intend

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Idiots. Idiots, idiots, idiots. At least Samia has a good plan. But these folks...

The other werewolf has some dialogue (that I only ever saw in the editor) that has him tell the party that the other one wants to ask them something, but he can't remember what

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

He-eh. You actually found a way to write in his Set Traps ability! Congrats! I probably shouldn't be as impressed as I am, given that it's you who's writing here, but still, I am.

Thank you, thank you

Sadly, there aren't many (realistic) opportunities for him to use it, so don't be surprised if I end up never doing it again.

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

Aw. The poor kid is probably scarred for life.

As long as he survives, eh?

"He's waiting for you," the mage repeated, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child, and headed back into the darkness, leaving the group with little choice but to follow.

Nice intercut, though.

I just didn't buy him blabbering and never saying the word 'dragon'.

He was a red dragon.

Hi there, Jierdan - I can call you Jierdan, right?

Firkraag: I don't care.

I love how you totally don't describe the dragon here, just count on Ember's fear to tell us all we need to know about him.

Thanks, I'm glad it worked; I struggled quite a bit with how to present him, and I really wanted her to come across as scared.

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. And worse is still to come, I fear. "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

Heh. "Sorry kid, we can't take you away from your worst nightmares yet. We are adventurers. There's looting to be done!"

...I know that's not it, and I do remember my complaining about Irenicus' dungeon. But that's how it sounds.

If you know of a way to make it clearer that she wants to search for something useful before they leave the room, I am open for suggestions.

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

As always, ne?

I just do hope the kid survives.

We'll see, hopefully sooner rather than later.

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers. In one of the larger chambers, they were approached by two battered and weary-looking men. The men claimed that they had been trapped there for the past four days, and pleaded for aid for their wounded companions.

I remember having to deal with Greater Wolfweres. And by deal with, I mean get my buttocks handed to me on a silver plater.

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

*snicker* I did like that bit. The moron adventuring party.

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

But, he will act like the common piss-ant.

Sorry…. Just couldn’t help myself.

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

And there is the million coin question.

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

*snicker*

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

Bran: “Well, I know they’re actually werewolves and that, but I think the answer I’d give? Smart ones.

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

*chuckles* Was she tapping her foot as well?

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

A well prepared wizard is never easy pickings.

Imoen: “Nope! Cuteness and magic together can never be defeated!”

Valygar: “Thankfully all we have to do is take away the sugar.”

Imoen: “I’ll turn you into a newt.”

Valygar: “I’ll get better.”

"Why am I not surprised to find the actual werewolves in his employ?" Ember said.

Waste not, want not.

"The rest of them must await us behind this door," Yoshimo said. "Allow me..." The Kara-Turan kneeled in front of the door and deftly rigged a tripwire attached to a small bag so that the wire spanned the length of the threshold. "There," he said, standing up and brushing dust from his hands. "Now, we may welcome them properly!"

Nothing like a good booby trap.

Bran: “Hey, why shoot them when you get them to kill themselves.”

Imoen: “That’s what I’m always saying.”

Bran: “Yes sis. But I also prefer not blowing 40 KM chunks out of the local geography.”

Imoen: “Well, if you do, you don’t need to shoot them.”

Bran: *grimaces* “True. But still… overkill?”

Imoen: “Yeah.” *grins*

"What is in the bag?" Mazzy asked.

Yoshimo grinned. "Trust me."

Heh. Heheheheehhehehehe.

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

I like Minsc’s line. The trap is awesome, but Minsc’s line is the real winner.

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Heh. Heh. Always be prepared.

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

Only for a few minutes.

"No orc will make stand while Minsc and Boo live!" Minsc bellowed proudly as Anomen closed a gash across his forehead.

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

Awww. Pronouncements of heroism and cuteness at the same time!

On the other side of the door was a room with several lockers and cabinets, and two rows of tables with accompanying benches. A darkened corridor led away from the far corner, and three barred cells lined the opposite wall. Taar was locked inside one of the cells; the boy stared at the group with wild eyes, his hands clenching the iron bars so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Thank the gods!" the boy cried. "Free me and we shall away! Find the mage - he has the key - the locks are magical. Hurry!"

Poor kid.

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

Aleria: “Exceptionally large and red. Ferocious. Dangerous.”

Imoen: “And he wears really well, right sis?”

Aleria: “Indeed.”

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Plus, no spoiling the big surprise!

The corridor led to a steadily widening flight of steps, which in turn led to a cavern as least as large as the one up near the gates. The cavern floor was almost perfectly smooth and dusted with powdered rock; here and there, the rocks had been melted to a glassy sheen. Numerous fire pots bathed the area in a golden, flickering light and made the patches of glassy rock glitter like jewels.

And in some cases, likely were jewels.

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

Aleria: “I was… not at all pleased to discover that.”

Bran: “Wonder why. Walk in, find out that the mark your after turns out to be an armored division’s worth of firepower. What’s unsettling about that?”

Aleria: “Are you always so flippant?”

Bran: “Only when I’m awake.”

Aleria: “It surprises me your crew haven’t mutinied and left you stranded on some desert world.”

Bran: “What can I say? I’m charming.”

Aleria: “I suppose that is one word for it.”

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

Well, you could just leave. Just a thought.

"Very well, an in-depth response," Firkraag said, sounding very put upon. "Gorion. He raised you, and was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day, and crossed my path long ago. Him and his Harper friends. I still bear the scars of that meeting." The dragon shifted his wings in annoyance, letting Ember catch a glimpse of a large, jagged scar across his upper torso; from the look of it, his scales had never fully closed over the wound. "He is beyond my revenge, being dead as he is, so I settled for the next best thing. I can torment his spirit by destroying you. Wherever he is, he is seething."

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

Aleria: “Your feelings mirrored mine. To be tormented, attacked, and betrayed like this just so a dragon could settle a score with Father? The unmitigated arrogant gall.”

"All of this over a grudge with a dead man?" Sir Cadril cried out. "Are you mad?"

My thoughts exactly.

The dragon chuckled. "I had toyed with forgetting the transgression, though it has not been that long in dragon terms. After all, her lineage would make an interesting subject to study, or so I thought; I must say I've been disappointed with her progress. Her conflict with Jon Irenicus shows some promise, though."

"I suppose you are league with that sadist, aren't you?" Ember growled. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised!

"I will have no dealings with that creature. I am merely interested in your confrontation with him. It was almost enough incentive for me to leave you be, but when I learned from my werewolves that you had shown yourself in my lands and all but trampled across my doorstep in order to curry favours from the dryad queen, I decided that a lesson was in order. Yes, a lesson; do not glare at me like that, Child. For now, you bore me. I will taunt you no more. You may go."

Aleria: “I try not to let my temper get the best of me, but the highhanded treatment and arrogance of this dragon cracked my control.” *She smiles darkly* “And every time I put on this armor, I smile, knowing that it was I that gave the lesson.”

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

God I hate Firkraag. But it’s a good, fun hate. He’s just an awesome villain.

"Make haste!" Anomen cried, and led the group as they ran up the stairs back to the room where Taar was held captive. Conster was waiting for them there, standing calmly in front of the cell where Taar cowered in fear. The mage chanted a few magical syllables as the group approached him. He was not moving his hands, and Ember expected the spell to only be a simple cantrip, but when the chant completed, Yoshimo and Minsc were struck by a bolt of lightning.

Zaaaap! Ouch.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin's spell removed several layers of his magical protections. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the protection spells. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

Short but sweet. Conster meets his end.

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. And worse is still to come, I fear. "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

Heh. That’s right Ember. Time to kick some dragon butt.

With Yoshimo's lockpicking skill, searching the room was quick work; they found several spellscrolls, some enchanted arrows, and a selection of potions, including a few potions of icedust. She allowed herself a smile as she gathered them up; even as loyal as Firkraag's underlings had been, they clearly hadn't been trusting.

*snorts* When the boss is a red dragon, would you? In fact, Firkraag would probably kill them for such lack of foresight.

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!!"

"Don't worry, Sir Cadril; I don't think we'll get much of a choice in this matter," Ember said, and started distributing the potions she'd found. "Bored with me or not, we know what he is now. He will not just let us walk out of here alive."

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Bran: “While it’s not quite ‘Let’s go kick ass and take names’, it’s more than serviceable.”

Aleria: “The statement is straightforward. There is no need for verbal heroics before battle, just faith, strength and courage.”

Bran: *shakes his head* “You really need a sense of drama.”

Aleria: *shrugs* “I’ve never been good at speeches.”

Bran: *chuckles* “Fair enough. Hey, Ember? Wanna borrow a couple missile launchers and some phase rifles?”

Great stuff Cel.

And DRAGON FIGHT!!! Hooray!!!

VH

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers. In one of the larger chambers, they were approached by two battered and weary-looking men. The men claimed that they had been trapped there for the past four days, and pleaded for aid for their wounded companions.

I remember having to deal with Greater Wolfweres. And by deal with, I mean get my buttocks handed to me on a silver plater.

Especially if you go there at a higher level. I ran my current party, levels 12-16, through there yesterday and... ouch.

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

*snicker* I did like that bit. The moron adventuring party.

So convincing, eh?

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

But, he will act like the common piss-ant.

Sorry…. Just couldn’t help myself.

The truth will out!

Ember frowned. They really have lasted a long time here, haven't they? Are they as helpless as they claim? "Four days is a long time in a place like this, especially with wounded," she said. "Why haven't the orcs found you and killed you?"

And there is the million coin question.

The kind that you're very glad you ask once it occurs to you to ask it.

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

*snicker*

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

*chuckles* Was she tapping her foot as well?

I don't think she got quite that far

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

A well prepared wizard is never easy pickings.

As long as you never expect me to actually describe every spell involve

Imoen: “Nope! Cuteness and magic together can never be defeated!”

Valygar: “Thankfully all we have to do is take away the sugar.”

Imoen: “I’ll turn you into a newt.”

Valygar: “I’ll get better.”

(Why do Immy and Valygar always seem to go so well together?)

"Why am I not surprised to find the actual werewolves in his employ?" Ember said.

Waste not, want not.

Exactly.

"What is in the bag?" Mazzy asked.

Yoshimo grinned. "Trust me."

Heh. Heheheheehhehehehe.

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

I like Minsc’s line. The trap is awesome, but Minsc’s line is the real winner.

Yeah. I should give him more lines, really

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Heh. Heh. Always be prepared.

Well, they DID come there to find werewolves, after all...

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

Only for a few minutes.

Minutes?

"No orc will make stand while Minsc and Boo live!" Minsc bellowed proudly as Anomen closed a gash across his forehead.

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

Awww. Pronouncements of heroism and cuteness at the same time!

Thanks for the awww

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

Aleria: “Exceptionally large and red. Ferocious. Dangerous.”

Imoen: “And he wears really well, right sis?”

Aleria: “Indeed.”

As one of my party members should soon find out (not really a spoiler, is it? )

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

Plus, no spoiling the big surprise!

It made no sense to me that Taar wouldn't utter the key word, you know?

The corridor led to a steadily widening flight of steps, which in turn led to a cavern as least as large as the one up near the gates. The cavern floor was almost perfectly smooth and dusted with powdered rock; here and there, the rocks had been melted to a glassy sheen. Numerous fire pots bathed the area in a golden, flickering light and made the patches of glassy rock glitter like jewels.

And in some cases, likely were jewels.

Nah, the jewels are stashed in the back. The glassy bits are Firkraag throwing a tantrum or just feeling bored.

He was a red dragon.

Aleria: “I was… not at all pleased to discover that.”

I don't think anyone ever is.

"Welcome," the dragon said. "You have come, as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it."

Well, you could just leave. Just a thought.

Red dragons do not succumb to such frippery as normal logic.

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

Aleria: “Your feelings mirrored mine. To be tormented, attacked, and betrayed like this just so a dragon could settle a score with Father? The unmitigated arrogant gall.”

The gall is almost as bad in itself as the attacker being a dragon.

"Do I know this? Do I really? Oh, very well. Here, rescue the boy from my servant and feel fulfilled. Do not think it will be easy; I test my subjects thusly all the time, and they know that failure is death," Firkraag said. "Conster! Go to the boy! If this group fails to take him from you, kill him." The mage bowed before the dragon, opened a dimension door, stepped through it, and vanished.

God I hate Firkraag. But it’s a good, fun hate. He’s just an awesome villain.

Yeah, he's such a jerk about it!

"Make haste!" Anomen cried, and led the group as they ran up the stairs back to the room where Taar was held captive. Conster was waiting for them there, standing calmly in front of the cell where Taar cowered in fear. The mage chanted a few magical syllables as the group approached him. He was not moving his hands, and Ember expected the spell to only be a simple cantrip, but when the chant completed, Yoshimo and Minsc were struck by a bolt of lightning.

Zaaaap! Ouch.

If Eddie can't be a walkover, neither can other mages.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin's spell removed several layers of his magical protections. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the protection spells. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

Short but sweet. Conster meets his end.

I just hope it wasn't too sudden for what was supposed to be a skilled mage

"Not yet," Ember said as she finished healing the acid burns on Edwin's arms and face. Her own limbs were still shaking from the lightning, and even after healing her own wounds, she still ached all over, but it wasn't too bad; she'd endured far worse before, after all. And worse is still to come, I fear. "Yoshimo, help me search the lockers."

Heh. That’s right Ember. Time to kick some dragon butt.

Actually, the main goal is just to get out, but she's guessing that dragon butt will block the way.

With Yoshimo's lockpicking skill, searching the room was quick work; they found several spellscrolls, some enchanted arrows, and a selection of potions, including a few potions of icedust. She allowed herself a smile as she gathered them up; even as loyal as Firkraag's underlings had been, they clearly hadn't been trusting.

*snorts* When the boss is a red dragon, would you? In fact, Firkraag would probably kill them for such lack of foresight.

Good point.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Bran: “While it’s not quite ‘Let’s go kick ass and take names’, it’s more than serviceable.”

Aleria: “The statement is straightforward. There is no need for verbal heroics before battle, just faith, strength and courage.”

Bran: *shakes his head* “You really need a sense of drama.”

Aleria: *shrugs* “I’ve never been good at speeches.”

Bran: *chuckles* “Fair enough. Hey, Ember? Wanna borrow a couple missile launchers and some phase rifles?”

Ember: I'd rather have eight cloaks of invisibility and non detection wrapped into one, to be honest.

Great stuff Cel.

Thanks!

And DRAGON FIGHT!!! Hooray!!!

It's coming, it's coming (about a third of it is written, the rest is roughly sketched).

"If imbecilic amateurs such as you can last four days here without us," Edwin snapped, "you can last a few moments longer!"

I like the way he makes a good point.

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

…that’s a really silly Bluff check.

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

*nods approvingly* It’s good to be able to back your insults with liberal use of Fireballs.

Once everyone was ready, Minsc pushed the door open and cheerfully shouted, "Hello, werewolves!" He then stepped back and watched as the four startled men in the room within shifted into their true forms and rushed towards the doorway. The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

They don’t like that stuff, do they… good of Yoshimo to know, I wonder if they actually have were creatures in Kara Tur.

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

…I know I’d be embarrassed in his place…

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

Aww?

On the other side of the door was a room with several lockers and cabinets, and two rows of tables with accompanying benches. A darkened corridor led away from the far corner, and three barred cells lined the opposite wall. Taar was locked inside one of the cells; the boy stared at the group with wild eyes, his hands clenching the iron bars so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Thank the gods!" the boy cried. "Free me and we shall away! Find the mage - he has the key - the locks are magical. Hurry!"

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

More importantly where is Tazok!

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

I like dragons. They have good loot.

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

I found it oddly refreshing and amusing.

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin's spell removed several layers of his magical protections. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the protection spells. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

I remember he was ridiculously easy if you dispelled him quick enough… just like most mages in the game.

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!!"

The Paladin Approach – we charge in and smite it.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

…or possibly use common sense and tactics.

"If imbecilic amateurs such as you can last four days here without us," Edwin snapped, "you can last a few moments longer!"

I like the way he makes a good point.

He is, after all, intelligent.

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

…that’s a really silly Bluff check.

Yes. Yes, it is.

"Ah... You wait no longer!" the man who'd bothered Edwin shouted. "Ambush stupid when you are already in the lair! Firkraag be damned, I kill you for food!" Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

*nods approvingly* It’s good to be able to back your insults with liberal use of Fireballs.

Oh yes. Especially if you can avoid endangering yourself in the process

One of the two other exits led only to a small, dusty and very empty room. The other led to a room where half a dozen large orcs were waiting; one of them was the orc with the scarlet sash that had left the front gate. "Stupid werewolves! DigDag knew they fail," the orc with the sash growled. "Now we make stand! Make Firkraag proud he served by Stuck in Craw Clan!"

…I know I’d be embarrassed in his place…

It's a good thing Firkraag doesn't care one way or the other.

"Indeed, they shall not," Anomen said; upon noticing that Ember was watching them, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back.

Aww?

Maybe?

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

More importantly where is Tazok!

Somewhere deep under Baldur's Gate, turning into compost.

He was a red dragon.

I like dragons. They have good loot.

Getting the loot, though, can be a pain in the behind.

Ember couldn't believe it. A dragon - a dragon! - held a personal grudge against her, but not for the sake of Sarevok, or what she'd done to the Iron Throne, or because of her Bhaalspawn blood; it was for something Gorion had done long before she even was born!

I found it oddly refreshing and amusing.

Well, you are not your character

"(Devious,)" Edwin muttered, and while the others charged Conster, he cast a spell of magic removal on the mage. The spell struck; the mage seemed to dissolve into thin air and reappeared a few feet away, glowing with protective enchantments. Snarling, Conster flung a second lighting bolt at his attackers, taking care to aim it so that it'd strike Edwin as well, but the Thayvian's boots of grounding showed their worth; he shrugged off the spell and continued with his casting, and as Anomen and Mazzy got close enough to strike Conster, Edwin's spell removed several layers of his magical protections. Almost immediately, the mage's protective spells renewed themselves, buying him enough time to cast acid arrows at Edwin as well as strike his attackers with a third round of lightning before Minsc finally broke through the toughest of the protection spells. The mage was still almost invulnerable, but it was enough; before long, Sir Cadril managed to run his blade through Conster's chest.

I remember he was ridiculously easy if you dispelled him quick enough… just like most mages in the game.

Edwin's lucky he's with a party of meatshields.

"We... we cannot let it end like this, can we?" Sir Cadril said. "This is a foul beast of legend; surely we will not let it get away with its manipulations! Too many have suffered at its whim!!"

The Paladin Approach – we charge in and smite it.

I saw Keldorn's dialogue and just could not help giving it to Sir Cadril

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

…or possibly use common sense and tactics.

She tries to, at least

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers.

Oh, this'll end well.

"Yes, come this way," one of the men urged, and tugged at the hem of Edwin's sleeve. "Wounded in the back here, in small room. Yes. Move in close."

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

Surely an amazing bit of restraint on Edwin's part... somehow, I think the simian's lucky to not be a little charred heap!

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

I love Ember's perception here. Plus, the wolves seem even more feral with their weak story, y'know. They're blatantly far too hungry for any pretense!

Within moments, both men morphed into werewolves and lunged at Edwin, no doubt perceiving the robed wizard as an easy target. He was not. Before the first werewolf could touch him, he all but burnt its face off with a volley of magic missiles. The creature howled in pain and reeled backwards, straight into Anomen's reach. The cleric struck the creature's head hard enough to send it reeling into the wall; Edwin finished it off with a blast of flame while the rest of the group cut down the other werewolf.

"(I warned the fool,)" Edwin muttered smugly as he straightened his robes.

Now that's what I was talking about! Love Edwin's snarky little comment as well.

The first one through the door stumbled over the tripwire; the bag, filled with strange Kara-Turan powders, exploded and showered the werewolves with tiny splinters of pure silver. They reacted as if they had been showered in burning oil, and even though there were four of them, the fight did not last long.

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Yoshimo's trap is the coolest trap I've even seen. I love the logic you put into that; how it works. In a strange way, it reminds me of the Bourne movies, those little near-improvised devices, y'know? Really makes the action convincing and clever. Minor niggle though: shouldn't the 'it' in his line not be there? Or is it me?

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

That wasn't ominous at all...

The corridor led to a steadily widening flight of steps, which in turn led to a cavern as least as large as the one up near the gates. The cavern floor was almost perfectly smooth and dusted with powdered rock; here and there, the rocks had been melted to a glassy sheen. Numerous fire pots bathed the area in a golden, flickering light and made the patches of glassy rock glitter like jewels.

Firkraag stood in the middle of the cavern, his elf mage hovering by his side like an obedient pet, and watched the arrival of the group with obvious amusement. And why not be amused, Ember thought weakly as she looked at Firkraag. Lord Jierdan was still scarlet, still golden, and still arrogant, but otherwise, he was not even remotely as he had been in Athkatla.

He was a red dragon.

I love this building up to the revelation; works really well, to describe the surroundings first like that.

"We cannot leave without Garren's son," Mazzy said. "You know this."

I love this little bit; with Mazzy acting every inch the noble paladin-figure she wants to be. Quite cool; and I doubt anyone else amongst Ember's band could pull it off!

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Wow. That's a reallt grim ending; especially when compared with Mazzy's heroism earlier, and that awesome battle with Conster. I like how subtly that came across, there; Ember's got no illusions, has she? Anyway. Now I'm gonna be on the edge of my seat...

In the lower levels, after fighting their way past a couple squads of orc guards and traversing the walkway that spanned the pit they'd seen from the main cavern, Ember and her companions came upon the last thing they would have expected in such a place: other adventurers.

Oh, this'll end well.

But of course!

"You dare touch the great Edwin Odesseiron?!" the wizard bellowed. "(Insufferable simians!) I will not be rushed like a common peasant!"

Surely an amazing bit of restraint on Edwin's part... somehow, I think the simian's lucky to not be a little charred heap!

On some level, I think he is aware that he's toeing the line with most of the company he currently keeps. (If he were in Thay, of course, matters would be very different.)

"Err, ah, we have made a deal with them," the other man stammered. "Yes, that is it. They have let us live and we, ah, do not bother them. It is a good deal, I think."

"You make deals with orcs?" Sir Cadril asked. "What manner of adventurers are you?"

"We... ah... deals? We..."

Ember crossed her arms. "I'm waiting..."

I love Ember's perception here. Plus, the wolves seem even more feral with their weak story, y'know. They're blatantly far too hungry for any pretense!

She has to make use of her Wis score, after all

"(I warned the fool,)" Edwin muttered smugly as he straightened his robes.

Now that's what I was talking about! Love Edwin's snarky little comment as well.

Edwin: *is almost grateful, but then remembers that too few people give him the accolades he deserves, and merely huffs*

"A little trap I prepared it before we left Athkatla, just in case I'd get a chance to set it," Yoshimo said with satisfaction as he wiped werewolf blood from his blade. "Two silver coins well spent, don't you agree?"

Yoshimo's trap is the coolest trap I've even seen. I love the logic you put into that; how it works. In a strange way, it reminds me of the Bourne movies, those little near-improvised devices, y'know? Really makes the action convincing and clever. Minor niggle though: shouldn't the 'it' in his line not be there? Or is it me?

It's not just you; an editing glitch. Thanks!

And I've never seen any of the Bourne movies

"Where is Firkraag?" Ember asked.

Taar laughed wildly. "Firkraag? No no no. Do not risk yourselves, not for my sake. I have seen him; he's-"

There was a flash of light, and the boy froze in place, bound by a holding spell; his mouth was still open in speech.

"He's waiting for you." An elf in dark robes stepped out of the corridor, and gestured for the group to follow him.

That wasn't ominous at all...

Yeah, sunshine and rainbows next!

He was a red dragon.

I love this building up to the revelation; works really well, to describe the surroundings first like that.

Thanks!

"We cannot leave without Garren's son," Mazzy said. "You know this."

I love this little bit; with Mazzy acting every inch the noble paladin-figure she wants to be. Quite cool; and I doubt anyone else amongst Ember's band could pull it off!

Which is exactly why I gave her that line.

"Then... then what do we do?" Taar asked meekly.

Ember thrust a potion of icedust into the boy's hands. "We use what we have, and we see how far it'll get us."

Wow. That's a reallt grim ending; especially when compared with Mazzy's heroism earlier, and that awesome battle with Conster. I like how subtly that came across, there; Ember's got no illusions, has she? Anyway. Now I'm gonna be on the edge of my seat...

Well, the dragon fight is mostly written by now, so hopefully I'll be able to complete the chapter over the weekend. And I hope it won't disappoint

And yes, Ember has absolutely no illusions about what Firkraag might have in mind for them.