Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 2.25.

Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 2.25.

With extreme caution we advance through the danger filled, abandoned temple, the air down here is even colder than outside, the stone walls of the passageways are in places covered with frost. Adding to all this inhospitality are numerous undead creatures, the already well known shadowy, wolf-like abominations, various sorts of apparition-like shadows this time are accompanied by that much tougher skeletal warriors with their intimidating, large stature and equally large swords…

Not only are the skeletal warriors capable of causing great deal of pain, I think whilst Jaheira is busy casting a healing spell to close the wound on my shoulder, trouble is that our blades are not that effective. It’s very hard to split a bone with a sword, much harder than to crush it with a club or a flail… I curse myself for neglecting to buy Jaheira a somewhat decent club or staff - I know that she is skilled in their use.

“Now what’s this…” Jan rummages through a pile of garbage, “a sword and a bow… hmmmph, what an odd place to find such things…”

Meanwhile, Yoshimo has spotted that one of the skeletons we crushed earlier was carrying a key of some sorts and now he is looking for whatever door this key may open. After a short while he calls us to join him.

“Looks like a prison cell, my friends,” he gathers.

“Well, let’s see what’s inside this one,” I push on the door handle and the door opens with a slight creak. I take a quick peek inside the dark cell, but see nobody, “Anybody here? Well, looks like it’s empty…” I conclude.

“Ho, noble and righteous friends! I beg your assistance in this foul place,” a clean and rich feminine voice addresses me from… way below.

“Ho, ho, a halfling lass,” I look downward to see a diminutive, red-haired figure, dressed in a heavy plate mail armor, “and it can speak too!”

“Lass indeed! I am a valiant warrior! My business is to make this setting less dangerous by rightfully destroying the whole evil that festers within this place,” the little halfling chants.

“Err… yes, well, brave and valiant one, how did you ended up in the cage then?” I ask slightly smirking.

“There is no need for such arrogance,” the halfling speaks, affronted, “I am Mazzy Fentan, a valiant servant of justice and righteousness. Allow me to explain how I ended up in this situation.”

“Are you in need of healing?” Jaheira asks, stepping into the cell.

“No, thank you, apart from some minor bruises I am at good health,” Mazzy responds politely, “I led my party here to discover the source of the evil that has infested this area, as we were bidden to do by Minister Lloyd.”

“My companions… were all slaughtered,” a single teardrop rolls down Mazzy’s dirty cheek, “at the Shadow Altar. The remnants of the slain have been perverted and turned into these shadow creatures, by the power of the dark fiend, the Shade Lord.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” I mutter quietly, so that only Jaheira can hear it. Meanwhile the others have also stepped into the cell, making it very crowded in here. As soon as Jan steps over the doorstep, carrying and examining the newly found weaponry, Mazzy suddenly and unexpectedly rushes him…

“Hand them over, gnome! These weapons are my property, a personal gift by Arvoreen herself!”

“Well, I…” Jan is almost knocked on the ground as Mazzy grabs the weapons from him, “I… I’m just going to sit here for a while and calm my nerves by sucking this here delicious looking turnip…”

I exchange glances with Jaheira, then ask Mazzy, “Yes, well, I’m glad that you have your tools back, now you may as well continue with your story… why has this Shade Lord shown up?”

“It is here to dominate and to conquer. This Shade Lord is feeding on the corruption of souls. Slowly and patiently it is building its army of shadows,” Mazzy speaks conclusively.

“Ah, yes, the standard tactic of every self-respecting, average villain,” Yoshimo inserts his line, “and as always it is a part of some sort of grand master-plan.”

“Please, be patient and allow me to explain,” there is something admonitory in Mazzy’s voice, it would seem that she treats us like small children, “while looking into disappearance of the local ranger, Merella, we learned many important things. The local legends explain that the Shade Lord was vanquished by Amaunator ages ago. We entered these temple ruins and discovered it infested with shadow-magic. The Shadow Wolves, you no doubt met in the foul forest are formed form the corrupted wolf packs that roamed these hills mere weeks ago leaving in relatively peaceful coexistence with the local farmers and shepherds.”

“Amaunator? I am not familiar with the name, but I assume that this temple is dedicated to him, am I correct?” Jaheira asks.

“You are correct,” Mazzy replies affirmatively, reminding me of a way a teacher looks at the scholar who has given a satisfactory answer, “From old and dusty tomes we learned of the perverted altar of Amaunator - it can only be reached through the bowels of this place.”

“A word of caution, my noble friends,” there is a sense of warning in Mazzy’s voice, “The Shade Lord commands a Shadow Dragon…a most deadly and dangerous foe. He struck us down merely with his laughter, and I am unsure of how to defeat such a creature…”

I feel my belly churning heavily and I shoot a quick glance towards Jaheira, hoping to receive some encouragement, but my spirits sink even lower seeing the uptight expression on her face, she seems to have gone pale, but perhaps it is just the poor visibility in this cell playing tricks on me. So, I should have guessed it as Jan showed me that pit… must make a mental note for the next time, if there will be a next time… funny that Jan, being such a seasoned adventurer did not realize it…

“A d-d-dwagon?” Nalia exclaims in a panic stricken voice, “I’m not sure whether my teeth are rattling from the cold or from the fear…”

“And that’s not all, I’m afraid,” Mazzy continues solemnly, “that fiend, the Shade Lord sucked out the life force of my friends and turned them into members of his shadow army. My beloved Patrick has become a hideous shadow! I would gladly have given my life with my friends but the Shade Lord did not allow the dragon to kill me. His designs for me are to be what he calls ‘his consort.’ He is a creature of other plane and must possess a physical body, feeding on its life force… His current ‘consort’ is Merella and once she grows weak, it will be my turn.”

“Obviously, you are well informed about the whole situation and you have had… a lot of time to ponder about it,” Jaheira withstands Mazzy’s admonishing glance with ease and continues, “have you any suggestion as to what would be the best way to defeat this Shade Lord?”

“Yes, long time indeed…” Mazzy retorts sharper than I would expected from a would-be paladin, “I believe that this corrupted altar which the shadow dragon guards, is the secret to solving this mystery. Though, how do you expect to defeat the Shadow Dragon, I have no idea. If my group failed, I cannot imagine you faring better… excuse me for being so frank, but you don’t look up to this task… All I know is that the Shade Lord and his altar must be destroyed. I am prepared to lend my valiant sword arm to achieve this righteous goal.”

“Yes… well, I suppose with your knowledge of this place, your advice might be of use to us,” I overpower my dislike for the self-righteous, tiny tin-can, “and perhaps we can find a way to avoid fighting this Shadow Dragon…”

“What?” Mazzy is incensed, “back out of a fight and leave such an evil fiend behind us to roam the country side, unchallenged? In Arvoreen’s name, the beast must be destroyed!”

“Well… let’s not be so hasty… maybe it actually is a nice and friendly dragon and kills only because he is under the control of the Shadow Lord…” I try to make a reason with the tiny warrior.

“Oh, that reminds me of my Uncle Timothy and his pet dragon,” Jan pipes up.

“Your uncle had a dragon for a pet? Why, that’s ridiculous!” Mazzy shouts.

“Well, let me explain then… you see Uncle Timothy had the largest turnip plantation in Amn and the main reason for his success in the turnip business was the assistance of a genuine Red Dragon, yes indeed… you cannot imagine how efficiently a single dragon can plough up the whole plantation in a single day… and how easy the watering became in the times of drought! Percival just flew to the nearest lake, drunk it till the bottom and then sprinkled the water all over Uncle Timothy’s turnip seedlings… And nobody dared to come close to steal the turnips, and… and can you imagine how much useful manure can one Red Dragon supply…”

I am unable to suppress a light snicker seeing Mazzy’s mouth flapping wide open in disbelief and shock…