- A Hex of Signs -

The town was eerily deserted as we walked in, and we soon found out why. The villagers and caravan people were having a meeting at The Iron Horse Inn. We could hear them arguing as we walked up to the place. Over a hundred people were crowded into the common room. We squeezed our way in, forced to stand by the door because there weren't any tables available.
The meeting had clearly gotten out of hand. Everyone was talking at once, and it was impossible to hold a conversation even with your nearest neighbor. A well-dressed, older man in the center of the room, apparently tired of asking for everyone's attention, suddenly shattered a piece of crockery on the floor. The loud crash startled everyone, and there was sudden quiet.
The man kicked the crockery shards out of the way and began speaking. "Amril," he said, "lacks the manpower to defend caravans of any sort through Reception Pass. We must look to ourselves now."
I waved my hands, trying to get the man's attention so we could offer our assistance. But a bunch of merchants sitting near the fire stood up and started shouting. After they were calmed down, the chubby one remained standing.
"Henrick von Holtsen," he said, "I can understand your position. This situation would be easily remedied if mercenaries were to accompany my own wagons through the pass. Surely you can spare five willing men. I'll compensate them for their trouble."
The merchant sat down. Once again I started to call for von Holtsen's attention, but people began shouting again, and a fist-fight broke out in the corner. (They were an unruly lot with no sense of etiquette). Finally, von Holtsen managed to restore order. "If there were only some powerful mercenaries to help us, then we might have a solution."
From the table right in front of us, a short, dark-haired man stood up. "Eh," he said in the thick accent of an Istur native. He pointed to us. "'Ere's yer mercenaries."
With that, he turned and left the inn. I watched him in amazement -- I'd had no idea that The Organization had sent a mouth for us.
Meanwhile, all eyes in the tavern had turned to us. We approached and were offered a seat with von Holtsen and Chelsby. I smirked at Chelsby and said, "Hope you don't mind that most of your powerful mercenaries are women." (He had nothing to say to that.)
Chelsby bought us some hot food (thank the gods) and told us the deal. Of course, when I say us I really mean Rhavin and Morallan. He completely ignored Morgan, Alanna and me except for the a few clumsy compliments on my looks, which he delivered with a horrible leer that was supposed to pass for his winning smile. He was a pig.
Rhavin, of course, was very polite, and smoothly negotiated on our behalf. Actually, there really wasn't much negotiating. Chelsby offered us 50 gold a piece and we took it. After all, we all had our own reasons for going on this mission, and they had little to do with what Chelsby offered us. (The others didn't seem to think it was a lot of money, but I was surprised to see them scoff at it after just admitting to me that they couldn't afford to buy food. For my part, I always use the extra money I get from forging documents to buy gifts for Sal and the other dancers, and I saw no reason to plan any different for this.)
Actually, there was one bit of negotiating. Rhavin made sure our meals were included.
We hastily bought a few supplies while the merchants were getting ready (Rhavin actually bought a claim to a mine -- the closest thing to a map we could find). I took the time to talk with some of the locals, learning rumors about the strange happenings at the pass. Rhavin and I also went to the local shrine to Wajen, but the place was closed up tight and all the priests were gone. I thought this was a little strange, but no one seemed to know anything about it. Time was running out, so we went to join the caravan. Chelsby seemed to be in a big hurry, bullying his people and barking out orders like a lord in his castle.
The trip to the dwarven ruins took several days. Noticing that Chelsby's guards, especially the young wizard were really nervous and unsure of themselves, I took the time to get to know some of them. They were all very nice and friendly, and I wanted them to know that I would be there for them if they needed healing, protection, or advice. It was my duty as a priestess, and I was pleased to do it. I don't like to see anyone afraid.
It was easy going for a while. We took turns patrolling along side the wagons in pairs (I was lucky enough to be teamed up with Rhavin), and spent the time in between riding in the wagons. We had lots of time to talk and get to know each other. Alanna told me about winning the Hurvan games in the company of Lisha, and Rhavin told of a later adventure in which they were shrunk to tiny, little people. We didn't see much of Morallan, who declared Chelsby's young guards green and unfit for duty. A true cleric of Azkal, he set about whipping them into shape. The poor kids were obviously frightened, and Morallan's presence seemed to comfort them a great deal. The only down side to this part of the trip was Chelsby's presence. The man seemed to think he owned us, ordering us around and trying to direct our efforts to protect his caravan despite knowing nothing about our abilities. Rhavin, ever the diplomat, did his best to placate the man, and in return Chelsby granted him a small measure of respect (though nowhere near what the paladin was due).
Chelsby's presence was not the only unpleasant thing -- not for me anyway. It was during this part of the trip that Alanna started opening up to me about her adventures in Ravenloft. She told me terrifying stories about dead things that walked, about vampires, werewolves, and mummies. I didn't want to believe her. But I am a very good judge of character, and Alanna is not the type to invent fanciful tales. (Besides, Rhavin supported her, and he can't lie.) Then Alanna began speaking of a terrible prophecy that she'd discovered. She handed me a piece of parchment and asked me to read it. The words, penned in Alanna's precise and careful hand, read:

These signs were foreseen by Hyskosa, a Vistani most gifted with the sight. Spread word of these wherever ye travel. Only the true-hearted can stop the fall of the night of Evil.

The night of evil shall descend on the land when these hex of signs are near at hand.
In the house of Dagon the sorcerer born, through life, unlife, unliving shall scorn.
The lifeless child of stern mother found heralds a time, a night of evil unbound.
Seventh time the son of suns doth rise to send the knave to an eternity of cries.
Inajeera will make his fortunes reverse, Dooming all to live with the curse.

When I read these words, I gasped and fell to my knees, shaking. I couldn't answer Alanna's concerned questions, not for a few minutes. I'd seen these words before -- they were the bands of darkness on the sails of the ship in my vision. I was right to be afraid. Unless we could somehow stop it, these signs foretold of a terrible tragedy, of boundless evil and the destruction of all that lives. When I could finally talk, I asked Alanna what she knew of it. She told me that she had already seen two of these signs come to pass. The night of evil was fast approaching. What had I gotten myself into? Or I should say, what had Torodin gotten me into? I felt overwhelmed. Out of all the priests at His disposal, why send me? Almost every priest at Strand's Shadows exceeded me in power and fighting ability. The only skill at which I could boast superiority was dancing. Why would Torodin send me on a quest to save the world?
I have yet to learn the answer to that question. But I managed to calm down and picked Alanna's brain for everything she knew about Ravenloft. It was far too much information to record here, but she mentioned that her friend Temmer had kept a journal that might prove useful. Silvio is going to have someone contact the bard and obtain a copy for our library.
As we got closer to the dwarven ruins, we began to grow uneasy. When the caravan stopped each night for the evening meal, the five of us would take some time to explore the area, looking for some clues about what we might be running into. The first night we encountered nothing unusual, but on the second we ran into a funny, little hermit. Morgan had found a few tracks that led down a little side trail. We ignored Chelsby's protests (Rhavin placated him with a promise that we would be back in time for the evening meal), and we set out to explore it. It was a small, dirt path, winding up along the cliff wall and to a small pond. We stopped, peering into the darkness with our torches held above us. Suddenly, a strange figure capered into view. He was a young but stoop- shouldered man with twigs tangled in his long brown hair and beard. His eyes shone with madness.
"Hey, there," he shouted, laughing. "Who are you there, now? Who disturbs my home, and at such a late hour?"
The rest of us halted, momentarily taken off guard. But Rhavin stepped forward and bowed to the man. "Good sir, we apologize for the intrusion. We are but humble adventurers, here to investigate the problems with the merchant caravans." Rhavin then introduced each of us by name.
The hermit absently pulled a feather from his grimy beard and stuck it behind his ear. "Eh, well, don't know nothing about no caravans. Have you seen my staff?"
We exchanged confused glances. I stepped up beside Rhavin and smiled kindly at the poor man. "You haven't told us your name," I said gently.
"Histellwyn," he said. I made a mental note of it.
"What staff are you talking about?" Alanna asked.
"Lost my staff. Big stick, it was. Good for walking. They took it."
"Who's they?" asked Rhavin.
"Them what lives in the dwarven ruins, these days. Nasty folk. Took my staff. Don't suppose you'd be willing to fetch it for me?"
Rhavin can't resist doing a good deed, especially for someone as helpless as the hermit appeared to be. He placed a hand solemnly over his holy symbol and said, "Good sir, I promise that, if at all possible, I will find your staff and bring it back to you."
"What about the nasty folk in the dwarven ruins?" I asked, determined to get some useful information out of this trek. "Can you tell us anything about them?" The hermit became agitated. He stood and began pacing frantically in circles, waving his hands over his head. "No, no, no. Nasty folk. I don't go near them. Don't want them coming after me."
Abruptly, he fished a rusty cup out of a sack slung over his shoulder and filled it with water from the pond. He held it out to me. "Here, have a drink." I peered with distaste at the cup. I could see mold growing on the side, and it smelled of rotting vegetation. "Um, no thanks. We'd best be going."
Since it was clear that there was nothing more to be learned here, Rhavin bid the hermit farewell and we returned to camp. As we ate dinner, I used the hermit's name to cast an information-gathering spell (Though I never told them, I'd done the same for my fellow adventurers when we first met, just to make sure they were what they seemed to be.) I learned that the hermit was really a cleric of Wajen, but I couldn't tell the cause of his madness. Of course, the accuracy of the spell hinged on the hermit having given me his real name. I warned Rhavin of this, suggesting that some more divination might be called for before he gave the man any staff we might find. Rhavin promised to consider my words, but I had my doubts -- he'd already made a promise, and I don't think it mattered to him what we found out.

- Reception Pass -

A few days later, we came to the enormous gate that marked the entrance to Reception Pass. The ancient gate arching above the pass was a work of art, carved with runes and intricate scenes of long-forgotten warriors. We approached with a mixture of awe and caution. Only the most hardened of souls could fail to be impressed by the wonder that is dwarven workmanship, but we were all very much aware of the danger -- and the dwarven penchant for traps. With this in mind, I asked the others to step back a bit while I cast a few spells. They agreed (reluctantly on Rhavin's part -- he is very over protective -- an endearing flaw) and I checked to see if the gate was trapped. It was not. But when I cast another spell to pick up on thoughts in the area, I discovered that we were being watched! Someone or something was making note of the number of wagons and guards and reporting this to his (or its) compatriots. I whispered this information to the others, but none of us could spot any sign of our spy. We moved on cautiously.
That evening, Rhavin suggested that someone might be watching us from the caves up above, and we decided to investigate. Morallan and Morgan stayed behind to watch over the nervous merchants and, with the help of Alanna's nifty boots of levitation, she, Rhavin and I went up to explore the caves far above us. As we floated up, we soon realized there were far too many caves for us to investigate them all. We were about to head back down when my infravision picked up a heat source in one of the caves. Our spies, perhaps? Cautiously, we went in to look around. Only to be attacked by a horde of blood-sucking stirges. As soon as they attacked, quick- thinking Alanna grabbed me and headed back down to earth. As we floated down, we could hear Rhavin fighting for his life above us. Below, our other friends were scurrying to protect the horses from the creatures that had followed us out of the cave.
I waited anxiously down below while Alanna went up to get Rhavin. Levitating is slow, and the illusionist realized that Rhavin was in great danger, fighting a flock of stirges all alone. Knowing the creatures are repelled by light, she cast a light spell on the paladin. It worked, in a way. The creatures did flee from the light. Unfortunately, there was more room for them to escape outside the cave. The stirges rushed en masse toward the cave exit, knocking Rhavin off the cliff. The rest of us (the stirges attacking the horses had been finished off by now) all watched in astonished silence as the glowing paladin went plummeting towards earth, arms and legs swinging wildly. He bounced off Alanna, who tried in vain to catch him. Fortunately, she managed to get a feather fall spell off just in time to save him. Looking a bit sheepish, Rhavin stood and dusted himself off as I rushed over to heal him.
Chelsby had the gall to berate us for that little adventure, which annoyed even Rhavin. The stupid merchant just didn't understand that knowledge, not brute force, was the key to the caravan's safety. Rhavin politely but firmly suggested that we knew what we were doing, and Chelsby backed off.
The next day, aware that an attack could come at any time, we stuck close to the caravan. We were deep in the valley now, and the cliff walls seemed to loom threateningly on both sides of us. It was mine and Rhavin's shift to patrol beside the wagons. The paladin had been predicting disaster for some time now (I would eventually learn that it is just Rhavin's nature to be pessimistic, but I still haven't gotten used to it. I mean, if the one person in the party that we all depend on to be brave and confident is expecting the worst, what does that leave for the rest of us?), but now he was even more nervous than usual. At his suggestion, Morgan and Morallan jumped out of the middle wagon to patrol the rear. Alanna stayed in the wagon with some of the guards, while Rhavin and I walked in front. He'd just cautioned me to stick close to him (no great hardship there) when we rounded a bend in the road to find an avalanche of rocks blocking our way. The caravan drivers stopped their wagons.
We looked about, searching for danger. All was quiet. Rhavin shook his head. "This is a trap. Keep moving." Chelsby started to protest, but his men had come to respect Rhavin more than the sleazy merchant, and they obeyed his orders. Unfortunately, as the horses struggled to pull it over the rocks, the front wagon broke an axle and the caravan was forced to stop again.
"Now look what you've done!" Chelsby blustered. "Do you know how much these wagons cost?"
"Yes," said Rhavin, "which is why we're trying to save them. Be quiet, please."
With the help of some of Chelsby's stronger guards, Rhavin, Morallan and Morgan moved up and began moving the rocks. Alanna and I conferred about possible spells to assist them, but we couldn't come up with any.
They were in the middle of this, when the cyclops appeared. He came into view just paces away from our friends, head and shoulders towering about the pile of rocks.
"Surrender your wagons," he yelled, "and we'll let you live."
For a second, no one moved. My mind raced, wondering how to stall for time while we looked for some advantage, or tried to find the Cyclops' cohorts. Chelsby didn't give us time for that. Raising a fist from his "safe" spot in the back wagon, he screamed for his men to attack. They pulled their swords and began racing forward, joined by Morallan and Morgan. Rhavin went to swing at the cyclops, only to stop in his tracks as it twisted a ring around its finger and disappeared.
Then a huge shadow fell over us. We looked up to see an enormous, bronze dragon, easily the size of six city blocks, with an ogre riding on its back. We barely had time for this bizarre scene to register before the dragon opened its maw and breathed lightning upon us. There was a thunderous crack, the stench of ozone filled the air as the deadly bolt arced first to Rhavin, then to a young guard named Caleb, then to me and Alanna. I screamed as the white-hot energy arced through my body, sending every nerve screaming with pain. I fell to my knees and looked at Caleb. He stared back at me with lifeless eyes, his face a blackened husk. Rhavin staggered, then rushed to do battle with a fire giant that had appeared beside the wagons. Some of the guards were running in terror of the dragon. Others were shooting arrows at a dwarf and a fox-man that had appeared in the air above them.
I crawled to the pile of rocks and struggled to my feet. Hidden by the shadows, I cast a spell, withdrawing into a private dimension where time stood still. For a few minutes I just stood there, trying to calm down. The dragon had almost killed me. I'd never thought death could happen so fast. I shook with the fear of it. But I had to calm down. I healed myself as best I could, then cast a spell to protect myself against attack. That done, I summoned up my courage and stepped out of the spell.
Chaos reigned in the narrow pass. Many of Chelsby's guards were dead. All of my friends were injured. They were furiously attacking the strange creatures. In the distance I could see the dragon circling for another attack. Why would a bronze dragon hurt innocent people? Or work with ogres? I had to find out. I withdrew an expensive sapphire from my pouch and cast one of my more powerful spells, asking what are these creatures attacking us?
The answer I got was astonishing. They were ogre magi. A strange race of ogres from the far east, they were just as evil as their western cousins, but they possessed intelligence, a strange code of honor, and various magical abilities. Some were wizards. All of them could turn invisible (that explained our unseen spy), shape-change, and attack their enemies with deadly cones of cold. They also regenerated injuries. Strangely, the dragon was a baby dragon, too young to be flying. Though we later learned that the ogres had raised the thing and magically aged it with a staff of withering, at the time I thought they might have charmed it somehow, or were controlling it with a magical item. So, when the dragon came around for another pass, I gritted my teeth and stepped out of hiding -- I had to get within spell range. As it came past, I cast dispel magic, hoping somehow it would disrupt the ogre's hold on the creature, if only temporarily (now I doubt my spell had any effect at all).
The creature circled out of sight, but not before breathing on us again. This time it breathed its repellent gas, which drifted over the guards, panicking most of them. Morallan and Morgan also succumbed, joining what was left of Chelsby's men in a mad dash over the pile of rocks. As they fled, two of the ogre magi blasted them with cones of cold, killing many of them.
Rhavin was stilling battling the "fire giant," and he wasn't looking good. I hurried over and healed him. It was strange, being in the midst of so much chaos. All around me the clash of weapons and the screams of the dying and wounded made such a din, I could barely think, let alone tell Rhavin what I'd discovered. Nearby I heard Alanna chanting and the "fire giant" reeled, suddenly blinded. I'm not sure what happened after that. But the fight soon ended, and the dragon did not return. Those repelled by the gas gradually filtered back to us. We were left in the middle of the trail with a broken wagon, surrounded by the dead. Only a handful of Chelsby's young guards had survived. Morallan and I did what we could to heal them.
"We should put the dead to rest," Morallan said sadly.
"There's no time for that," said Chelsby. "We have to get the wagons out of here."
I'd been standing with Coben, a young, sandy-haired kid who was sobbing over the body of his friend, the young wizard. Chelsby's cruelty stung me. Maybe it had something to do with my own terror -- it's not like me to become so angry, but I flew into a rage at the merchant. I stomped over to him and glared up at him.
"You bastard," I swore. "These poor kids are dead because of you. You had no right to bring inexperienced kids up here in the first place..."
"They knew what they were getting into," he interrupted me. "I paid them..."
"You paid them. Is that all you care about? If you hadn't stupidly ordered the attack, they might still be alive. From now on Rhavin gives the orders." I looked around at the assembled guards, who were all staring at me in astonishment. "Does everyone understand that?"
A few of them nodded. Chelsby was not well liked.
"How dare you?" he blustered. "These are my men. I hired them. And you, I might add. You all work for me."
"You don't own us," I spat. "And no amount of payment will change the fact that these poor kids' deaths are all your fault."
"Why you little witch. If you were a man, I'd challenge you to a duel."
"A duel!" I was appalled that the stupid merchant thought he could salvage his meager honor in such a foolish manner. I started to insult him again when Rhavin stepped between us. Gently but firmly he pushed me behind him.
"There won't be any duels. Nikita, calm down." He looked sternly at Chelsby. "We are going to build a pyre for the dead. Morallan will take care of it while the rest of us move those rocks. I suggest you have some of your men fix that axle."
"What about the dragon?" one of the guards asked fearfully.
"Don't worry," said Alanna. "Nikita and I will keep a look-out." This didn't seem to reassure anyone -- it wasn't the dragon sneaking up on us that had been the problem. But it was the best we could do. Chelsby grudgingly agreed to Rhavin's plan and everyone set to work.
It was well past dark when a path had been cleared for the wagons. We joined Morallan to sing a brief hymn over the dead and moved on. We were exhausted and couldn't go far at night, but no one wanted to make camp in the midst of so much carnage. We moved away for about an hour, then stopped for a dispirited dinner.
While avoiding Chelsby, Morallan and I moved among the guards and offered what encouragement we could. I spent some time talking to their leader, an experienced and cool-headed man named Saben. He was about thirty, tall and handsome with brown hair and green eyes. Saben had been kind and respectful through-out the trip, and he listened patiently when I explained that, in the future, he should encourage his men to take their orders from Rhavin over Chelsby.
Saben shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I don't know. Chelsby did hire us."
"I understand that. But look what just happened. He's a merchant, not a military man like you. He has no business making battle decisions. I'm not saying you should betray the man. Follow his orders when it comes to where to go and how to make camp. But when it comes to a fight, look to Rhavin and Morallan. Don't charge into battle because that blow-hard tells you to. After all, he was the one cowering in the back while the rest of you did the fighting."
Saben smiled kindly at me. "You have a point there, miss. I'll have a talk with my men. I'm sure we can work something out. After all, Chelsby doesn't have to know."
"Good thinking."
I heard Rhavin approach, calling my name. He stopped, looking uncertainly from me to Saben. "I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?"
"No, not at all. Rhavin, can you help me gather everyone together? I learned some important information during the fight, and I want to share it with everyone. Except Chelsby. It would be easier without his interference." Rhavin agreed. While the merchants were busy preparing dinner, he managed to gather together the guards and our party without attracting Chelsby's attention. As briefly as I could, I explained everything I'd learned from the spell. I ended by pointing out that, if we could break whatever hold the ogre magi had on the dragon, maybe by stealing the item they were using to control it, the beast would be on our side. The guards had mixed feelings about this -- some were doubtful, but others were encouraged.
"But what do we do now?" one of the younger ones asked fearfully. "Just because we know what they are doesn't mean they can't kill us."
Morallan stepped up and scowled at him. (He has a very imposing scowl, does Morallan). "Have courage, soldier. You're still alive. If we all stick together, you'll stay that way. Now listen to Rhavin."
I'm not sure if he was reassured by Morallan's words or terrified, but the young guard got quiet. Rhavin ordered them back to their posts, cautioning them not to mention anything to Chelsby. We spent a restless night, with all of us keeping watches.
The next morning we came in sight of the ruins. While Morallan and Morgan patrolled with the wagons, Rhavin, Alanna and I were walking a little way ahead, looking for signs of trouble. Although he wasn't happy about it, Alanna and I persuaded Rhavin that the safest thing to do would be to leave the caravan behind while the five of us went into the ruins to look for the ogre magi. (The safest thing for the caravan, that is. I had my doubts about our welfare, but I wasn't about to say anything -- I didn't want them to think I was scared.) We strolled back to the wagons, and Rhavin suggested that Chelsby find a good place for them to camp while we took care of the problem. While he was arguing with Chelsby, I went over to reassure the guards.
"Don't worry," I said to Saben. "Ogre magi are evil, but they have a weird code of honor. They'll come after us first before they bother with the caravan." Saben nodded, but the other guards looked fearful. I realized I had to do more to reassure them. I looked around. Besides the guards, only Alanna was looking in my direction. Everyone else was watching Rhavin fight with Chelsby.
"Just to be safe," I added, "I'm going to cast a spell to protect all of you."
"What sort of spell?" asked Beronan. He was the youngest guard, just a kid of seventeen, and even the latest fiasco with the dragon hadn't quelled his curiosity. I smiled at him.
"It's a spell of protection. It will make sure that no monsters come after you. You'll be safe while we're gone."
Beronan's eyes lit up. "You mean, nothin' can hurt us?"
I sensed danger in the form of eager young guards hunting out trouble because they thought nothing could touch them. "Not as long as you stay close to the wagons," I added hastily. "Within ten feet, say. Saben, is it okay if I cast the spell?"
"Yes, miss. That would be kindness."
I had them all lined up and then began muttering fake incantations, waving my arms in the air. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Alanna grinning. She understood the good intentions behind my deception, and she was amused.
"All right, it's done."
"We'll be all right now?" asked Alard. He'd been badly wounded by the ogre magi in that first attack, and only Morallan's quick healing had saved his life. The poor guy had been skittish ever since.
"Yes," I assured him. I looked at Saben, a malicious thought coming to mind. "Since Chelsby wasn't here, he won't be protected. Make sure he stays inside the wagon, and tell him he mustn't speak at all, or he'll attract monsters and break the spell."
The guards all looked alarmed at this, and I knew without doubt that they'd keep the merchant quiet. He wouldn't be harassing them while we were gone. Saben smiled at me and kissed my hand. "Thank you, miss. You've been very kind."
"It was nothing," I said honestly, and went to join my companions. Rhavin had finally calmed Chelsby down, and we were ready to be off.

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