From atop the cliff, Méabh unleashed another blast of electric destruction that slashed across the ranks of the lizardmen's left wing. Eloy, Uruk and the Fionath warriors behind the barricades continued to rain poisoned missiles into the oncoming ranks. A hail of javelins came back in response, and some of the Fionath went down. Eloy's yells of encouragement mingled with the lizards' hoarse snarls of anger as the attackers reached the barricades and hand-to-hand fighting erupted along the defences.
Gorfang kicked Shamlakh back into action after Venia's death and rode after the lizardmen charging towards the temple entrance on the right wing. Berretlan, still behind him, flung a javelin that skewered one of the invaders very neatly, and then the considerable mass of well-loaded warg, powerful armoured orc and seven feet of lizardman smashed into the back of the enemy.
Taken by surprise by the onslaught of teeth, blade and spear, the invading lizardmen were slow to react, and within seconds the entire rear of the unit went down dead, dying or poisoned. The rest stopped advancing on the Temple and turned to confront this new threat.
Varying her tactics, Méabh changed to her Wand of Magic Missiles and sent a blast of five bolts of magical energy at a foe on the left wing. The attack tore right through him and, already weakened by the lightning attack, he dropped dead into the mud.
Faced with more foes, Gorfang snarled in relish, plying the Veldrin with vicious skill and slaying left and right. Below him, Shamlakh siezed unfortunate lizards by the leg and hurled them to the ground with a twist of his mighty shoulders, allowing Gorfang to despatch them with relative ease. Berretlan laid about himself with his spear, guarding their backs effectively as the entire right wing of the battle attempted to enfold and surround them.
Spears stabbed and jabbed in both directions through the barricades at the gateway, punctuated by the harsh cries of lizard warriors. Bleeding from several wounds, Eloy fought on, wielding the sword Bereloth and feeling it encourage him as he battled. Nearby, Uruk's huge sword was hampering him in the close quarters of the gateway, and he had resorted to a mace instead.
Méabh sent another levinbolt tearing into the force fighting Gorfang, and the orc felt his coarse black hair stand up on end at the nearness of the strike. Scorched and burned lizardmen were easy prey, though, and within moments he and his comrades had slain all but three of their opponents, though Gorfang was covered in minor wounds by the time they broke. The survivors tried to flee, but they couldn't match Shamlakh for speed, and he hunted them down to the last one.
The sight of this added to the casualties they were taking was too much for the lizards attacking the gateway, and they too broke off and retreated, pursued by javelins, arrows and hand crossbow bolts. These reduced the fugitives to one survivor. As he ran through the Fionath village, the lurking Lynien potted him neatly through the side of the neck with a shortbow arrow and the battle was over.
Behind the barricades, Eloy and Bog were bandaging the wounded and tending them as well as possible without resorting to magic. Méabh had descended the cliff with the aid of a potion of Spider Climb, and had gone to check out the corpse of Venia. The returning Gorfang likewise went to loot the Red Lizard, first of all cutting his head off and impaling it on a fallen spear.
Between the Red Lizard's mighty claws they found a single reptillian scale, much like a lizard scale but much, much bigger. It radiated magic, and from his position it was clear he was just preparing to snap it when he died. Identify revealed it to be enchanted with the spell Word of Recall; it had been his planned escape route. Although briefly tempted to ride the spell back with him to find out where he'd come from, the party eventually decided to rig a means to set it off without touching it, and the headless body vanished as it was instantly teleported back to his sanctuary.
Conversation with Berretlan revealed that the Red Lizard was reputed to come from the holy city of Imjorst, deep in the inner swamps. No Fionath knew where it was, for its' location was a carefully kept secret of the most trusted initates of Shushkrah.
The loot from Venia and the Red Lizard amounted to the following:
| Item | Notes | Taken By |
|---|---|---|
| +1 half plate | Lizardman shaped | Arlahal (Berretlan's best surviving warrior) |
| +1 light wood shield | Arlahal | |
| +2 battleaxe | Berretlan | |
| +1 short spear | Arlahal | |
| + full plate | Lizardman shaped | Berretlan |
| +1 small shield | Berretlan | |
| Potion | Cure Serious Wounds | Méabh |
| Coins | 22gp, 16sp, 13cp |
The Fionath were grievously reduced. A mere eleven of their warriors remained alive, none without wounds of some kind. The loss of their shaman and the health-giving powers of the Crystal Pyramid (which Méabh had told them was broken) left their prospects pretty bleak in the savage world of tribal warfare. Nonetheless (as they saw it), without the adventurers they would have been exterminated, and Berretlan was deeply grateful for this. The decision to leave him with the Red Lizard's armour and weapons reassured him enormously, and once Méabh had shown him how to use the Hall of Sight he felt confident his people would survive. He gave orders for the slain Fionath to be added to the corpses already laid out in the Hall of Life, in the hopes of their return. The enemy bodies were burned.
This 
feeling was severely put to the test, however, when the adventurers started making plans to destroy the crystal pyramid - the Deathbreaker as they now knew it to be. "My friends," he said carefully, "I owe my life and my tribe to your help, and I know we can't possibly oppose you; but I do not want you to destroy the Crystal of the Gods. Our tribe's health and strength have come from it for generations, and without it the Gods will turn from us!" Méabh put a reassuring arm around his shoulders. "Don't you worry about a thing," she said hypnotically, as the spell Touch of Idiocy took hold of the unfortunate lizardman, "everything's going to be all right." Looking confused, Berretlan wandered away. Méabh chuckled darkly to herself.
Reaching the top of the stairs down from the Hall of Life, Gorfang and Eloy looked at each other and shrugged. Might as well use the natural features.... they tipped the litter and the Crismyrlor tumbled down the stairs.
As it struck each step, it rang like a bell, producing a din of dissonant noise that could clearly be heard from outside the complex. On reaching the bottom, it bounced off the wall, knocking chips from the solid rock, and came to rest... intact. When the pair reached it , they found that the golden filligree it was wrapped in was damaged in several places, but the essential pyramid was absolutely unaffected. Loading it back on the litter, they carried it outside.
Gorfang selected the Maul of Brutality, spat on his hands, and swung with all his might at the tip of the pyramid. The ringing clang was even greater this time, painful this close, but the effect was the same. Several more thunderous blows produced no more results, other than mild deafness, and he and Eloy took time out to stuff their ears with mud to muffle the noise.
Undeterred, the Orc used Méabh's rope to haul the thing up the cliff and chuck it off again, aiming it accurately at the rocks of the barricade. It bounced and settled deep into the mud, unharmed.
Méabh tried a different tack. She unpacked potion of Vision she'd been carrying for a while, and used its' magic to seek for ways that the Deathbreaker could be destroyed. The results were 'dragonfire; it will become brittle in extreme heat or extreme cold; superior magic of the kind it was made with'. Gorfang chose fire.
A large bonfire of dead lizardmen was already burning. Adding to it everything flammable that they could find, they pushed the pyramid into it and 
sat back to await developments. Méabh, who of them all had the clearest idea what scale of magical power might be bound up in such an item, retired to the Hall of Sight and observed things from a distance. Slowly, the pyramid got hotter and hotter. The last of the gold-work melted off and disappeared. After around half an hour, Gorfang hefted the Maul and lined himself up before unleashing a blow with every ounce of his mighty frame behind it. With a ringing detonation many times louder than anything they'd heard so far, the pyramid exploded into a blizzard of flying green splinters. Battered, deafened, and covered in blood, Gorfang threw his head back and screamed a barbaric orcish warcry of utter triumph.
Across the planes, in a wide variety of places, beings of great power lifted their heads - or nearest equivalent - in recognition of a sound that was not a sound, a sound only they could hear, and nodded or otherwise expressed satisfaction and a certain relief. All over Alair, those allied to these beings relaxed at last, as their masters' near-panic subsided. And deep in the ground, somewhere, an incoherent scream of rage and frustration shook the vaulting and shifted the dust.....
As 
she left the Hall of Sight, and passed through the Hall of Life, something occurred to Méabh. She went to the plinth the Deathbreaker had sat upon, and located the golden contacts that it had rested on. Reaching out both hands, she gently touched both at once. The result was instant - and painful. With a bright flash, a release of energy blasted her across the Hall to smack into the wall and slide down into an ignominious upside-down heap. As she sorted herself out and flexed her scorched fingers, she was extremely glad no-one had seen her do that. It had. however, successfully proved what she wanted it to - that there was still power being fed from the powerstones to the plinth.
Outside, the travellers were saying their last farewells to the Fionath. Eloy had left the pistol crossbows with the warriors, who had all but adopted him and Uruk after their shared stand in the gateway. He also gave his book on the wildlife of the Trakar to the still dazed Berretlan, who appeared impressed. It wasn't until a couple of days later that it occurred to Eloy to wonder if the lizard chieftain could actually read....
Fionath Poison Each jar holds 10 doses |
Gorfang and Méabh both acquired pots of the powerful frog-based poison the Fionath had used on their javelins.
After a good night's rest, the party mounted back up onto their riding lizards and headed back out of the Trakar towards Nasirolan.
Three days into the journey, Gorfang narrowed his eyes as he saw - or thought he saw - a movement off to his right. He stared through the mist and trees, trying to get a clearer view. Unable to see more, he guided Shamlakh in between the other lizards and slipped off, leaving the warg to continue on. Moving as stealthily as he was able (not much!) through the trees, he tried to close with the movement he'd seen. For an instant, he saw - four? five? - humanoid figures through the murk. Then they were gone, and when he reached the place where they'd been, he found no trace. He tried to look for tracks, but the swamp was ankle-deep in water here, and there was no mud to hold prints. Muttering he returned to the others.
His day wasn't improved by a consensus opinion that the head of the Red Lizard, still dangling from his belt, smelled awful and should be ditched. Typically, he did no such thing....
Three days after that, the party rode into Nasirolan, glass-towered capital of Dalaghendor. After trading in their riding lizards ready to purchase some horses, the first order of business was securing lodgings. Once again, Lynien and Méabh selected an inn they knew the more martial members of their band would not be welcome in; the Line of Fire, a nice place in the administrative district. The landlord, Vezdor, was welcoming to the strange-looking but well-spoken woman with the local accent and the rather quiet girl with the elegant rapier, though unsure where to place them among the merchants and diplomats who were his usual clientele. Before very long, they were ensonsced in comfortable rooms with the baths they craved. Meals were served in their rooms and they retired to soft beds with clean sheets. For Méabh this was relaxing; what she had forgotten was that for Lynien, relaxation was boredom....
Gorfang, Eloy and Uruk, with Bog trailing behind, wandered across town to the Mercenaries' Guild. The Mercenaries were one of the three power blocs in Nasirolan, along with the Mageguild and the government - synonymous with the Temple of Shushkrah. The Mercenaries, mastered by Hadrakos Shadowspear, maintained a large guildhouse in the middle of the city, part inn, part barracks, part fortress. Warriors of all kinds and stamps lived there for various lengths of time, either as guild members or for a nominal fee. For a few silvers, the three were comfortably if simply accomodated, fed good hearty fare and cheap booze, and even provided with (cold) baths.
The next morning, Gofang stirred slowly. As reality returned, he realized that he was sprawled across a table. Groaning at the pain in his head, he looked around the bar. The building was still standing; so he'd not really got drunk, then. Reassured, he slumped back down and went back to sleep.
A couple of hours later, feeling better, he got up, and wandered back down to see Stenfors at Dorsan's the knowledge merchant's. He added what he'd learned to the description of Anaric and paid for his research to date.
Eloy, rather less incapacitated, got up later that morning to discover a note from Méabh, informing him that Lynien had not returned the night before and asking if he knew her whereabouts. The sorceress had checked Lynien's equipment and discovered the young rogue's black night gear missing; her day gear and clothes, and the rapier Balacalantar, were still in her room. Eloy was worried; he decided to go and look.
He started out at the tower inhabited by the town watch, where he enquired if they'd seen her. The sergeant on the desk answered blithely that he hadn't, his face unreadable, and Eloy moved his search elsewhere.
After searching half the town, and manging (just) to stay in the Line of Fire long enough to discover that she'd not returned there, he returned to the guard house and asked again, this time of a differerent man. He eyed the warrior narrowly.
"What's your connection with this... person?" he asked. "She owes me money," responded Eloy smartly. "I'm not surprised," commented the guard dryly. "She's in custody." Eloy nodded as if unsurprised. "Can I post her bail?" he asked. The guard weighed him up for a moment. "Five hundred in gold," he said at last. "Done!" said Eloy at once, and unpouched the requisite currency on the spot. It vanished into a pocket, and the guard - looking rather anxiously down the corridors as he left the office - went to fetch the young rogue. As she was turned over to Eloy, the latter looked at the empty sheathes on her thighs and said, "her weapons as well, please?" The guard shook his head, but a moment later Lynien leaned over and whispered something quietly in his ear. He went pale and quiet, and hastened inside again, returning with a pile of weapons and equipment which he shoved into their hands before ushering them back out into the street.
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