From: Mike Whitaker <MIKEW@SDL.MDCBBS.COM>
Subject: STORY: Midnight's Bane - part 15
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc
Date: Thu, 15 Oct 1992 21:46:41 GMT

Elsewhere...

	"...I'll see you on the Abyss first!" A woman's voice, defiant.
	"You may prefer it to what our friend has planned." replied a smooth
male voice. "Observe, and do remember you are currently unable to use magic."
There was silence for around five seconds, and then the woman's voice, tinged
with horror. "Gods...!" The sound of a brief scuffle, then a third voice spoke
with a strange hissing quality, horrible in its utter lack of feeling.
 	"If I ssso choose, you will willingly accept its kissss, and yield up
the pendant asss well." There was a sigh, as if of pleasure, save that no human
throat could have made it, and then a seemingly endless silence, which was
broken by the woman's screams.
	"No!.....Take it away, please... no, no.... take it...... yes... just
make it stop, please...... please....." Her voice trailed away into harsh sobs,
as the first male spoke.
	"Do you relinquish the Phoenix pendant to me?"
	"I....ahh..." The girl fought for control of her voice, and then, in a
tone that was ragged and full of bitterness, said "Yes - here, take it, damn
you." She fought back another sob. "Just, please, keep that damn thing away
from me." The man chuckled, mirthlessly.
	"Excellent."
	"It hasss peformed well," said the hissing voice. "Now you have what
you want out of thisss woman, ssshe will make an excellent addition to the
blood." Again the inhuman sigh, and simultaneously, the first man's voice,
sharply. "No!" There was a roar of flame, and a wash of heat, followed by a
"Hah!" of satisfaction from the first man. "She is not to be harmed."
	"You will regret this, priessst," the other voice hissed, making the
title sound like an insult, and then two sets of footsteps could be heard
receding, till all was silent save for the sound of the girl taking long
shuddering breaths that were more than half sobs.



	The night passed uneventfully. Around an hour or two before sunrise,
Anya shook Angron awake for the final watch. The two conversed for a moment in
soft whispers, until their voices were stilled by the clatter of a stone
skidding across the ground from the direction of the cave mouth. Moving with
care and economy of motion, Angron leant over and shook Hawk. The ranger
snapped awake in an instant, hand to the blue-wrapped hilts of his sword,
likewise the already half-awake Drax. Anya motioned for silence, and a man's
voice could be heard, speaking in fairly low and guarded tones, from by the
cave mouth, behind the boulder.
	"I still say she can't have gone this way." A second, male, voice, less
heedful of being overheard, with a clipped and precise Andor accent.	
	"Just because your people never found this passage, Artain, don't
credit the little witch with the same level of incompetence...."
	"She's still hiding somehwere in the chambers back there, I tell you."
The second voice snorted derisively.
	"Which you and your men investigated thoroughly, of course - so
thoroughly you failed to find the passage we have just walked down." There was
a momentary pause. "Right. Artain, Llewellyn, Ivan, search this valley with me.
Ellyn, cover this entrance." Four figures detached themselves from the shadow
of the boulder and spread out across the valley, moving towards the party...
 	Unable to see around the corner but sensing the danger in his
companions, Drax reached for his vest and quietly slipped it on, followed by
his belt. Quick hands checked to see that spell components were in easy reach
before drawing a pair of flat-bladed daggers and secreting them in his blouse
sleeves. Meanwhile, Hawk indicated the boulder by the cave mouth with one
gauntleted hand, and then made a 'keep back" gesture, before hugging close to
the rocky side of the canyon and creeping forward. Anya, dagger in hand, melted
silently into the shadows by the overhang...
	Drax moved up beside Angron and mouthed the words "friends of yours?",
then grinned ferally.  Slipping back to the corner, he whispered a quick few
words, watching in satisfaction as his hands and body disappeared from sight.
Slipping back to where Angron was, he whispered, "I'm right here and I'll
follow you in."  The priest stepped forward out of the shadows into a patch of
moonlight. 	
	"Greetings, friends. We had no idea this valley was inhabited." The
leader of the advancing group, a man carrying a mace, fair haired and
sharp-featured, made a "stop" gesture to his advancing companions, two
swordsmen and a crossbowman. His voice was that of the second speaker, a
clipped and precise Andor accent.
	"We? I only see one of you. Or do you count your warrior friend over
there." He indicated Hawk's hiding place with a wave of his mace, and the
dark-clad ranger straightened up from his crouch and moved casually forward
till he was idly leaning against the canyon wall some 10 feet from the nearest
swordsman, sword tip resting on the ground. "Far enough, I think," observed the
man.
	"Call it a safety measure." Hawk remarked drily. The man raised an
eyebrow.
	"You have business in these mountains?" Angron nodded.
	"We are being employed to look for wyverns' eggs." Another of the
group, the man with the crossbow, snorted, and received a glare from the
fair-haired man, who then turned back to face Angron, a half-smile on his face.
	"You doubt his word?" enquired Hawk, smoothly.
	"Shall we say, I find myself unconvinced?" Angron shifted his balance
subtly before replying.
	"Might I ask what *your* business is here?" The fair-haired man
frowned, and then his eyes narrowed as he studied Angron closely, then snapped.
	"No you may not." He gestured to his men. "Take them."

	The narrow valley exploded into activity. The fair-haired man stepped
back several paces, dropped his mace and began to chant. The swordman on his
right moved forward to engage Angron, who was standing ready for him, his own
mace drawn. Hawk engaged the remaining swordsman, while the crossbowman raised
his weapon and aimed at the priest. Just as he was about to fire, the form of
Drax, somewhat enlarged, materialised in front and slightly to one side,
grabbing for the crossbow, which went off in the struggle, the bolt whizzing
uncomfortably close to Angron, and fell to the ground. Its owner staggered
back, pushed by Drax, struggled to maintain his balance and then fell heavily
backwards. The mage bent swiftly over and knocked him out, then straightened up
to survey the scene...
	His chant reaching a peak, the fair-haired man raised his arms in a
dramatic gesture, when a dagger flashed out of the shadows, spinning almost
lazily end-over-end, and buried itself deep in his shoulder. Breaking off his
chant with a cry of pain, he removed the dagger, staunching the flow of blood
with one hand, and directed a baleful glare at Anya, now just visible in the
shadows to his left...
	It became rapidly apparent that Hawk's adversary was no match for him -
the dark-clad ranger's blued-steel blade was almost invisible in the semi-
darkness. Hawk made a couple of passes to test his opponent, resulting in the
ring of steel upon steel, and then with ruthless efficiency his sword licked
out, starting out low, and then, having extended his opponent with a simple
feint, thrusting up under the ribs. The swordsman doubled over the blade, then
collapsed with a gurgling moan, his sword falling from lifeless fingers as Hawk
pulled his strange blade free...
	Angron's opponent seemed more competent. The priest swiftly abandoned
all idea of breaking free of the fight to spell-cast, and concentrated on
defending himself with the light mace he favoured. The two played a game of cat
and mouse for a moment or two, several glancing blows striking to little real
effect, before the taller Angron's height and reach advantage finally won
through, and his opponent took a heavy blow to the chest and fell unconscious
to the ground...
	From behind the boulder, another figure wielding a sword appeared. This
last was a woman, dressed as the others in dark tunic over mail. The
fair-haired figure glanced over his shoulder at her, then, with his good arm,
snatched a pendant from round his neck and hurled it to the ground. There was a
flash of bright light, so bright as to be painful, and when everyone had
recovered their sight, he was nowhere to be seen, or heard. The woman stood
slack-jawed for a moment, before noticing the body at Hawk's feet.
	"You bastards! You killed him...!" With this she rushed Hawk, screaming
and sobbing incoherently. The ranger, grimly silent, parried her first flurry
of badly-aimed blows before disarming her with a twist of his blade, then
dropped his weapon, as she attacked him with fists, and neatly knocked her out,
catching her as she slumped senseless to the ground.
	Angron was bleeding from a couple of superficial cuts as he bent to
seek the pendant the fleeing man had thrown, aided by Anya. The keen eyed bard
pointed to a glint of glass, and Angron's expression deepened to a frown as
Anya used the tip of her dagger to clear the grass away from around the halves
of an hourglass-shaped pendant, broken at the narrow neck in the middle. The
bard looked quizzically at him, before noticing Drax behind him.
	"What is it...? Are you hurt, Drax?" The tall mage was holding one hand
in the other, and grimaced ruefully.
	"Crossbow went off as I was grabbing for it. I think the string or the
bow hit my fingers." The priest examined Drax's hand, then murmured a few
prayers over it. Drax flexed the fingers, then smiled. "Good as new."
	"You're lucky," remarked the priest. "If it *had* been the string, you
might be missing a finger." Hawk returned from a brief survey of the cave-
mouth, frowning.
       	"He must either be invisible or have teleported. At least, he didn't
escape up the passage. What about these four?" A quick check revealed that
Hawk's opponent was indeed dead, and Angron's beyond all aid. Hawk turned to
the rest of the group.		
	"I do not believe that we should stay here a moment longer. To do so
could mean certain death. Whoever they were," he indicated the dead bodies,
"they probably had friends who will want revenge. One carefully placed fireball
in here could fry us all. I would suggest that we deal with the prisoners and
then move - even if it is only a few hundred yards from here it would still
give us time to react to any future threat. If they return and teleport in
here..." He let his sentence trail off for effect. Angron glanced up at the
ranger. 	
	"See what they tell us so we know where they might run to - other than
into our backs in the tunnel. If there is no way we can leave them safely, that
makes it self-defence. Other than that, give them a choice of a quick death or
taking their chances tied up with whatever animals live around here." Hawk
frowned, and shook his head.	
	"I won't be party to killing them - nor do I think we dare leave them
behind. That only leaves one solution: we take them with us. They might be of
use as hostages in dealing with anyone else we meet." Drax returned to where
the crossbowman lay unconscious and carefully searched him for concealed
weapons, taking careful note of everything on the body.
       	"Let's get these two to the passage and see if we can't find out who
sent them and why." Taking advantage of his increased size, the mage hoisted
the body of the crossbowman and carried it to the cave mouth, where he
deposited it, then busied himself with searching the bodies whilst Hawk picked
up the stunned woman and brought her over to the cave mouth. Angron and Anya
secured the two unconscious bodies. Hawk smiled at the bard as he gave her back
her dagger.
	"A well placed, and well timed attack. Remind me not to get on your bad
side!" The slim girl smiled wickedly.
	"I always like to lead with a dagger in an unknown situation." The
banter was interrupted by a groan from the crossbowman, who struggled briefly
in his bonds, then, conscious of the watchful gaze of Anya, toyng with her
dagger, fell still. Angron strolled over to where Drax, now back to his normal
height, had accumulated a small arsenal of swords and daggers, and a crossbow
and bolts, taken off the bodies.
	"Anything interesting?" The mage completed his spellcasting, and picked
a slim dagger out of the pile. 	"This is enchanted," He fished in a belt pouch
and handed Angron a ring from which hung three medium-sized keys. "And these
were on the one you fought." He frowned. "And the hourglass pendant was
enchanted - there is resuidual magic on it." The discussion was interrupted by
Anya.
	"Angron, Drax." They hurried across to when Anya and Hawk  were
watching the prisoners, both conscious. The two exchanged a glance, and then
the woman glared balefully at the grimly smiling ranger.
	"The dead one was your mate, I assume?" enquired Drax, gently. Both
remained sullenly silent. "Where did you come from?" Still no response.
	"Fine," said Hawk, "If that's the way you wish it to be." He loosened
his dagger in its belt sheath, and indicated the cave mouth. "We are going in
here, and you are coming with us. If either of you make any attempt to escape
or endanger our progress I won't hesitate to end your existence where you
stand." Turning from them he winked at Anya and smiled wryly.

	The cave mouth was around a hand's-breadth higher than Angron was tall,
and a shade wider than his shoulders. The lithe and slim Anya slipped in first,
followed by Hawk, followed by the woman, with Drax close behind, then the man,
then Angron bringing up the rear. The passage widened a little in the first ten
paces, but was still narrow enough that Anya, brushing the left hand wall with
her shoulder, could touch the right hand wall with her outstretched hand.
Angron pulled a small stone from a belt pouch, and the tunnel was lit by a soft
glow not dissimilar to moonlight, which cast no shadows, for about a dozen
paces around him. Onward they went, weapons drawn, Anya leading just outside
the pool of light, for what seemed like around half a mile. The two prisoners
remained silent. Eventually, they came to a sharp right-then-left kink in the
passage, coupled with a short stretch which was a very tight squeeze indeed.
Beyond that, the passage opened out, somewhat surprisingly, into a largish
chamber. Very carefully, using the glow of Angron's stone and Hawk's half-elven
sight, they determined the extent of this chamber, and satisfied themselves
there was but one exit. They were preparing to move on when a soft exclamation
escaped Hawk's lips. As the rest turned to look, they saw, upon the dark-metal
of the blade of his sword, flowing elven runes glowing a dull and angry red.
Softly, in a voice tinged with awe, Hawk read:
	"Midnight's Bane they call me: 	
	Life I steal from those	who would steal it."
There was a scream from the woman prisoner, as, on the edge of the pool of
light, first one, then another, creature appeared, moving silently with
frightening speed: roughly humanoid, but with deep blue skin, they towered
above them, eyes glittering redly. Each had four arms, the lower ending in
three fingered hands, the upper pair in huge and wicked-looking ivory claws...
--
This story is a compilation of a PBeM campaign, by:

	Mark Little ...................	Hawk
	Janet Huss .................... Anya
	Rob Holden .................... Drax
	Alan Braggins ................. Angron

	Mike Whitaker ................. GM and bug eyed monsters

Back episodes of Midnight's Bane are available by anonymous ftp from:
Machine name: 		quayle.mu.wvnet.edu	
Internet address:  	129.71.32.151