Tales of Faerun

[josh900]

In one of the far corners of the Great Dale, there was a chapel devoted to Kelemvor that sat atop a hill overlooking a village who's name would never appear on any maps. The evening air was cool and misty as a squadron of paladins, clerics, and other doomguides pushed their captive forward into the center of the chapel.

The bounded man hit the stone floor with a gasp of pain as he was pushed forward. "Take the sack off, let him see." Came a voice voice that held no pity for the captive man, and for good reason. As the sack was lifted off their prisoners head, his appearance showed his allegiance, the man's red robes, shaved head, and facial tattoos were all signs that he was Red Wizard. As he looked around at his surroundings, one of the paladins kneeled in front of him. From his armor and the way the others seemed to regard him, it was easy to see that he was in charge of this particular group, yet the only thing the Red Wizard could focus on was the hole where the paladin's left eye should be.

 

"So what brings a Red Wizard like yourself all the way out here?" He asked in his rough voice, speaking as if talking to a tied up man was the most normal thing in the world for him. "You came out all this way with that chest of yours in what I'm betting isn't a fishing trip." He said, motioning with his head the large, gold encrusted chest that they had caught the Wizard carrying.

 

The wizard snickered a bit. "Actually... if I told you it was.. what would you say?"

 

"I would say that you'll last two minutes of torture before you tell us everything about yourself, your purpose for being here, Thay.... everything." The paladin said in a bored tone. "So I'd suggest that you make this easy on yourself and start talking. Because we really don't need much of a reason to start cutting you."

 

"I'm not lying." Said the wizard. "My bait and pole are all kept in there. You can check it yourself." He encouraged them.

 

"And set off whatever trap you have on it? I don't think so. Last thing any of us want is a face full of acid or some other insidious device you have on the lock."

 

"So.. let me open it." The wizard offered.

 

"That's an even worse idea." The paladin smirked.

 

"And why's that?" The wizard laughed. "It's so easy to open after all, just a word is needed." He threatened, his face contorting into a vile sneer moments before a literal Hell was unleashed inside the chapel.

 

A single word was all it took, all that was needed to shatter the spirits of some of the younger paladins and leave them collapsed on the floor, writhing in fear and pain. A single word for every brightly lit candle and torch to be snuffed out in an instant, for the wizard's bindings to shrivel to dust, the gold of the chest to chip and fall off, the wood to rot away, and the hinges rust to dust. And from the chest finally shattered came a sight and stench that was the thing of nightmares, a torrent of decayed flesh and bile pooled onto the floor and an abomination in the eyes of the gods stood from the fetal petition it had been stored in.

 

Ten feet tall, weighing well more than half a ton, made up entirely of decomposed flesh, muscle, and bone, stood a horror that even the bravest of paladins never wish to see, an Angel of Decay.

 

The corruption it emitted was felt immediately, the holiness of the chapel could no longer be felt by even the most pious of men, the large tapestry which proudly displayed Kelemvor's holy signal unraveled and tore away, all the metals faded away, the wood rotted out, and every plant withered and died.

 

"ROLAND!!" A scream pulled the squad's leader out of his horrified state, and in a swift movement unsheathed his blade and thrust it into the wizard, piercing the Thayan's heart.

 

Those that could still stand charged the great abomination, but where quickly torn asunder by the creatures large claws and unholy magics. And as Sir Roland watched in horror, an icy hand grasped at his throat. "Behold," Said what should have been a dead Red Wizard. "Your new god." And with a flash of green, Roland's very soul was ripped away from his body and was met with blackness.

-----------

 

The Grey City, seat of Lord Kelemvor, though there were many that could claim that he pursued his god's work far too viciously, he had still devoted his entire existence to the Judge of the Dead. And so as he regained consciousness, he expected to find himself standing before the god he had served with every fiber of his being, instead it was not the Great Guide that he kneeled before, but the monstrosity that had slain his men.

 

"Rise" A low and muddy voice ordered him, and Roland's body obeyed. Unable to will his body to charge the great abomination, the horror of his situation dawned on the paladin. He had died, but his soul somehow remain bound to his body which no longer obeyed him, but the angel itself. He was no longer alive, but trapped inside his now undead body, whose armor had been stripped of all signs of his devotion to Kelemvor, and now his suit of armor now carried a different emblem, A black hand reaching out from an open grave, just as the armor of his men whom he had fought and died beside now shown. Showing that they now were slaves to the creature, who's purpose had yet to be revealed.

Their bodies, sewn back together and repaired of the wounds that fell them, would now only listen to the angel and it's servants, and in the coming days they rode out from the desecrated chapel, and slaughtered the village below, where once again the creature's Red Wizard servant rose the bodies from the dead, enslaving them and binding them to his will, forcing them and their souls to now worship the angel of decay as a living god of undeath.

[GrueMaster]

We'tak chee'd happily at the attention and food Sin was giving him, easily cheered up by the dark pointy-ear. "Many thanks to you, Sin!" He chittered in a joyful tone. "All this really does make me feel better. So, truly, thank you." The thri-kreen gave her a bow of respect from his seat. "You remind me almost of my clutchmother..." He said, pensively, studying his clutchmate. "She would stay by my side a lot, and always had some sort of food nearby." *CHEE!* We'tak gave a ecstatic whistle and embraced Sin in a strong hug, rubbing his head lovingly against her as he did so. "Aren't all clutchmates loyal to one another?" He responded to Maydiira's comment. "I know I am..."

With that said, he released his hug and immediately went back to eating, his voracious appetite not slowing down anytime soon.

"Right then, that should do it!" Kaji said, giving a stretch and a yawn as he finished his meditation. He had sat meditating all night to atone for his mistakes from the day before, and as he rose, the wu jen felt his power return as well.

Once the troublemaking fire genasi heard his wu jen accomplice emerge from his meditative stupor, he quietly and quickly ducked into the hallway outside his room, careful to maintain his unknown presence. With a mug of water carefully placed atop Kaji's door and a water basin on the floor outside of it, the exotic spellcaster was in for quite the surprise.

Hi-chan was rolling her eyes when she thought she heard something at the door. "Uh, Master..." Kaji, however, was too excited for the new day. "Oh, come on, Hi-chan, haven't I atoned en- AAAGH!!" *Bonk!* The wu jen shrieked in a high-pitch tone as water poured down his face and an empty mug fell squarely on his head.

"Owww!" Disoriented, Kaji flailed forward, failing to spot the bowl sitting in the hallway as panic began to overtake him. His foot caught the rim of the basin and flipped it, and all the water therein was launched at him, thoroughly drenching him clothes as he tripped fell unceremoniously on the floor. Speechless, Kaji could only stare blankly up at the ceiling, paralized by confusion and trepidation by what happened. "Kaji-kun! Are you okay?" Hi-chan scurried to her prone master, patting him on the face in a fruitless attempt to get him to move.

At the sight of such a miracle, Rameses exploded into a torrent of laughter, tears soon pouring from his eyes as his szuldar blazed with unprecedented energy. A small part of him pitied Kaji for the satisfying humiliation his reckless abandon had reaped, but the fire genasi indulged in his sweet victory. It took Rameses's sheer force of will to ensure he didn't topple to the floor in his bout of hysteric laughter. "It isn't a stool, but it'll do!" He wailed ecstatically, leaning a shoulder against the wall to stabilize himself.

Water... water... surrounding me... choking me...

Kaji was immobilized as the old sensations of drowning came back to him, his hydrophobia setting in. However, the sound of laughter snapped him out of the vicious trance, and the wu jen sat up, water dripping from his face. "Uh oh..." Hi-chan murmured as she felt the air grow hotter.

Water now turning to steam, Kaji slowly stood up and gave a dark, baleful smile at his "friend." "Very clever, Ramesesama," He said, picking up the water basin. The bowl began to glow with heat, before suddenly shattering. "YOU'LL WISH I HAD A BARSTOOL, YOU CRETIN!!" He shouted, before charging at the fire genasi, his body engulfed in flames now.

 

"Oh shi-" Rameses's increasingly regretful statement was swiftly interrupted when he bolted for the stairs, cursing in Ignan speech as Kaji remained hot on his heels, quite literally speaking. The fire genasi was quite familiar with fire, but the prospect of the wu jen's flaming hands around his neck was not at all enticing. In the matter of moments, the hot pursuit poured into the commons area, where Rameses then charted a hasty path for the nearest exit.

 

"Ramesesama! Get back here!" Kaji yelled, running after the fleeing fugitive out onto the streets, with a protesting Hi-chan close behind, trying to stop her angry master. The trio disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, the only evidence of their presence being a set of scorched footprints leading outside.

 

We'tak looked at his clutchmates in shock and confusion. "Are all fireskins like this...?"

 

=========================================================================================

 

We'tak looked around in wonder from beneath his blue bonnet, simply amazed by the preparations for the "gala" around him. The thri-kreen, having been convinced to wear the dress and bonnet, was an odd sight to behold. He greatly disliked the clothing at first, feeling too constricted by it all. But, he acclimated quickly, and now didn't mind it at all. Besides... He thought with amusement as he pulled out a morsel from the dress's fold. It holds all sorts of tasty foods!

 

"What should we do first? Oh, what is that!? Oh, could we get one of those?" All these and more flew from the thri-kreen's mouth, clearly enthralled by child-like enthusiasm for the festivities.

 

 

"Does he ever keep quiet?" Kaji asked as he walked alongside Rameses. Though still somewhat angry with the fire genasi, he was more upset that he hadn't thought of the prank first. Clever imp... The wu jen struck an imposing figure, having cleaned up nicely for the celebration. Though he wore his usual attire, his clothes were cleaned to near-perfection for once. He was not the most orderly person around, but when important events were held, he made it a point to look as respectable as possible, and after a great deal of effort (and bravery, what with the water and all), Kaji had a spotless outfit.

 

"So where do we start?" He asked no one in particular. "Personally, I would love to meet with all these mages... perhaps one of them will kindly share some arcane knowledge with me!"

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses spent much of the day’s earlier half fleeing from Kaji, the two fireskins attempting to elude or apprehend one another throughout Furthinghome. Eventually, the fire genasi felt that the pursuit had finally been called off after several hours of successfully evading his livid companion. Quickly adorning a brazen smile, he began to stroll through the lavishly-decorated Aglarondan streets to indulge the constant energy of cosmopolitan life.

 

As he explored the city, however, Rameses quickly came to a worrisome revelation; he needed to invest in some higher quality attire for the gala if he wanted any hope of attending without later regretting his outfit. Unfortunately, the fire genasi’s funds had threatened to run out more than once since the group’s arrival to Furthinghome. Something had to be done to remedy that, but what could he do to earn some immediate, substantial pay?

 

To answer his own contemplation, an idea soon emerged in Rameses’s thoughts, which quickly developed into an arguably mad plan of action. With a fearless bound in his step, he went looking for a fight.

 

~

A black eye.

 

A busted lip.

 

A swollen jaw.

 

A pair of bloody knuckles.

 

The brightest, maddest grin the likes of which Furthinghome’s inhabitants or Rhaine’s adventurers had likely never seen.

 

Sure enough, the fire genasi’s financial strategy proved to be very profitable, even if he paid for his success in blood. Before the second day was out, he had found several hotspots where other brawlers and followers of Tempus like himself gathered to drink, to gamble, and to fight. The injuries Rameses sustained and the gold that filled his pockets with each passing day outweighed any bodily pain his passion resulted in.

 

Not to mention, there was a certain degree of satisfaction on a spiritual level to endure such magnificent mayhem before delivering it to the competition in equal measure.

 

Although, his rapidly deteriorating condition undoubtedly caught the attention of many, including Eirene. One evening after dinner was had and folks started retiring to their rooms for the night, the Mulhorandi confronted Rameses with a disproving frown, arms crossed. “What in the Hells have you been up to?”

 

Her concerned reprimand brought a crooked smirk to Rameses’s battered features, his szuldar smoldering peacefully like the waning fire of the Sage’s hearth. “Knowing wouldn’t make you feel any better.” He replied dismissively. The look he earned for being difficult amused him greatly.

 

“That pitiful excuse of an answer doesn’t comfort me, either.” The ranger replied sharply. As stubborn as her companion was—especially with her, Eirene was genuinely worried for the genasi.

 

Soon ushering a disheartened sigh when she showed no signs of ceasing her interrogation, Rameses divulged, “I’ve been frequenting the local fighting pits. It’s very lucrative business, you should try it sometime.”

 

Rameses was right. His explanation didn’t ease Eirene’s worries whatsoever.

 

“You can’t be serious.” She chided, frankly not all too shocked as she rubbed her brow in frustration. “Rameses Galeran, look at yourself. You shouldn’t partake in this madness; it’s nonsensical.”

 

“Says who?” The fire genasi replied with a genuinely entertained expression, which might have been difficult to read considering his nigh-countless bruises and scrapes. “I’ll fetch Lucas to patch me up the day before the parties start. Until then, why shouldn’t I be paid for what I do best?”

 

Clearly not getting anywhere with him anytime soon, the Mulhorandi abandoned her efforts, dismissing him with a curt statement, “You are a fool, Galeran. Goodnight.”

~

 

Oh, how the tenday quickly sailed past for those who eagerly anticipated the gala while it slowly dragged on for others. Eirene wasn't fortunate enough to count herself among the former, spending her days preparing to depart from the city as her companions did the exact opposite, making themselves comfortable and enjoying the festivities to their hearts' content. Once the gala—and the full moon with it—was a mere two days away, the Mulhorandi finished packing her bags and sought out the Doomguide. It was likely that Conall had already informed Rhaine of Eirene's afflictions, but the ranger felt a yearning need to speak for herself regardless.

 

When Eirene approached Rhaine, the Doomguide was not surprised; Conall had indeed informed her of the Mulhorandi's situation, and while she knew it was likely that Eirene would never willingly harm any of the party members, she also understood the need for Eirene to leave their company, just in case she could not control her curse-born, beastly impulses. She had expected Eirene to come forth herself at some point, and she suspected it was for the purpose of establishing an understanding between them. She nodded respectfully as Eirene drew near, and she waited for the Mulhorandi to speak first.

 

“Lady Doomguide,” Eirene greeted softly, dipping her head in respect. She tried to control the slight shuddering of her voice when she began explaining herself, “I am sad to say that I will be taking my leave from your troupe, at least until the full moon has come and gone.” That alone would hopefully be enough to insinuate her lycanthropy, for Eirene was exceedingly apprehensive about discussing the topic at all, much less in public.

 

Rhaine nodded, "Conall told me about your unfortunate situation. I am afraid I must agree with both his and your assessment that leaving our company is the best option during these times, at least until significant changes occur...if they occur." She sighed and added, "I will pray that Kelemvor watches and guides you in your absence, and that you return to us safe, Eirene."

 

The Chosen of Kelemvor’s sentiments brought a bittersweet smile to the ranger’s cinnamon countenance, and she offered a brief nod in agreement. “Yes...I have prayed to Selûne, too, with the hope that she might offer me strength in the coming nights.” Said Eirene, her words reeking with doubt, uncertainty, and most of all—fear.

 

Rhaine offered a mirrored smile of comfort, "Perhaps she shall."

 

“I can only hope and pray that she will,” She agreed with some degree of optimism, swallowing hard to relieve herself of the growing knot in her throat. “May fate smile upon you all, and enjoy the gala. Farewell.”

 

Turning on her heel, Eirene quickly strode out of The Gleeful Sage without another word. Taking foot out into the crowded streets, the Mulhorandi quickly became withdrawn as she carefully wove her path towards the city gates. She was one of the few amid the endless crowds who sought to leave the prosperous festivities behind.

 

Her leaving turned many heads, even the fire genasi’s.

 

~

Indeed, a brief exchange with Lucas the dawn before the widely-anticipated gala resolved most of Rameses’s maladies, but there was one particular gash along the fire genasi’s right cheekbone that left a rather comely scar despite his companion’s healing magic. Nevertheless, Rameses wore it proudly as a badge commending his fearlessness—and arrogance.

 

Laden with the coin his rather violent toiling had earned, the fire genasi eagerly visited the districts of commerce within Furthinghome alongside We’tak and Kaji with the intention of spending his modest fortune on a fine outfit or several while the opportunity presented itself.

 

“Only when he’s eating.” Rameses commented to the wu jen’s inquiry regarding the thri-kreen’s constant chattering, which the fire genasi honestly didn’t mind. When his fellow fireskin asked what was on the day’s agenda, he clasped his hands together and answered, “Well, I’m planning on visiting a tailor before tomorrow’s festivities, and a bit of leisurely browsing also couldn’t… hurt...”

 

Rameses’s speech quickly came to a halt when his eyes pierced the fluid crowds, settling upon the publicly-displayed wares of a resident elven blacksmith. The intrigued fire genasi forgot all else as he broke into a brisk stroll towards the smithy with a purposeful stride, beckoning his two companions to follow.

 

“Would you look at that...” He mused, his gaze washing over the beautiful craftsmanship of the elf’s metalwork. The elf in question—a tall, narrow-shouldered gentleman with a crimson cascade of hair pulled back into a ponytail and an odd gaze reminiscent of electrum—was occupied with other customers but did seem to notice Rameses’s awestruck disposition, offering a proud smirk before returning his attention to business.

 

Within moments, Rameses saw them stored safely in a locked glass case. They were two of the most beautiful, pristine scimitars he had ever laid eyes upon. Forged from the purest of white alloys that made sterling silver look like iron or lead in comparison, he could only imagine how much the mithril blades were worth.

 

He was about to point out the marvelous weapons to his friends when a chilling sound fell upon his ears, seizing his heart and rendering his own szuldar inert and deprived of light or warmth. Through the crowds’ buzz of activity, Rameses immediately recognized a familiar sneering cackle that boasted a sinister, almost serpentine suggestion. Wheeling around with hands reaching for his longsword and dagger, the fire genasi’s face lost much of its color as his runic szuldar exploded with distressed energy like violently volcanic fissures. To say that Rameses looked like he had seen—or heard, to be more accurate—a ghost would have been a bit of an understatement.

Edited April 20, 2016 by FreemasonGamer

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall was just meandering by, keeping We'tak well within his sight as he knew he ought, when Rameses's sudden reaction slightly alarmed him. The werewolf paladin pushed through the throng to the fire genasi's side and leaned close, glancing around at the swells of the crowd that moved all about them, "Are you all right? Did you see something?"

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses seemed too swept up in his panicked efforts of sifting through the crowds in search for the owner of the voice he had heard to immediately notice Conall's swift approach. A hurricane of emotions demanded his attention as he reeled from the sound of the voice; an odd combination of outrage and dismay would have been a fitting way to describe the storm surges that overbore the fire genasi's thoughts. Once the paladin's words fell upon his ears and penetrated his mind, Rameses gulped dryly and offered a feeble nod.

 

"I'm fine..." He lied, his clammy hands still resting on the pommels of his blades, "I... I thought I had heard something—someone, rather." Fumbling with his voice, Rameses reluctantly withdrew his hand away from his longsword to wipe his brow. As harrowing as it was to hear what acutely reminded the fire genasi of an old adversary, the haunting moment had passed, and he neither heard nor saw anything else worthy of alarm.

 

This did not mean that the danger was absent, however, and the prospect haunted Rameses still.

 

"Someone who I sincerely hope is not here, and that I am simply going mad." The fire genasi added shakily, his mystic szuldar markings continuing to shimmer fiercely as he contemplated worriedly.

 

Then, a realization struck him like a mule's kick to the chest. It had not been more than a day since the Mulhorandi's departure, and the vile snake she was once in league with might already have been in Furthinghome. Such a coincidence perturbed Rameses more than he could say, and he was rapidly approaching the point of jumping to his own conclusion. Glancing around the crowds, the fire genasi leaned towards Conall and remarked pointedly, "If I'm right, we have a problem on our hands concerning our late ranger and the unsavory character that led her to us—me, specifically."

Edited April 24, 2016 by FreemasonGamer

[josh900]

As the days went by, Leif busied himself with aiding in the day to day management of the Inn, Azuris kept himself away from the group, not in an unfriendly sort of way, merely enjoying his solitude, and Lucas kept himself around to help repair any damages done to certain persons when tempers flared.

Since they had entered the city there had been no sign of the smallest member of the group, not until the day before the event did Hexol return to them, though as often was the case, the circumstances surrounding his return were most certainly odd.

 

Hexol walked into the inn wearing the finest of clothing and looking cleaner than anyone had seen him in a long time. Spotting Rhaine in her seat, he moved over to her with the urgency of a child that was in a large amount of trouble. "Rhaaiine!!! I have a problem!" He cried when he drew near. "How do I get a cult that believes that I'm the personification of their holy deity to stop worshiping the ground I walk on?"

 

As Lucas was sitting nearby he nearly broke his neck as his head swung around to face the Kender. "How do you what?!?" He asked, his confusion plain on his face.

Hexol's answer was a large roll of his eyes before pointing to the window, what Lucas saw was even more confusing, A number of people were pressing themselves up against the glass windows, all muttering and gazing at Hexol with looks of utter amazement. An older man of the group stepped back and yelled out in a loud and commanding voice. "His immanence speaks to she of the black wings! She shall lift up his word to the gods and his will shall be done! Glory be to his messenger!"

 

To all of this Hexol simply responded with a unimpressed sigh. "It's... it's been a weird week."

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall observed Rameses's reaction with a furrowed brow of concern, suspecting there was much more to this situation than the genasi was letting on. Perhaps he would open up a little elsewhere, where they weren't surrounded by so many strangers...

 

"Let's get somewhere and talk privately, shall we?"

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Meanwhile, back at the Cheerful Sage, Rhaine watched with utter bewilderment as Hexol approached with an overzealous crowd in tow. After a few moments of incredibly awkward silence following the elder man's proclamation - and a flurry of thoughts all amounting to suspicions that this could not be a good thing - she ran through possible options before leaning towards Hexol and whispering in his ear, her hand cupped to her mouth.

 

"You could try telling them that following you displeases you and that they risk your terrible wrath should they not cease their blathering."

[GrueMaster]

"Ramesesama?" Kaji called out in concern at the fire genasi's expression. He scanned the crowd around them in a vain attempt to spot anyone spying on them. "I don't see anyone... do you, Hi-chan?"

 

"No..." She stated flatly. "Nearly everyone around us is taller than me, so I cannot see past these people."

 

We'tak glanced around as well, his attention being drawn away from the moon-blessed metal weapons and focused on his clutchmate's distress. The thri-kreen began softly warbling a keening sound at the mention of Eirene. He had thought it had been a bad idea for her to leave, but he hadn't said so; eventually, every hunter must be alone. The possibility of her being in danger had him thinking otherwise, now. "Should we go search for Eirene?" We'tak chittered quietly, despite not knowing how to begin such a task; there were so many softskins here.

 

At Conall's mention of finding a more private place to discuss things further, Kaji nodded. "Okay... I have something in mind... be ready to run, friends..." Attempting to hide the casting of his spell, the wu jen murmured an incantation.

 

Suddenly, a thick bank of fog descended upon the crowd, which soon fell into disarray as the crowd began to panic. Amidst the yelling and bustling, Kaji cast another spell, this one changing the outward appearances of himself and his compatriots. "Okay," he said, once certain the illusion had taken effect. "Let's get moving now!" Leading the way out of the fog, the group emerged.

 

Kaji now had the appearance of a monastery monk, wearing gray and white ascetic robes with a stoic expression about him, and Hi-chan looking like a young halfling girl following at the hem of his robes. He disliked those stuffy, bald stiffs, but right now, these disguises were the best he could come up with on the fly.

 

We'tak gave a shriek of surprise as he looked down at himself. The blue dress he had been wearing had turned into a pink kimono, and the thri-kreen currently looked like a geisha of Kaji's homeland. By the spirits?! I'm a... softskin female?!

 

Conall now appeared to be a proud samurai warrior, resplendent in black and silver great armor. Rameses, however, looked completely out of place, having been given the guise of what was quite possibly the ugliest half-orc women to walk the land, complete with barbarian furs that left little to the imagination. Kaji, however, gave no attention, instead focusing on leaving the area as soon as possible and leading the way from the scene.

 

"Well, I hope we can find someplace swiftly before the spell ends..." The wu jen muttered. "Those people are not going to be pleased once it is over..."

[josh900]

"Tried that, that's why they're outside and not crowding around me." Hexol explained. "I mean.. it used to be fun when they were offering me food... and the women themselves, and paying for my stuff but... now they won't leave me alone and I'm flashing back to my ex and while I left home." He grumbled.

"Maybe I'll ride out to the middle of nowhere, tell them I want them to build me a shrine there and then leave them." He pondered as he stroked his chin.

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall looked down at himself and felt his mouth drop open a bit. Now this was clever. He did not have time to compliment the mage, however, and instead followed Kaji with swift steps, "Come on, Rameses, let's get out of here."

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

Rhaine glanced at the window and then back at Hexol, "But...what if they follow you? What will you do then?"

 

"Run into the ocean?" Maydiira supplied, sitting down beside the Doomguide.