Chapter Two - The Dread Archmage

    Precis - The party has rescued the duke, and needs to hot-foot it out of Dodge.  They flee south, and take shelter in an abandoned fortress from eons ago, meeting up with Leon's contact.  A skirmish ensues in the fortress when Baron Widlow's scout party finds the group.

    Leon passed his eye over the assemblage appraisingly.  Kendall was, of course, his trusted companion.  Otherwise, there was a half-elven boy, a man with little clothing, a shadow barely visible against the night, and the an unconscious duke.  Leon made a silent appeal heavenward.
    "I would know who I travel with," Leon said.
    Lito turned in his saddle to face Leon squarely.  "I am Lito Crestwind, and my companion here is Barbados Barbossa.  Thank you for my rescue, and for that of my father."  Leon nodded and smiled.
    "Vent Cappuccino," the spook's voice made his words sound as though balanced on a poignard's tip.
    "Well met then, friends.  We have to make haste south.  I have a contact at the fortress of Ynefel, and we can take shelter there, at least long enough to mend the duke's wounds and plan our next action," Leon announced.
    Lito cleared his throat.  "We don't have a lot of options, then.  We can head east, towards the woods, and thread them towards the mountain, or we can take the road south and break off from it when it nears the mountain."
    "Or we can head west and follow the river south," Leon replied.
    "I would prefer the main road.  We will pass through Godwin's Crossing if we head along the road, and we can pause to get aid for my father there," Lito said.
    Barbados spoke quietly, "I stand with my lord."
    "Kendall, what say you?" Leon asked.
    Kendall considered for a moment.  "The river seems the most logical choice.  It's fast and direct, and avoids the town."
    Lito blinked.  "Why do we want to avoid the town exactly?"
    Kendall curled her lips into a tight smile.  "The baron's men will be in the town, and others will be following us.  If we go to the town, we will likely be caught."  Lito blushed slightly and turned his head to check Barbados's reaction.  Barbados nodded solemnly.
    Leon nodded as well.  "Indeed, that is most likely.  Either way, we must be fast, and we've wasted too much time as is - what route do we take?"
    "The river!"

    Lito looked back for the fourth time.
    "What is it?" Vent asked.
    Lito kept his gaze northward for a moment, and then turned his head to Vent.  "I keep thinking I see something in the distance.  Mounted men."
    Vent nodded.  "Let Leon know."
    Lito called ahead.  "Leon!  I think those men you said would follow us are a bit behind us!  They may be catching up!"
    Leon slackened the reins a bit.  "We should cut across to the forest, then.  Everyone, wheel about and head east to the woods!" Leon shouted back to his comrades.
    It began to rain.

    The forest was dark, and the pounding of the rain slapped through the leaves and branches.  The hooves of the horses were drowned out by the rain, but the pace was slower.
    Kendall pulled up alongside Leon.  "This can't be good for the duke.  I barely had time to bandage his wounds."
    Leon shook his head.  "We'll have to manage.  The duke's life is forfeit if we stop."
    Kendall looked back to Lito quietly.  He seemed cold and dry.  "He is worried."
    Again Leon shook his head.  "I cannot help there either.  This is hard, but he may face harder yet."  Leon looked back at Lito; his face was drawn.  "What a way to inherit."
    Kendall eased back on the reins and let her horse drop back into the group.

    It was a beacon that lit the sky through the deluge.  As they drew nearer, the flashing became more frequent.  The keep of the old fortress was outlined morosely in the night by each flash, its crumbling walls looming against the dark.  Leon drew his horse to a halt and regarded the flashes momentarily.
    "Kendall, what do you think?"
    Kendall peered at the flash.  "It is not of my ken.  It doesn't feel the same."  Leon regarded her for a moment.
    "Whatever it is, this is our destination.  Come."  Leon led his horse into a canter once more, and threaded his way through the crumbling walls of Ynefel, the rest trailing behind him in column.  They passed the outer wall with ease, as large gaps had crumbled out of the wall.  The middle wall, also, had notable damage, and they easily passed through.  The inner wall had only one gap, but it was enough for them to get through while mounted.
    "What a dreary place this is by night," Kendall commented.  Leon gave a soft chuckle.
    The gaping hole in the inner defense of Ynefel looked as though the earth itself had shrugged the wall aside.  The remnants of the wall's granite covered the ground as scree, slowing Leon's steed Cyrril to a more methodical pace.  Leon patted the horse's neck reassuringly as another flash broke from the balcony of the keep.  Leon could feel the rush of air like an impact from the source of the flashes.  "Lito, Barbados, we need someone to stay here and keep an eye out for any who tail us.  Would you do this?"
    Lito swung his leg down off of his mount.  "Yes."  Barbados dismounted as well, and strode to Lito's side.
    Leon nodded as he pressed his knees to his mount's side.  "I thank you.  We'll let you know what we find out soon.  Kendall, Vent, with me.  We must see what these flashes mean."
    Kendall and Vent followed Leon into the keep.  The first floor's main hall was spacious, some sixty feet in length to a grand staircase.  The hall was flanked by six doors, three to a side.  The disrepair of the old keep was evident, and many of the doors were rotting, with rusted hinges and dangerous tilts.  The structure held admirably for age and disuse, however, as the floors and ceiling were sturdy enough.  The majority of the rubble was human in nature; discarded tools and goods, ancient weapons, cutlery, furniture and tapestries collapsing with age, the barest remnants of age-old rushes on the floor, and the decorations of a forgotten lord littered the hall.  The stairway was sturdy looking, though a portion of it had scree from some upper floor's supports cluttering a side of it.
    Leon pressed his mount ahead in the hallway towards the staircase, trusting his mount's sure-footedness on the broad stairway.  Kendall and Vent both dismounted and rushed to hurry after, even as Leon's horse ascended to the second floor several steps at a time.
    At the top of the staircase, Leon reined his mount about and shielded his eyes momentarily as a great flash strobed across his sight.  Cyrril whickered irritably at the flash.
    As Leon's vision refocused, he saw the dying of the flash concentrated as a physical force.  Two hunting dogs, collars loose, fell to the floor dully from the force, clearly pushed back by the force.  A pace back, three men in Widlow livery stood, swords drawn, gaping in dismay.  At the center of the force stood a man of some forty years, robed in the raiment of a merchant with a staff in hand, and a young girl of perhaps ten years.  The girl stood with her arms stretched upward.
    Leon gasped in recognition.  "Thaddeus!" he called in surprise.  The aged man turned his gaze in recognition.
    "Leon!  Jolly good timing, lad.  Sara can't manage this much longer," he called back.
    The guardsmen rearmost of the soldiers turned to face Leon.  He bore the carriage of an officer.  "Keep at them, men.  I'll handle this one."  The soldiers responded with grunts.
    Leon urged his mount a few paces forward and turned to face the guardsmen.  "Surrender!  We have no time for useless bloodshed!"  The soldier did not respond, but fell into a readied stance, sword poised.  Leon lowered his visor, raised his lance, and pressed Cyrril into an arcing canter.  Taking a small leap over a discarded stone bench, Cyrril skirted the soldier perfectly, and Leon's lance smashed against the guard's shield.  Wheeling his horse about once more, Leon readied himself for another charge.  "Yield!"
    The soldier was no amateur, that much was certain.  As Leon's horse lept, the soldier stepped back two paces in retreat.  Had Cyrril's arc been sloppier, the guard may have been able to dodge the lance entirely.  As Leon and Cyrril turned once more, the soldier rushed forward and chopped at Leon's lance.  The steel met, and the soldier drew his blade back to a defensive stance, noting the heavy gash he had bitten into the lance.
    Kendall and Vent gained the head of the staircase as Leon struck at the soldier again.  Vent raised his crossbow and fired fluidly, without bothering to check his aim.  The bolt thudded into the soldier's side as he shrugged off Leon's blow with his shield.  Grunting in pain, the soldier staggered back, and Leon pressed the assault again.  The guard was ready, though, and hacked again at Leon's lance, cleaving it in twain.  Leon cursed and drew his sword.
    "It is gone!" cried the guardsmen in triumph, rushing forward towards Thaddeus and Sara.
    Thaddeus raised his hand to the first guard's face and a brilliant light burst in his palm.  Crying out in pain, the guard stumbled and tripped, falling to his side.  Thaddeus caught the other square in the chest with the tip of his staff, pushing the guard back in surprise.  "Away!"
    Leon struck downward heatedly, his ire raised.  The officer's shield was no match this time, and Leon cleaved through it, his sword biting into the officer's arm.  "Surrender, or I will cut you down!" Leon cried as he drew back his sword.
    The officer back away momentarily and looked about.  Vent and Kendall stood at the head of the staircase down, crossbows ready.  Thaddeus stood over a moaning soldier who clutched at his face, quarterstaff interposed like a barrier in one hand.  The guard still standing was winded and frightened, his sword arm shaking.  The officer released a shuddering breath and threw his sword down.  "I yield.  Spare us our lives."
    Leon urged Cyrril to approach slowly, holding his blade at the ready.  "I would know your name, soldier."
    The officer gazed up at Leon.  "Jon Miller, of Baron Widlow's men."
    "Leon Acton of the church of Heironeous," Leon responded.  "I do not intend to harm you, but we may have others coming to find us, so I must imprison you and your men for the time being.  I will place you and your men in one of these castle rooms with some bandages for your wounds, but I can spare nothing more you right now."
    Miller shrugged.  "Then we shall wait."
    Leon eyed the soldier momentarily.  "You seem well at ease for a man captured."
    Miller shrugged again, and gave a sheepish grin.  "I've learned to be patient with captors, sir.  It seems to be healthier than the alternative."
    Leon smiled wanly, but wasted no time in herding the men into the nearest closed room.  The door was barricaded.
    "My apologies I could not get here sooner, Thaddeus.  We were well preoccupied by a siege and our goal, but we have brought duke Crestwind with us.  He lives, but he was gravely injured in our flight, and I am not sure if he will live through the night," Leon said as he turned to Thaddeus.
    "Sara can manage the duke's health, I think.  She possesses talent in excess of her years.  You have done well in stealing the duke from beneath Widlow's nose, Leon," Thaddeus replied as the began descending the stairs to the first floor.  "I see the Circle did well to trust this matter to you.  Are you pursued?"
    Lito answered from the top of the staircase.  "We are.  Some twenty men on horseback have come to the fortress, and our now leading their mounts through the broken walls."
    Leon bared his teeth in frustration.  "We cannot stand against that many!"
    "There is a network of catacombs beneath the fortress, friends.  We can take refuge there," Thaddeus replied.  "Sara, if you would be so kind as to lead us?"
    Sara nodded.  "It's this way, down on the first floor."

    The small shrine Sara kept was cluttered and cramped.  The room was perhaps twenty square feet, but packed to the brim with bookcases overflowing with tomes, symbols and idols of Pelor, a table covered in bottles and jars of varying herbs and tinctures, a cot with a rumpled blanket, a mannequin with diagrams about it marking the vital parts of the human body and places to apply treatments, a case of gardening tools worn with age, and backed against the southern wall a humble shrine to the sun god Pelor.  The shrine was meticulously painted and carved, clearly by hand, though the work was inconsistent as though several people of varying skill contributed to the effort.  The five faces of Pelor shone brightly in reds, oranges, and yellows across the arch framing the shrine.  Candlesticks covered in wax droplets adorned the jutting granite platform of the shrine, and a small offering bowl surrounded by miniature carvings of Pelor's saints held the center position of the shrine.
    Lito studied the shrine intently.  "Amazing..." he breathed.  Turning away from the shrine, he approached Sara and looked at the efforts of the young girl on his father's wounds.  "How is he, Sara?"
    Sara looked up bleakly and shook her head.  "He's been hurt pretty badly.  I can't be certain he'll live.  Pelor's power seems to do little to help him, save ease his pain."
    Lito's shoulders drooped slightly.  "You must do everything you can.  I don't know what to do without him!"
    Leon waved an agitated gesture at Lito, listening at the door.  "Barbados left minutes ago, he should have managed his way back by now," he muttered.
    Thaddeus shrugged and tapped the stone floor lightly with his staff.  "Oh, I'm sure the pantless fellow will be fine.  He seems hale enough, though cautionless."
    Kendall smothered a chuckle behind the sleeve of her robe.  "Perhaps witless might be better," she replied.
    "What you call witless I call brave, lady," Barbados replied as he unlatched the door and stepped inside.
    "What did you see?" Leon demanded.
    Barbados closed the door behind him quietly.  "Near thirty men.  They split up into pairs and search the castle, though several pairs guard the exits.  They're near to completing their search of the second floor, and soon will go through the first carefully."
    Leon frowned.  "The horses will make it clear we're still here, so it's only a matter of time before they find us down here.  This could get ugly."
    Lito crossed his arms.  "So what do we do, then?"
    Thaddeus tapped his staff on the floor again.  "There may be an alternative."
    "Oh?  What's that, Thaddeus?" Leon asked, turning his head to regard the mage.  Thaddeus didn't immediately respond, but instead hummed quietly to himself as he searched through the pile of junk by the cot.  "We've precious little time, Thaddeus."
    Finding a leather case, Thaddeus undid the loop holding it shut and flipped up the top flap, revealing a collection of half-filled bottles.  The liquid inside was murky, and swished about like water.  "Alchemists' Fire!" Kendall announced.
    Leon stared at Thaddeus for a moment.  "Surely that won't be enough to stop thirty men!"
    Thaddeus clucked his tongue momentarily.  "But we don't need to stop all thirty, really.  I would guess that some ten or fifteen men will come to search the catacombs.  If we can deal them significant damage and sow enough confusion, we may be able to convince them to flee, and I imagine the cascades of morale will help us out from there."
    "I see!" Lito exclaimed.  "An ambush at the right spot, and we might scare them away!"
    Leon nodded and considered Thaddeus a moment.  "A good idea.  Perhaps we can make this a bit better, then.  Thaddeus, you're a wizard, aren't you?"
    Thaddeus nodded.  "After a fashion, yes, but I would hardly call my modest talents true wizardry."
    Leon smiled.  "Well then, my friend, I think it's time we let them know just what sort of archmage they're dealing with!"

    The flicker of the soldier's torch cast shadows down the long catacomb hall.  Rubble and dust covered the floor, and cobwebs took up every few feet of corner.  The armsman turned a corner, holding his torch forward and stepping carefully.  Abruptly he stopped, causing the men behind him to bunch up.
    "Go and fetch the other patrols - I think we've found our pigeons," the soldier said to his nearest subordinate.  The guardsman saluted and hurried away.  The armsman raised his torch high and smiled at the figure down the hall.  "It's good you've come out openly.  I'm sure sir Kripwell wouldn't want you hurt."  The figure raised its left arm.  "Are you going to surrender then, or will we have to bring you back broken?"
    A deep voice boomed across the hall, and the torch flame snuffed out suddenly.  "I am the archmage of Ynefel, the mighty Tripshaw!  Your footsteps assault my walls, swordlings.  Put up your weapons, lest I roast you as I would ducks!"  The unsteady unsheathing of a half-dozen blades rattled through the hall.  The action was hesitant.  "Come and be unmanned, swordlings!" Thaddeus's voice declared hotly.
    The officer turned his head and unclenched his jaw.  "Extra rations to the man who brings me this ass's head!" he declared, starting down the hallway.
    The figure remained motionless in the gloom, the flicker of the torches of the men playing shadows across his chin.  After a few moments, the soldiers had covered half the hallway.  "Caminim in verro parte!" cried Thaddeus, circling his hands about each other and then thrusting them upwards.  At the words, the soldiers tensed, but after a few seconds, they relaxed.
    "Let's end this, jester," the officer chuckled, stepping forward.  A sudden sound of shattering glass caused the men to jump, but again a moment passed, and the officer stepped forward.  He raised his sword to charge the figure, and then he lit aflame.  Stumbling back, releasing a pitched wail of agony, the officer retreated into the ranks of his men, flailing his limbs madly.
    "Flee, swordlings!" the figure roared as the hall was consumed in an inferno.  "Flee, before I shower true power!  Flee!"  Two flaming arrows shot past the figure, now towering at the end of the hall as the inferno sent his shadow tirading about the catacomb.  The arrows found marks, felling two men, whose bodies collapsed among the flames.  "My rage grows stronger each moment you defile my halls!  Flee!"
    The soldiers tripped over each other and their weapons, stumbling away from the flames in fright and confusion.  As more flaming arrows shot along the hallway after them, the men retreated, sweeping the reinforcements with them.  Quickly a scream of terror erupted from some of the men, and the cackle of a wild archmage echoed down the halls after them.

    Lito stepped over the still smoking bodies and covered his mouth and nose.  "That worked well.  I count six in all.  Not thirty, but still a pretty good account for ourselves."
    Thaddeus tapped his staff on the floor rhythmically.  "Hopefully we've bought ourselves enough time to situate ourselves, but now the baron's forces know precisely where we are."
    "We should have enough time, Thaddeus.  I'll see about finding some help at the nearest town on the morrow," Leon replied, pulling the greaves off of his legs.  "We'll need more than a few dozen men and a dread archmage to stop an army, though.  We should run, if we can."
    Sarah gasped.  "We can't move him like this!  You would kill him for sure.  His wounds won't heal, and travel would surely open them fresh.  Please, we must stay here."
    Lito nodded.  "If father cannot move, then I cannot.  We must stand here until father recovers enough to travel."
    Kendall gave a low whistle.  "The limbs of a tree can only protect you for so long, young one.  We will need more than these walls to protect your father.  The risk of travel may be necessary."
    Sarah shook her head sharply.  "It can't be done.  He almost died just reaching this place, and his wounds look to be festering.  I do not know what was done to him, but the disease was a part of the wound from the moment of its infliction.  We cannot move him now, lest he die."
    Thaddeus tapped his staff again.  "Come, all of you, let's go upstairs.  If we are to argue, I'd prefer to do it sitting down, and far from burnt bodies."
    "Agreed, let's go," Leon said.  They trudged up the stairs.
    "Surely we can recruit some men nearby.  There are several villages, and a town on the Gualen river, all within half a day's ride.  Maybe we can get enough men to hold this old fortress," Lito offered as they walked.
    Leon grimaced.  "It's not that simple.  This fortress is old and worn.  The walls are breached, the keep is collapsing, and we have little coin to pay any men we would hire.  If we stand here, we are likely to die here, without some kind of help."
    Kendall nodded.  "It would be impossible to withstand an army here.  However, there is some possibility all the same."
    Leon turned his head.  "What do you mean?"
    "The fortress was built here for a reason.  The walls are well placed, the forest is dense, and we have the advantage of height.  Any opponent that would siege this fortress would have a hard time indeed.  And, what's more, we likely have more time than you think.  An army takes much time to move, especially one that has just siezed a city." Kendall smiled as she spoke.
    They reached the great hall of the second floor, and sat at the table on the dais.  The benches remained, stone.  Thaddeus sat resting his staff across his knees.  "It's hard to tell, but we likely have at least a few days to manage matters.  Depending upon that Kripwell commander's intentions, we may have more.  If he chooses to come at us in force, though, we likely have a few weeks, and if we are lucky, he will seek orders from the baron, which will delay things even further," Thaddeus announced from the head of the table.
    Lito nodded enthusiastically.  "Surely we will have a week.  And a week may be enough to rally the local men to our cause.  The least we can do is try."
    Kendall nodded as well.  "It is worth an attempt, if nothing else.  And if we can't hold this castle, flight remains an option, especially if the duke recovers some from his wounds in the interim."
    Leon gazed at his companions.  "I will protect the duke, with my life if need be.  We'll get a force organized."
    Vent cleared his throat.  "Regardless of what we do, someone should be keeping an eye out for their forces."
    "Indeed.  I take it you will handle that, then?" Thaddeus asked.
    Vent's nod was a curt action, like the fall of an axe.  "I will handle it."