In the warmth of the
Pony we meet, and exchange
thoughts of the mission

We, through evening rain
make haste. To the borders of
Safety and beyond

Creatures of shadow
strike from darkness; I fall as
lost cherryblossom

A man without honor
Stands on our path pointing
true ways for price

Drow strike below
Skumble is captive; goblins
scatter in panic

Portal shimmers
With eerie light the others
Vanish; into where?

The Draxian jungle
is vast, strange, lonely with
wilderness and wolves

Following signs
left by Weasel we thread through
danger; time our foe

Samael rages at
entropy as his patterns
crumble to nothing

Our camp is held from
us; huge figures hissing scorn:
Sa'ar mind-blasted slaves.

Kaarth mages with power
To control the intellect
In battle I fall

Recover surrounded
by sound of reptilian
triumph; Kaarth are dead

...

Awaken at dawn
in the still light, we plan our
mission of rescue

Walking in jungle
a sudden chance encounter
with native peoples

They speak in language
strange; of lizards huge with
claws and great big teeth

The people we meet
use fire crackers in war:
things called baboombas

Al Qadi Ris asks
and studies, learning of their
suicidal art

I too would know more,
though watching the artisan
closely would hurt lots

We leave with promise
of friendship and mutual aid
we return to hunt

Our foe, Kaarth and Sa'ar
hold a camp, fortified with
magic, fence and ditch

The fight is fierce
Kaarth spit poison which splatters
harmlessly on maile

Returning to the
tribe, we try again to speak
Hunter talks to snake

Wandering jungle
to fulfil obligation
We speak with thirst-Sprites

word puzzles they ask
searching for nimble thinkers
granting unearned power

in clearing we meet
followers of Amen, god
of unthinking love

Denizens of second
village were once warriors
following their path

Missionaries of
Amen have preached virtue
of selfless giving:

The obscene mindless
sacrifice of unthinking
slaves. Despair grips me.

There priests joined
us to take Amen's word
to the great Dracon.

Priests of Amen hug
the Dracan; desire to
convert all things

Priests die. In pain.
The drackon are mighty but
soon fall beneath steel

soul cultists tell
of returning with the lost
soul sword in hand

upon the morrow
they will perform the ritual;
spending their own lives

to summon and bind
within mortal flesh, N'dark,
the soul-cult's patron

Dawn attack. Sa'ar howl
The gates fall. In chill dawn
We dance the blades

Dodgy Chris sidles
into the camp loaded with
gaudy magic tat.

His thefts noted,
we drive him from the camp
but can not hurt him

Guarding ritual when
mages appear mighty with
elemental power

Summoning N'dark
has failed, the body is claimed
by a minor imp

Decision: retry
the ritual in a safe place,
The native village

High Master Vortex
falls, before we reach shelter
struck down yet again

he wears death lightly,
and his body stands once more
a new soul driving

warded by fields of
babboombas, Hunter and Snake
hiss conversation

The shaman dances
life into Vortex, and more
gifts us LandReaver

power beyond use
a weapon made useless through
lack of precision

Terror given hard
Metallic form, assuring
mutual destruction

dark ones, threatened
by the soul-ritual must close
on us time presses

Outside the Kaarth camp
where Dryak was held captive,
We find enemies

Mages as before,
we are already weary;
they, still more mighty

This evil fortune
is not enough to check our
painful victory