The alley where Blaise Pascal stood was no more than fifteen feet long, open to only one end of a little-used street. The buildings on both sides of the alley were three stories tall, and the stone wall preventing passage to the other end of town was just as tall. No windows opened into the alley. The walls were sheer, not climbable.
Needless to say, it was the perfect place for a trap. Had Blaise been paying attention and not walked into the trap, he would not be worried for his life right now.
At the open end of the alley, just ten feet in front of him, stood a member of the Dizantar, a race of armored warriors who live to kill the Arcane.
Blaise stood there, a blank expression on his face, trying to think of something to do. Fear gripped his soul: he heard tales of what the Dizantar would do to Arcane before killing them. He silently prayed to whatever gods would listen that they were wrong.
The Dizantar just stood there, holding a ten-foot long halberd in one hand and a small globe in another. The globe just seemed to be cloudy crystal, as far as Blaise could tell. The Dizantar lobbed it in Blaise's direction, like a child tossing a puppy a ball for it to catch.
Blaise snapped out of the shock when he realized the ball was tossed to him. Reaching out with a six-fingered hand, he grabbed the sphere, hoping it wouldn't break. It might be poison, gas, or some form of explosive (although he knew it couldn't be smoke powder: for some reason it won't work in Greyspace).
As his fingers wrapped around the globe, it shattered. Shards from the sphere fell to the ground as a strange smoke enveloped him. The Dizantar just looked at him while the smoky white cloud enveloped his form. Seconds later, it disappeared. Blaise stood there wondering what happened.
"A dispel magic grenade," the Dizantar commented. "This way, no tricks. No dimension door. No escape." The armored combatatant then turned his halberd at Blaise and charged.
Back at the headquarters of Narrashan Towing Company, Ville and Phantom relaxed and enjoyed the feast Holinor ordered for them. After one plate was finished, another was presented for them. These were Lizard People unlike any the pair heard of: open, friendly and more than welcome to party.
Holinor sat across from them on the other side of the table. He looked like any other Lizard Man, maybe a little older looking, some of his green skin turning grey in spots, and large bags under his eyes, but nothing else remarkable. He was a shaman; his garments were colorful and bright, and he had what appeared to be chicken feathers on a headband. The leader of the company, Holinor swallowed a small animal whole when anothe Lizard Man, this one much younger and carrying a spear, approached him. Bending, the yound one spoke into Holinor's ear.
"Hhn. Yesss. Hnn." Holinor's expression changed from one more fitting a party to one more serious. He issued some instructions in Lizardspeak, calling over some others.
Phantom raised his head at Holinor's change in expression. He watched the pair closely. Ville noticed Phantom stop eating, and looked first at Holinor, then at Phantom.
"What's wrong?" asked Ville.
"Something's not right," Phantom replied. "It has to do with Blaise."
"I didn't know you could speak Lizardese," Ville commented.
"You could say I can pick up certain things here and there. That one, the younger Lizard man, was the one who was to meet Blaise. He says that there was no sign of any Arcane in that area."
"Damn," Ville said. "Anything else?"
Phantom squinted his eyes. He seemed to strain, although by this time Holinor was screaming in Lizardspeak.
"My friendsss," Holinor said, looking now at the pair, "your Arcane friend hassss not arrived at the location he wasss sssupposssed to be. Ssssomething hasss happened to him. We are beginning to sssscour the cccity, but this will take time."
"He was to meet with someone at a warehouse on the far side of the Halfling sector," Phantom commented. "He told us to come here because he could handle everything himself."
"He is an Arcane, Phantom," Ville argued. "He might have got a better offer for the Vallenwood, took the money and split. I can't understand why Onestar trusts him so much."
"Look, Ville, Onestar trusts him. I've never known that samurai to be wrong."
"There's always a first time," Ville responded.
"Gentlemen," Holinor began, "while I do not wisssh to interrupt thisss dissscussssion, might I sssuggest we look for him? Grellnor issss not a place you want to get lossst in."
"Good idea," Phantom said. "I've never been to this city before."
"I have," Ville commented bitterly.
"...at any rate, can you lend us someone to either act as a guide, or help us if necessary?"
"You do not ssshare your friendsss feelingsss that the Arcane hasss left you?"
"I get the feeling that he's in trouble," Phantom said.
The Dizantar lunged at Blaise, halbeard out, ready to make the kill. Blaise tried to create a dimension door, but to no avail. Not only were his magical spells affected by this grenade, but so were his innate abilities. As he backed aganist the wall, ready to meet his fate, somewhere in the back of his mind he made a note to find one and analyze it.
The halbeard was less than a foot away. Blaise thought he could make a duck and roll, avoid it and run. Suddenly, off in the distance, there was a "fwoom!" sound. Pilanter, the Dizantar attacker, stopped in his tracks and began to shudder violently. From around his back, great blue sparks flew. He shook, first dropping the halberd and then falling himself to his knees. When he hit the ground, a great cloud of dark smoke rose from his back. Within the smoke was a projectile, a silver rod fitted with arrow-like notches to its side and rear.
Although the end of the alley was still obscured from his vision, Pascal could hear a voice speaking very quickly.
"Ineverknewwhether thatwouldeverwork.Whatdid hethink?Justbecausehewore allmetalarmorhecouldn't behurt.It'sallclearPascal youcancomeoutnow!
"Zebart?" Blaise said, stepping over the Dizantar's form, trying to peer throught the smoke.
"Theoneandonly.Isawyouwalkin tothatalleynotaverysmartthing todoifyouaskmebutnoone everdoesandsawthatarmoredguy followyouYoumusthavehadaloton yourmindnottonoticehim ormeforthatmatterbutthen nottoomanypeopleseemeorreallycare..."
Blaise grabbed Zebart, picked him up and gave him a huge hug.
"Really, Mr. Pascal," Zebart stuttered, the air being forced from his lungs, "I really should tell you that I prefer other Gnomes myself. Female ones, for that matter. Not that there'sanythingwrongwith largebluepeoplebutreally you'renotmytype..."
"We'll talk about that later," Blaise said, still holding on to Zebart and making a run for it. "Let's get back to the others for now. And one of these days, you'll have to tell me how you did that little trick."
"TheLightningRodProjectileSingleShot Cannon?Ohthat'ssimpleMr. PascalI'lltellyouhowto makeone..." Zebart's voice faded off into the distance as Blaise ran off toward the docks.
Back in the alley, Pilanter, still smoking and shaking uncontrollably, tried to stand but found his legs wouldn't let him. It was five minutes before two towering creatures found him there. One creature, slightly taller than the other, muttered something in a gutteral voice. The other took out a vial from his belt pouch, unstopped it, and poured its contents over the back of the Dizantar.
The smoke became worse. A scream of intense pain poured from the armored being, as the metal began to dissolve. Less than one minute later, the armored Dizantar had melted, eaten away by acid. The creatures left, taking the halberd with them.
Phantom, Ville and a cloaked Holinor stood outside the Bloodied Parrot Cafe, trying to piece together what happened to Blaise. Phantom voiced concern about Holinor being out in public, but Holinor would hear nothing of it. He merely assured the pair of humans that they were being watched very carefully.
Ville stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting impatiently for Phantom to finish asking the Minotaur shopkeeper the questions. Ville thought it was a waste of time, but agreed to check one more time for Blaise.
The shopkeeper grunted one last snort and returned to his work, leaving Phantom with a no more answers and some Minotaur snot on his shirt.
"That look becomes you," Ville commented. "I take it he was of no help?"
"The minotaur told the truth," Phantom commented, wiping some of the snot from his front, then wiped his hands on his pants. With a disgusted look on his face, he turned back to Ville. "No Arcane has passed withing this street in six days."
"What makesss you ssso ssssure he'ssss telling the truth?" Holinor asked.
"I know," Phantom responded, and began to look up and down the street. Just then, Blaise Pascal ran into view, long legs taking the seven foot plus blue man right past the threesome. Blaise didn't stop for anything; he kept on going.
From within the shop, the minotaur's voice rang out. "There! You want Arcane! There your Arcane!"
Phantom was the first to run after him, with Holinor and Ville bringing up the rear. Already, the giant was getting close to the docks. Phantom suddenly stopped, looked at Blaise, and closed his eyes. Ville nearly knocked Phantom down, the chief of security stopped so quickly.
"What in the seven hells are you doing?" Ville yelled.
Down the street, Blaise stopped. He looked up, then to both sides, then back around straight at Phantom. Phantom opened his eyes and met the arcane's gaze. Blaise ran back to where the trio (now that Holinor caught up with them, wheezing from the strain of running) stood.
"Phantom! Ville! Quick! We've got to get out of here!" Blaise panicked.
"Calm down, Pascal," Ville said. "What's going on here?"
"Don't you see? Can't you understand?" Blaise cried.
"He's in a state of shock," Phantom said, looking into Blaise's eyes. It was then he noticed Zebart in Blaise's arms. "Zebart, what happened?"
"Wellfirsttherewasabigexplosion atthebeginningoftheuniverse andallthespheresformed andwentintothecosmos..."
Ville looked at Zebart. "What happened now, and SLOW DOWN!"
"Yes, sir. Well, I was sent off shopping and I was headed back to the ship (funny how I found everything was closed where Mr. Pascal sent me but that's another story and please don't hit me) when I saw Mr. Pascal enter an alleyway. Another humaniod in a lot of armor entered after him. I could have sworn I heard a voice say I'm dessert and I'm a killer. Well, I could go for a killer dessert right there and then since I hadn't eaten anything since last night and could use a bite. But when I looked in I saw the big armored guy throw something at Mr. Pascal which exploded into a lot of smoke! He then took this BIG pointy thing and charged Mr. Pascal. Well, I couldn't standby let this happen, so I zapped him."
"Zapped him?" Phantom asked.
"Yeah, with this one invention I made. I took a couple Rods of Lightning, attached some arrow parts to them and made them into this bigzapperwhichreallyworks wellaganistpeopleinfullarmor DoyouthinkCaptainOnestarwouldlet meattachoneofthesetotheship?"
Ville somehow managed to reach Zebart and slap him to shut him up.
"The Dizantar! The Dizantar!" Blaise yelled.
"What the hell are The Dizantar?" Phantom asked.
"A racce of creaturesss who live only to ssslaugher Arcane," Holinor replied. "No one knowsss why they ssseek their deathsss. They wear full plate armor, and no one hasss sssseen what they truly look like. They dissssipate when they die into wissspy black sssmoke.
"Blaise!" Phantom yelled. "Pascal! Snap out of it! Snap out of it, man!"
"Phantom!" Blaise said, coming back to his senses. "We've got to get out of here! The Dizantar are after me!"
"You're frightened," Ville said in a low, calm voice. "Whatever else, these creatures have you scared half to death."
Suddenly, from nearby, sounds of an explosion could be heard. Loud thunderous booms rippled from the area of the harbor. A Lizard Man came running over to Holinor and whispered something in Lizardspeak to him.
"Now what the hell is happening!" Ville yelled.
"The hammersssship Eternal Wanderer issss under attack," Holinor said quietly. "Your ssship is being dessstroyed."
Aganist the darkness of Greyspace, a lone shuttle drifted in the void. It didn't move under it's own power; it's speed seemed to be slowing with each passing movement. The shuttle was dark, save for one lone light emminating from a portal on it's starboard side.
There were two men within the cramp quarters of the shuttle. One sat on the floor crosslegged, while the other slept on a bunk aganist the rear wall. The quarters were sparce: other than the bunk, a chest and a single chair bolted to the floor, nothing else was there.
The man sitting on the floor looked over some papers. Next to him was a hooded lantern, it's shutters opened slightly so as to only provide him with light and not his companion. The man wore a dark silk komono, had two swords, one shorter than it's companion, resting to his left, and had writing equipment to his right. His hair, normally pulled back off of his head and tied back, was laying loose over his shoulders. On his lap rested floor plans, while in his hands were a notepad and a quill pen.
He shuffled slightly, so as not to wake the other. The one sleeping was dressed neatly; light flowing pants and shirt. He slept with his back to the samurai, with only a slight blanket covering him. Greyspace was cold, but the craft was warm enough.
Onestar the samurai looked over the plans of the Illithid Dreadnought once more, trying to see if there was some other change or alteration they could make. Hall and he spent the past several weeks pouring over diagram after diagram trying to decide on the changes they would make on the Dreadnought.
They had a couple good ideas, some which might work, and a couple which the scrapped altogether. Among the ones they kept were: removing the squid-shaped Medetation level and replacing it with a detatchable shuttle, removing the spike-like point from the conch, giving it a rounder look.
They discussed altering the very feel from the craft: using something similar to a glasstell spell, and imbedding the new hull with a chamelon-type coloring. The new hull would appear black in wildspace, and develop a multi-colored hue in the flow. This might help them when a more cautious approach would be needed.
Onestar suggested taking the dual rams, and possibly equipping this with a bombard, or perhaps dual hidden jettisons. The Bardic helm they were using currently was still their best bet for the ship, although they would keep the back-up major helm. One of those were always nice to have lying around.
Space was not a problem with the Dreadnought, Onestar considered. There would be room for all the crew, and they might not even need that Hold of Holding he found several years back. No, on second thought. That was too valuable a prize to give up. It's a good thing, Onestar thought, he ordered the maps and scrolls they found on the Dreadnought placed in the hold after leaving the flow.
Hall moaned slightly. Onestar looked over and saw his friend shift positions, rolling over to his back. The samurai then turned his attention toward the papers spread out before him, back to the work he had to accomplish before they entered the lair.
