Umber

Borch tells Geoffrey of the escape from the Dreaming Stone.

“Dryden was sawing at Hadrack’s bonds with an arrow?”

Sir Geoffrey and Sir Borch were sitting in Geoffrey’s study, the remains of a late supper between them. Although as always Borch had a long list of places to be, he stopped briefly in Montinelle to tell Geoffrey the news regarding Crater Ridge. “It was an arrow designed to negate the advantages of incorporeality,” Borch said. “In truth it was as effective as the sword with which Vayel was attempting to free Svengali, but both were as effective as they needed to be.”

“What about Glom Gargull? And Brin?”

“No one in that place required assistance less than Master Gargull,” Borch replied. “As for the Jasian, Heironeous’ blessing conferred upon Starfire the ability to penetrate matter more easily, and I suggested to Ammitai that he do what needed to be done.”

“But I thought you said Brin was attached to the thread by her hand – wait, do you mean you told Ammitai to take off her arm?”

The younger paladin’s face flushed almost imperceptibly. “I didn’t say it. I was hoping it wouldn’t need to be said. Fortunately she convinced him of its necessity herself.”

“If you knew what needed to be done,” Geoffrey scolded, “why didn’t you do it yourself and spare the lad?”

“I had earned neither the right nor the privilege to commit such an act,” Borch replied stiffly.

Geoffrey sighed to himself and thought not for the first time that if Borch were the exemplar of the ideal Heironian paladin, he himself would make a poor one. “So the child lost her hand again?”

“She was remarkably composed about it, although it was clearly a shock to her physical system. As we were trying to escape that vile place she might have died in her weakened condition if – ” he broke off abruptly.

Geoffrey waited for him to finish the sentence, and when he didn’t could guess at the remainder himself. He began to chuckle, then to laugh aloud, and Borch shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You,” Geoffrey said, pointing a triumphant finger at the other paladin, “healed her, didn’t you? Fall in glory, indeed.”

“The battle was over,” Borch replied irritably. “There was no strategic advantage to letting her die.”

“Don’t give me this ‘strategic advantage’ nonsense,” Geoffrey scoffed. “She rode with you in battle, and trusted you to take care of her, and you felt obliged to repay that trust.” He laughed again. “I knew, under there somewhere, you were as human as the rest of us.”

“That wasn’t it at all,” Borch muttered, but Geoffrey would have none of his attempts at an explanation.

“How did you escape?” Geoffrey asked when he had mastered his amusement. “Shifting planes? Teleportation?”

“If I understood correctly, neither was likely to function, and in any case neither Brin nor Dinadel devoted resources to departing. It was the archmage Tenser who mustered the resources to remove us from the heart of the volcano.”

“Tenser? How did he know – well, I suppose the apocalyptic weather conditions might have led him to believe that the Tharizdunians were up to something.”

“That and the peculiar behavior of the remaining Alpha-sworn,” Borch said.

“What were they doing? And how did Tenser know about that?”

“The archmage described it as ‘speaking in tongues.’ And apparently he knew because he has been observing them for some time now.”

Geoffrey looked displeased. “Spying on them, you mean.”

Borch sipped at his coffee, looking like he would prefer not to be having this conversation. “I believe that was the word Brin used, yes. She was – irritated with him.”

“I can imagine. I would be, in her place.”

“And yet…” the Heironian paladin shrugged. “After what happened within the Dreaming Stone, I found his argument that these Alphas have a poorly understood, potentially dangerous untapped power not entirely unpersuasive. The dark god found a way to make use of it.”

“But failed, in the end,” Geoffrey reminded him. “In any case, how did Tenser extricate you from that place?”

“From the scope of the power mustered, I would say that several archmages were involved. By the time he attempted to communicate with us, the spike had driven itself so far toward the very heart of Oerth that he was difficult to understand, and seemed to have similar difficulty understanding us. We were to leave the Dreaming Stone and wait within the Black Spike proper for hopefully no more than a few minutes, for there were preparations to be made.”

“That could have been no easy vigil, encased in lava as you were.”

“A vigil made more difficult,” Borch replied, “by the arrival of the Triad.”

“Tharizdun’s most powerful servants,” Geoffrey mused. “Would they have had the ability to reverse the failed attempt to return their master to Oerth?”

“I have no way of knowing. Certainly they behaved as individuals merely hell-bent on revenge. What should have been a formidable challenge proved almost trivial, however. Dryden dispatched one with a slaying arrow, Vayel employed her newly-won attunement to Fire to incinerate another – an irony, that, as it was their own summoning of Imix that granted her the power to do so.”

“And the third?”

“That one could have proven a challenge – an alien creature who can cause the unwary who engage him at close quarters to suffocate in the very air that should sustain their lives. But Ammitai, mindful of the fact that many of his friends were injured and our larger situation precarious, called upon the talisman of good to send him without quarter to the oblivion he deserved. After that we had nothing to do but wait.”

“If you couldn’t teleport, how did they get you out of the magma?”

“I’m no mage,” Borch said. “But someone – Corwin and Brin appeared to believe he had disguised himself – burrowed from the surface to our location encased in a protective sphere. He instructed Dinadel to seal the hole behind him with a plug of arcane force, produced another sphere large enough to contain us all, and so we retreated.”

Geoffrey, who had spent a number of years in Tenser’s service, looked thoughtful. “That’s quite the sphere, to hold the eight members of your party, four rescued prisoners, Hadrack, Glom, Svengali, the mage himself – and a horse.”

“Dinadel used a staff to reduce everyone’s size.”

“Even so…” It was a puzzle that didn’t seem to exercise Borch, so he said, “But clearly everyone made it out safely.”

“And where the Crater Ridge temple once stood there is nothing but an angry volcano. I gather a large portion of the old temple near Hommlet has collapsed as well.” Geoffrey nodded. “Then we may hope that the Tharizdunian threat may not surface – I’m not foolish enough to think never – but at least not in our lifetime, or even our grandchildren’s.”

“Perhaps,” Geoffrey said doubtfully.

“Do you know something that would lead you to think otherwise?”

“I’m relieved to hear that the Triad has been destroyed. But in truth I’d hoped to hear that you’d had an additional visitor as well. Have you heard of Lareth the Beautiful?” Borch had not, and Geoffrey briefly outlined his original tie to the Temple, his interactions with Hadrack in his role as high priest, and the party’s own dealings with him.

“The anointed Champion of Tharizdun,” Borch frowned. “And you say his whereabouts are unaccounted for?”

“Yes. And we must assume that he has with him the artifact known as the Orb of Oblivion. The Orb of Silvery Death now lies at the heart of a volcano, but as we know, nothing is utterly irretrievable to a sufficiently determined individual. I expect the loss of the Doomdreamers and the Triad is a grievous blow, but the blow was not as complete as it might have been.”

Borch rose. “We would be fools, I suspect, to think that we could ever utterly defeat the machinations of an elder god. The best we can hope for is to keep it at bay.”

Geoffrey stood with him. “I’d offer you a room for the night, but I expect baronial accommodations aren’t quite your style.”

Borch smiled faintly. “No. I felt you deserved to know what transpired, but now – I should be on my way.”

The two men walked together to the stables, where Cloud waited outside. “Give the girl a break from mines for a while,” Geoffrey laughed as Borch mounted.

“We serve as we must, both of us,” Borch replied soberly.

“Yes,” Geoffrey murmured as he rode away. “Yes, I’m certain you do.”