Chapter 18: Betrayal

Aerick awoke first to the chains. The surroundings confused him at first, but his eyes slowly acclimated to the dim chamber. His wrists were bound above him, and his feet brushed the bone covered floor below. A moan to his left caught his attention, and he saw the similarly dangling form of Toril against the far wall. To his right, Savren lay crumpled in a heap, covered in blood and bound in wire. Of Kieron, there was no sign, giving the ranger pause to whether the young human had evaded capture or was simply not present. He had no information on which to base any of his theories. Toril moaned once as he raised his head.

"Toril... TORIL!"

The sun elf blinked and focused on Aerick.

"Are you alright?"

The young elf blinked again. "As well as can be expected."

"What happened?"

"Indeed." A cold voice mocked from the shadows. "Tell me everything." The shape coalesced into a pale female form clad in a simple black robe. She was bald, with deep sunken eyes that burned with hate. In her features, one could see that luminous beauty that she was, now replaced with darkness and hate. Aerick narrowed his eyes, he had seen her before.

"Cymra Soul Killer," He spat.

"And you... I remember you..." Her face was full of malice. "Aerick Se'trask."

She strode towards the still unconscious sorcerer. Behind his body another form rose, one that growled like a beast. Cymra laughed.

"I have no use for your chew toy dog." She kicked the undead away. With one hand she hauled the young human up and let him dangle. She muttered several guttural words and pale wisps of energy left the young human and balled itself into her open palm. Without a second thought she tossed the human back to the undead and turned to her two remaining captives.

"Now that his power reservoir is removed, I can spend more time having a much delayed conversation with you two."

"Torture us all you want hellspawn, you will get no answers from us." Toril spat.

Aerick groaned and shook his head.

Cymra threw her head back and laughed.

"Brave... and stupid. The perfect heroes to 'thwart my evil plans'." Cymra walked towards the paladin. "Even a pretend paladin."

Toril gritted his teeth as her hands roamed his body.

"Good physical shape," her hands forced his mouth open. "Good teeth... prime slave material. I am surprised they let you go."

She turned to Aerick. "And you... you and I have unfinished business." From the depths of her black robes she withdrew an arrow. "I believe this is yours..."

The glint of silver flashed as she drove the arrow into Aerick's chest. Aerick stared in shock as the ambient magic of the took hold and he...

... slowly...

... faded...

... into...

... dea...

Toril stared in shock at the death of Aerick. He seemed smaller as the life left him, and his killer simply clasped her hands before her breast and sighed contently. Then she turned. There was a pleasant smile upon her face. She opened her robes to reveal two perfect breasts, pale and round, only marred by a small scar above her heart.

"An arrow for an arrow." She jovially spoke. She looked down. "He had the gall to mar my perfection, to try to kill ME!" She coyly looked up at him

"Am I beautiful?"

She loosed her robe fully and let if fall. She was utterly hairless, but bore tattoos on her belly and pussy. Arcane symbols and runes, many of which he could only believe were necromantic. A strange scar decorated her abdomen. She sauntered forward until their bodies touched.

"Abandon your false goddess. She cannot help you here, submit to me, and I will give you power undreamed of. You will have lordship and dominion over any land you desire, and all the bitch pussy you can possibly want." She whispered. Her body was cold to the touch.

Her tongue flicked out and licked the hollow of his throat. The malice and evil were matched with a new state... insanity. She laughed and let him go, and slowly paraded from the room, paused in the shadows to glace over at him, and then disappear into the darkness. Toril's senses told him that there was something else present in the half-elf, something darker than the evil already present in her soul.

Toril took several cleansing breaths to refocus himself, then slowly looked up and over at his now dead companion. He whispered a silent prayer for the soul of the man who had led them this far, and one whom in time he could have considered a friend. He glanced down to look at Savren, who was weakly coming to. He was very pale, with bite marks covering his throat.

"Savren..." Toril whispered.

The young sorcerer lifted his eyes to stare blankly at the paladin. He was deep in the thrall of the vampire, who growled once and dragged him into the shadows. Somehow the human knew vampire. Was she an acquaintance from a before? Was she one of the original team to attempt to destroy the crystal? And where the hell was Kieron? Thoughts of betrayal were present in Toril's mind as he hung there. Time was running out.

Kieron dropped from the ceiling where he had hidden. He had narrowly avoided the vampire, and managed to hide himself psychically until the creature had finished attacking his companions. Orc guards appeared suddenly and dragged his three teammates off, followed by the revenant vampire. He waited several hours deep in the dark recesses of the hall before checking the room where he had sensed the crystal. The room was large and circular, with high arched ceilings. Torches lined the wall in regular intervals, and in the center atop a pedestal, sat a large crystal. He opened his senses to the room, his mind flicked out and quickly scanned for traps. Finding none, he slowly crept forward. The pedestal was a simple stone column, and the crystal simply sat atop it. He passed a hand over it, and found nothing at all. No power rush, no sense of ambient psychic power. It was a simple quartz crystal. Nothing more.

He swore silently and quickly left the room, returning to the secret stairwell. He sat on the rough iron steps and thought. The crystal was definitely present in the Castile, but it was not where he sensed it. The crystal in the room was a fake, a trap that was obviously meant to catch a party like ourselves, he thought. So where was the real crystal? A methodical search was in order, with the only exception being the Lich King's chambers and throne room. While it was a remote possibility that the crystal could be in those areas, it was unlikely due to the fact that Cymra was a paranoid bitch. Such an artifact would be somewhere where she could get her hands on it in a moment's notice.

He froze, the blood drained from his face as his link with one of his party was suddenly and violently severed. Aerick was dead. Kieron did not have a full psychic link with any of the others, but he did attune himself to their life-forces. Savren was in bad shape, but still breathing. Toril was a bit battered, but fine. Of the three, Aerick was the one person he was sure he could count on in the battle ahead. His loss cast the mission in serious jeopardy. He was torn with indecision. He had time to either search for the crystal or to rescue his companions. Finding the crystal took precedence. Once the crystal was destroyed, the Empire, and Hallia, would be safe. He slowly stood and began his search.