Authors: Troy Denning
Myrkul cast a passwall spell at the stone barrier blocking the stairway. A rectangular section of stone separated itself and began hopping down the stairs as though it were alive.
Myrkul watched the stone crush one of his zombies then disappear around the bend in the staircase. His spell’s misfire did not concern the Lord of the Dead. He would soon have plenty of undead to call in Waterdeep.
“Up the stairs!” Myrkul said. “Kill the woman and her friends. They’ve caused me too much trouble already.”
As the zombies shuffled past, Myrkul contemplated his next move. He would return to the Pool of Loss to call the spirits of the dead. After harvesting the energy of their souls, he would go to the Celestial Stairway. With luck, Helm would let him pass, for he now possessed both tablets. Then the Lord of the Dead would destroy Ao. Everything was again proceeding according to plan.
On the flat roof atop Blackstaff’s tower, Kelemvor could not believe Myrkul had escaped so easily. “Where is he?” he roared.
Elminster turned to Midnight. “You can’t trace the tablet anymore?”
Midnight tried to reactivate her locate object magic, but it was gone. “I can redo the incantation, but it’ll take a minute,” she replied.
“We don’t have time. Let’s go,” Kelemvor said, rushing back down the stairs. Midnight and Elminster followed.
Ten steps later, the warrior came face to face with Myrkul’s undead. The lead zombie opened a long gash in the warrior’s shoulder. Kelemvor reacted instantly, backing away and countering with a backhanded slash that removed the corpse’s arm. In the same breath, the fighter kicked the thing, knocking it down the stairs and into the zombie behind it. Both corpses fell.
“Run!” Kelemvor screamed.
Elminster took Midnight’s arm and fled back up the stairs. As they retreated, a third zombie climbed over the pile in the stairway. Kelemvor waited for it then hacked at its neck with two savage slashes. The thing’s head came free with a pop, then dropped to the stairs and rolled away. The body remained standing, flailing its arms.
The two zombies Kelemvor had knocked over regained their feet and pushed past their headless comrade, intent on tearing the warrior to pieces. He backed up the stairs slowly, slashing periodically to stall his attackers.
Outside the trap door leading into the stairwell, Midnight turned to Elminster. “We’ve got to help him,” she cried.
“Kelemvor can take care of himself,” Elminster said. “Let’s use the time he’s buying us. How can we retrieve the tablets?”
Midnight tried to summon some magic that would help, but all she could think of was her lover. Occasionally, the clang of steel on stone or a loud grunt rolled out of the stairway to announce that he still lived. Each time, the sound grew closer, so Midnight knew the sage was right. Kelemvor was buying time and not simply throwing his life away. Still, she could think of nothing but helping him.
Midnight returned to the stairwell.
“Where are you going?” Elminster demanded. “The tablets - think of the Realms!”
“In a minute!” Midnight retorted.
She found Kelemvor staggering up the stairs, covered from head to foot with scratches and small wounds, scarcely beyond the reach of two pursuing zombies. Midnight paused, trying to think of something to halt the corpses.
Kelemvor slipped on a small stone and nearly fell. The rock bounced toward the zombies, and then an incantation came to Midnight. She performed it as quickly as she thought of it, and the stone instantly became a boulder.
It smashed into the first zombie, crushing him. Then it slowed its descent and bounced into the second corpse, knocking it off its feet. The boulder tottered on a stair for a moment, then reversed direction and sluggishly started rolling uphill. It gained momentum steadily, and a moment later the rock was bouncing up the stairs as rapidly as it had started down them.
Midnight pointed at the boulder and screamed, “Look out!”
Kelemvor took two steps, glanced over his shoulder and saw the boulder. He dropped to his belly and it bounced over him. Midnight barely jumped out of the way as the huge rock shot out of the stairwell and arced away into Waterdeep.
The warrior scrambled out of the stairs behind it. He slammed the trap door shut then hopped on top to prevent the zombies from opening it.
“Perhaps now we can attend to the tablets?” Elminster suggested, tapping his foot impatiently.
Midnight glanced at the stairwell. Kelemvor looked secure enough for the moment. “I have something in mind,” she said. “But I don’t know how much good it will do. I can only grab one of the tablets with the spell, and it won’t stop Myrkul from coming after us.”
“We’ll handle Myrkul when he gets here,” Elminster said. “Right now, our only concern is getting the tablets back.”
Midnight nodded, then closed her eyes, envisioned a tablet, and performed an instant summons incantation.
At the bottom of the tower, Myrkul was about to step into the courtyard when the saddlebags suddenly became unbalanced and slid off his shoulder. He picked them up and looked into the side that had grown lighter It was empty.
He cursed an oath so profane that even one of his clerics would have winced then turned and ran back up the stairs.
On top of the tower, Midnight stood staring at the tablet in her hands. Until now, her magic had not fatigued her. But the instant summons was complicated and demanding, and she felt slightly weakened.
“Marvelous,” Elminster said. “Call the other one, and we’ll be on our way.”
“How are we going to get off the roof?” Kelemvor demanded, still standing on the door. The zombies were pressing on the other side, but did not have the leverage to push the fighter off.
“Well think of something,” Elminster replied.
Midnight shook her head. “I’m tiring. Even if the incantation doesn’t misfire, I won’t have anything left to fight Myrkul.” She did not doubt the Lord of the Dead was coming at this very moment. “You summon the other Tablet of Fate, Elminster.”
“I can’t,” the sage replied. “I haven’t studied that spell in years. But I can get us off this roof if you get the other tablet.”
The comment reminded Midnight that, as powerful as he was, Elminster still had to study his spells and impress their runes on his mind.
“I’ll try,” Midnight sighed, setting the first tablet down.
She called the instant summons incantation to mind again, then pictured the other tablet and performed it. An instant later, a storm of fist-sized rocks appeared over the tower and pelted the trio mercilessly.
“It failed!” Midnight said, feeling a little dizzy. Her body ached where a dozen stones had hit her, and her muscles burned with fatigue.
The trap door bucked beneath Kelemvor then it flew open, launching him into the air. He landed six feet away and rolled to his feet, still holding his sword.
A zombie climbed out of the stairwell. Kelemvor charged cleaving the corpse in two with a slash so vicious he nearly threw himself off his feet.
“Myrkul!” he screamed, staring at a dark-robed man behind his zombies.
Kelemvor’s sword suddenly changed into a huge snake and slithered around his body. The serpent’s scales were covered with a filthy green ooze, and a forked, black tongue flickered from its mouth. Myrkul shrugged. He had intended to heat the sword and burn the warrior’s hands, but he would be just as happy if a snake strangled the man to death.
The serpent wrestled Kelemvor to the floor then Myrkul sent his remaining zombies out onto the roof. Midnight grabbed her tablet and backed away. Elminster, however, calmly waited for Myrkul’s corpses to leave the stairway. Then he cast a spell he hoped would take them by surprise.
To the sage’s immense relief, a swarm of fiery globes leaped from his hand, each one striking a corpse in the chest. Most of the spheres carried the zombies off the tower roof. Some exploded into miniature fireballs that reduced the corpses to piles of ash and charred bone. In an instant, the meteor swarm had destroyed Myrkul’s protectors.
After hearing Elminster’s voice and seeing the fiery trails streak over the stairwell, Myrkul knew he would have to confront the woman and her friends alone. They had dared to hunt him, and when that failed, they had stolen a tablet off his person. The trio would continue to harass him until he destroyed them. Sighing in exasperation, the Lord of the Dead prepared a defensive spell and climbed out of the stairwell.
Elminster was the first to see Myrkul step onto the roof. Kelemvor was being strangled by the snake, and Midnight, tablet beneath her arm, was rushing to her lover’s aid. The Lord of the Dead wore a black hood pulled over his head. Beneath the hood, he had scaly, wrinkled skin covered with knobby lesions, black, cracked lips, and eyes so sunken that his face looked like a skull. Fiery blue embers burned where his pupils should have been. The saddlebags containing the other tablet were slung over his shoulder.
Elminster began to throw an ice storm at the avatar, but Myrkul lifted a hand and cast the silence spell he had prepared. Everything within five feet of the ancient sage suddenly fell quiet, as did the mage himself. Without the ability to speak aloud, Elminster could not complete the verbal component of his spell and it did not go off.
Noticing what had happened to Elminster, Midnight shifted her attention from Kelemvor to Myrkul.
“Come, my dear,” the Lord of the Dead said, his voice guttural and rasping. “Give me the tablet. I will spare your friends.”
Midnight had no time to bandy promises with the god. She called a simple magic missile to mind, dropped the tablet, and performed the incantation. A dozen golden bolts leaped from her fingers and struck Myrkul - then dissipated harmlessly, leaving a golden aura clinging to the Lord of the Dead’s putrid form.
Myrkul lifted a hand and examined his new radiance, then laughed at her botched spell. “How you taunt me, mortal!”
Midnight found herself trembling and feverish. Although the incantation was normally a rudimentary one, its potency had increased with her power. It had taken more out of her than she’d expected.
Myrkul held out his hand. “Once more, give me the tablet.” He turned toward Kelemvor and gestured at the snake. The serpent drew tighter around the warrior’s throat and his face immediately turned purple. “You have only a little time before your friend dies.”
Even for an instant, the mage did not believe Myrkul would keep his word and spare her lover. She had no intention of doing as asked, but neither could she bear watching Kelemvor die. Hoping the appearance of indecision would buy her time to think, Midnight tore her gaze away from Myrkul and looked out over the city.
To the south, great pillars of black smoke rose from the city’s North Ward. Midnight could even hear distant screams and faint clashes of steel. Dozens of griffon riders were battling tiny forms in the air. A few griffons rode over other quarters of the city, acting as messengers or scouts trailing enemy groups that had broken through the line. One griffon, carrying two riders, was flying toward Blackstaff’s tower.
The riders were too distant for Midnight to identify and she had no idea why they were coming toward the tower. Whatever their reason, she did not think they would arrive in time to save her and her friends, or to prevent Myrkul from getting both the Tablets of Fate.
“What is your decision?” Myrkul demanded.
“You win,” Midnight said, kneeling to retrieve the tablet at her feet. At the same time, she summoned the most powerful spell that came to mind, temporal stasis. The incantation was so difficult it would probably drain her, perhaps even burn her up completely, but she had no choice. If it worked, Myrkul would be trapped in suspended animation. Then she and her friends could deal with him at leisure. If it did not work, Myrkul would win.
Midnight cleared her mind then performed the incantation. A wave of fire rushed through her body and she collapsed to the roof. Her muscles ached and her nerves tingled as though she had fallen onto a bed of needles. The mage tried to breathe, but lacked the strength to open her mouth. A curtain of darkness descended over her eves.
Midnight forced herself to stay alert, the curtain to draw back, and her lungs to expand. Gradually, her vision returned and, weak as she was, the mage could see again. Myrkul stood motionless, the saddlebags containing the other tablet still slung over his shoulder. Without its creator’s will to guide it, the snake wrapped around Kelemvor seemed confused and uncertain. It was squeezing less fiercely now, its attention turned toward the Lord of the Dead’s motionless form. The warrior also seemed dazed, but managed to slip an arm inside the coil squeezing his throat, preventing the serpent from choking him.
Midnight stood and, carrying her own tablet, stepped toward the motionless god. The embers that served as Myrkul’s eyes flared.
“I-I’m not finished quite yet,” the Lord of the Dead croaked through quivering lips. The avatar’s whole frame was shaking. He was breaking free of the spell.
As she looked into the Lord of the Dead’s eyes. Midnight’s heart sank. It seemed nothing could stop him. Then the mage noticed a gray streak plummeting out of the sky. The griffon she had noticed earlier was diving to attack Myrkul’s back. Midnight dropped her eyes to the roof, not wanting to alert the evil god to the bravery of the griffon riders. Although the attack would stun Myrkul, it would not kill him. The magic-user knew she had to find a way to take advantage of the surprise.
While Midnight and Elminster, who was still under the influence of the silence spell, prepared to take advantage of the griffon attack, Kelemvor took several deep breaths and recovered some of his strength. He thrust his other arm through the coil around his neck then grabbed the snake’s head. Locking one hand onto the upper jaw and the other onto the lower, he pulled in opposite directions with all his might. An instant later, bone popped and the warrior ripped the jaws apart. The serpent’s body slackened and it began writhing in pain. Kelemvor slipped out of its grasp. He pitched the slimy, squirming thing over the side of Blackstaff’s tower then turned toward Myrkul.