I have an issue to address.
It pains me to say it, that even when an author does an original piece of work, there's every so often a part of it that appears to be "filler". Part where action is less, enemies theoretically important die in matter of one or two chapters and most important characters have their own problems rather than taking care of the most important matters. Under such a definition...

Half of chapter 16, chapters 17, 18, incoming chapter 19 and most of the following chapter 20... Are all filler. Yes, I've said it, and it pains me to do it. Maenaz does things, kills people, arranges small attacks against Neverwinter, and does a lot of stuff and it all seems filler because he is not doing the big things. Why doesn't he fight Neverwinter scum face to face? Why doesn't he kill them himself? Why doesn't he seem to truly get more powerful? And most of all... When the fuck will Xardas and Maenaz finally meet? In face of these questions, all of the above mentioned chapters may seem and appear filler. There's action, there's even some sex thrown there, but overall, it pushes the story forward only so much.

To anyone who get such a feeling, I want to say I'm very, very sorry. Those chapters are more or less neccesary - they're the way to show the individual actions, powers and development of both Xardas and Maenaz, since both of them will be getting new powers in a short time - Xardas steadily and regularly, and Maenaz rather abruptly. After chapter 20, I can assure you all other chapters are *very* important parts of the story, even though Maenaz's eventual attack on Neverwinter is a far cry from now - and the end of the fanfic is an even further cry, since I'm starting to believe I may hit the 75 or even 100 chapters mark if it keeps going that way. I want to assure you all that I try to make my "fillers" both as cool and as meaningful as possible - some information and events from them will be extensively used or mentioned at some point or simply the enemy is someone really special.

This chapter is one of the former. And Maenaz makes his own steps to make Neverwinter suffer instead of just relying on Samael.

I hope you will all enjoy the chapter despite its character. I wish you all happy new year, and please rate and review. In particular I'd like to know whether you feel I should push the story forward quicker. Then I'll make the filler chapters shorter by simply cutting some on dialogues and fights to make sure I get to write Chapter 21 as fast as possible.

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Chapter XVIII
Heroes’ Cold Night

After striking down his second Vrock that day, Maenaz came to the conclusion that eyesight was not something one could easily make up for.
Sure, technically nothing changed about his power or physical capability. Sure, he was still dangerous, deadly even. But when it came to fighting, everything was just… worse. His reflexes and reactions had much less stimuli to react to and, in effect, became slower, less sharp. His aim was totally off, and that was the worst part of it – whether it was blasting things around or fighting with a sword, he missed much more often than… ever, probably. He may have been more accurate when straight out of the Academy. His control over the battlefield hasn ‘t been less in at least a year. Moreover, what was once instinctual was now a problem. He actually had to *watch his step* instead of instinctually finding the right place to put a foot into and easily balancing his entire body.

All in all, he was a wreck. Not even half a combatant he was before… No, half was too optimistic. Probably not even a third.
And this was proven by the fact that after quite a bit of training, Maenaz finally engaged in a minor fight along with Samael’s “mercenary” force that he loaned (usually to devils) to fight in the Blood War, and despite there not being literally *any* high-ranked demons on the battlefield, he already took several wounds, one of them quite grave, and his own count of killed fiends being far below what he would really consider to be satisfactory.
In short, Maenaz considered this to be the worst shape he ever was in and started to seriously second-guess his decision of sacrificing his eyes.
Even the Dark Foresight only helped so much, changing him from a cripple to someone who actually COULD fight the abyssal horde, if nowhere near as effectively as before. However, he still was not completely used to the way Dark Foresight seemed to “behave” in the Lower Planes – detecting the danger and informing about it, but guiding him more towards it than against it.
All in all, he had to be totally focused or he’d lose something important. Like his head.

The additional sense informed him that he was quickly being surrounded, and he managed to discern the overall power of his attackers. Based simply on the few sounds and the way they approached he recognized that he was being attacked by about four Babau and seven relatively harmless Dretches.
[“They were harmless when you were in top form, Maenaz. Right now, just about anything can bring harm to you.”]
Still, to fear those would be so far below him.
He waited patiently for the demons to get just a little bit closer before blasting two dretches and one Babau with a cone of eldritch energy. Of course, the power of his blasts was as strong as ever – actually, since he perfected his skill of over-charging them with energy since his fight with Valsharess, stronger than ever. The three demons could not ever hope to survive this kind of attack – perhaps the babau could, if it was extremely lucky or a very strong and resilient specimen of its race.
Another Babau was to grab him, but a relatively well-aimed swing of his sword caused it to withdraw. He put a wall of flame behind himself to slow down any attacks from the rear and prepared himself for the next move from the bunch of fiends.

Moving right, contrary to the “good advice” from his additional sense, he managed to strike the back of another fiend who tried to push him over. Kicking away an approaching dretch, he fired a chain of eldritch energy, taking down three of the little fiends and violently harming one of the Babau as well.
The remaining shadowy demon that did not get hurt in the process of Maenaz’s last two moves finally managed to get a few good hits in, raking the warlock’s skin with its claws.
Maenaz swept the fiend of its feet with a low kick and proceeded to run it through with Enserric, ensuring that the babau would die on the spot.

The bands of dretches were not as stupid as they often acted, and instead of trying to overrun them, they begun their attempts to summon more of their kind to the battlefield. However, the creatures made the simple mistake of standing far too close to one another, and the ex-Hero of Neverwinter was not the type not to take advantage. Even as some more creatures begun to be summoned, they were immediately swept away by the power of a rapidly fired Eldritch Doom.
Of course, Maenaz’s aim was not what it once was, and two of the creatures remained alive. One of them, moreover, just finished the summons of a third dretch.
Not the type to hesitate, the black-haired human jumped straight into the small band of pathetic tanar’ri, swinging his blade around and starting to kill them one by another. As he did so, he was distracted by a sudden sound of buzzing – not enough, however, to leave unnoticed the fact that one of the remaining two Babau was already charging at him full speed.
Something that he once did by the virtue of skill alone, this time he pulled out only because of luck. After slaughtering second of the three dretches, he rapidly twisted, turning his side to the approaching Babau instead of his back, put his right hand over his left one, and fired an Eldritch Blast straight into the body of the running fiend, causing (but not seeing the effect) its hand, shoulder and a good third of its chest to be ripped away from its body, the demon falling in its tracks and quickly losing the last of his life writhing and twisting in pain on the gray sands of Hades.
Then, he realized the buzzing sound actually drew much, much closer than before.
Suddenly, he was struck by something that appeared to be in flight, his side pierced by some sort of horn or beak or whatever, and only too late he realized the additional “tickle” in his Dark Foresight.
He fell, rolling away to avoid the approaching two other devils, and the buzzing sound went silent, but he was well aware it was simply because the creature that just attacked him landed on the ground.
A voice spoke out. The sound was hard to describe – the language it spoke in was Abyssal, and the voice itself had the slightest hint of a humanoid female, but was mostly just… That. A sound that could not be spoken by anything remotely human-like.
Maenaz could pretty much imagine by know that the creature probably resembled some sort of a monstrous, flying insect.
- Fools, you’re fighting a blinded man and yet you treat him like if he was someone normal. It’s obvious he’s using some kind of magic to detect us, he can’t see us.
Maenaz responded, in Abyssal as well.
- For once, I’m grateful that I don’t have to see something as hideous as you. Too bad I’m not deaf as well, I wouldn’t have to listen to your disgusting voice.
- Your insults will lead you nowhere, human. Even if you’re powerful, once we take out your magical sight, it will become so easy for me to feast on your remains.
- You’re a fool if you think I’ll let you.

He rapidly fired an Eldritch Blast at the source of the voice, but was well aware he missed, probably due to its movement. The last remaining Babau rapidly engaged him in melee, the warlock barely dodging the rapid attacks and noticing that his wound from the insect-like fiend’s previous attack bled far more than any normal wound.
Suddenly, his foresight informed him that he was safe one last time (such idiocy!) before dispersing completely, leaving Maenaz little more than a powerful cripple, a blind man that could blow up entire castle walls with little more than a few second of power concentration and a flick of his wrist.
Then, he felt the pain. Repeated claw attacks from the Babau, then, a sharp pain in his leg that caused him to fall down on the ground.
He was literally getting his ass kicked by a pair consisting of one of the lowest demons of them all and a not-so-impressive quasi-humanoid fiend with oversized fingernails.
As he was lying on the ground, he heard the buzzing sound above him and then, the giant insect landed on him. Clawed hands raked his chest before moving to his hands to hold them in place, and a large, finely-haired body brushed against his. He was sure now – the creature resembled a giant fly or a bee, except it had some sort of a beak on its head and two clawed hands… and was about nine feet long altogether, if deceptively light.
- I’m going to feast on your body, mortal, and so will my little friends.

Maenaz felt a quick charge of magic before the beak buried itself in his flesh, and the creature’s wings swept, his body suddenly covered in a mass of far smaller insects that immediately begun biting and feasting on him.
Maenaz painfully twisted his own wrist in the beast’s grip, rapidly firing a cone of acid that covered the creature’s wings and back, causing it to screech in pain and release its grip. Maenaz immediately writhed under the creature’s body, lifting his legs and pushing the beast off him before firing another Eldritch Blast straight into the monster that barely managed to dodge. The Warlock knew that it used some variation of an Insect Plague spell during the attack, and that his cone of acid would clear most of the additional insects to his side, so he rolled away from his original spot. As he did so, he placed a wall of flames under himself in the last moment, burning any remaining insects as well as those that clung to his body.

The warlock raised to full height, his body still partially on fire from his own invocation, the flames rapidly dispersing as he dispelled it with his magic-consuming ability. Maenaz’s entire body was a mess, covered with smaller bites, claw marks, and two applications of the creature’s beak-like jaws, his leg bitten and clawed by the small dretch.

However, when the babau charged at him, he moved with surprising quickness, kicking it to the side with his healthy leg and sending a blast just milimetres to the side of its head. The dretch was about to attack, too, only to be cut down immediately by a well-aimed strike from the human’s sword. The insect-like Tanar’ri flew at him, but miscalculated, the damage from the acid spraying the warlock gave it reducing its speed and mobility. Carn’renor ducked under it and cut its lower side with Enserric, but the bigger surprise only awaited it right behind him, an Eldritch Doom striking just as it ran out of its range, the force of the blast knocking the beast off its wings so to speak and sending it to pummel into the ground. Maenaz activated his regenerating ability and turned to the raising babau to engage it.

To his own surprise, he was suddenly getting the hang of blind fighting. It appeared the last few days of training while he was enhanced by the special ability of two fiends from the Nefarious Seven paid off, and now being repeatedly attacked and beaten up by groups of enemies he had to deal with as his ability to detect them was in varying states paid off even more.

The insect flew by as he fought with the babau, again scratching his arm and trying to push him over, unsuccessfully, and moments later, the creature’s only remaining ally in attacking him was struck down by Enserric, its vitality further quickening the warlock’s healing process as the blade feasted on it.

As the flying demon approached once again, Maenaz pulled off a stunt no blind man ever was probably capable of, jumping up, shifting in the air and plunging his sword deep into the insect-like monster’s backside, flying along with it.
The beast released a screech and it was all Maenaz needed to aim the last blast of the fight, the mighty ray of energy blowing the beast’s “head” off its torso that it left hopelessly hurt anyways. Maenaz pulled out the sword with all his strength, but he had a hard landing anyway even without flying into some rocks with the beast’s corpse.


Before he managed to fully decide what to do now, as the battle was getting close to its finish, he suddenly felt as if something was wrong.

No, something, in fact, was wrong. It was practically oozing out from the air, a dark presence that…

That seemed to suddenly try and rip his life out of him. Of course, it failed, as Maenaz was pretty well-prepared to resist any sorts of necromantic attacks, but the attack seemed quite powerful and it only confirmed his suspicion that his fighting was far from over.
Then, he felt two sets of claws stabbing his back and he was immediately thrown away onto the ground. The sneak attack was rapidly followed by a discharge of evil energy that left him damaged and slightly sickened on the ground.
A raspy voice full of promise of death nearly whispered to him.
- So, you can defeat a Chasme even when utterly blinded and you’re filled with delicious life force… Under normal circumstances, you might even be able to defeat me, but right now, you’re just a tasty meal.
- I hate being thought of as food. You’re the one who will bite the gray dust of this plane.

If Maenaz could still see, he would probably dodge the next attack of the new, powerful demon that attacked him – a gargoyle-like fiend with large teeth, horns and glowing eyes. However, he couldn’t, and the attacks were too fast, too strong and unpredictable. After taking two hits to his chest, he managed to block a third strike and fire a blast straight into the demon’s abdomen, almost sending him flying. The fiend however got a strong grip on his arm and pulled itself back into the attack, attempting to bite the warlock with its grim tusk-like teeth. The warlock dodged and headbutted the fiend’s skull, before swinging Enserric, the fiend’s blood spilling all over him.
His new opponent grabbed him and flew into the nearby rock, where it started another assault on his body.
- It seems… like you’re… going to… make me work… for that delicious… treat… but soon… I’ll have… just…what… I… WANT!

The warlock felt his regeneration was at its limit and that this opponent was something else entirely, probably counted among the most powerful ranks of tanar’ri. He kicked the gargoyle-like creature away and fired a blast straight into its body, before putting a wall of flames where the beast landed.

The creature moved suddenly, discharging another wave of pure, evil energy against him before attacking him from behind in its flight. It pinned him into the ground, its claws buried deep into his back, the powerful jaws biting his shoulder as the warlock screamed in pain.

The demon extended its long tongue to lap at his wound, slowly moving to lick the side of his neck and his cheek before speaking out.
- We Nabassu demons feed not only on the flesh, but on the life force as well… I just wish I could both devour you and change you into my obedient undead slave, but I guess I will just have to make do with your delicious life force… Just give up, it’ll soon be mine anyway… It doesn’t have to hurt. So much, at least.
- Don’t get yourself all excited yet, tanar’ri… I have two aces up my sleeve still. *Wer whedaus di wer thurkear, akuech sia mlaen !*

Maenaz had no eyes to change under the effect of the invocation anymore, but he noticed an additional sense activating and how it perceived the powerful fiend that was atop of him.
- I’m going to…

The demon’s voice was drowned out in the sound of an Eldritch Doom descending upon the pair, the demon taking most of the damage as it’s body almost entirely shielded the warlock’s. Maenaz rapidly pushed the hurting creature off him, swinging Enserric to nearly chop off its hand as he rolled away from it. The beast attempted another energy attack, but the warlock was too fast, already upon him, swinging with his blade repeatedly. Another surprise attack after taking flight was also dodged, and it quickly became clear that, hurt as it was, the demon was no longer a match for the warlock, and after being send into the ground with another Eldritch Blast, Maenaz wondered why it even tried to get up.
- Powerful life force… Magic… Ability to fight despite being blind… additional senses… just what kind of monster are you?
- Oh, no monster. I’m just the best humanity has to offer. While you, on the other hand, are far weaker than those of your kind I’ve already slain in my carrier.
- I will not give up! I will feed upon you, and grow even stronger as your life will be squeezed out and absorbed into my own vital force! You’re just a meal, human, a meal!
- Then come and get your supper, demon. If you can.


The fiend leaped at him, trying his dangerous attack from the start of the fight as it did before he clashed with Maenaz, raking his skin with its claws. The warlock dodged next two strikes and hit the beast’s head with his knee as it tried to bite him. He then swung his blade down, chopping off the beast’s clawed palm, before pirouetting to find himself behind the demon, running it through with Enserric and putting his hand to its wing’s base and releasing a wave of acid. The beast screamed in pain and then simply whimpered as Maenaz proceeded to chop off what little connected the wing to the creature’s body and kicking it into the ground.
- And so, the hunter becomes the hunted.
- I… I see…
- You see what?
- I was never meant… to devour anything of yours. You’re already on your way to lose yourself to something… greater than I. But perhaps this is not the last time we… meet, mortal. If not, I hope the next of my kind that you’ll fight will be the one that kills you, and ends your journey.
- Shut up and die.
- Oh no. No.

He sensed a wave of Abyssal energy being released, and then drawing something through the fabric of the planes. Then, a terrible stench and the sounds of some large, powerful creatures filled the air... Followed by another rip in the fabric of space, and he was sure the nabassu disappeared.

Before he managed to engage the three summoned demons, he was released from that duty by the timely arrival of his own allies. The battle was over quickly.

Xardas never felt so literally and metaphorically crushed. There were absolutely none bright or even tolerable sides to being swallowed by a powerful creature that consisted mostly of shadow and terrible essence of negative energy. He could feel his body being crushed physically as the beast’s “muscles” tried to transport him deeper down its throat, but more importantly, his life force was being smothered and devoured as well, and it felt as if a horrifying coldness and darkness were trying to worm their way all the way down to his soul.

In short, being eaten by a Nightshade was worse than intolerable. And he knew it’d get worse – the beast probably, despite being what it was, still produced some sort of acid to decompose the bodies of its pray, and he still did not taste *that*. Not to mention he did not know how much air he had to use for his own needs – but the smell wasn’t pleasant, and breathing was hard.

He decided he would use his full array of freshly-gained abilities to get out of the undead monster, starting with the one most likely to make the monster realize he was hard to digest and eating him was a very very bad idea.

He started to whisper the spell’s incantation, evoking flames that surrounded his body. Then, as he spoke the last word, he unleashed them in an intense explosion that seemingly caused the beast to writhe in pain. Now that its insides were so nicely scorched, the Harbormen drew upon his Silver Sword and prepared to cut his way out. Knowing that the creature’s “muscles”, if it had anything resembling real ones, would not be able to try and close the hole immediately if they were electrocuted, he also prepared his newest power.
As he cut through the Nightshade’s innards, Xardas unleashed his first draconic breath in life. A line of crackling electricity came out of his mouth, exactly in the place he cut through the beast, causing it to shiver again as the Spirit Shaman propelled himself off the other wall of its throat and jumped out of the beast’s inside, the strength of the jump quickly squeezing him through the hole.

[*Kill KILL KILL I’ll DESTROY you mortal you will be DEAD meat there’s nothing you can do nowhere to run nowhere to hide I’ll BUTCHER you and leave you to ROT in the sand you pathetic foolish creature NO ONE CHALLENGES MY MIGHT HERE NO ONE I’LL…*]

[“Shut up.”]

He realized that at least one of his main sources of power would be weakened upon leaving the creature – it drained his life force. Since he could use his most freshly gained powers as a Sorcerer and his breath weapon, that meant he could no longer utilize his full potential as a Spirit Shaman. The only question was, how big would the difference be.

He decided he should test this by trying something high-level but not the top of his list.
The sky suddenly became illuminated as if it was a sunrise (or a sunset, and then was visibly covered by raging flames that were the result of his magic.
Xardas smirked. It appeared that the Firestorm was working just fine.
[“It’ll do.”]




Samael was visibly surprised, stunned even, by what his human “ally” just informed him of. That was… Unexpected. So not-like-Maenaz.
- You just threw away your own EYES to achieve a greater vengeance against Neverwinter and, straight after that, you’re telling me you want to *take a break* from our deal? What, you need vacation? A few weeks somewhere in a sunny city of the elves or what?
- I want a break from our deal. Not from pursuing vengeance.
- And it begs a question – how do you intend to separate the two?
- You see… I’ve gained an alternate means of attacking Neverwinter. One that I have a feeling will work – and not just a feeling, I have good reasons to believe it’ll be so as well. Straight after I return, I’ll also like to use my first wish… And then, we may return to our standard methods of service and payment. I bet you’ll find something good enough for me later.
- How long do you think you’ll be gone?
- Not so long. A few days at most, since it will require me to go to my own plane and then accomplish a certain… quest.
- I understand. Very well then, I should be able to fully plan out your next mission by then. However, just letting you go would seem so… unlike me. Without much information, it would seem like you’re just… running away, Maenaz.
- I am not *running away*, Samael.
- It would make sense for you to. You’re just a mortal, your mental resistance to the horrors you see and fight, as well as to the influence of the Lower Planes and its inhabitants is limited. Perhaps you already feel your sanity starting to crumble, perchance because you realize no *normal* and *sane* man would sacrifice his eyesight on an archfiend’s word that it will be for his self-improvement in the end. Not to mention having liaisons with former dukes of hell… Not to mention participating in ancient rituals that cursed the city you once swore to protect and almost sacrificed your life to do so. It would make sense for you to try and run away from that, wouldn’t it?

[“ He’s right. I should be scared and terrified and disgusted with myself by now. I should have those doubts. I should not be trying to further use that deal with something so evil it makes all of Zhentarim put together seem like saints and Morag seem like a child.”]

He lowered his head.
[“What scares the shit out of some part of me is that I want this to continue.”]

- If I was indeed running away it may be fitting for what I was years ago, but it would be betraying everything I had *became*, Samael. No, I am no longer that man. No more goody-two-shoes. No more heroism. No more valor to be shown in order to protect the weak and the innocent. Not a shred of innocence is inside me left to protect. I am Aribeth’s avenger. I am the one who’s goal is to destroy Neverwinter. That alone makes me something that I would fight before, and that I would probably perceive as cruel and vile. But there’s more to that, Samael. For now, I am your ally, and I am a soldier of the Gate of Vipers. There’s no running away from that – and I no longer want to.
The archdevil smirked. Maenaz did not want to know what went through his head.
- I received a certain proposition while I was in the city of Hopeless travelling back from the mission to obtain the Ashen Gloves of Carnage. An odd Rakshasa necromancer that claimed to be accomplices with a member of some group of outsider assassins. He offered that his accomplice would meet me and murder a “good-aligned” target of my choosing if I killed a certain fey creature from my plane in return. I accepted and learned the location of the creature. I intend to use the deal in order to murder a certain someone that killing myself would take far longer than I’d like.
- Lord Nasher?
- No. That one, I kill myself. Besides, Nasher is no bleeding heart. He would not probably be accepted as a target. This is someone else, one of the Neverwinter Nine. Once I return, we keep following our deal and everything will be nice and well.
- So be it. I’ll arrange for your transport into the Prime Material as near your target as possible. Once you return, you may meet your Rakshasa friend in the city of Hopeless, but then, we’ll have to move quick. Once I locate the target of your next mission, it is very important that you’ll move to fulfill it quickly. Important for both of us, in fact.
- I’ll keep that in mind.

Xardas only barely dodged the eldritch blast that came soon after the Firestorm started to die out. It appeared the beast became invigorated instead of getting hurt, his head now aching from the sudden inflood of threats, expressions of bloodlust and pain, and the sheer anger that radiated from the undead monstrosity. It tried to grab him in its jaws again, but the spirit shaman was already more than used to the kinds of movements one had to make when fighting opponents far bigger than oneself. As the beast tried to encircle him, he quickly brought down lighting only to be blasted with the beast’s special attack.
Running, he sliced the beast’s tail as he jumped over it, setting the beast ablaze with another quick Inferno and hoping it couldn’t take much more – he was already very tired from the battle and afraid he might, actually, lose it. This started to feel like battling the King of Shadows all over again.

And he did not like it. Not one bit.


Managing to dodge the beast’s sting in the last moment, Xardas once again went into the state of a Storm Avatar, moving beside the Nightshade and firing the shards of his now electrified blade into the beast’s head in the form of a Blade Storm. The creature groaned mentally as he followed the move with a rapidly charged Heal spell that further damaged the creature. He then started to run away from it to get some breathing space, but as he did so the beast fired its blast twice into a large rock complex and caused the boulders to fall straight into Xardas’ path. As he turned around he saw in the blink of an eye that the beast’s front part was already buried underground, and felt the earth under him move. That could mean trouble.


Maenaz was already far from the place where his portal was activated, and he certainly hoped he did not get lost. With his Dark Foresight on and all the training he had and with him memorizing the map, it should not be so. He appeared to be approaching a small village and perhaps he could gain some information there – if anybody trusted him enough, which may not be easy knowing how self-dependant and suspicious people of the North tended to be. It may be harder to reach his destination than he thought.

Still, anybody should be amazed by how well the warlock adapted to his blindness. It usually took many years for anyone blinded to be able to move the way he did, let alone fight against powerful enemies. There was still much left to improve and he had a lot of help from both his Dark Foresight and his fiendish accomplices, but nevertheless, despite the hardships he retained a lot of his capability in battle. There was a long way to go if he wanted to achieve the level he had before he lost his eyes, and unknown to him, nothing became easier at the end of that way, but nevertheless…
Maenaz was ready. Ready to fight, and to continue exacting his vengeance.

Of course, when he entered the village he did not *want* to do battle. Still, fate had Maenaz fight in many battles he did not particularly want to – and it was going to get worse for him as far as that was concerned.

Maenaz did use his Dark Foresight to improve his knowledge of surroundings during the travel, but now, it was warning him of a threat- more than one, actually.

Had the former Hero of Neverwinter retained his sight, he would see three creatures of ice spreading mayhem amongst the villagers, nearly unchallenged as they lay waste to the houses and murdered their inhabitants. Two of them were winged monsters strongly resembling gargoyles, but the last one was something completely else entirely. A hulking, humanoid creature of pure ice, its “body” covered with runes and sigils that would require no small amount of ability to read or apply. Said creature currently occupied itself with smashing the skull of the man that attempted to protect his wife and daughter from it.

Maenaz did not take long to pick a side in this conflict, and fired a blast into one of the icy gargoyles that pestered the townsfolk.
The beast managed to dodge, or perhaps it was Maenaz who slightly missed, and turned its attention towards the new threat. Maenaz was unsurprised when it charged upon him instead of attempting to fly – after all, he could not exactly see what it was.
The warlock dodged the attack expertly, slashing the beast in the mid-run, then kicking it away and onto the ground before blasting it into oblivion. The creature split into a mass of icy shards which flew into every direction from the strength of the blast.
And that was it. No… nothing. No reaction to pain or anything else.
This confirmed Maenaz’s suspicion.
[“Undead?... No. Undead would be detected differently, they would make sounds, they would react differently… You’re fighting constructs here. All three of them are golems of some sort. Well, two now.Oh, *never* would have guessed people may use ice as a crafting material for those!”]

The hulking figure (now identified as an ice golem) suddenly appeared to strain before releasing a spray of ice shards, slaughtering a group of innocents that were in the vicinity. Two of the villages men, apparently fighters of some sort attempted to distract it, but to no avail, and one of them was now being pummeled by the far more powerful creature.

Maenaz was in a giving mood and decided to save the poor soul before he was killed by the construct, and realizing the golem was probably as immune to magic as others of its kind decided to bypass the immunity rather than put the thing on fire and risking harming the man. A quickly charged acidic blast was sent straight into the creature’s back, and it succeeded in both gaining the golem’s attention as well as damaging it. The construct let go of the man, who probably had at least two broken limbs and several broken ribs already, and turned towards the warlock. It charged upon him, but was of course momentarily too slow, and the warlock dodged. He awaited a few moments to be sure his next move connects, but that one was not directed against the golem.
He turned away and slashed the icy gargoyle straight through its chest just as its claws reached him. He shivered – the claws were now apparently literally charged with magical cold and to a greater extent than he anticipated, but it was no big deal. As his blade left a deep seam in the white ice the gargoyle was apparently build of, he kicked it away only to make it land in a wall of flames he conjured moments before. The creature started to melt onto the flames as he turned around to face the raging golem once again.

This time, the warlock was a moment too slow, and had to first take the wave of icy shards that pierced his skin and numbed him to the bone, and then a powerful hit that he managed to weaken by twisting his body back and to the side. Nevertheless, the mighty punch send him flying a few feet and he had the sudden urge to rub his butt after hitting solid ice when he met the ground.

The golem charged him again and the warlock rolled to the side to avoid getting crushed under its fist. He then rose to full height, spraying an acidic cone on the automaton’s back as he did so, and proceeding to slash the construct with Enserric repeatedly, the newest addition to the blade’s array of powers-electricity doing its job relatively well against the icy construct. The golem managed to connect yet another strike, sending the warlock flying and perhaps even breaking a rib, but the warlock did not particularly care about it yet. He got back onto his feet immediately, reminding himself once again that if he had sight, the timing of the next move would be a hundred times easier.
No point in crying over spilled milk, however. The two opponents charged against each other, which must’ve looked as if Maenaz was performing a suicidal attack. Just as they were about to reach one another, flames burst below the hulking figure of the ice golem, and the warlock jumped avoiding the construct’s blow, swinging his own blade as the gravity pulled him back onto the ground. The sword cut through the golem until it stuck somewhere in its middle, discharging electricity, the combined power of physical and lighting damage sending cracks in the golem’s entire structure just as the flames from below consumed and melted it. The construct suddenly stopped moving and instead started to break into little pieces, falling down into the eldritch flames.
Maenaz sighed.
[“Why, oh why do all these fights have to turn so dramatic? I could’ve broken half of my bones if it didn’t work. I need to be more careful.”]


It appeared that those were all of the opponents that attacked the city but Maenaz knew better. They were certainly connected to the fey he came here to kill and , if they were all constructs, there was a high chance that the spellcaster that made them for her (or helped making them) was around overseeing their progress.
Still, it was yet undetectable and wasn’t showing, so the warlock sheathed his sword. He was approached by one of the men that stood up to the constructs – the one that wasn’t lying on the ground with broken ribs, of course. The men was definitely somewhat hesitant to approach him, but it seemed he was of the stronger and more confident sort, easily defeating any doubts and beginning with the line he originally intended to.
- It appears that blind man have a certain knack for saving the North from danger and distress. It’s a pity you tend to arrive with the rescue just a little bit too late, however.
- I have no idea what you’re referring to, good man. I am merely a passerby here on his own business.
- And yet, you saved this village, though given how fast you move you might have just as well ran away. Also, I have a feeling I know what this business is. You’re here for the fey witch, aren’t you?
- Perhaps. But for all you claim to know about me, I know relatively little of you.
- Brandon Grayfox, at your service. Just as you, I was originally merely a passerby. However, it appears my travel here has been for naught. The fey witch destroyed my original purpose for coming here.
- The men will be busy with saving what they can and gathering the bodies of the dead for a moment now. I’d rather avoid notice, but I’m afraid soon everyone will know about how I apparently saved the village. How about we go into the tavern, I’ll buy you a beer and you will tell me all you know about why you came here and all you know about this witch, Brandon?
- I’d say a beer sounds like a good idea right now. I could use a bit of a rest after travelling all the way here practically for nothing. Let’s go before we get too much notice.


They ensured the men that barricaded themselves in the tavern that it is safe now, and Maenaz quickly moved to the tavern’s bartender to get what he came for. He avoided any sort of contact with the ones already inside – filthy cowards, every single one of them. They simply waited there while their neighbors and perhaps their families were slaughtered outside.
He spoke to the bartender in a cold, neutral voice.
- Me and my friend here have a bit to talk about, but his throat is a bit dry. Get him a beer, on my cost – he said, throwing a few coins on the table.
- Neverwinter money, eh? So, from the Sword Coast ar’ye? Pretty far from here.
Indeed, now that he thought about it, he was far from the Sword Coast. To best of his knowledge the village was in the South-Eastern part of the Nether Mountains, south of Sundabar and nearby the desert of Anauroch. Even Silverymoon was quite a bit west from here, not to mention Neverwinter. And the only money he possessed indeed came from the Sword Coast – he only ever earned anything in Neverwinter or in Waterdeep, and the latter were just a few coins he got from a little exchange.
Still, he doubted anybody knew his real identity here. Silverymoon, maybe. Waterdeep, yes. Sundabar? Wishful thinking. Here they might have not even heard of the Wailing Death, not to mention Maenaz Carn’renor that stopped it.
- Indeed it is – he said, turning back to Brandon. – Now, tell me good man… What brought you here and why was it for nothing?
- Eh, long story it is, my friend. If you really wish to know, I came from a large village on the side of the Spine of the World, north of Lurkwood and east of Icewind Dale. I came here simply because someone needed to. You see, my village has a certain history we rarely speak of to outsiders, but one that is every bit true. My mother, an old half-elven woman, was around when it all happened, though she was only but a child. If you wish, I can tell you the story, but it may seem fantastic to you.

Maenaz considered. He wasn’t in a particular hurry – the village may be attacked again if he moved too quickly, and the men seemed to possess knowledge of these parts of the world, so perhaps he would know something useful about the fey as well. He decided to listen.
- Go ahead. Tell me.
- Very well. My people live in the shadow of more than just the Spine of the World. As you may know, the Spine of the World and the Icewind Dale border with a great, giant mass of ice, called the Reghed Glacier, one of the few great glaciers of Faerun. One might think that nothing would live long on or inside such a mass of ice, but this is only partially true.
Nobody knows how long have they been residing in there nor where exactly they come from, but creatures do inhabit the Reghed Glacier. Only that this is nothing anybody would consider normal animals, normal *anything*.
Maenaz continued to listen.
- The only wildlife, if it can be called so, of the Reghed Glacier are bunches of cruel, unnatural monstrosities that, due to what they are and the threat they represent, have collectively been called the Glacial Menace. Over the decades, people of the North rarely came into contact with the Menace – occasionally a stray wandered was devoured by the beast or a too-eager adventurer had to battle a couple of those monstrosities, but that was about it. The reason for this safety was unrevealed for many years, but now we know – a tribe of strange creature’s, human-like, but not human, dedicated their lives to protecting our homes and the humans that lived in the Icewind Dale and nearby the Spine of the World from this threat. They were successful for many generations. However, whether the Menace has grown stronger in time, or the last generation of our protectors was not strong enough, or any combination of the two, during my mother’s childhood over one century ago the Glacial Menace finally shown its full magnitude. They butchered innocents, led by creatures as powerful as any demon, and often smarter than we have ever anticipated. Many died, as no warriors were capable of standing up to the Menace.
- So, what stopped it? Why are you here, alive, and able to talk to me?
- A man came from the south. Blind, like you, but of both human and elven blood. He and his two apprentices were able to stand up to the Glacial Menace and destroyed many of the foul creatures, but when they stood against the strongest of the monsters, not even their power appeared to be enough. They performed two rituals – one a group spell that caused the ice to break and entomb the most powerful of the Menace, and the other to seal them inside for as long as possible. The ritual was long and involved sacrifices, one of which was the blind part-elf’s life. It succeeded, however – the Menace was gone, at least for a time.
- It seems typical for the stories about the heroes and evils of old. No matter how powerful or great the savior, he is only capable of sealing the evil or sending it back were it came from, never killing it. And then, said evil appears in our times only to find someone who kills it permanently.
Brandon laughed.
- Oh, how I wish what you said was true! Although, now we often have Drizzt and his pack around, so maybe there is some hope…
- Are you telling me your people suspect they may soon be attacked by the Glacial Menace again?
- Its more than a suspicion, friend. They’re coming again. Maybe not now, maybe not in a decade… But in a three or four, half a century at very best, they’ll be back. It is inevitable, and now, we have neither the tribe of protectors nor the blind hero to rely upon. However, there was a certain hope, which is why I came here.
- And we come to the conclusion. What was your reason for visiting these parts?
- You see, a certain being lives on the Spine of the World. She is of a rare kind, the name of which I do not know, and she bears probably as many names as there are tribes, clans and villages around the Spine. We call her the Ice Oracle, for she appears like a woman made entirely of delicate but eternal ice, and she is wise beyond words – she knows of many things that happen, happened before, and even can predict some that only will happen in the future. However, she does not know everything, and we couldn’t rely just on her knowledge after what she told us – this invasion of the Glacial Menace will be different from all others, she said, and she even gave us something to work it. She said this time around, before the invasion happens two beings will be born amongst the sentient creatures of the North, and she named them the Prophets of the Menace. She also told us she does not know how to stop or defeat, or at least weaken the Menace, but her kin that lives in the Nether Mountains may. At the very least, this kin – a maid seemingly made of snow, as it I learned – may know more about the Menace and probably will know about the Prophets, which in turn would be the last sources of possible information on how to stop it. The Snow Oracle was supposed to be in this land, but I arrived too late, and for naught – the fey witch has already destroyed her, and taken much of the land for herself. This is why I said blind men tend to save people of the North but arrive a bit too late – something already was lost and now we must find a different source of information, yet I still wish you luck on…
It was then when a group of people finally barged into the tavern, a woman pointing at him and shouting that “He’s the one”, as the group approached him quickly, nervousness visible in their movements. An old geezer spoke out, Maenaz guessed from the voice, apparently some kind of the town wise elder or something.
- People in the village bear witness to your act of bravery, stranger. How you single-handedly disposed of the icy abominations that attacked us. Tell me, do you know of the Virago? Did you come here to kill her?
- What if I did?
A moment of silence only interrupted by whispers befell the tavern. Then, the old man spoke again.
- We would be eternally grateful if you managed to strike her down. Brave men of our village are willing to assist you, and…
- And the bravery of those man was proved by interrupting my conversation. Both brave and rude, one might say.
Again, a moment of silence. A moment of consideration of how to tell the stranger they knew nothing of that they beg for a savior, and yet make it sound as if they still retained any sort of pride or honor.
Maenaz knew this from somewhere. A pathetic bunch of losers whimpering for a hero and clutching to the legs of anyone who came around and had the potential to be one. Mere weaklings who could do nothing by themselves, waited for someone to do it for them, and gained a debt they could never truly repay – one they did not intend to pay up simply because heroes were supposed to find solace in the simple thought they saved their pathetic lives.
- So, since we already are on this topic, where I can find this… “Virago”, as you said?

Brandon was the only one that retained full wits after his previous comment, and said what Maenaz hoped to take out of him in the first place.
- The Frostwind Virago is said to have taken the old fortress on the side of the mountains east of here for herself. Her strange slaves and a few of her fully willing associates reside there, though no one has seen her in person for quite some time.
- So, I know at least where to start looking. Thank you, Brandon. I hope this Glacial Menace of yours is postponed until after your own time.
- Thank you, but perhaps I should…
- I’ll be going now.
- We appreciate your bravery – said the old man - but no one has ever reached the Fortress. At least no one lived to tell the tale. You shouldn’t go alone…
- You are mistaken. Nobody ever succeeded because I was not here before. It’s as simple as that. And it is not bravery. I am merely doing my job. Literally.
- You seem full of yourself, and what you’re saying…
- Silence, old man. Do not make a hero out of me. I know where this path leads. You’re mistaken if you think I came here to make a name for myself after killing this Virago of yours. I did not come here out of the goodness of my heart, nor to gain fame, nor riches, nor the admiring looks of the townsfolk nor even free entrance to the beds of the wenches you call your women. All of these things do not interest me. You’re merely lucky and that is all – someone else has a problem with this witch of yours, and that someone hired me. If not for that coincidence, I wouldn’t be here and apparently, neither would be all of you, at least not alive. I am not your hero, so do not try to pretend you’re helping. I go alone. If you’re lucky, tomorrow the only problem you’ll have on your heads will be the wolves trying to feed on the flesh of your dead. Unless something that the witch controlled before survives and avoids my reach, then you’ll have another problem. One that I will not help you deal with. Move out of my way.
As he made his way through the crowded tavern, Brandon spoke out.
- It appears I have been mistaken. The blind man that saved us over a century ago was a hero. You appear to simply be a mercenary.
- You’re not the one who’s paying, so why care? Just go to your village and tell them the Snow Fairy or whatever was killed. And now, at least you know you don’t need to pluck your eyes out to deal with your Menace, Brandon.
- Yeah, that appears to be an advantage.

Then, Maenaz left.

Pathetic losers. Every single one of them. They lacked determination to do anything by themselves – instead, they awaited for a miracle, for a leader, for someone out of the sky to come and lead them against their enemies.
Maenaz was no longer a person that would do that. He saved the villagers on a whim. He might’ve waited until the village was done with and then try to follow the creatures back to their masters.

Which remainded him that there was a certain thing he needed to do before he went to the fortress, if only for completion. After all, he owed the villagers nothing.
Instead of going straight towards the fortress on the east, he turned and entered a small path that appeared to be rarely used, following his instinct, and even more so, his Dark Foresight.
Until, finally, he stood face to face with the one he looked for.
A raspy voice that appeared to barely be able to get out of an extremely dry throat spoke to him, as Maenaz tried to visualize exactly what kind of undead did he have before him.
It was no lich, he would recognize.
- Seeing the way you dealt with mine our Lady’s prized creations despite your… handicap, I had a feeling you may know how to find me. But it’s futile. Killing me will accomplish nothing, and you cannot kill our Lady.
- That’s what you think, Undead. And it’s probably only because she made you think that way. You’re a spellcaster, aren’t you? That means there’s a good chance you tried to defeat her yourself… and failed.
- I… I must stop you from reaching the Lady. Nothing will change that.
- Try, you fool.
Just as he expected, the opponent begun with an arcane spell, but unexpectedly, instead of a cold spell he used Mestil’s Acid Breath. Maenaz decided to answer with an acidic attack of his own and brought down the Vitriolic Doom on the poor undead. As the attack cleared, the two leaped at each other, Enserric cutting the creature as it tried to bury its chilling claws in Maenaz’s flesh. He took the attack easily before pirouetting next to the creature and cutting its leg, finishing the move by kicking the undead down from the mountain path and sending another blast after it.
- Piece of cake.

Now that he had that pitiful excuse for a sorcerer out of his way, he could get back on his way to this so-called fortress.

Xardas rarely got the feeling that he was staring directly in the face of death. Maybe when he fought two dragon at once, and maybe when he battled the King of Shadows, but there weren’t many more instances than that.
But the sight of the beast’s horrific excuse for a maw opening up to devour him definitely made the list.
Still, thanks to his hundreds of fights and the Storm Avatar, he was too fast for this, expertly dodging to the side and Flame Striking the beast’s immense body as it pulled itself out of the ground.
Then, the tail came out of the ground, aiming straight at him before firing a cold-charged blast. This time, he dodged minimally, but that was his limit. As the ground was torn asunder from the monstrosity shifting under it, he lost his balance, and the beast swung its head and upper neck to ram them into him. He flew away at least ten feet, before finally landing in the dust of the Shadow Undrentide.
But the worst was just to come. His eyes darted to the side to see the giant sting at the end of the beast’s tail descending on him with blinding quickness.
No amount of speed-increasing spells could have saved Xardas from the attack in this position. It did not mean he simply intended to lay there and take it head-on, but as he tried to dodge, he knew his chances were only slight.

When a sharp pain tore through his side and he felt his insides being crushed and severed he realized he has failed. Or more accurately, he only succeeded in moving so much as to avoid getting split in half by the sting, or nearly so. The damage done still looked very grim,and when he realized that his strength was rapidly decreasing and his body appeared to react strangely, he realized the full implications of the attack – not only was he stabbed by a giant sting, he was also *poisoned* by it. And he doubted a creature as powerful as this one would bother with adding poison to its array of powers if the toxin itself wasn’t powerful.

Xardas allowed himself to slip fully into the realm of the spiritual, his ravaged human form suddenly disappearing as he shifted uncomfortably when the feeling of being stuffed with the cruel-looking sting was replaced instead by an overwhelming physical and spiritual pain and strength lightness to his own very being.

He needed to move away and, most of all, he needed to heal.
He moved as far away from the monstrosity as he could in his current state, watching it twist and cast around its gaze as it searched for him. Finally sure he was relatively safe, he extorted the last bit of strength he had to stumble from a small hill and roll down into a small hole in the ground that was on the other side of it. That didn’t help his pain, but at least he ensured that the creature would not realize where he was immediately after the effect of his unique ability wore off.
Xardas sighed, trying to clear his head, to focus despite the overwhelming aching and hurting all over *his very being*. He needed just a one, simple spell to be back into the game.
The problem was casting it.


Maenaz took long enough to find the fortress, blind as he was, his Dark Foresight mostly just useful for warning him from danger despite his months of usage of it and at least a couple of weeks of more *intense* and *creative* attempts at utilizing it. He realized maybe he should have accepted the offer for help when he realized he was being shadowed by something even though it shouldn’t be later than mid-afternoon. As he walked instinctively in one direction for a couple of meters, his hand finally found something to press against, and he realized he was standing directly next to the stony wall of the old fort.
Maenaz never considered the career of a rogue and by that point he considered finding the correct door and trying to open them to be beneath him, especially now that he had no eyes to rely on.
Therefore, he carefully counted a few steps back and lifted his hand in front of himself, rapidly charging a ray of destructive, eldritch energy. When he fired it, the wall quickly gave way, imploding into smaller chunks of stone.
[“Wrong!”] He mentally berated himself, as he took another step back, avoiding a rock that might have crushed his left foot if he stood in his original spot.
He then stepped forward, walking into the small castle or whatever term was appropriate for the long abandoned, slightly ruined fortress. He threw his now blind gaze around more out of habit than any real necessity. He already knew he was in “danger”. Not such a small pack of elemental creatures as well as a few more undead were inside the castle walls, very close to him.
If he still had sight, he would’ve seen that the undead were mere skeletons and zombies, unlike the frostbitten, dried up shell of a sorcerer he fought before that might’ve still passed for a *very* old alive human if the creature’s mannerisms were appropriate. The elemental creatures were most certainly the ones produced by the witch’s unholy research – the “Chraals”, beings that should never be born on the Prime Material plane but were thanks to the Virago.
The creatures appeared humanoid, but a far cry from “human”. Cold blue light leaked from their eyes, mouths (filled with wickedly sharp teeth), and jagged spurs and spines formed ridges across its muscular, 8 feet tall body – a body that, upon closer examination, appeared to be constructed from bluish-black ice more than anything else.
It was a question of movement. Maenaz liked to think nothing humanoid moved faster than him. And as far as the nearest few miles were concerned, he definitely was right.
He blasted the first Chraal on his right into the wall as he rapidly sprung up a wall of flames in front of himself to give himself an additional measure of protection. Unexpectedly, two of the Chralls attacked from a distance with powerful waves of cold, one he was quick to identify as hard to dodge, cold-shaped magical effects or perhaps breath weapons. He knew a group of creatures tried to flank him from the side not protected with the flame wall but was well-prepared, bathing them in acid by means of his Vitriolic Doom.
Finally, he had to rely on Enserric once the first zombie was too close, and he rapidly cut it down before pirouetting to the other one and decapitating it. A Chraal attempted to reach for him with its icy claws but he knew better, dodging them gracefully before impaling the creature on his blade only to force him off it by a combination of pulling it out and blasting the beast off it. Another Chraal attempted to slash at him from above, and he managed to block the falling claws with Enserric.

Inhuman strength forces his muscles to strain and extend every bit of their energy to withstand the attack from above without giving way.
As he sought a way out of the defensive position, Maenaz couldn’t help but grin.


Xardas finally managed to relax for a moment as the cocoon of protective, regenerating energy engulfed him and started to mend his wounds and clear his organism of the unnatural toxin the evil undead produced.
He had to be quick, however. It wouldn’t be long before the monster detected him.
When the ground around him started to slightly shake and shift, he decided he had no time to fully regenerate and quickly broke the spell, casting another restoring one to repair any left-over damage from the poison. Just then, his eyes darted to the side, catching a glimpse of a tail being swung, sting making its way towards his body again.
Xardas’ body went flared itself up with Aura of Vitality as he took a step back, kneeled and *blocked* the terrible sting, causing the two to engage in a contest of strength of a moment before the creature’s awkward positioning and waves of positive energy Xardas started to emanate thanks to yet another spell caused the sting to slide off its intended course and into the ground. The beast encircled the hill with its body, its singular eye and maw making their way to face Xardas, visibly surprised at him being in such a good state. Xardas inhaled as he started his next big move.
He dashed forward and pulled his blade behind himself before stretching his body and throwing the sword straight at the monster’s head.

Maenaz sighed as he added the last creature to the mountain of corpses.
- They don’t make evil elementals and undead like they used to. Now, even a cripple can slaughter a bunch of them and still stand straight…
The Chraals, he discovered, had a worrisome tendency to explode upon dying, releasing further waves of coldness as well as causing pieces of their hard, icy bodies to be thrown around with great impact. Clawed, ridged and spined as the creatures were, their bodies could still deal some damage even after death. The explosion wasn’t something tremendously powerful, but it was enough to avoid it.

He entered the main hall of the castle, pacing through it as he sought a way to meet the “Frostwind Virago”, or at least more of her servants. He smiled as his sense started to pulsate in his head with more fervor. He was approaching something of a greater magnitude than anything he slaughtered in the outer rings of the castle.


As he entered one of the inner chambers of the castle, so did another being from the other side of it.
Maenaz was quick to realize what it was. It moved, breathed, was very tall, and very heavy. When it spoke, he was absolutely sure – a frost giant. The only question was how special of a Frost Giant it was. The room was otherwise almost empty – a single Chraal and two skeletons walked around nearby the right wall.
- A single human? You’re the one who dares to attack us? Where’s the rest of the assault?
- Well, not counting me, there’s… My sword, Enserric, which can be pretty talkative… And my shadow, he’s of the strong, silent type… And I think that’s about it.
- Impossible. No human could possess the power to slay enough chraals and undead to get to this point.
- I’m hurt. We only met and you’re already accusing me of being inhuman.
- Stop your needless retorts, human! Turn away and leave this place, or you will spend the rest of Eternity as an undead slave to the whims of its Lady.
- Sounds kinky, but the climate’s a bit too cold for my tastes. Do you think they’ll burn more in the chimney once the cold winter nights come? Or perhaps the Lady intends to move from here soon?
- You’re impossibly frustrating, human. Slaves, get him! Catch him alive, if possible!
The three creatures rapidly charged at him, entering his range far too quickly for their own good. After being splashed with acid, first one fell to Enserric, second one was kicked into a pillar and the poor Chraal got placed inside a flame wall before being cut up by the magical, intelligent blade. He then turned to the frost giant and started to charge up a far more powerful attack, but something was wrong.

In the last moment, Maenaz moved to the side, a large bolt tearing flesh from his side instead of impaling him, pulses of unnatural coldness coming from the wound. Seconds later, he unleashed Eldritch Doom upon the frost giant, causing it to roar in pain before he rushed straight at his opponent, running with supreme speed down the hall and to his opponent. When the giant saw this, his obvious reaction was to drop the crossbow and get a melee weapon as he exclaimed :
- You’re insane! You’ve lost your mind, human!
Maenaz blasted the creature straight where the sound was coming from before slashing dodging its sweep of a large, bludgeoning weapon – a heavy Morningstar, but Maenaz could not identify it in the current state. He cut the tendons in the creature’ right foot, Enserric slowly healing the wound he was dealt by the bolt and Maenaz conjured another wall of flames under the creature as he aimed another blast.
Then, he was kicked away.
[“Noted – unusual movement coordination for a giant. Got the hang of how to use its legs far easier than expected. Results…”]
He quickly made use of his new invocation gained thanks to Samael’s ritual, the Curse of Despair, wanting to rapidly weaken the creature – after all, it should not have the sort of willpower to withstand it – before saying.
- A difficult opponent... - he said more to himself than the giant.
The giant was quickly upon him, but Maenaz leaped off the ground, ramming his blade straight into his chest, dangerously close to the heart. He propelled himself off his opponent while conjuring another wall of flames under him, and landing
- And… - he said, as he begun preparing the next mighty strike.
For his own safety, he turned away as he gathered the energy, nearly running onto a nearby pillar, before turning back to the frost giant and unleashing the dreadful attack that was conjured of his darkest emotions and the most menacing of his eldritch energies.
- DEAD! – Maenaz exclaimed, as the mist of the Utterdark Blast engulfed the frost giant from above, eliticing a hiss of pain before everything became silent.
The giant lay on the groud on its back, and Maenaz was just about to move beside it when a well-place strike of his hand sent him flying.
The bastard was alive.
- Don’t be so quick to declare yourself… A winner… Against an opponent… YOU KNOW NOTHING OF! – shouted the giant, as he summoned up small dosages of positive energy to regain his badly damaged health.
- I’m impressed, giant. Only one of the giantkin I fought could withstand this kind of attack, and he was the king of his tribe.
- If you could stand against a king of a tribe, then I understand how can you stand against me. But no spellcaster has an unlimited amount of energy, and I bet yours is about to run out.
- It seems my trick did not work on you. Very well, I’ll attempt it again, now when you’re weak, and then I’ll let you test just how much energy I have left.
The giant started to raise to full height when Maenaz cast another Curse of Despair. This time, the giant appeared well sapped of energy and will once the invocation was finished, so Maenaz concluded this time, it was fully effective. Then, the creature started running towards him, preparing a swing of its weapon as Maenaz raised a hand and prepared to fire a blast. The head of the Morningstar came down, aimed for Maenaz’s corpus, and just as it did, the warlock fired his eldritch energies straight into it. The giant exerted every bit of strength he had in his muscles – strength that was now limited by his opponents curse and the deadly power of his Utterdark blast - trying to break through the block that was formed by the ray. He held his weapon with both hands and pushed down with all its strength and mass – to no avail. The weapon was thrown away by the accumulated vibration and impact from struggling with the blast, and one of the last things the giant saw was the sword of his opponent flying towards his head. As Enserric broke into his skull, the giant started to fall onto his back, and Maenaz wasted no time to ensure this back would be nice and well cooked once the giant was dead. A wall of flames started to consume the giant as it emitted one last grunt of pain before passing away.
Maenaz waited for the flames to die out before pulling out his sword.
[“Wait. Didn’t I intend to avoid such flashy finishing moves?”]
….
A moment of silence…
- Oh, fuck this. I love dramatic finishers. This would’ve looked great on a painting or immortalized by magic in a scene that could be watched by generations to come.
[*I would’ve appreciated if you didn’t throw me around so much nor feed me the blood of every creature you encounter without any regard whatsoever to my tastes* - Enserric decided to complain - *But I do have to give it to you, these fights indeed inspire awe and a lot of other emotions. I just hope you don’t get killed due to your antics.*]
The warlock smirked as he walked to where the giant came from.
There was much work left to do.

Zerenas was summoned to Morax’s chamber for an audience. Apparently his old mentor needed something of him even though the fallen Deva recently completed his previous assignment. Still, it would be rude not to show up, and he’d probably end up doing Ultroloth’s bidding anyway. It wasn’t wise to refuse a member of the Nefarious… well, Five, counting Samael.
The chamber the ultroloth resided in was everything one could expect it to be – shady and creepy. Walls were decorated with a few skulls, funeral masks, and a single skeleton of a winged humanoid creature – apparently, most of those represented Morax’s most prized kills. The room’s floor was black and one could walk on it producing no sound almost effortlessly, although Zerenas knew that further down the line Morax had a special room where all sounds of breathing and movement were magically intensified for training purposes. This time around, however, the Yugoloth made no attempt to hide and was the one to speak first – if his mental messages could be reffered to as speech.
- Greetings, Zerenas. Thank you for arriving in such a short amount of time. You see, there is another project we need to put our efforts and intelligence into, one that may require lots of information gathering.
- Project? What kind of project?
- I’ve personally looked into the background of Maenaz and the woman he calls Aribeth. Apparently before she was killed, she deserted Neverwinter, betraying them in favor of a cult that followed an ancient Sarrukh queen that went by name of Morag. The reasons for her defection are unknown, but it appears Aribeth’s punishment was not proportionate to her fault in her defection, and certainly, Maenaz holds a grudge against this Sarrukh fraction and its cult as well as Neverwinter itself. The crux of the matter is this – our mission is to locate, by any means necessary, the souls of Morag’s cultists, especially those that were directly involved in spreading the Wailing Death plague. We can send devils to Fugue Plane for information or attempt to obtain it from seers and oracles, whether ones residing in the Outer Planes or the Prime Material.
- Excuse me, Praetor, but… Why are we supposed to do this?
Morax went silent for a moment, eyeing him with a chilly gaze, before he responded.
- Apparently the warlock said or did something that pleased Samael greatly, and now our Lords want to give him a special reward – the possibility to exact revenge upon his enemies in their *afterlife*.
- We’re supposed to run around the Planes, send our spies and track down oracles to get the mortal some birthday surprise gift? Surely you’re not just going to do this, master.
- This is Lord Samael’s *command*, Zerenas. Do you understand? You’re *ordered* to do this. There’s no negotiations, no doubts, no refusals. Surely you’re not going to tell Lord Samael you decided his wish sounded stupid and you have better things to do?
- I… No. Of course not.
- Then go and prepare to do as you’re told. First, start with your best spies on Toril. I’ll try to seek out possible methods of finding such a target in with our Outer Plane contacts. I suggest you work with maximum efficiency. This is not a pet project – Lord Samael expects results.
- Yes, Praetor Morax – Zerenas bowed slightly and walked out of the chamber, trying his best not to look to disrespectful.

But on the inside, the fallen deva was quite conflicted. He served Lord Samael for a long time now and he knew that serving him brought its rewards, but he rarely ever went out of his way to grant the wishes of his subjects. Yet now, he was more and more often doing just this with the human warlock – completely spoiling him instead of showing him his place in the line.
That seemed irrational to Zerenas. More so – frustrating. Annoying. Samael claimed that the mortal was more powerful than he, a former Deva, one that hunted creatures both in the Upper and the Lower Planes before being taught by one of the greatest assassins of Hades and Samael’s own prized servant. And the mortal was rewarded more than most faithful servants despite never truly swearing his allegiance or doing anything significant. And what’s worse, he was starting to be used as the man for the dirty jobs considering whatever rewards Lord Samael wanted to bestow upon the mortal. First, searching like crazy for an artifact that the warlock would have yet to be sent to retrieve and making sure that it will be prepared to be picked off by servants of Neverwinter and not any other city – now, searching for *souls* of the dead mortals that came from this guy’s world just so he could torture them a bit and then get bored with them. Moreover, for all Zerenas knew these souls might just be parts of a giant wall created by their God of Death now. And then, all this effort would be in vain.
Lord Samael should reconsider what he was doing. Otherwise, people who saw things the way he saw them would start reconsidering. And then, things could get bad. Very, very bad.



In the meantime, said warlock enjoyed slaughtering a bunch of walking corpses while getting deeper and deeper into the fortress of the Frostwind Virago. Touching the walls, they were decidedly getting colder and covered with something that was either thin ice or hoarfrost, so he deduced that he must be getting closer to where the witch actually is.

Entering the next chamber made him realize his mistake. He was only getting closer to the place where a bunch of not-so-gentle evil elemental creatures were. Immediately, he was struck by waves of unnatural coldness. He placed a wall of flames at their source before firing a cone of energy that struck the few nearby, now burning, Chraals down. Rushing forward, the human jumped over his own wall of flames, swinging Enserric and plunging it deep into the Chraal that was on his course.
[“I’m getting the hang of this…”]
He blasted the thing into little icy pieces as he turned to block yet another strike, proceeding into a flurry of swings and cuts that pushed the next Chraal over into a wall of flames that ended its existence.

Okay, he could kill them quickly and efficiently, but Maenaz suddenly realized that this wasn’t enough. There was a small army of Chraals in here, and he sensed something stronger and more sinister as well…
Maenaz needed more than to kill them quickly and efficiently – he needed something to immediately cut their numbers down, to slaughter them, to destroy enough Chraals right on the spot so he could fight the rest equally and with hope of victory.
Conjuring up two walls of fire at practically the same time would’ve seemed impressive to him a year and a half ago, but right now, it was just the start, just to stop the mass of opponents from moving. Energy flew throughout his entire body, a feeling he was familiar with, but as he tried to build it up and push himself to his limit, more chraals appeared from the sides. He fired a few quick blasts to take down two of them and turned to face others, but was surprised when he actually blocked a real sword.
So, the things could use weapons. Engaging a small group of creatures at once, he started taking them down one after the other, slowly but steadily and with little harm to himself. He expected them to be more powerful, to be honest, but if the witch was able to create so many of them thus far, he could recognize the threat they would possess to the overall human population.
However, he also had to recognize that the time his Walls of Perilous Flame were working was up. And he doubted the other Chraals would wait…
[“Fuck. If only I had a way to summon something… But I’m freaking blind, so no scroll will help now… What should I…”]

Before the warlock finished the thought, however, he was surprised as the chraals suddenly stopped attacking and moved away from him. The chraals on the other end of the chamber weren’t moving, either, and Maenaz couldn’t help but suspect something.

Then, the clicking as the footsteps of something large were echoing through the now nearly silent chamber. A shiver run down his spine as the chill became slightly greater. Yes, that was it. The greater threat that he managed to make out of the bunch of lesser chraals.
And the thing was apparently not only their leader – it wanted to fight him one on one, as well.

The leader of the chraals was a magnificent, if menacing, sight. Lines of light formed intricate patterns on his (its?) entire body, becoming as bright stars at its joints. The leader himself was even larger than the frost giant Maenaz just defeated – half a feet taller, he peaked at fifteen feet and six inches when fully straight, and was twice as massive. Its head formed long, curved spines that imitated some loud, unusual hairstyle and much of its body appeared to be covered by small plates ending with horns or ridges that gave it a menacing appearance. Its body was almost entirely bluish-black as the other Chraals, but its chest was covered with a white mass that appeared to be snow, with a red sigil on it that, on the other hand, seemed to be formed by blood that soaked into the snow. Also, the left eye of the Chraal glowed purple, unlike his right eye and eyes of all the other Chraals, which emited a cold, light blue color.

Maenaz, however, could not see those differences and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t particularly care. To him, he was just fighting another elemental beast – one almost twice as large as the others, but just a monster nevertheless.

There was a moment of silence on the part of both combatants, as if the leader tried to communicate something, but couldn’t. It apparently wasn’t a question of intelligence, even – they were intelligent enough to form a group with leadership and smart enough to obey a command that was somehow voiced by their leader to leave him. The chraals simply could not speak – but they could understand. Maenaz somehow sensed that the chraal leader wasn’t going to negotiate anything, so he was pretty much sure of what the beast would say if it could.
- Yes, yes, I get it. One on one, just you and me. Oh, and I’m going to die, am I not? Fine, now that we have this out of the way, show me what it takes to lead a bunch of ugly guys made of ice.
The Chraal had something in its hand, Maenaz was sure of it, but for now, it attempted to start the attack with its claws. The warlock, however, was the fastest thing in miles and it proved true in this instance as well. He was surprised that the creature’s speed and movement coordination was about as good as its lesser subjects, but as the leader it was natural it would be overall superior in most aspects and at least equal in others.

He tried to pierce through the being’s icy hide with Enserric, but the blade was repelled, leaving just a small scratch. The Chraal turned, backhanding the warlock away before almost kneeling and releasing its icy breath at the human. Even that was stronger than the attack of the average Chraal, but by a lesser amount than Maenaz had anticipated. As the waves of cold passed, he already had his own blast aimed and charged, hitting just a bit below his intended target – instead of the head, he got the short neck and upper torso.
The Chraal could withstand the attack without losing its balance, and finally did what was expected of him, charging at the warlock and swinging its weapon – an axe that definitely couldn’t be wielded by any human, but for this elemental creature it was more like a hand-axe.
Maenaz formed a wall of flames immediately under the creature and prepared to fire his blast.
The creature’s body was suddenly surrounded by moving rays of light in different color, forming some sort of a chaotic shield. The shield repelled the blast. White, silver, azure, blue, teal… Those weren’t the most unusual colors at all. Only Maenaz couldn’t believe what was going on right before his eyes. This couldn’t be what it appeared to be.

The beast charged and swung its axe down at the warlock, only to have him dodge and finally ram through the icy armor by swinging Enserric with both hands. The Chraal howled an tried to grab him, but was a moment too slow. Maenaz just fired a cone of acid to ensure it hit and got into the cracked part of armor as well.
The chraal followed his move with another application of its breath weapon, and then, Maenaz finally got a taste of its claws as it quickly followed up its attack with another.
Maenaz fired a Beshadowed Blast at the Chraal close-range, proceeding to cut him repeatedly and then move away from the creature. Once the beast regained its sight, it finally did something that confirmed Maenaz’s suspicion.
A dark ray travelled up from the beast’s claws to the warlock’s body, his sense informing him about it just a moment too late, and then, he felt his energy and ability to move quickly sapped away, leaving him paralyzed for a moment. When the creature attacked, he was far too slow.

He used the Draining modification of an Eldritch Blast in the earlier parts of his carrier, so he knew how it worked. That fact, however, did not save him from being cleaved by a giant, cold-infused axe that the beast was using.
Entropic Shield. Draining Blast. He was fighting a Chraal that was twice as big as others…
And was also a warlock.

He landed further down the ground, clutching his now bleeding and numb side, trying to make out exactly what to do with the freaking fact that his opponent had at least some of his skills and the kind of physical might that he could never possess.
Well, the answer was, in fact, very simple.
[“Just don’t let him use it. Go all out and kick his butt while you can”].

A strange symbol flashed on Maenaz’s forehead as he lifted himself off the ground. A dark mist covered the area around the Chraal, the Utterdark blast attempting to drain its life force. Then, Maenaz darted forward, speed regained, Enserric poised to strike, but when the power of his attack cleared, he stopped.
The beast was not as hurt as it should be. A strange emanation from its chest… The blood sign was probably glowing. The creature had a strange bond with negative energy that made his attack less effective than it should be… And allowed the beast to charge the next one.
Its claws reached him. They raked his flash, pumped coldness into him, poured bits of negative energy the Chraal seemed to somehow channel…
[“Minor setback”]

Describing what happened next would be like trying to describe what happens in the center of a tempest or the heart of a cyclone. A barrage of cuts – at least ten swings with Enserric, and one blast after the other, over a five as well. The creature tried to attack him, swing its axe at him, blast him again, even – to no avail. After the last blast, which came as Maenaz jumped and sky-rocketed himself backwards with the ray, it could not help but fall onto the ground. Maenaz, on the other hand, was just reinvigorated by the draining powers of Enserric.
He was beyond words now, not really even caring whether one of the beasts attack would catch him or not. He was just too sure the beast couldn’t take the damage he could leash out when at full throttle. Running straight towards the beast, he dodged the claw attack and rammed Enserric inside its icy hide straight to the hilt. He then slowly twisted it inside, skewering the ice and whatever else formed the inside of the beast slowly, causing it to hiss in pain. Putting his feet on the creature, Maenaz started to pull the sword out, forcing it bit and bit. The Chraal did not miss its chance, and its strike this time really got Maenaz – apparently, it also possessed the ability to use Hideous Blow to channel its Eldritch Blast into a physical attack. It was claw and chill and the slowing, draining blast all at once, but the warlock was fully prepared this time around, even though he had to admit how powerful the attack was.

He reaped his own sword out of the hole that was now formed, and placed his hand on it instead. He could not help but grin as he poured the creature’s insides full of potent acid. The beast just roared as it was filled with something so murderous and in a way that would’ve probably left anything with a pulse dead.

Maenaz leaped away to avoid the swing of its axe, and immediately brought down an Eldritch Doom to try and finish the creature off. The combo left the Chraal with its armor cracked, viscous liquid pouring out of it, color changed, and an expression of perpetual anger and agony painted on its “face”.


The creature would not try to strike him down with its Eldritch Blast nor use any invocation. The state of its body and mind were too ruined for that. No, the creature would finally use what weapon it had from its own original powers, and not what it gained through whatever machinations or learning causing it to become a Warlock.
Its anger. Rage that was too powerful and too primal to be anything other than that associated with berserk-style fighting.
The creature was upon him, the attacks gaining velocity and ferocity that made them more and more difficult to predict, counter, dodge, or block.

A blast straight to the chest or a couple of cuts meant nothing to the enraged Chraal. The creature was so angry it had little concern for its own pain. It just cared about hitting more and hitting harder. Relentless attacks finally captured Maenaz who could only withstand the beast’s fury so much. A claw to the shoulder and an axe to the chest finally sent him into his own agonizing experience. Dodging another deadly attack meant little if the creature could keep up this tempo. Kicking him away, the Chraal resorted to its breath weapon one last time, as the warlock landed and quickly grabbed a healing potion to save himself from having to fight with severe damage.
Then, he had to block another strike of that axe, one which rammed him into the ground.
[“My, my. It appears I’ve developed some sort of superiority complex. Again, why was I thinking I can just kill him even blind and not in my best shape? Simply because if I fight at my best this would be almost easy?”]

Firing a blast that forced the Chraal a bit away from him, Maenaz knew what exactly to do.
[“Just fight your best, you damn warlock. What’s stopping you? Your eyes? You never saw Nasher was a bastard until you had the knowledge forced upon you. You never realized you loved Aribeth until the last moment. Why worry about such a petty thing as eyesight now? Just go with the flow. As you always did. It may not be the same as you were before, but it’ll work. How often did it fail? Why should it fail against a pitiful creature like this?”]

The swing of the axe. How convienient. Maenaz jumped onto the blade, and then, further upwards. Enserric came down to be thrust into the icy beast, and as it penetrated its hide, flames erupted under the pair. As the Chraal hissed, Maenaz lifted himself upwards on his sword as his right hand charged up a mighty blast – one he immediately after rammed into the Chraal. The creature couldn’t resist as the might of the ray pushed it down into the wall of flames. Maenaz flipped over and pulled his sword out immediately. The Chraal writhed on the ground with pain. It cried out, and, finally, the other chraals moved.
[“Figures. Things, creatures like those may try to show off, but there’s no real honor in their actions. Not even real pride.”]


Letting the Chraal lie down for a time, he returned to what he planned to do with the smaller chraals before their leader intervened.
Energy travelling through his body. Charging up, starting to pulse inside him as it reached a level where it actually started to harm the body of its own user… And then, it came. Twin Eldritch Dooms destroying an entire bunch of charging chraals at once.

He turned away to face the leader, that tried to get back on his feet after his latest attack.
- Pointless, dear Iceman, pointless. Just let me show your subordinates who is the real power here. I’ll commend you on your troublesomeness, however. Farewell in whatever afterlife you’ll get.

Blind or not, he just wouldn’t miss from here. The blast was quick, well-aimed, and powerful. The Chraal tried to counter with an Eldritch Blast of his own, the two rays clashing mid-air, but it was clear which one was powerful. The elemental fell on the ground, its form broken and cracked, filled with holes from all the blasts and sword attacks it suffered. Its vital energy could take no more punishment, and finally gave way as the creature fell to the ground, dead in probably every sense of the word.

Maenaz turned to the chraals. They ceased to charge, and just stared. It took some time for this to get into their heads, apparently. Maenaz just moved forward, quickly drinking another potion as the icy elementals started to move away from him, either afraid or filled with respect, allowing him to go further into the fortress.

Moving past a large pool of water, and entering the deepest chamber, he whistled.
- They even made this place extent into a place different than our own world? Honestly, that seems like overdoing it a bit.

Just above the ground, an ellipse-shaped thing hovered in air, consisting solely of an outer ring of azure and sliver light and an inner sphere of utter darkness. A portal.
As Maenaz prepared to enter it, he failed to notice two things.
First, the chraal leader never exploded like the other chraals did after it fell.
Second, something else observed his final show of power. A small thing, especially compared to the Chraals, he might have not noticed even if he had sight. The thing followed him and went into the pool of water and, as he walked through the portal, bloodthirsty eyes observed his back, watching him to the very last moment until he disappeared, before the creature slowly crawled out of the water and got on its way to follow the warlock.



Maenaz had no sight, so he couldn’t actually identify the place he was in. It was probably morally neutral – at least it felt like it. That narrowed it down to the Inner Planes, the Outlands, Mechanus, Limbo, the Astral Plane and the Shadow Plane. Not being buried alive and not being scorched or burned to ash made the planes of Earth and Fire unlikely.

Perhaps he’d eventually learn where he exactly was, but it was of secondary importance. He was here to finish the Virago off. He re-activated his Dark Foresight, which gone off moments after he finished the Chraal Leader. The entire place pulsed with a hidden, subtle aura of danger and distress, but he couldn’t sense the Virago. He moved forward, but sensed immediate danger from the back.

He got hit by a small, round, hard object at the shoulder and almost felt right falling, a cracking sound coming from the bones underneath. Was something broken or damaged?
Maenaz clutched his arm. He never fought it could hurt so much, but to him, it was obvious what the attack was – he was hit by a rock shot from a sling. A magical rock, but just a small rock nevertheless.
Before he managed to recuperate, the shooter was already upon him, this time with far different intention. He was about to be cut up into little pieces.
Dodging the two quick attacks after the first were a pain in the ass. His opponent apparently fought with a scythe, but the attacks were unnaturally fast and came from a lower altitude than normal scythe attacks. He quickly fired a blast at the creature that was attacked him, yet it evaded easily and finally reached him with its scythe. It proceeded to try and chop off his head, but he dodged at the last moment. He sprayed a cone of acid at his opponent but it was easily dodged almost in its entirety. He placed a wall of fire between himself and his opponent, and that stopped the assault for a moment.
- What the hell are you? – The warlock couldn’t help but ask. All of the creature’s attacks suggested both great agility and physical strength, despite the way it attacked hinting at actually small posture.
- Estarith Bloodstream, a Redcap from the Nether Mountains and the greatest ally and champion of the lady of this castle. You, on the other hand, are just a bag of blood I’ll enjoy painting with.
- Disturbed, that’s what you are. And stupid. I’ll kill you in a moment.
- Wrong.
The creature moved with great speed through the slowly dissipating wall of fire and attack while moving past him. He never thought a strike by scythe on the run could be so fast or so powerful. He had no time to ponder on this, however, as the smaller creature could stop as fast as it moved and prepared for a deadly strike to his back. He ducked and turned, but it already managed to shift the scythe in its hands and attack from the other side. Maenaz blocked, but was thrown onto the ground by the power of the strike.
He was amazed. The Chraal leader, who was three or four times as big as this creature, smaller than the warlock himself, seemed only a bit stronger when he attacked.
It attacked from above, so Maenaz decided it was the time for a bit of acrobatics. He twisted, stood on his hands and kicked the creature in the head from above as its scythe hit the ground next to him. Moments later, the little man was on fire, and as Maenaz made a flip to get back onto his legs, he fired a blast straight into him.
The creature was furious, and it jumped right at him only to be stabbed by Enserric… That only got as deep as a dagger. The apparent humanoid had skin as hard as bone and muscles so strong and resistant to slicing or piercing that they may put the frost giant Maenaz defeated on the same day to shame.
It responded by plunging the blade of its scythe into his side as it jumped and headbutted him, causing the warlock to once again fall onto the ground.
- How the hell have you grown so strong?
- Told you , dumb bloodbag, I’m a Redcap. We grow stronger the more we kill. Far more so than any other creature. Now, give me the pleasure of seeing you die.

Maenaz had trouble keeping up with another series of strikes from the so-called Redcap. As a matter of fact, he was in a heavily defensive position, and his rare counters seemed clumsy compared to the smaller creature’s overall movement coordination and great dexterity.

As he, however, dodged the being’s latest attack, he kicked its hands before it managed to switch the way it handled its weapon to continue striking, grabbed the creature’s head and lifter it off the ground. He then started pouring acid straight from his hand onto the Redcap’s head as the inhuman Estarith screamed in pain. Twisting his body and striking Maenaz’s knee with the handle of his large scythe (large for such a size, anyway) the creature managed to release itself from the deadly grip, only to be slashed into the side with Enserric as it fell. Maenaz immediately turned away from it and started running, charging up his energy as he did so. Estarith went into pursuit, and it was obvious he may eventually catch up, as even running full-speed Maenaz was slightly slower than him.
Having readied the attack, however, Maenaz turned and brought down the Eldritch Doom, striking the charging Redcap flawlessly.
Before the attack even cleared and moment after it struck, he himself was slashed by the scythe. Angry at the outcome, as he expected it to be a finisher, Maenaz slashed his opponent on the length of his entire body, before trying to kick him away into the wall of flames he formed just behind him. The smaller man easily kept standing on his feet, so the warlock instead blinded him with a Beshadowed Blast just as he was again struck by the scythe. Maenaz then went into a flurry of blows before blasting the Redcap and pushing him through his wall onto the area behind it.
The Redcap apparently coughed up and spit out blood before starting to speak.
- Great reflexes, good endurance, frightening special powers. I haven’t met anybody who could dish out this damage to me in a long, long time. They usually die before they can if they’re mages or never manage to keep up with me long enough if they try to do it with a sword. You deserve a name, Bloodbag.
- Maenaz, not Bloodbag. I take it you’re calling me this because my blood is somewhat of use to you?
- Oh, look, you’re smart one, too. Indeed, we Redcaps gain strength thanks to blood of out opponents… Not only strength. We advance and increase all our physical traits thanks to the quality and quantity of blood we get from our opponents. We begin the process from a young age and it often takes years. By redcap standards, I’m ancient, yet I’ve still not finished the process of growing thanks to the blood of others. However, if I were to absorb the essence of someone like you… It might just be enough.
- First, you’d have to kill me. And you should know by now that it will not be so easy.
- It will. Did you really think our Lady would travel here, to the Shadow Plane alone, without any measure of protection?

Suddenly, two more warnings about danger were relayed to him through his Dark Foresight, and he decided not to wait any longer. The pillar of pale green light was behind the Redcap for a longer moment already without him noticing. Now, the associated acidic version of Eldritch Doom was fired immediately after Maenaz heard the sound of a large mass of ice cracking.


He turned to the freshly-released two attackers and put up walls of flames below them. There was no sound of burning nor noises of pain, only those of some flames being extinguished by small amounts of water.
It appeared his opponents were made of ice… But no, the feeling they gave off seemed more undead than elemental… Corpses encased in ice?

The sound as they moved suggested they were indeed massive and large, and Maenaz fired a blast at one of them immediately. Resistant enough to take that, too…
Then, a sudden explosion inside his sixth sense, suggesting mortal danger.
He was slashed throughout his entire body from the back, and he couldn’t hold in a groan of pain. He made a fatal mistake, a miscalculation that might cost him the victory in his battle.
He assumed the last Vitriolic Blast against the redcap was enough to finish him off. Now he was sure. It did not come even CLOSE to finishing him off. As dexterous and physically powerful as the creature was, its constitution and endurance appeared to be even more unnatural. He fell to one knee, and the redcap grabbed him by the neck.
- You really thought that was enough to take out a fey as powerful as I? You’d have died seconds after coming close to our Lady! You’re just a piece of shit compared to us! I wish I could let these Entombed simply make you one of them, but then, I couldn’t absorb your blood.
The Redcap knee-kicked him into his spine and then threw him against the two creatures he referred to as “entombed”. Maenaz immediately tried to get up, but was smashed with a hard, cold fist that radiated elemental energy. His body was numbed as it flew a feet or two away.
Maenaz created a wall of flames under the offender, but it just run straight at him, and he barely managed to dodge the next strike in the last moment. Then, he rammed Enserric into the ice that covered the body hidden within up to the hilt, twisted it, and pulled it out before firing an Eldritch Blast into the crack. He heard the ice crumble as one of the dangers detected by his sense started to disappear.

The Redcap was fast approaching as Maenaz faced him and the second Entombed, a new vitality suddenly filling him as he activated his regeneration. He thrust Enserric into the ground before using him as leverage to kick the running Redcap away, and after landing on the ground, he immediately followed it by firing four blasts – two into the Redcap and two into the Entombed. He grabbed Enserric both handed and smashed it against the ice of the second Undead, but this time, couldn’t get inside. The Entombed punched him away, but straight in the direction where he wanted to move. The Redcap and the Entombed now charged him both, and they were bound to be close to each other for one moment.
Maenaz seized this moment just as Beshadowed Doom struck the ground right when the pair was nearly touching.

And when the blast cleared, Maenaz quickly pulled out a single bottle and drunk what it contained. Blindness slowly left the eyes of the fey and he could only watch as his opponent appeared to fade. Before he completely disappeared, Maenaz moved to the side, so the Redcap charged there and attempted to slash his opponent, but the warlock was apparently only fooling him.
- A potion of invisibility? You cowardly bastard?
- Cowardly bastard? In case you failed to notice, I could not see you from the very moment our fight started. I haven’t used any of those in years, but I always carry two or three around out of habit. Now that I can’t use scrolls, I’ve decided I’ll get some other help.
- I’ll kill you! This is it, I’m not going to waste a single moment anymore! ! You’re going down! Strike your pathetic excuse for an attack and after that, I’m going to make you scream in agony!
- Pathetic excuse for an attack? Finishing ME off!? You fool. Every moment I spend invisible, my wounds are closing up and my body is regaining strength. And my pathetic excuse for an attack may as well be the last you’ll see.

The redcap finally saw Maenaz just before the Utterdark Blast engulfed him, large mass of dark mist descending on him from above.
Even before the attack cleared, Maenaz already new what to do, firing a blast from each hand and striking flawlessly, the energy finally sending the Redcap down, if only for a moment.
- That was really something. I barely resisted the life-draining aspect of your attack… And yet still, it is such a far cry from truly defeating me…
- Oh, you think I’ve hit some sort of a limit, a barrier I’ve cannot overcome, and this blast was my last resort? So cute. People died because of that mistake.
- I told you I’d make a painting with your blood. I intend to do it. Because, you see, there are still two assets of mine you haven’t seen. One, I’ve activated when you were invisible. Now, it’s time to get you all nice and frozen.
The redcap swung its scythe once as it suddenly covered with a thin layer of ice, and the blade started to emit a soft, icy glow. Then, the fey attacked.
The warlock was quickly pushed into a heavily defensive position, his abilities unable to keep up with the sheer speed and power of his opponent. He now fully recognized that truth – compared to his physical fitness, Estarith’s actual skill with his scythe was only second-rate. Maybe if he somehow lessened that massive physical difference between himself and the four feet and one or two inches tall man, he’d be more able to keep up. It was ridiculous that he even had to make up for any disadvantages against such a midget, however.
After being almost run through with the now icy blade, the warlock once again fired a Beshadowing Blast straight into his opponents face. This time, however, Estarith resisted and continued slashing at him with psychotic glee, chuckling and giggling whenever he drew blood.

To be honest, Maenaz was sick of this fight. A little thing like this couldn’t be so strong or so fast, not to mention having a godlike endurance.

A green pillar of light appeared behind the attacking fey, and Maenaz only attempted to jump out of the range at the last moment. Still, the fey was hit head-on, and the warlock only just barely, which combined with his resistance to acid made the strategy seem less suicidal. He jumped onto a nearby rock as he mentally surrounded the redcap with fire from three sides.
He pulled out a few bottles and drunk them one by one. Bull’s Strength, Bear’s Endurance, those sorts of things. Now he should be a bit closer physically to his opponent. Now, only the matter of bringing him the most pain possible remained.
- Enserric?
[*Yes, warlock?*]
- I’m guessing you’re sick and tired of this old guy’s blood already, aren’t you?
[*Indeed I am. What are you up to?*]
- Remember when you spoke to me about how we can feed the blade my own life energy and it could temporarily get stronger? I want you to do that now. I need this little idiot down fast. My regeneration won’t last forever, and your life force draining can only do so much.
[*Let’s do it, then. How much energy would you like me to drain?*]
- A considerable amount. Just be smart about it.
[*Fine. Get ready…*]
Maenaz felt all the additional energy from the Bear’s Endurance potion leave him… Which was just what he calculated. Now, all he needed to do was to wait for this idiot to charge at him.
Which of course the little fey did. He apparently liked to attack while running.

This time, however, Maenaz managed to block the strike, kick the charging opponent to the back of the head and blast him onto the ground. As Estarith got up, the warlock was alredy upon him, slashing and hacking away, his strikes now more accurate and faster than before, not to mention the additional attack power of Bull’s Strength and his life-force-enhanced Enserric being able to penetrate even somehow increased endurance of the redcap’s body.

The fey swung his scythe only for it to be dodged. As he shifted it in his hands to repeat the strike, Maenaz pulled his blade back deep, and bended over in both his back and knees. It was now a contest of speed between the two. Maenaz had no equal back in the Prime Material part of the fortress, but he had to acknowledge that here, the Redcap was faster. Even with the advantage of having just dodged a single attack, the warlock couldn’t hope to compete with the fey’s unnatural celerity.
Unless he was smart about it.
The Redcap expected an attack, but Maenaz instead jumped backwards gracefully, the scythe missing him by mere inches, and propelled himself back forward, realizing his original intent – to stab the smaller fey from below and raise it on his blade, since the fey’s lesser posture made him light even though his mass consisted mostly of muscle.
The redcap tried to move, but despite being slower than his opponent, Maenaz could still do what he intended to with the speed unlike any opponent Estarith ever met. His palm darted to the redcap’s head, right over his right eye, before releasing a strongly-charged Vitriolic Blast straight into the eyeball. The redcap twitched and screamed in pain, yet, it was no human, so Maenaz doubted the attack would be enough to kill it. Still, half of objective 1 was accomplished, so he pulled the smaller man off his blade only to kick him away before he fell onto the ground.
The symbol once again flashed on the Warlock’s forehead as a dark mist filled with red starts came down to try and consume the bloodthirsty Fey’s very life.

The small redcap was only barely able to lift himself off the ground. The acidic blast took his eye and the pain was still unbearable. The utterdark blast, on the other hand, this time succeeded in draining away his essence, the agony of the previous attack too much for him to try and resist the next one. The warlock had no intention of letting him live, too, and proceeded to put him on fire and then start slashing around with his enchanted blade. Estarith managed a single counter and had the human shout out in pain, and he certainly hoped his opponent was nearing his limits. He himself was only brought so close to death when he was young and weak. Now, he was invincible. He attained strength and agility almost the same as the few greatest Redcaps in history, and his endurance was probably equal to theirs. During his long life, he even visited the demon-blooded elves, the Fey’ri, to learn more about their fighting techniques in exchange for favors. When he drained the blood of an adult, but still quite young White Dragon, he gained new potential that Arianrhod saw in him and helped him realize. He was so powerful, so incredibly strong, and in front of him was now the greatest opponent he had ever faced. There was no doubt about it – if this bloodbag wasn’t blind, they’d probably kill each other. But he was, and Estarith would win simply because his natural endurance was close to immortality – at least from his point of view. The power in blood of this human must be magnificent, enough to bring him to the final level of Redcap growth, and once it did, Estarith Bloodstream would join the legendary Redcaps that were a real menace to this world, hated and feared by some races as much as the greatest beasts and fiends that could live in Toril under normal circumstances.
If he continued to improve, he may even become the greatest of them. This was his chance, his moment, and he had to seize it.
The opportunity to get a shot at attaining greatness no one of his race ever has blinded Estarith both figuratively and, later, literally. Maenaz struck with his blade, a thrust, aimed for the fey’s neck apparently. Estarith so wanted the effort to go in vain, so wanted to have his opponent in a more or less defenseless position where he could strike with all his inhuman strength that he forgot a very important thing. The real danger wasn’t the warlock’s left hand – it was his right. As he dodged easily, he failed to notice lack of real power and killing intent behind the sword strike, the easiness with which it could be withdrawn – and was. It was the warlock’s right hand now that headed for his head. The redcap managed to close his right eyelid and the resistance of both his skin and the eyeball itself managed to easily resist the part of the attack that only used the hand. It was what came a moment before that spelled the redcap’s doom. Maenaz fired a blast from his extended hand, the power of which vibrated through the redcap’s head, neck and entire spine as his last, left eye was evaporated by the eldritch energy. The additional brain trauma caused the redcap to be paralyzed for a moment and that was just the moment Maenaz needed to make a full change in the tide of battle, repeated slashes breaking through the fey’s non-existent defense as Enserric sapped on the redcap’s life force.
Estarith’s body was basically one big wound now, a wound inside of which Maenaz poured more acid as if to insult him more. The redcap was lying on the floor, trying to get up.
- This is the end, Estarith Bloodstream. In a fight between two cripples, you don’t stand a chance against me.
- Maybe you think your years of experience will make you stronger than me, but do not think that I’ve never…
- Years? I’ve only been blind for a week or so. Don’t flatter yourself thinking you could stand up to me for so long if I really had years to adapt to this situation.
- A…. A week?
- Ekhem, how was it? Die bitch, die, I want to paint the walls with your blood.
Estarith heard the warlock running and he timed his slash well, but Maenaz jumped over the poor redcap and sent an Eldritch Blast into his back that made him completely lose his balance. Maenaz approached the lying fey rapidly and as flames engulfed Estarith’s body, stabbed him through the back with Enserric, then pulled it out and fired another blast. The redcap managed to roll away however, and clumsily get back on his feet.
- I admire your will to fight and your persistence, redcap, but no amount of vitality can keep you alive. You must know its over.
- It… isn’t over… It’s never over! I am going to become the greatest of my race! When your blood is mine, I could…
- You’re a fool. I fought opponents far more powerful than you and they all died. Face it. You were a great challenge, I admit. But it was only because I am far from the peak of my abilities. If we met when I still had my sight, you’d have died long before now.
- I refuse to believe this!
Maenaz fired the Utterdark Blast at the blinded fey. He followed it with another. The redcap had greater and greater problems at getting up.
- Well, if you don’t believe in dying, I shall redeem you to the faith.

Enserric started to pulse with a dark red glow, before Maenaz powered up the spell, his sword firing up with blood-colored flames that were not truly fire, but pure Duskblade magic.
His opponent, on the other hand, once again activated his element-based abilities that made Maenaz curious. He never saw anybody use such skills, but Estarith clearly had powers based on either water or ice [Or both, depending on what was counted] that did not likely come from the Material Plane – otherwise, chance was that Maenaz would already meet someone with such skills. And it was despite the fact that his opponent was clearly a close-combat warrior type that should not be able to connect to the Planes by himself.
Maenaz couldn’t see this, but Estarith’s skin immediately got wet all over and then covered by a thin layer of highly-pressured water that helped him resist all physical attacks save for piercing ones. His weapon once against burst with the energy of frost, and he was ready for the final showdown. The pair run at each other, Estarith’s weapon high, aimed for the Warlock’s head, as they got closer and closer to one another. It would be a contest of endurance, the Redcap believed, the trail of which one of them could withstand the other’s attack. He was in worse shape than his opponent but could, certainly, believe in his inhuman vitality.
But he was wrong. Maenaz never intended the end of this fight to be dramatic test of whom will be the last man standing, even though he knew he’d be.
On full run, he purposely took his feet off the ground and slid on his backside, under his opponents strike, towards the fey just close enough that he could stab him through the heart. The magical energy of his spell released itself at once, and Estarith could no longer stand the trauma.
- You… fucking bastard… I hope Arianrhod freezes you to death… Slowly…
- Don’t worry. I’ll be sending your bitch to you in no time at all.

Maenaz was a bit shocked when instead of all the weight of the fey pushing on him and so getting relatively heavier, the redcap was starting to get lighter. Truth was, even his blade, still stuck inside his opponent, appeared to start gaining freedom of movement from nowhere.
Estarith was dissipating.
In a few moments, the weight pressed against his sword disappeared completely, and something small fell onto his abdomen.
Maenaz grabbed it and examined.
- A… tooth. He died, and all that remained behind was… a tooth.
He gulped down a healing potion and took the tooth as a trophy. Bad habit, but still, the guy was tough as nails.

He then moved forward, his dissipating regeneration healing the last wounds to his body. This ability, combined with his Ring of Power and Enserric’s vampire-like powers made him incredibly durable in combat for a warlock, not to mention that his own vitality was nothing to be ashamed of.
He reinforced his Dark Foresight which could now detect the Frostwind Virago. He went down the stairs that did not exist in the material version of this fortress and broke through the door that separated him from his target.

He stood struck for a moment. He did not remember any part of this place being *this* cold. There was even snow on the floor, and the Virago seemed to radiate a chill that seeped deep into both body and mind. Moreover, this one also had a shade wrapped up about her – for some reason, Maenaz couldn’t perceive the being as anything but female, despite the fact that he didn’t knew shit about how these “viragos” reproduced. Maenaz had a feeling that if he could see, he’d see something attractive, charming, despite this woman definitely being evil, cold both in heart and in body as well as having dabbled in the art of necromancy. The woman spoke, her voice but a chill whisper in the large chamber.
- I am Arianrhod. You battled my champion Estarith and you defeated him. So… Unexpected. You must not be from around here. I was pretty sure he was the most powerful creature other than me in these parts, ever since I’ve helped him become an Elemental Warrior. What is your purpose here, human? And what happened to my forces and my other lieutenants?
- I killed every being that stood in my way. I assume the strongest, a frost giant and a menstrual Chraal, were your “other lieutenants”.
- That is correct, but I think you’re overstating things. You haven’t seen all I’ve done. Y
- I’ve killed all who tried to stop me. I don’t care. Soon, you’re going to be dead anyway.
- You appear to misunderstand something terribly. Estarith’s physical power was immense, that is true. But his race is by their very nature far below mine in terms of both power and intellect. The fact that you could match him does not mean you can match me.
- I’ve killed a woman who claimed to be god-like in her own domain she herself created. I’ve killed three dragons so far and defeated one more. I find myself confident that I can take you on.
- Then you’re wrong. Tell me, why have you come here? Do you have any interest in killing me? I’d like to know reason why a warm-blooded mammal that was able to slaughter my servants would try to put himself at mercy of all the powers of winter, not to mention my necromantic abilities.
- An exchange of favors, one might say. I kill you, someone I want dead will die. Though, it’s a bit more complicated than that.
- I see. It’s a pity you’re just a human. Your bodies are frail, they wither from the touch of the winter. If you were something different, something more, we’d have more room to… negotiate. The best I can accomplish with you, however, is turning you into an undead. Which I plan to do, unless your body will be too massacred afterwards.
- I’ve never intended to negotiate with you, anyways. I hope that Hell is cold enough for you.
Maenaz was faster, as usual, but it appeared that this time it was only so because the Virago did not intend to attack first. With practiced ease, she dodged his eldritch blast and answered with an attack of her own, conjuring up a sphere that appeared to be a mix of ice, water and pure cold energy.
As the sphere started to roll towards him Maenaz immediately fired another blast, causing it to dissipate and rushing forwards to the Virago. He thought she was the spellcaster-type and was not dangerous in close quarters… A foolish way of thinking as it turned out.
Maenaz smashed Enserric into the Virago. She was hit and got hurt, sure, but it appeared she was far less… delicate than he’d have thought. Moreover, he could feel bursts of cold and negative energy as she leaned in to touch him.
He felt a sudden chill and numbing, pain coming soon afterwards as if part of his flesh was frozen solid and then started to emit negative energy into other parts of him. Maenaz jumped away from the woman, but only to find himself standing in an area that activated his sense of danger, and he felt negative energy seeping into his veins and trying to drain their blood. He withstood, but knew he had to move.
- The touch of a Frostwind Virago is dangerous in and of itself, human. Adding to it the power one can gain only from studying necromancy deep with all necessary focus, the Charnel Touch, trying to kill me by getting close is suicidal.
- Very well. Then, we’ll try from a greater distance.

Maenaz fired a blast of acid and intended to follow it with another, but the woman already seemed to take some protective measure – he believed she cast a Protection from Elements spell – and as such, continued attack in that way was unwise. He jumped out of her strange area of negative energy and prepared to bring down Eldritch Doom, when suddenly, he felt her materialize a bit of her life force outside her body. Then, he felt the exact same thing as when she touched him, and whimpered in pain.
- And for smart boys who try to keep their distance, I channel my touch through the Spectral Hand. I hope you’re enjoying my attention?
Power surged from him as he placed a wall of fire under her before bringing down Eldritch Doom.
- I’ll kill you, you bitch.
- You’re so very, very rude. I was just trying to make you used to the cold.
- Stop being a smart-ass and fight!
He fired a Beshadowed Blast at her to make sure she wouldn’t counter before rushing straight at the Virago and trying to cut her down. Suddenly, the icy shards from around her started to levitate and then to move at high speed, cutting up his skin as he charged straight through to slash her repeatedly.
She reached out to touch him again but he was too fast this time, twisting his body and sending a powerful blast straight into her stomach. He then used his leg to put her down onto the ground and set her ablaze again with his wall of flames.
- You appear to be under the impression that I share the many weaknesses of my subjects… I do not. Your fire does not make any more damage to me than it would to you.
- You… You’re bluffing!
- Oh, go ahead, put me on fire again and again. I like to think I’m too cool for that to work.
The bitch was starting to get on his nerves. He consumed her protective spell and brought down Vitriolic Doom.

- Ouch. That one hurt.
- I’ll KILL you. You’re going down.
- You have a lot of anger and problems with managing it. Here, let me help.
Suddenly, Maenaz was encased in snow and shards of ice that immediately started lowering his own temperature. Yet another spell, it seemed, and by now Maenaz was sure they were druidic in nature.
As his Rakshasa contact said. Druidism and necromancy, a dangerous combination.
He needed to kill her and be quick about it.

Mighty energies once again flew throughout his body as he shook the warmth-draining coat off himself and brought down Eldritch Doom, followed by a Beshadowed version of it. He could feel his bones and tendons ache from being overcharged with surging eldritch power.
- You… fucking bastard… Did you really think you can defeat me? YOU THOUGHT YOU CAN DEFEAT ME?! Attack, my slave! Tear him from limb to limb!

Ground shook under Maenaz and he realized this was not going to be a one on one battle at all.


Moving below the Nightshade’s massive body Xardas immediately fired another Heal straight into his opponent just as his sword stabbed it into the head. Xardas turned and started to run, and stopped the beast from following immediately by mentally splitting his sword into shards that started tearing the creature’s head apart. The creature fired a blast after him, but Xardas pirouetted and blocked the attack with the aid of his Storm Avatar-charged hand.
Incredible ability, it was.
Another spell was already prepared for the moment when the nightshade approached him, and brought down a Firestorm to cook the undead creature. It still refused to give up and struck with its sting, but Xardas was already moving away, not to mention he used one of his spiritual abilities to further protect himself. Now, he stood a good distance away from the Nightshade and started to prepare his final attack just as his Blade Storm receded and the Silver Sword of Gith re-assembled and hit the ground. The beast moved straight at him, maw opened, as silver and white rays encircled his body. As it prepared to swallow him whole once again, Xardas razed it with the Moonfire, straight into its throat. Its body shook violently as it moved forward by sheer velocity, darkness that made up the creature’s body partially evaporating and changing into a thick black smoke that tainted the air.
Moments later, Xardas found himself standing inside the mouth of a now-dead Lord of Southern Shadow Undrentide.
The city was free at last. Or, free from its so-called Lords. It would still take time to shift it to worship Selune and become her outpost in the Shadow Plane, but it was closer to completion than ever.
And it cost him almost every ounce of his power.
Xardas crawled away from the undead monster and closed his eyes. Before, he felt slight changes in the plane’s aura, almost as if something important happened in the distance. He suspected a spirit might have entered the Shadow Plane, and now focused on what was happening.

Something was, indeed, happening north and west of where he was. The more he focused, the further he could reach…
Then, the shock.
Xardas opened his eyes and looked northwest, still feeling the incredible waves of power released by two powerful spiritual energies clashing, one of which was certainly a fey, and the other being hard to identify.
[“Someone is fighting a powerful Fey creature in the Shadow Plane… And I think it’s just outside Anauroch’s borders. The amount of energy radiated is incredible, almost as if those were ancient elementals or fey lords clashing, not something else. It’s a pity I cannot investigate what is happening… Nor do I know whom I should cheer on…”]


The creature that rose from beneath the snow and ice that covered the chamber was a grim testament to Arianrhod’s powers over both the elemental and the undead. It appeared to be a great earth elemental, but only partially. It was made from black and blood-tinted earth and contained rotting flesh and bones in its structure. To Maenaz’s senses, it appeared as if the earth itself charged up with negative energy and tried to make him do the same. He blasted the creature straight away, but the Virago countered this by releasing a wave of negative energy that was not identifiable as a spell.
- So, how do you like my Necromental? And it’s only my first! Thanks to the remains of the Snow Weird from this village and the experiments I’ve made on them, I can now change every elemental connected to water, cold or air into a Necromental just like this earthen one. Don’t you just love the thought?
- You’re deeply disturbed. I’ll finish off you and your little pet before you can do any more harm.
- You cannot defeat me, you little prick. You’re going to become food for my “pet”.

Maenaz wasted no more time, placing two crossing walls of flames inside the room just to capture the Necromental in both of them. He followed up with Eldritch Doom just as the Virago used her deathly touch through the medium of Spectral Hand.

Maenaz was then punched by the Necromental and once again placed in a blood-draining spot of negative energy by the Virago, this time not being able to withstand the attack. As the spell weakened his life force, snow around him started to take on a red hue, as if blood was filling it straight from his veins.
Maenaz, however, quickly consumed the circle of negative energy with his invocation to avoid further damage and gain some bonus life force, before summoning up all the strength he could muster to bathe the pair of opponents in acid. He then followed by rushing at the Elemental, placing another Flame Wall under it, slashing its abdomen, jumping onto its arm while still attempting further cuts and firing a blast straight into the back of its head – the move that finally finished the summoned creature, its massive “body” pummeled into the ground.
The Virago, furious at the defeat of her newest creation, again activated the vortex of icy shards, but this time Maenaz was well-prepared to better protect himself against the attack. At the same time, he accumulated energy in both his hands to the point of overcharge – and released two blasts at once into the fey creature. It responded by once again using the Spectral Hand to “touch” Maenaz, and he responded in an even more painful fashion – sending blast after blast from his charged-up hands, releasing a terrifying amount of eldritch energy in the process.
The Virago furiously once again unleashed her icy shards, gasping and panting after the exchange was done.
- Amazing eldritch might. You can also withstand my attacks and keep up with me during combat… That’s the most I’ve ever seen from a warlock up until now, and I’m not a youngling anymore.
- I did not come here to exchange compliments, Aranrhod. I am here only to kill you. No matter how powerful your attacks are.
- If you want to kill me, shouldn’t you just get to it already?
Maenaz drew his sword again and walked towards the Virago.
- Yes, that’s what you should do, isn’t it, human? Slay me with that mighty blade of yours… Come closer… Just a *little* closer…

Something was wrong, but Maenaz realized that too late. The strange sphere spell from before was fired at him and quickly started to numb his body just as the Virago once again released her powerful vortex attack. Maenaz barely managed to aim at the fey woman through her spell and fire the Eldritch Blast…
But his hand was caught by hers, and shifted just so that he would miss. He tried to pull out from her grasp, but the Virago possessed strength that was unnatural for her size and posture. She instead pulled him closer, the pain of her touch spreading through his body as she opened her arms… And embraced him. He felt stings of frostbite and pulses of negative energy as her arms encircled his body, quite ample but perky breasts pressed against his chest as he felt her cheek against his neck. The grab was strong and threatened not to let go until his body was drained of all heat.
Then, she started to speak. Silent, sensuous manner, words spoken softly.
- You’re like a magnificent black flame… Powerful, beautiful to behold, exciting to see as it destroys things… But threatening to melt the poor Arianrhod, too warm for her, opposing her mother Winter and so many of the things she stands for… So, your flame needs to be put out.
He tried to break free, but was unable to. His body was already too drained and her grab too strong. She continued, lips brushing against his neck.
- Don’t struggle, just stay… It doesn’t have to be so agonizing and long… Just give in, and Arianrhod will wake you up once you are no longer too warm for her… Just rest peacefully in my embrace…
So feminine and so not-feminine at once. The feeling would be almost pleasant, if it wasn’t for how cold her body was and how powerful the mix of cold and negative energy that seeped into his body was.
Of course, despite the fact that her words were too unnaturally charming not to be in any way enchanted, Maenaz did not want to do what she said for one second.

Shadowy grey energy came down on the pair, its power shaking the entire chamber as Maenaz managed to free from the fey’s grasp. He immediately slashed her across the entire body with Enserric as she unleashed a wave of negative energy. She was in pain, that much was obvious. The only question was whether he could finish him off before she did the opposite for him.
Maenaz decided to use the deep slash from Enserric as he trust his palm against the Virago’s body. His fingers entered the warmth-deprived body, feeling the soft inside just as he unleashed his Vitriolic Blast. It burned straight through her chest, consuming the heart, if she had one, and even forming a hole at her back.
Things remotely natural and alive did not survive these sorts of things.

Her eyes widened and her lips open, she started to fall onto the ground. Her hand once again brushed against first his face, and then his chest, cold to the touch, but no longer carrying the full destructive power of winter nor her necromantic Charnel Touch.
He could swear she whispered one word before she died and as he fell to one knee, coughing up blood, but hearing “Magnificent” from a woman he just killed and intended to slaughter from the beginning was just too unlikely.
He spit out the blood. It was very cold and had a metallic taste to it. He’d definitely get thermal shock or hypothermia or both after this fight. She might’ve not been as annoyingly persistent as her Champion, but she managed to deal even greater damage, and one he had no way of recovering from at the end of the battle.
Everything that didn’t hurt was numbed – in such a way that numbness and pain covered his entire body. The entire plane was filled with danger, he could sense it, and he could not help but feel like he was being observed.
He had to get out of this chamber and rest. He lifted Enserric, grabbing the woman by her hair, slowly felt where her neck was, and cut her head of cleanly – after all, the head was asked as proof that he indeed killed the Virago. He almost felt a twinge of guilt at doing this, even, however, it was necessary.

He crawled back up the stairs , put the cut-off head in his Bag of Holding and sat onto the ground, slowly pulling the potions out of his magical bags.
He was running out of them. Especially the healing potions.
He gathered the healing bottles in front of him. He may have a hard time getting out of here if the Chraals and any possible remaining undead decided to make it harder for him.
He put other potions back into their respective bags. The process took longer due to his lack of sight, but he was still able to identify the bottles by putting a finger in each potion and tasting it. This time, he’d rather have them all segregated instead of having to check them all again at another time.

The amount of healing potions was a bit unsatisfactory but he’d have to manage. He drunk them, one by one, feeling his strength slowly return. He got up. There wasn’t much time to waste – he could recover fully back at the Gate of Vipers.
He walked through the portal to a rather grim scene.. A few more chraals died when he was away, as evident by the additional remains on the ground. Others pressed against walls and tried to stay away from the middle of the chamber.
In the middle, something else was standing. And then, he realized.

The Chraal Leader he battled was already treated with the method Frostwind Virago mentioned. He’d change into an undead elemental, or “Necromental” as she called it, upon dying.
He killed the bastard and now he’ll have to face its undead form. Excellent. He only hoped the other Chraals wouldn’t intervene – if they did, he had a feeling he would eventually lose.
He had no idea how much intellect the creature that became of the Chraal leader retained nor how powerful it’d be now that it became an undead, but he knew that he had to defeat it and not take too much damage while trying to do it.

Walking to the middle of the chamber quickly gathered the attention of both the lesser chraals and their now ex-leader. The formed didn’t move, which meant perhaps this was going to be a one-on-one fight.
The necromental released a loud roar before it charged at him. Maenaz wasted no time, placing a wall of flames on its path and jumping far to the left and back, firing a blast once the Chraal broke through his previous invocation. The Chraal rushed forward to engage him, and this time, had no axe to increase its own attack power. Maenaz cut at the approaching hand with Enserric, dodging another attack as he put a wall of flames under the chraal and started cutting it up. After a moment of such exchange, he was finally hit by the beast’s claw. It still carried the power of cold, but more importantly, the negative energy effect was the same with the Earth Necromental, only more powerful, and it threatened to take away his power. This time, however, it failed. Maenaz jumped away and fired an Eldritch Blast, and then repeated the action. The Necromental just kept following.

He was now sure. The transformation took away its intelligence – previously, it would have definitely tried either its breath weapon or its Eldritch Blast from such a distance, while now, it wanted to keep fighting in melee. Maenaz wasn’t sure whether its unholy resurrection restored its breath attacks, but he more wondered what happened with the warlock abilities – was it too stupid to use them now? Or has it lost them?
He personally leaned towards the second option. The beast fought with less skill and thought now, which meant it might as well have lost these additional powers. While still mightier than an average Chraal, it was effectively a far easier opponent than before, despite gaining the negative energy touch and the ability to restore its form, “regenerate”, in a way.
Maenaz and the Chraal jumped at each other, with Maenaz slashing its way through the beast’s hide just as it tried to slash at him repeatedly with its claws.
[“Stupid.”]

The Warlock jumped backwards as he accumulated his most powerful attack, and just before he fired his Vitriolic Doom, the Chraal finally used its breath weapon. It appeared about the same as it had before and it wasn’t tainted by negative energy in any way, and Maenaz still managed to fire the blast despite its power. The Chraal roared as the blast drowned him, its body getting even more malformed and scarred than before. Maenaz had a feeling the battle wouldn’t take long. The Chraal was even less of a challenge than it was when alive, as odd as it seemed. Apparently, this one relied on its intellect and not-natural abilities too much to grow stronger like the Earth Necromental did. A waste, simply.
But then, Maenaz’s sense warned him of incoming danger, despite the fact that the Chraal should be pretty much dying soon. A wave of negative energy was unleashed, but it carried something else, something *more*.
Moments later, the Warlock once again wished he’d have eyes, if only to observe the spectacle that unveiled right before his eyes. The chraal was… Changing. He could sense as much. He did not understand the reason, but had a feeling he might’ve been too quick in deciding that the creature was less of a danger than before.

The Chraal was stopped mid-way as it tried to get back on its feet from the attack. The additional damage to its form from the acid was rapidly partially healed as its transformation begun. It started with the symbol on its chest, seemingly painted with blood, glowing and changing. Formerly, it looked like a simple invented pentagram – now it grew and shifted, becoming more curved and gaining a somewhat spiral shape. As it ceased its morphing, the physical changes started to cut in. An entirely black spot appeared on the creature’s forehead and it started to stand out in relief, changing the shape of the forehead. The creature’s shoulders became more bulky as it appeared to gain a bit more mass, and its shoulders and knees formed sharp, needle-like plates. The ridges on its back shifted, two of them becoming more pronounced and darkened to an ebony color. A crackling sound was heard and then another, harder to describe, as two pairs of horn-like bones [or what appeared to be bones – after all, elementals should not have a skeletal structure altogether] extended from its back. The beast’s eyes finally gained a uniform color, black with small, glowing, deathly pale green spots imitating irises.

The beast roared as its transformation was complete.

Maenaz just stood there for a moment, contemplating what just happened. The chraal he fought just evolved for apparently no reason at all. Before it died, it was somewhat different from other Chraals and it possessed warlock powers. It somehow became a Necromental after death despite the Virago never being there to transform him in the first place.
She said something about using the remains of the Snow Weird (which he believed was the proper name for what Brandon called the Snow Oracle) to make all cold-based Elementals into Necromentals. It was obvious that was the case here. Now, what wasn’t obvious was why the creature possessed warlock abilities before, nor why did it suddenly evolve now.
Maenaz’s bet was that as an experiment or knowingly Aranrhod added her blood to whatever else was connected to the Chraal. After all, possessing fey blood could awaken warlock talents in living creatures – why wouldn’t adding it to an elemental give him potential to become one? Now that the creature apparently lost these abilities, it was again the blood that affected it – Arianrhod’s powers of necromancy finally connected with the creature’s own negative energy source and allowed it to expand, thus morphing the creature.
Maenaz felt another, immediate danger as the beast released something. The danger became a sphere that was slowly but steadily expanding.
[“Cloudkill? How the hell did it even learn to use it? Is it part of the evolution too?”]
Maenaz decided to keep his distance and started firing away straight at the beast, who, not caring about standing in its own magical effect rushed at him and took his blast head-on. As they clashed, Maenaz realized that the beast’s strength increased almost to the level it had when alive and using its berserk-like rage, and its hide was even more resistant to attacks than before. His body ached under the attack of the creature, who continued to try and shred him to pieces with its continuous strikes. Maenaz fired a blast straight to its abdomen and put it on fire once again, before ramming Enserric below its neck. Of course, the beast no longer truly cared about the damage nor pain until it was practically dying. Instead, it fired its breath weapon that put out Maenaz’s flames and caused him to flinch. His body was almost at its limits when it came to enduring coldness, apparently. He brought down Eldritch Doom and jumped at the beast, proceeding to cut its abdomen , then fire a blast into its head to blind it and trying to cut off its leg – to no avail, since it was now too resistant to the attack. The beast tore at him with its claws but he dodged, accumulating another Vitriolic Doom just to fire it a moment later. The beast grabbed him and threw him into the now extended Cloudkill, that already reached a few of the surrounding Chraals, but since they were elementals they might’ve been immune to it.
Unlike him.

He made up his mind before the Chraal started to rush back at him. He was inside an effect that could eventually kill him given enough time, and the Necromental could fight him for a long time – not only becoming one gave him ability to rapidly heal, it appeared this evolution increased it. Tough and hard to damage as it was, fighting it conventionally would take a long, long time.
So he decided to instead bury it under a surge of blast until it couldn’t move anymore.

Energy flew through him to the point of damaging his own body again, as he sheathed Enserric and channeled it to his hands. Light flashed around both of them as he dodged the charging beast and jumped out as close to the edge of the Cloudkill as he could. He then proceeded to start firing his blasts, all of them in Beshadowed version to make the Chraal unable to accurately attack him if possible.
First blast from the right hand did not succeed, but first from the left did. Another blast from the right, and it allowed the Chraal to locate him. Another from the left. Yet another from his right, and the creature was already very close. Then, he fired the surge of energy that made his entire body tremble and hurt, bringing down Eldritch Doom before the Chraal got too close. The beast roared and jumped at him, trying to pin him but he moved outside its reach, so it only managed to ram him with its hand, throwing him out of the reach of its Cloudkill. Maenaz once again gathered up all his energy as the creature tried to locate him again. First blast from the left, one from the right, second from the left. The beast breathed out its weapon, but Maenaz did not cease in his barrage. Another from the right. Last one from the left.
The beast screamed as it made a tremendous jump through the air to get him.
Eldritch Doom rammed it back into the ground, a breaking and cracking sound before the creature exploded like all alive beings of its original kind.

Maenaz panted and breathed heavily. This was definitely a very, very hard day for him. Rarely he wished only for a warm bed at the end of the day, but this was one such instance. And yet, he had to keep going. Not to mention he was still surrounded by chraals.
Chraals who slowly but steadily approached him.
Only some of them, however. Were the others still too afraid? Or were they damaged and didn’t want to risk destruction? The group that approached, however, was the larger one. He was already trying to bring forth more eldritch energy so he could fight at his best, but then, the chraals stopped, still in a safe distance.

He heard a weird clicking sound. And another. And another. And dozens of them. His Dark Foresight suddenly perceived the chraals that approached him as a lesser threat than the ones that didn’t, and the repeated sound made him understand.
They kneeled. The cruel elementals were kneeling in front of him, the man who killed their leader and then the creature it changed into.
Other chraals released far more aggressive sounds and started to approach them. The kneeling Chraals turned to their previous companions and also released angry sounds.
It appeared he should get ready for more violence.


Sand was sitting in his library, reading a book. The tome concerned the city’s immediate problems, which, for the first time, weren’t poverty, war, disease, famine or crime.
No. Magical darkness was the problem. And an unusual one as well. Sand never met with anything that had so much condensed energy of this type – it was definitely negative, unholy, profane and accursed. And the darkness had a negative effect on almost everyone in town that got on the streets.
Prayers, spells, and combinations of the two did not work. Nothing *simple* worked.
Sand decided it was up to himself to take care of the problem. After all, the great Hero of Neverwinter decided to travel and chickened out on them.
And someone had to take responsibility for once.


Maenaz couldn’t help but grin after the battle was over. Here it was, his new strike force. Twenty seven evil cold elemental creatures that would be added to the Gate’s army. At least for a time. Until he decided it was time to accomplish his original purpose, and attack the city of Neverwinter.

For now, however, he had other things to do. He needed to get back to Gate of Vipers and there was only one portal nearby to do that, and it wasn’t in this fortress, either. Then, the town of Hopeless awaited him, along with a certain tiger-header necromancer and his assassin “accomplice”.
He motioned at his new servants, and they followed. He was the flame, and they were like moths.

One step closer to making Neverwinter fall. His smile widened. Neverwinter will fall.
[“And I will have… my revenge.”].

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To all D&D maniacs out there – Here’s where the monsters are from:
Chraal and Redcap - edition 3.x Monster Manual 3. The Frostwind Virago- MMV.
Necromental template - Libris Mortis.
Undead, Ice Golem, Ice-made gargoyles- Frostburn.

Oh, and Maenaz's taint is not a rip-off of anything. Taint is from Heroes of Horror, I just decided to make my own storyline implications and nature to it.


Also, from now on you can check my profile to see how far I am in terms of progress with the next chapter. It's at the bottom of my introduction, and will be updated either weekly or bi-weekly, depending on my time.