Blood and Honor

Haldin held up a hand. “I doubt that our adversary has forgotten your invisibility of a few minutes ago, since it cost him so dearly,” he said. “No doubt he will be prepared for a similar attack.” He turned to Dria.

“My lady,” he said, “I do not wish to expose your homunculus to danger any more than you do. However, it will be invaluable—even potentially life-saving—to know what lies ahead of us. A brief glimpse through a doorway would be sufficient, if you would be so kind.”

Dria sighed. “Which one do you want me to look at first?”

“Your choice, my lady,” answered Haldin with a smile.

Dria murmured to her homunculus, and it flitted off toward the central archway. Brey covered the left-hand arch with her bow, while Tarrel covered the one on the right with his wand of fireballs. Mordan glanced nervously from one arch to another as Haldin stood beside Dria. The Cannith heir’s eyes had a faraway look.

“A large room,” she said, “it looks empty. No visible exits.”

The homunculus flapped out, and went through the left-hand arch. Dria gasped.

“What is it, my lady?” asked Haldin.

“Some kind of workshop,” she replied. “It’s not a creation forge, but the components look like—”

“Like your kinsman may have been at work there?” asked the gnome.

She nodded.

“Is it empty?” asked Mordan.

“I didn’t see anyone,” Dria replied. Her eyes cleared as the homunculus flew back into the chamber, and she started for the archway.

“Wait,” said Brey, “what about the third one?”

“I have to look for my cousin,” Dria replied. “The third one’s all yours.” She took another step, but Brey was in front of her, blocking her way.

“Now listen,” she said with a snarl, “we’re not going anywhere till you check out that other arch.”

“I have my duty,” Dria said coldly. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh , really?” snapped Brey, “and do you expect us to drop everything and watch your overbred, dragonmarked rear while you carry out your duty? It would still be sitting in that cell if we hadn’t let you out!”

“And you,” Dria retorted, leaning into Brey’s face, “would still be cowering in front of that robed scarecrow if I hadn’t blasted him—so I think that makes us even!”

Brey’s face began to distort in anger, and Mordan hurriedly interposed himself between the two.

“We don’t have time for this!” he said. “That elf could be back at any moment! Now, if you don’t want to check out the third arch, I will. Brey, Tarrel—cover me!” He strode purposefully toward the arch.

“Wait.” said Brey. “I’ll do it.”

He stopped and turned. The vampire woman shifted to the form of a bat—smaller than the one that had flown the chasm in the Mournland—and flew through the arch. Within a minute, she returned and resumed her natural form.

“It’s a temple,” she said. “Seems empty, looks like there are some rooms beyond it.”

“Thank you. Captain,” said Haldin smoothly.

Dria’s gaze dropped to the ground.

“So,” the gnome continued, “our choice appears to be simple. If we investigate the workshop, perhaps we will rescue Lady Dria’s kinsman, and possibly gain some mechanical allies into the bargain. If we go to the temple first, we will do so with only our current strength, which we already know is sufficient only to stalemate our foe.” He looked expectantly from face to face.

“Well,” said Brey, “if you put it that way… .”

“Whatever we do,” said Mordan, “let’s do it. I don’t want to be still standing here when Dravuliel comes back with reinforcements.”

“You’ve got my vote,” said Tarrel. “Nice logic, by the way.”

Haldin smiled. “When you are small of stature,” he said modestly, “you learn to calculate the odds with great care. Shall we proceed?”

With Brey in the lead, the five headed into the workshops.

Chapter 23

Another Reunion

Olarune 26, 999 YK

A short passage led to the area that Dria’s homunculus had scouted. As she had said, it looked like a workshop—it was filled with tables and workbenches, like the workshop Mordan, Brey, and Tarrel had discovered in the Mournland, but the tools were far different.

Here and there, a corpse lay on a table. Laid out on other surfaces were jointed metal limbs and plates, looking like pieces of armor. A few of the corpses had metal limbs attached, while others had apparently been subjected to amputations. The stout leather straps securing them to the tables, and the expressions of agony frozen on their dead faces, suggested that the operations had been carried out on living subjects.

Dria examined them as the other four scoured the room for threats.

“Let me guess,” said Tarrel. “He’s trying to make undead warforged.”

“I fear his plan is more subtle than that,” said Haldin, looking at a vat full of a dull brown liquid. “Theoretically, undead warforged would be little different from armored zombies, and as we have seen, Dravuliel’s research has moved far beyond that level. I suspect that his aim is to produce a creature that blends the undead with the construct, combining the strengths of each.”

“You are correct!”