Sending a group of morally dubious characters into Scuttle Cove had had nasty implications for our little band. Surely the only worse thing that could possibly happen would be for a holy church unwittingly and unknowingly sending a group of evil people into a previously sealed tomb filled with some of the most powerfully evil artefacts to ever blight the planet and ask them to destroy the evil? But what are the chances of that ever happening.....

Returning to Parma revived some of my flagging spirits. Being somewhere familiar and doing familiar things helped me to restore a sense of perspective after the terrible tragedies we had endured in Scuttle Cove. Life proceeded at a fairly leisurely pace for a few days. We were back in town with our rewards from Scuttle Cove and determined to enjoy what life offered us while we could. Losing Pernicus and Gywdion made me realise just how fragile my life was in my chosen career, and on returning to Parma I was determined to enjoy what life I had before any more disasters struck.

So the days unfurled themselves in a pleasantly familiar manner. Festus got a new tattoo, we all went shopping with the money we'd made in Scuttle Cove, Raven spent many happy hours trying to sneak passed the wardens at the Botanical Gardens in order to climb the trees growing there, I was able to verbalise my sorrow at losing my two friends in several emotional performances in the dockside taverns. Only Haladi seemed more sullen that usual. He drew into himself and we didn't really see much of him during those days. When he did finally reappear he was wearing some shiny new armour that proudly bore the symbol of Grizit. He radiated a sense of power, a sense of new found confidence, and a new sense of malevolence. Some people need faith in order to fully realise themselves. Regardless of whether that faith is misplaced or not, the very act of having something to believe in finally completes them as a person. This was quite clearly the case with Haladi and although his new world view was less than salubrious we were in no position to judge. We made it perfectly clear that as long as his duties to his new master didn't clash with whatever we happened to be doing as a group then we could offer no reasonable objections to his faith. I had a strong suspicion that at some point his loyalties would be called into question, and I believe that everyone had the same suspicion - including Haladi himself - but we made the unconscious decision to deal with that issue when it arose.

We hadn't really decided on our next course of action as we were still enjoying the normality of life in Parma. Then one day, suddenly, everything got weird.

We were out walking around town when a half-Orc engulfed in flames came charging around the corner. This was strange enough but it was clear that he wasn't actually in any pain, or being harmed by the fire. He was shocked and hysterical, as you would imagine anyone would be, and I felt desperately sorry for what I assumed was a helpless individual. I had little time to express these feelings before the boys, deciding that he was an abomination (I don't believe that Haladi thought he was an abomination but I don't think he cared or was looking for any moral justification) attacked the poor half-Orc. While they were doing that a Dwarf came rushing out of a nearby house screaming that a giant sea monster had appeared in the walls of the house. I then noticed that I lost control of my ability to use my Open/Close spell and doors and windows near me started responding to the magic.

Other similarly strange events started erupting all around us and the street really was a scene of pandemonium. In all of this chaos some of the boys somehow spotted a shadowy figure moving down a parallel street who seemed remarkable unperturbed by the bizarre events breaking out all around. We promptly intercepted him and discovered he was some kind of Drow, although clearly different from the Drow we had heard about. He warned us about interfering with the powers of chaos, which explained the strange sights we had seen on the street, but did not deter us from "interfering". He quickly lay dead at our feet and I persuaded the boys we should make good our exit before the City Guard arrived as technically we had killed an innocent person, in the form of the half-Orc.

In a garrulous city like Parma there are very few true secrets. Those secrets that are still guarded are probably best not known anyway. They are dangerous secrets that can cost a man his life and are best left hidden. We had gained some renown for our exploits against the hideous creature in the hold of the deserted ship (I believe renown is the correct word for that particular moment in the history of our group - notoriety was to replace it slightly later) and it didn't take a genius to work out that we had been responsible for slaying the Drow and ending the series of strange events. Fortunately the City Guard were well down on their quota of geniuses, but none of us were particularly surprised when we were accosted by women that night in The Hungry Virgin Inn who wanted to talk to us about the day's activities.

She introduced herself as Jevicca Norr and explained that she represented a group of magic-users who were concerned about the strange events that had taken place that day throughout the city and wanted us to investigate. The most surprising thing about her, about from her more than generous remuneration, was that her left arm was made entirely out of red glass. It functioned as a normal arm and was clearly charged with an extremely powerful magic that left us slightly in awe of her - we were obviously in the presence of a powerful spell caster. Having said that, we weren't too fazed by this as we'd recently been having similar conversations with incredible beautiful naked demons!

Jevicca explained that long before Parma was build a powerful cleric of good lived in the area called Danar Rotansin. He decided to try and gather all of the powerful evil magic items that existed in the world and create a secure place to guard them to stop them falling into evil hands. To this end he created a magical dungeon known as the Banewarrens. Unfortunately, the sheer power of such collective evil had a massive corrupting influence and after many years Danar Rotansin became thoroughly tainted by this influence. Eventually the various good churches that had, up until then, backed Danar Rotansin turned against him, defeated him and killed him. Even more powerful magic was used to seal the Banewarrens from the outside world for all eternity and, as is the nature of these stories, they eventually faded from memory. So much so that Parma was build right on top of the Banewarrens without anyone having so much as having a clue as to what lay below. Needless to say, Jevicca believed that something had disturbed the Banewarrens and some of its chaotic magic was leaking out. She wanted us to find the Banewarrens and try to find out what was happening.

We were only too pleased to accept this offer to earn some more money. To be honest we were hooked after she mentioned the powerful evil magic items that Danar Rotansin had gathered there. We did not really believe that an item could be evil as such, after all is a sword not evil in the wrong hands? Thus we were convinced that we would be able to use some of the items stored in the Banewarrens. Oh, the foolishness of the greedy!

Shortly after Jevicca left a cleric of St.Cuthbert approached us called Brother Fabitor Thisk. He explained that the entrance to the Banewarrens was supposed to be located underneath a mansion in Parma and that a paladin of his church called Kalerecent had recently been sent by the church to investigate the cause of the recent disturbances. He had disappeared and Brother Thisk was prepared to offer us money to search for Kalerecent while we were in the Banewarrens. We were fully prepared for the Banewarrens being a tough proposition - after all a dungeon filled with the foulest evil items ever created is unlikely to be welcoming - and without Cruath we were reliant on my meagre healing spells and whatever potions we could afford. We asked Brother Thisk to grant our group access to the full healing powers of his order rather than pay us any money. He was more than happy to agree to this deal and we all went to bed that night wondering just what we would find in the Banewarrens.

Our first foray into the Banewarrens was marked by confusion and bloodshed. When we emerged from our first trip we had very little understanding of what we had seen but both Jevicca and Brother Thisk were happy with our findings.

It is somewhat ironic that the event that sparked the most discussion and disagreement within our group actually occurred outside the mansion where Brother Thisk had told us the entrance was located. An elderly lady lived in a small cottage with a fine view of the approach to the mansion. We were keen to find out if see had seen the paladin enter, which indeed she had. She was a lonely old lady who was starved of company and was delighted to meet a group of people who wanted to talk to her. She made us tea and offered us a delicious cake. It still seems remarkable to me that anyone could possibly think of her as anything other than a sweet old lady. But they did, in particularly Festus, who was convinced she knew more. So much so that on a later occasion, when the rest of us were pre-occupied, he snuck into her cottage, clubbed her into unconsciousness and proceeded to search her cottage. Needless to say he found nothing and it took some considerable fast talking on my part to prevent the old dear from calling for the City Guard. I was furious at Festus and let him know so, in no uncertain terms!

We had managed to find Kalerecent at the entrance to the Banewarrens, badly injured but alive. We discovered that there was a magical warding device that guarded a door which lead deeper into the Banewarrens and that this device had quite clearly been tampered with and broken. This would explain how the magic leaked out, but did not explain who had broken the warding device, or for what purpose. To our surprise we found that another group of adventurers were interested in the Banewarrens, lead by a strange old Hag and a Minotaur. These were the people that had waylaid Kalerecent and he told us that the Hag had used a wish spell to enter the door that was no longer warded by the device. This obviously sent shivers down our spines as we had vaguely heard of the wish spell as being the most powerful magic available to mortals and that it could alter the very fabric of reality itself! Needless to say, we eventually bumped into the Minotaur and his cronies and, with Kalerecent's help managed to defeat them, although we were badly injured. Without any way to get through the door that led further into the Banewarrens we returned to the surface, stopping only for a quick cup of tea and slice of cake with the old lady.

One interesting aspect of rescuing the paladin was his reaction to Haladi. We were all a bit wary, wondering if Kalerecent would realise the significance of the symbol on Haladi's breastplate. Fortunately he didn't and, rather interestingly, he actual bonded very quickly with Haladi, calling him his "brother in arms". On several occasions he made comments about he and Haladi smiting evil together. Rather sensibly Haladi kept quiet, while Festus and I tried to suppress our giggles. However, despite the humour I found in this situation there hung over it an air of menace, very much like the aura of malevolency that I had started noticing around Haladi. It seemed clear that the longer Kalerecent was around Haladi the greater the chance that violence would erupt. We wanted to return Kalerecent to his church as quickly as possible, if only for his sake, but he seemed to think he had found a kindred spirit in Haladi and was determined to follow him into the very jaws of hell, unaware that if he did so Haladi would probably be welcomed with a slap on the back and given a nice spot near the fire.

Brother Thisk and Jevicca were both extremely pleased with our result, paid the agreed amount and then offered us further incentive to venture further into the Banewarrens, provided we could get through the door. We were more than happy to agree as we were essentially being paid by two different people for the same task! The church of St.Cuthbert gave us a scroll with the legend lore spell to find out what we could about the door. This revealed that the key to the door was a mummified hand that belonged to the House Vladaam.

Just when we thought things were going so well.....

I am sure that, just like my dutiful pupil, you have heard some of the stories about House Vladaam. All of us, at some point during childhood, have been scared into sleep by our parents threatening that "someone from the House Vladaam will come and get you if you aren't asleep my midnight". We grow up and see that House Vladaam are one of the oldest noble families in Parma and dismiss the rumours and speculation as being urban myths and childhood ghost stories.

I've had some dealings with the House Vladaam in my life and I can assure that these rumours and speculation are not only true, but that they are just a distilled version of the truth made palatable for our consumption.

House Vladaam were never descended from anything that we would call a recognisable species and over the years has it has become one of the most evil and insidious organisations ever to scar the surface of the world. I can tell you with absolutely certainty that anything that happens it this fair city that decent people would call unpleasant can be linked with the House Vladaam.

They are pure evil and, I am afraid to say, living (I use the term advisedly) proof that if evil dresses itself up with an air of respectability and has enough money to buy influence and turn the right heads the wrong way then it can live side-by-side with those parties who usual abhor the presence of evil. Some of our high churches might subject us to regular diatribes about the eternal battle against evil, but if that evil donates to the church roof fund and invites the high clergy round for the occasional banquet, then the church is only too happy to redefine their concept of evil and send us off in crusades against hapless tribes of Orcs who live a quiet subsistence life on the fringes of the "civilised" world.

My student is always shocked by these vitriolic worlds of mine. I think he views me as a cynical old lady who has lost so many friends in her life that she has become bitter and twisted. I accept that there is an element of truth in this view, but not when it comes to me thoughts on the House Vladaam. Every word is true and not a single world is exaggerated. Believe me, I "know".

Thus it was with some trepidation that we steeled ourselves for the task of breaking into the House Vladaam estate in order to locate and steal the mummified hand that we hoped was the key to the door. We had heard rumours that they used werewolves to guard their estate. Just like my youthful scribe, and so many of you who will be reading this, we dismissed this as nothing more than rumour. How could a noble familiar with an estate in the heart of beautiful Parma possible have ferocious werewolves on their lands? It's unthinkable!

You can imagine our surprise when we discovered that there were, indeed, werewolves guarding the House Vladaam. Any many of them.

Everything had been going well and we'd managed to sneak through the grounds and get to the mansion without alerting a soul. It transpired that Festus had joined the Thieves Guild during our few days off and they had provided him with a map of the mansion. We believed we had spotted a likely looking room in which to guard the key - it was on the third floor and the only room in the place that didn't have a window. Having successfully avoided the guards on patrol in the grounds it was only a simple process of opening a window and we would be on our way to the top floor of the house.

Unfortunately Festus failed to spot the alarm spell that was triggered on opening a window and all hell broke loose. We were able to deal with the guards and their dogs, although we were heavily outnumbered and struggling, when the two creatures that were very clearly werewolves arrived and things began to get very nasty for us. We were now outnumbered and outmatched and the longer we stayed there the fewer our options were. Eventually we were faced with two choices: flee and return again, or make a mad, desperate dash for the top floor, hope the hand was in the room we had identified, and then somehow hope that we could get out of the mansion alive knowing full well that (literally) the hounds of hell would be snapping at our heels all the way and determined to stop us ever descending the two floors alive to make good our escape.

It's hardly a choice is it?

We went for the second option. If you have been reading my tale from the very beginning this won't have been much of a surprise to you.

We did actually make it to the top floor alive. We were able to easily fend off the attempts of the werewolves to get up the stairs because they could only come up one at a time. We did actually find the room we were after and Festus was actually able to pick the incredibly complex lock that held the door, although it took him many minutes to do so, his task not made any easier by the werewolves who were able to make it to the top of the stairs and took a keen interest in his activities before the rest of us could beat them back down.

Unfortunately the room was a torture chamber (another rumour that proved to be true) and was completely devoid of any hands, mummified or otherwise. By now the entire compliment of the House Vladaam house guards was waiting for us on the floor below. Vladaam himself was below threatening to send some serious magic up the stairs if we didn't surrender. Haladi's attempts to escape through the window were thwarted by a hail of arrow fire from the archers that now surrounded the mansion. Things looked pretty bleak, and I'm sure you can understand our reluctance to surrender to a "man" who had his own personal torture chamber that was guarded by werewolves.

Then we were thrown the most miraculous of life-lines: the City Guard arrived. If we could surrender to the City Guard then we just might get out of this predicament alive. We retreated to a room on the third floor that did have a window and I started negotiating with the Captain who was in charge of the detachment. I can be very persuasive when the need arises and I knew a few people in the City Guard. I was somehow able to persuade the Captain that we were on a mission for another member of the City Guard. He was in the process of swallowing this when disaster struck and I saw old "man" Vladaam talking to him and a large bag being waved around. House Vladaam was resorting to the weapon that they knew best: bribery.

Then the second miraculous life-line: the Captain was one of the alarmingly few members of the City Guard whose loyalty to Parma outweighs all else. He refused Vladaam's bribe! I could have kissed him! In no uncertain terms he made it clear that we were surrendering to the City Guard. They came into the house (I assume this was enough time for the werewolves and various other assorted species in the Vladaam house guards to make themselves scarce) and we surrendered to them and were escorted off the property.

We still had to somehow escape the City Guard custody, and regardless of our various moral stances none of us were prepared to attack the City Guard, but at least we were alive. I'm still not really sure how it happened, but it had. We may have failed to retrieve the key, but from staring a certain long and painful death in the face we were breathing the delicious Parma night air. It was a miracle.

And it appears that major miracles begat minor ones. The Captain let us go! I literally did kiss him this time! He explained that he detested House Vladaam (someone else who had learnt the hard way that the rumours were insipid versions of the much more awful truth) and that their attempts to bribe him had done nothing to make him think any better of them. He warned us against going back because he would be in no position to save us again.

This certainly was turning into a night of terrors and miracles. It still amazes me to this day.

It was only as we had our way back to The Hungry Virgin Inn that we noticed Festus was missing.

I'm afraid that I can't offer any certain facts about the circumstances that led to the death of Festus. Somehow he remained behind in the mansion belonging to House Vladaam. Whether this was by choice, or whether he was taken while we were leaving, or whether we just forgot about him, I will never be able to say with any surety. The evening was confusing and desperate. Towards the end when I was negotiating with the City Guard with a slow and painful death my fate if my negotiations failed, I really had no idea what the boys were up to. I was entirely focussed on trying to get out of a desperate situation alive. The various events and chances that could have resulted in Festus remaining in the mansion are too numerous to warrant speculation.

All I can tell you with any certainty is that we received a note the following morning telling us that Festus was dead and we were not to return to the House Vladaam. We did not doubt the veracity of the message because it was written on human skin. Specifically Festus' skin and specifically one of his many tattoos. It was not a nice way to start the day.

What can I say about losing Festus? He was my friend and I was upset, but my grief was superficial compared to the hurt I had felt when Pernicus had been killed. Festus was my drinking companion and we had shared many happy times in various taverns in Parma. I remember the pleasant afternoon we spent on the beach on the Isle of Dread when the others got themselves trapped in the necromancer's tower. I even remember accompanying him to the tattooists when he got the tattoo on which the dreadful note was written. But throughout all of this I knew that I could never fully trust Festus. I wrote when we first met him that he was more interested in personal wealth than group wealth and I was never too sure as to what depths he would plunge to secure the one over the many. I was upset, but tempered by the knowledge that Festus had, in some way, chosen his own fate. Losing Pernicus, with whom I had trusted my life, had devastated me and was to be a loss from which I was never to truly recover.

I was now surrounded by strangers. I had never bonded with Raven, I never fully trusted Haladi, even more so now that he had revealed his chosen path in life, and Brian seemed too overawed by the magnificent, malevolent presence of Haladi, to be totally trustworthy.

My goodness - the keen mind of my scribe has pointed out to me that I have not introduced Brian! Recalling the shock of losing both Pernicus and Gwydion must have disrupted my already frail powers of recall.

Brian has joined our little band when we returned to Parma after the trip to Scuttle Cove. He was a Human monk who, if I am brutally honest, put Gywdion to shame. I had always believed Gywdion to be quick and nimble but he was a clumsy sloth compared to the speed and grace of Brian. On our first journey into the Banewarrens I had seen him deflect arrows with his bare hands, trip many an opponent to the ground, and deliver a mighty flurry of blows with his fists. It was awe-inspiring to watch him in combat - his power and elegance were incredible. I don't believe he had known Haladi before he started adventuring with us, and I think he had befriended Haladi during our few days rest on returning to Parma. It was Haladi who proposed that we allow him to join our band and we all thought he would make a good replacement for Gywdion. It was clear, even then, that his easy-going personality was overpowered by the force of Haladi's personality. Had we been able to foresee just where this would lead Brian then we should have never allowed him into our band, for his sake as well as for our sake. But my weary eyes are seeing things through hindsight again. At the time we could have never foreseen what was to come.

My grief at the death of Festus did have one unexpected outcome. Later that morning I sung an elegy for Festus, taking great pains to lay all the blame for his death at the door of House Vladaam. I have to say it was one of my better performances and I had several people in tears who had never even heard of Festus. However, one member of the audience had heard of Festus. He introduced us as Elvis Lovechild III and explained that he was a member of the same "club" that Festus had recently joined. We all knew he that he was referring to the Thieves Guild. He was extremely bold and made the wild claim that he knew Festus had been trying to retrieve something from the House Vladaam and that he knew something of the layout of the House Vladaam. Elvis claimed that if we told him what we had been looking for he would retrieve it, provided we allowed him to join our band. I didn't trust him at all. I'd seen him casting glances at Haladi's breastplate with its brazen symbol of Grizit and I was wary of having another member of the group fall under his influence. But we needed the hand and there was no way that we could return to the mansion. If this fellow was prepared to put his life at risk to join our band then we had nothing to lose. If he failed and died, another rogue would have perished in the House Vladaam and the world would keep turning. If he succeeded then we would have someone to replace Festus, which was vital as the Banewarrens had been protected by many fiendish traps, and we would have the key. So we accepted his offer. Fortunately my worries about him falling under Haladi's influence did not amount to anything too serious, not because of any lack of desire on his part, but because Festus had engendered a lifelong hatred of rogues in Haladi.

And perhaps the most remarkable ending to this tale is that Elvis Lovechild III proved to be up to his word. Somehow, and he was never to tell us how he achieved this, he returned from the House Vladaam mansion alive and with the mummified hand that was the key to the door guarding the further reaches of the Banewarrens.

Our party was again up to five and we were back in business!

My memories of our journey into what we later discovered were the Outer Vaults of the Banewarrens are difficult to place in any coherent order because they are so numerous. Where our foray into the entrance of the Banewarrens had been fairly unremarkable, or at least as far as I can recall, and only solicited a brief précis from me, I really do not know where to start with retelling our exploits in the Outer Vaults. My memories are crowded and all vying for attention.

Now I come to think about it there really is only one place to start, and that is with the opening of the door and poor Kalerecent's tale.

After we had told the church of St.Cuthbert about the Hag that had used a wish spell to pass through the door they dispatched Kalerecent to guard the door in case she should return, or anything else should try to pass through the door. When we returned with the key he was extremely glad to see us again, particularly Haladi, with whom he embraced and expressed delight that Haladi would be venturing into the Banewarrens to continue the fight against evil. We touched the mummified hand against the door and the blue glow that surrounded the door faded and the door slowly swung open. The Outer Vaults awaited us.

Kalerecent did not really want us walking into a trap so he must have decided to use his powers as a paladin to try and detect if any evil lay on the other side of the door. The area covered by his powers obviously included Haladi whom he now stared at in uncomprehending horror. Before we could do anything he lunged at Haladi screaming for us to help him defeat the monstrosity. Haladi had obviously been expecting such an outcome ever since we had crossed paths with Kalerecent and he was prepared for the paladin's assault. He fought back shouting at us to help him as the paladin has clearly gone mad.

They really were both as naive as each other. Haladi actually believed that the rest of us had no idea about his true nature. We had been with him when Tiralandow gave him the bracers and we had seen Grizit's symbol on his armour; how stupid did he think we were? Equally, Kalerecent genuinely believed that we had been travelling with Haladi and had no inclining of his true nature. Good and evil, when taken to the extremes of Kalerecent and Haladi, really are hopeless. Both sides seem to think that they are the only party that has any real idea about what is happening in the world. I've always maintained that only those who can see both evil and good ever really get a glimpse of the true nature of things, and this little incident only confirmed that theory.

I was not going to get involved. This was a battle between good and evil and it really didn't make any difference to me who won. I had no loyalties to Haladi who, I think I have made perfectly clear, I did not like or trust, and who could be easily replaced with a trip to one of the dockside taverns. I had no loyalties to Kalerecent who, if he and his church had their way, we would be risking life and limb for in the Banewarrens for nothing more than "the greater good". Admittedly, our employers, namely the church of St.Cuthbert, were unlikely to look too kindly on the slaying of one of their numbers but I was hoping that if it came to a crunch that I could distance myself from Haladi's actions.

So I stood back and watched. As did Raven. As did Elvis. I noted the surprise on both Haladi's and Kalerecent's faces as it became clear that the rest of us weren't going to get involved. The poor, innocent fools.

Kalerecent was putting up a brave fight but was clearly not the match of Haladi. He was losing and it was at that point that our fears about Brian were confirmed. He started to attack Kalerecent as well. I have to admit that as much as I'd suspected that he'd succumb to Haladi's influence I had not expected it to happen so soon, or in such a drastic way. Attacking a paladin is flying your colours for everybody to see! Kalerecent was now doomed and it wasn't too long before he lay dead at Haladi's feet. There was an embarrassed silence during which none of us would look at each other. Haladi was embarrassed that he had been forced to reveal his true nature, even though the rest of us had suspected anyway. Brian was embarrassed for having so openly sided with Haladi, and the rest of us were embarrassed for having neither helped the winner or the loser - which is a pointless thing to be embarrassed about.

As an aside, which has nothing to do with my story, I have noted with interest that my scribe - writing these lines with much reticence - who is so quick to pass judgement on many of my actions in these tales, has never once passed comment on this incident. I know it is difficult for him. The world is a different place these days and the forces of good are perceived to be the norm. They have won many battles against evil since I was travelling the world, and today not helping a paladin would be considered an evil act. Things were a lot more balanced back them. Some people have already taken to calling the days when I was young the "dark times", not because the world was covered with evil but because people were more ambivalent about the age old war of good and evil. I refer to my peers as "balanced" in their views. Scholars today refer to us "unenlightened". They believe it is only through the dominance of good that people can "come into the light". It's all a load of balderdash as far as I am concerned, but this incident is a significant one that could get me into a lot of trouble today. I have omitted from my retelling for many years now, ever since the world changed, but now, with the protective shield of death almost upon me, I finally have the courage to omit nothing. My pupil and I have never discussed this because my acknowledging that I have to be careful telling this part of my story is a tacit understanding that the world is a different place to the world in which I made my decision to do nothing. In doing so I force to him to acknowledge that the world in which I made my decision is so far removed from the world that he knows now that he has no place to judge me. So we say nothing, and that is the greatest tragedy and the reason that the world of today is run by zealots.

I can also recollect some of the fiendish traps the we encountered in the Outer Vaults. Elvis sprung one that froze him solid and we could do nothing to thaw him out. This necessitated one of our many trips back to the surface for healing from the clerics of St.Cuthbert. Another trap I can distinctly remember was triggered by someone passing which caused three rays to shoot out. I remember this because Haladi used Brian to bypass the trap. He persuaded Brian to run through the trap "because he was quicker" and proceeded to follow Brian through before the trap could reset and deliver any damage to him. Poor old Brian - of all of the people whose influence he could fall under he succumbed to the maliciousness of Haladi.

It was while we were close to this trap that we finally ran into the Hag. She was invisible and attacking us with a wand of lightning. Fortunately my glitterdust spell countered her invisibility and we were able to deal with her, but not before she had badly injured Haladi and Brian, and poisoned Raven, reducing his strength to the point that he could barely stand. This resulted in another trip to the surface for restoration from the good clerics but at least we were reasonably confident that we were alone in the Outer Vaults.

Or so we thought....

You can imagine our surprise when we returned to the Outer Vaults to discover that Kalerecent's body had gone. Or rather, some of us were surprised as this meant that we were not as alone in the Outer Vaults as we had thought. Haladi and Brian's surprise verged on alarm because if the body was missing then there was a possibility that there evil deed might be unearthed by the church. Obviously the rest of us enjoyed the moment immensely. And it was only a foretaste of the enjoyment that we were get from Haladi being placed in a difficult situation.

Elvis heard some muffled voices and it was obvious that someone had organised a reception for us. We burst into the room where we had heard the voices and ruined this reception, discovering only a couple of Gnolls. We easily dealt with them and we were able to capture one to find out all about their presence in the Outer Vaults. He was only too willing to co-operative in order to save his life. His leaders were searching for an evil artefact called the black grail. He knew nothing more than that, but was able to tell us that the group searching for this grail was made up by a virtual menagerie of species, led, of all things, by a creature I had heard stories about called a Mind Flayer. Apparently these vicious creatures had powers to directly assault the mind. Given the generally unhinged nature of most of our minds this filled me with a sense of foreboding. We decided that the best thing to do was to immediately hunt them down. The last thing we wanted was to be ambushed.

This bold stratagem would have worked if the Ogre Magi that made up part of this other band hadn't been able to make all his colleagues invisible. Because of this they were able to get the drop of us and the first clue we had of their presence was when Haladi collapsed to the floor screaming and clutching his head. And there he was to stay as hideous creature after hideous creature assaulted us, with the Ogre Magi throwing spells and the Mind Flayer performing its strange mind tricks. We found ourselves facing one of our toughest battles with our most formidable fighter incapacitated on the floor. We were fortunate that Raven rose to the occasion. Not only was he a whirling dervish with his blade, delivering mighty blow after mighty blow, but he managed to resist all the mind tricks that Mind Flayer attempted. Some might argue that his mind was too feeble to feel the effect of the Mind Flayer, but not I. Personally I believe that our desperate situation had driven him into some kind of frenzy and he was truly elevated that day. I think it is fair to say that with Haladi incapacity by the Mind Flayer it was Raven who was our saviour.

Thanks to Raven we managed to defeat our assailants, but not decisively. The Mind Flayer and a strange Sphinx like creature were able to make good their escape and we spent the next couple of hours warily exploring the Outer Vaults expecting to bump into them around ever corner or behind every door. Fortunately we had killed the Ogre Magi so we were confident that if we did encounter them again then at least we would see them coming.

As it was we weren't to see them again for some time. Instead we found something much more interesting - a room full of weapons mounted in glass cases. Oh, you should have seen the boys start salivating at the prospect of these goodies. Haladi spotted a falchion and Raven had his eyes on a longsword. All of the weapons were covered with foul looking carvings and runes, which were not really of much concern to Haladi, but Raven didn't seem particularly bothered, and his eyes shone with greed as he looked at the longsword.

Raven was the first into the room and was soon smashing his way through the class case that contained his longsword. Much to his surprise, but not really to the surprise of anyone else, when he picked up the weapon he let out a cry of pain and promptly dropped it again. He looked pale and wan. In a shocked, almost indignant voice, he explained that he felt his very life force being drained from him when he touched the sword. I was sorely tempted to ask him what he had expected from a sword covered with extremely unpleasant images in a tomb created to hold the most evil items ever created. But I was dealing with an Elf who had put on the quite obviously cursed bracers that the boys found in the necromancer's tower on the Isle of Dread, so I knew I would be wasting my breath.

Haladi obviously had nothing to fear from the weapons but when he tried to enter the room there was a bright spark of energy and he found himself unable to enter! It appeared that a powerful magic prevented those who were truly evil from entering the armoury. A delightful comedy then ensued. Haladi begged, pleaded, cajoled, threatened, harassed, intimidated and bribed in his efforts to get one of us to remove the falchion from the room. He made all kinds of outlandish promises, and many types of sinister threats, stopping short of violence to persuade the rest of us to retrieve the falchion. Nothing doing. Raven was not going to risk touching any of the weapons again, and Elvis and I were not about to start liberating powerfully evil weapons. Even Brian was reluctant, and despite being on the receiving end of Haladi's foulest threats he remained resolute. I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised to see Brian standing up the ferocious and intimidating rage of Haladi. He did not baulk and we found ourselves laughing as Haladi started resort to ever more desperate and futile efforts to get the falchion. He tried shattering the glass with arrows; he tried breaking the glass with a polearm; he tried pushing the case over with a pole. In between our suppressed laughter we were trying to persuade him to leave, but he refused to be thwarted.

The humour soon left and we found ourselves getting increasingly bored. It was only when the rest of us physically started to leave the Haladi finally acknowledged the inevitable and rejoined us. He was in the foulest of moods and cursing as all. This only served to set us laughing again.

Unfortunately it looked it if Haladi might have the last laugh. Further in the Outer Vaults we discovered three mechanical constructs that obeyed the will of whoever had possession of the mummified hand Elvis had acquired from the House Vladaam. It will come as no surprise to you that Haladi had ended up in control of the hand. It made no difference to me, but Elvis clearly felt the hand belonged to him as he had been responsible for "liberating" it from the House Vladaam. Haladi could be very persuasive when necessary and Elvis had quickly lost control off the hand once joining our band. Thus Haladi was able to use these constructs to retrieve the falchion for him. He was extremely smug about the whole affair.

However, it was the rest of us that did indeed have the last laugh. No sooner than Haladi had the weapon which he taken such pains to secure in his grasp than it started talking to him - it was an intelligent weapon! We had all heard the stories about these amazing weapons, the evil variety of which invariably tried to dominate the will of their wielder. Even Haladi had the wit to realise that his intellect would be no match for the magical intellect of this weapon, and he now started devising elaborate schemes to lose the falchion. It had demanded one life a day when Haladi first picked it up and after several hours of exploring without encountering a soul the rest of us were getting extremely nervous. Like Haladi, we knew that a contest of wills between a hulking buffoon and a magic sword had only one possible outcome.

Thus we did all we could to help Haladi remove the weapon from his inventory and eventually we managed to get it sheathed and then dropped once we returned to the surface. The boys were only too happy to leave it where it was dropped, but I felt uncomfortable leaving such a powerfully evil item for anyone to pick up. I arranged for the church of St.Cuthbert to retrieve and deal with the weapon.

I found, and still find, the whole affair deeply amusing. Its irony is delicious. It encapsulated the old adage about being careful what you wish for perfectly. It also says a lot about the folly of greed. But at the time that was a lesson that I wasn't ready to learn.

The Outer Vaults of the Banewarrens were becoming increasingly crowded.

We had already met with two groups that we had discovered were sent by a group known as the Pactlords of the Quaan. The first, led by the Hag, we were confident we had destroyed. The remnants of the second, led by the Mind Flayer, we knew were still around somewhere. We were confident that there would be third. It was either in the Outer Vaults with us already, or would be soon.

For the sake of narrative I should perhaps mention that we knew nothing about the Pactlords of the Quaan apart from their name. We had found bone rings on several creatures we had encountered with the name Quaan inscribed, and the Gnoll we captured had given us their full sobriquet. However, we still knew nothing about them, except that they wanted this black grail. I am loathe to drop their name into my story at this point as I can furnish my readers with no further information as to their origins. However, they require a name now in order to distinguish them from the other groups that were scurrying around the Outer Vaults, so you will have accept the mystery of only knowing their name.

When a powerful beast grabbed hold of me while we were dealing with a particularly elaborate trap we thought that we had encountered the third group to be dispatched by the Pactlords of the Quaan. However, as soon the boys discovered that I had been grabbed by a huge werewolf and that woman commanding them was wearing the all too familiar purple livery of the House Vladaam we realised that new player had entered the game. Perhaps they finally noticed that the hand was missing!

Not only were the Outer Vaults getting crowed but it appeared that everyone wanted to get their hands on me. First it was the werewolf of House Vladaam and then it was a Phase Spider from the Pactlords of the Quaan, although I am getting slightly ahead of myself. Both groups seemed to be blinded by some kind of naive sexism that led them to believe that by kidnapping me the boys would agree to whatever demands they had. How foolish of them! I even managed to squeak out to the woman commanding the werewolves that she would gain nothing by kidnapping me!

It was perfectly clear that the House Vladaam wanted me alive because the werewolf could have quite easily torn me in two before I could have blinked. Despite its powerful grip it was careful not to harm me and this gave the boys the chance to come to my rescue. Brian, with lightening reflexes, grabbed hold of my leg and managed to prise me from the creature's grasp before it had been able to properly tighten its grip. I was stunned (not least of which because all the wind had been knocked out of me) and so was the werewolf, who seemed momentarily confused that his arms were now empty. Brian's speed truly was breath-taking to behold.

A fierce battle ensued in which the boys managed to slay one werewolf and badly injure the woman and the other beast before they fled. We now had wounded parties from the House Vladaam and the Pactlords of the Quaan wandering around the Outer Vaults after our blood. Things had the potential to turn very nasty. We could only hope that they bumped into each other and finished our work for us before they healed up and found us again!

The Phase Spider turned up later, with a female Dwarf. Fortunately I dodged its attempt to phase me to whatever foul plane it came from and I survived another kidnapping attempt intact, but it really was becoming quite tiresome. I felt like trying to contact the leaders of both factions, call them sexist fools, and explain that kidnapping me was not going to force Haladi to do anything. Needless to say we were unable to kill the Phase Spider before it shifted plane so we could add this to the veritable zoo that was now following our every move through this dreadful place. I'm sure you don't need me to describe just how tense things were in our band at this time.

However, inbetween these two failed kidnap attempts Elvis vanished. He simply wasn't there one morning when we were resting back in The Hungry Virgin Inn. At first we thought that he had been kidnapped (you will appreciate our line of reasoning). However, I was able to make some discrete enquiries with the Thieves Guild who informed me that he had left Parma on important Guild business and would not be back for some time. We were all a little worried about returning to the Banewarrens without a rogue to spot the fiendish traps that were guarding it. That was when Haladi introduced us to Roscoe, a friend of his who happened to be in town and who also happened to have some rogue skills. It was all a little too convenient for my liking, but the Thieves Guild had no real reason (that I knew off) to lie to me about Elvis' disappearance so I had to accept all of this as coincidence.

Coincidence or not I was wary of another of Haladi's "friends" joining our group. Roscoe was a pig. There is very little more I can say about him. He was good at what he did, but from the first meeting he was quite clearly utterly ruthless and utterly untrustworthy. We loathed each other straight away and this soon degenerated into open hatred. It was interesting to note that there was some tension between him and Haladi, and certainly a fair degree of competition. Over those first few days I came to the conclusion that he was also a follower of Grizit and they seemed to be competing for their master's favour. Of course this was just a theory. If Roscoe was in the same gang as Haladi then he didn't wear his symbol quite as brazenly as Haladi did.

Soon after returning to the Banewarrens we found ourselves confronting an air elemental. It was summoned when we opened a door to a sealed room that obviously contained something worth guarding. This particular encounter is worth retelling as Haladi and Raven both very nearly lost their lives fighting the elemental, but I include more to further my introduction of Roscoe and set his character firmly in the minds of my readers.

Initially our fight was going well. Despite the tremendous winds that the magical creature generated, which were deflecting the boy's blows and reducing the damage the creature was suffering, it was not really doing my damage to us. Then, suddenly, it focused into some kind of whirlwind form. I could feel the powerful winds buffeting us and I struggled to remain on my feet. The elemental then propelled itself with terrible speed and ferocity down the length of the corridor where we were fighting it. It smashed into me with incredible force, more powerful than any blow I had ever received from a weapon. I was swept off my feet and caught in its maelstrom, being smashed into walls, floor and ceiling. It was a terrifying sensation to be utterly helpless in the face of such powerful element.

I feared for my very life as I careered from one wall to another. I somehow managed to cast one of my spells which turned my form into gas. I was still a prisoner of this raging dervish but at least the environment was no longer harming me. I could just make out that Haladi and Raven were also engulfed in the winds and their faces varied between rage and terror and being trapped so helpless.

Brian and Roscoe were doing what they could to help. Brian managed to lasso a rope around Raven's leg but was not able break the hold of the ferocious whirlwind. Roscoe seemed to be trying to injure the creature with his bow fire but it was clear that he was doing more harm to Haladi and Raven, who, what with the damage they sustained from being buffeted by the winds and Roscoe's wayward archery, started to look badly injured. I swear the whirlwind turned misty red as its winds caught and dispersed their blood. Their cries for Roscoe to stop firing were either lost in the winds or fell on deaf ears. I was in no position to see clearly, my gaseous form at the mercy of the elemental, but I would have sworn that there was glee on Roscoe's face. As far as I could tell he was clearly enjoying himself.

But he had not reckoned with Haladi's Bracers of the Masochist. As he and Brian finally slain this terrible creature, Haladi and Raven where spat out, both on the very brink of death. I knew that Haladi's gift from his master would sustain him and I managed to get a potion of healing down Raven's throat before death could lay full claim on him. The surprise and disappointed on Roscoe's face when Haladi's Bracers glowed and he was restored from the very maw of death made his motivation clear for me to see. Here was a man who would never be happy playing second fiddle to anyone (pardon the musical metaphor).

This incident made it obvious to me that there was a lot more to Roscoe than met the eye. It was already perfectly clear that what did meet the eye was unpleasant and best avoided. I had no idea how this little drama was going to play out, but I was sure that it wasn't going to be pleasant.

It's quite hard to properly piece together the sequence of events that occurred after the failed kidnapping attempt by the Phase Spider. The memories are still fragmented inside of my head, and trying to string together any coherent narrative is difficult, particularly as I had no direct involvement in many of the key events. Everything unravelled so quickly. Ironically, if things hadn't unravelled I doubt I would now have the physical or spiritual freedom be recounting my memoirs.

The indirect cause was a note we found on the body of the Dwarf we killed who had attacked us with the Phase Spider. The direct cause, even more bizarrely, was a cart.

The note was written by one of the four members of the High Council of the church of St.Cuthbert, a certain Brother Heth, with whom we'd had some dealings. The incriminating note made it perfectly clear that he was a member of the Pactlords of the Quaan. None of us were particularly surprised as we all shared a similarly jaded view of the potential for corruption in religious orders. I was a little concerned that the boys might want to try something foolish like attempting to blackmail Heth. Fortunately they were happy for me to take this note to the remaining members of the High Council.

I ask my readers now for their trust. I have made many comments about the differences between the world we live in now and the one where my adevntures occurred. We now live in a dogmatic intolerant world and this has engendered naivety in many. What I am about to reveal may shock many of you, or indeed sound utterly incredulous. I will admit that we storytellers tend to exaggerate, but I am not about to exaggerate what happened - it simply happened as is.

The High Council of the church of St.Cuthbert were shocked. So shocked, in fact, that once they had verified the authenticity of the note they offered us a handsome sum to "deal" with the problem. To be blunt: they were prepared to pay us to kill Brother Heth.

I was shocked at the time, so I can imagine how this will affect many of my younger readers. My young scribe still stuggles with this section of my tale no matter how insistent or sincere I am. Again, I can only assure you that it is the literal truth that I recount with no embellishments. And I can guarantee that such a startling offer has not been confused in my old mind; something that significant retains crystal clarity.

I had thought that the church might take care of this problem themselves, but it quickly became clear that by using us nothing could be traced back to them. If anything went wrong then they were blameless and their image was untarnished. They appeared obsessed with their image, and this particular incident made me realise that many of those who call themselves "good" believe that they only remain so through the perception of others. You can forget about purity of soul or piety of being. As far as they are concerned they are "good" for only as long as their peers perceive them to be "good". It is a morally poor state of affairs and one of the main reasons that our world, dominated as it by those who call themselves "good", is filled with such intolerance.

Obviously, we had no problems with killing Brother Heth. He had caused us enough problems in the Banewarrens and the church were paying well. So far our excursions into the Banewarrens had not been financially rewarding and this was a golden opportunity.

Heth ran a small chapel of St.Cuthbert in the depths of the market district. A quick scout by Roscoe revealed that it was "closed for repairs" and that the cleric he had spoken to wore the bone ring of the Pactlords of the Quaan, as had many of our adversaries who now lay dead in the Banewarrens. It was all the proof we needed and we agreed to investigate the chapel that night with the intent of finding and killing Heth.

At some point between this decision and our meeting that night Brian disappeared. You will forgive me if I keep the explanation for his disappearance until the next chapter as is it really would kill my narrative! We had seen various people come and go in our little group so frequently that none of us were particularly surprised. I assumed that he was trying to break himself free from the all-pervading influence of Haladi, and that flight was his only option. In some ways I was quite glad for him, as I believed that meeting our group had been his undoing. I had no idea how correct I was. Having said that, I was a little suspicious as Haladi seemed to have some advance knowledge and had already recruited a replacement for Brian: a gruff and bitter Dwarven fighter called Hendell. He appeared to me to be utterly charmless and interested only in killing. I'm afraid I can offer you no further insights into Hendell for he was not even with our band a day before being killed.

The circumstances that led to his death hinged around the cart that I mentioned earlier. We were trying to gain entrance into Heth's chapel. Roscoe had managed to unlock a side door but the City Guard stumbled across us before we could enter. I managed to talk our way out of any trouble, but it alerted those inside to our presence. By the time I managed to get rid of the City Guard, Roscoe could clearly hear voices on the other side of the door. Haladi then came up with an outrageous plan of finding a cart in order for him to climb up to and smash through one of the windows which were located about eight feet from the ground. In fact he became fixated by this plan. So much so that he could not be persuaded to try the other, infinitely more sensible options being mentioned. After some heated discussion he was adamant that he was going to find a cart. I had had enough at this point and told him that I was not going to wait in the freezing Parma night and could be found in a nearby pub once he had "finished mucking around". Roscoe and Raven joined me and we had a very pleasant evening while Haladi and Hendell went on their way to "acquire" a cart.

As soon as they appeared in the pub an hour or so later we knew that something had gone terribly wrong. They had obviously been fighting, and, despite their best efforts to do otherwise, the unmistakable trace of blood was visible on their armour. They suggested that we come back tomorrow night as the streets were a little busy because they had had an altercation with the City Guard. My heart sank and I feared the worse, although this fear was tempered by the fact that killing a member of the City Guard was suicide in a law-abiding city like Parma. Surely they couldn't have been so stupid over something as trivial as a cart?

Alas, they could, and had. As we saw the wanted posters all over Parma the following morning we realised the full extent of their stupidity. Not only had they killed two members of the City Guard but they'd let a third escape with a clear description of his assailants! Haladi and Hendell had decided to hide out in the mansion above the Banewarrens when we left them the previous night, the rest of us returning to our lodging at The Hungry Virgin Inn. This, it transpired, was to be our last sighting of them.

The next we heard was later that day when rumours started circling of a terrible fight that had taken place as the City Guard tried to apprehend two murders. Several City Guard had been killed, many injured, but the two murderers had been slain and we could all sleep safe in our beds again. Haladi and Hendell were dead.

All I can say is that I was glad. I cared nothing for Hendell, and Haladi was clearly a very bad man. I was glad for myself that he was dead, and I was glad for our group. Without his malicious influence on the group things must surely get better.

What I had not appreciated was just how quickly this would manifest itself. Roscoe, Raven and myself spent a couple of minutes wondering what to do next, when Roscoe suddenly stood up, exclaimed that he needed the church of St.Cuthbert to redeem him, and promptly set off towards their cathedral! No sooner had I recovered from the shock of this outburst than Raven made exactly the same exclamation and set off after Roscoe!

What an earth was going on? It seemed that with Haladi dead everyone was having a crisis of conscience. I was staggered and left extremely confused by these two sudden exits.

Fortunately I gathered my wits quickly enough to realise that with Roscoe and Raven away at the church I had the perfect opportunity to recruit some people to the group that were of my choosing.

You may have heard this story so I will summarise it was briefly as possible.

The not-so-literal moral lessons that most people take from this story are that "it is hard-work that will lead a man to success", or that "you should not let greed overcome you". The rather more literal lesson of "be careful with who you make deals" is often overlooked in favour of these other lessons.

Haladi struck a deal with a demon lord that made him powerful. But it was only for a tantalisingly short period of time before his own evil overcame him. As soon as he accepted the bracers from Tiralandow he sealed his fate. He may have exacerbated the process by murdering the City Guard, but the consequences were inevitable. Those that followed him were also undone by their evil. Raven and Roscoe realised this with his death, which explains their sudden desperate urge for redemption. It was only when they returned that night that I was able to appreciate the whole story.

Roscoe was, as I had suspected, also a follower of Grizit. Apparently Grizit wanted the same black grail that the Pactlords of the Quaan were after. He had been sent to "assist" Haladi who, his superiors felt, was making a mess of the task by drawing too much attention to himself. This explained the conflict between Roscoe and Haladi. In order to prove his conviction to redeem himself Roscoe had spent the day at the church flagellating himself, and he had cut off the finger which bore the ring that bound him to Tiralandow. He returned a completely different Halfling and I marvelled at the transformation. He explained that Grizit was unlikely to release him from his service quite so willingly, but we were so moved by his impassioned conversion that we vowed to do all we could to help him.

Raven's attack of conscience was prompted by something much more shocking to me. He confessed that he had stood by and watched as Haladi and Brian killed Elvis! Apparently Elvis had threatened to reveal their activities to the church of St.Cuthbert and they'd been forced to silence him. Raven admitted that he did nothing because he was tempted by the powerful weapons we had found in the Banewarrens. Siding with Haladi would give him access to use those weapons. I was reeling from this shock when he went on to reveal that the murder of Elvis had taken in place in broad daylight in front of many witnesses and that, not surprisingly given these circumstances, the Thieves Guild, to which Elvis belonged, had quickly got wind of this. They immediately made demands for money from the three of them or else they would be made to pay for Elvis' death. I can see now why Tiralandow was so upset at the mess that Haladi was getting himself into - he had managed to get both the law and the criminal underworld after him! Raven explained that Brian had tried to flee from Parma to escape all of this only to be caught and killed by the Guild. Raven had received redemption from the church for his sins in lieu of some future service. I was shocked and disappointed to think that he had sunk so low as to participate in the murder of a member of our band, actively or otherwise, but if the church was prepared to forgive them the least I could do would be tolerate his presence in our band. We were all he had so far from home. Our influence upon him had been a negative one and in some small way I felt partially responsible. I was determined that our influence on him should now be a positive one, although I made it perfectly clear that the Thieves Guild was his problem to resolve. He alone was responsible for this particular consequence of his actions.

While they had been throwing themselves on the mercy of St.Cuthbert I had found two more brave souls prepared to join our band. I had to be very careful in explaining that the first thing we would be doing would be to break into a chapel of St.Cuthbert and kill a priest, but they persisted in my explanation and eventually understood all the facts.

The first was a Human ranger/fighter called Peregrine. He had travelled quite extensively and knew the land extremely well. He had a love of travel and really did not care what the circumstances were that took him somewhere, it was the exploration of new parts of the world that gave him the greatest pleasure. He was a simple and humble man, and was instantly likeable and had an aura of trustworthiness. I trusted him from the start and revelled in the prospect of once again adventuring with people I could trust.

Sue was not, as you might expect Human, or indeed female, but a male Dwarven fighter. Apparently his parents had shackled him with such a name in order to make him strong. Indeed, his life had been one trial after another as a result. But he had endured them all and in doing so emerged remarkably good-humoured. Hendell had loved killing whereas Sue loved fighting, the distinction being obvious. Like many Dwarves he had a love of gold and was quite happy to join our band in the hope of earning more.

In the process of just over a day I had gone from travelling with a group of evil murderers and killers to travelling with a warm group of friends with whom I was prepared to place my trust. I would never fully trust Roscoe and Raven as their characters had revealed them to be weak and easily influenced. If it had happened once then it could happen again. Nevertheless they were genuinely repentant and I was prepared to give them a chance.

I will ask one more indulgence of my readers. In order that I can concentrate on the next important chapter of my story I ask that you allow me to provide only the briefest of mentions of our attack on Brother Heth's chapel. The attack was stunningly successful. We surprised and overwhelmed all those defending it and dispatched Heth with relative ease. Our injuries were minor and we all felt that this was a good start for our new band. Roscoe found an intelligent dagger that gave us a lot of information into the background of the Pactlords of the Quaan. However, of most interest was the discovery of a magic portal that the dagger revealed led to the home plane of the Pactlords. We now had an opportunity to take the fight directly to the Pactlords and it was not an opportunity that we were going to miss!

The home plane of the Quaan was a desolate grey place, singularly devoid of any colour. It makes it very difficult to recall in my mind. I can remember particular creatures and my fellow companions with vivid detail, but the actual backdrop against which events were played out lack definition and colour. They are merely shades of grey. I'm sure there are stranger planes to visit and at the time everything seemed normal, just greyer, but this has resulted in some very strange memories being formed: fighting a Beholder against a grey backdrop; rescuing some slaves against a featureless background. It is quite disorientating.

There were only three locations on the home plane of the Quaan, none of which I can recollect. Each was the home to particularly nasty creature, two of which I never discovered the name of. The Beholder we met in the second location (some kind of tower? I really wish I could fix my memory on these details). The first we encountered on an island in a lake and attacked us from the water. It was a bizarre cross between a turtle and a shark. It meant it had formidable armour and some vicious teeth. It also delivered a nasty steam based attack that almost roasted poor Sue in his armour! The last creature we encountered in a manor house and was a cross between a dog and a dragon. It was a very strange beast, and an extremely tough opponent. I believe that these were the three leaders of the Pactlords of the Quaan but obviously there were also assorted minions residing on the home plane who made our life difficult. There was a particularly nasty encounter with a Harpy who was armed with a powerfully magically bow. She was so lethal with this bow that she actually killed Roscoe with one shot. The arrow went straight through his heart with a ferocious roar that was louder than any sonic based spell I had ever cast, and he fell down dead in front of our startled eyes! Raven managed to finish the Harpy off, not out of any particular thought of revenge for the death of Roscoe but more because he didn't like the idea that someone might be more powerful with a bow! It was a fierce battle of wits and of arrows, as they were locked in a deadly game to find just who was the best. Fortunately for us it was Raven, although it was sad that we paid such a great price for our victory.

Nevertheless, there was a certain element of relief as we suspected that at some point Grizit was going to make a claim on Roscoe for renouncing his allegiance. With Roscoe's mortal body now very definitely mortal, that claim would be made on his soul. Fortunately that would not involve us. Still, I shuddered to think about what would happen to Roscoe's soul. It was bad enough that it belonged to a demon lord, but surely its eternal fate was even worse because he had tried to renounce that claim while he lived. I am not particularly religious or superstitious, but the very thought sent a shiver down my spine.

However, as nasty as all these encounters were, it was trying to defeat the Beholder that brought us so much pain. The battle actually raged over two days, with both sides needing to rest in between. If it truly did take place in a tower then I believe that we controlled the bottom of the tower, where the entrance would have been located, and the Beholder controlled the top. I do recollect a vast grey chamber, the ceiling of which was over two hundred feet above our heads. It was in this space that the epic battle raged, with Sue and Peregrine using their Boots of Flying to fight the creature, while the rest of us used missile fire from the ground. The Beholder did untold damage to us, including opening it's giant eye to negate all magic and sending Sue or Peregrine plummeting towards the ground, but we were giving as good as we got. By the end of the first day the beast was covered with countless arrows and slash marks from the flying boy's melee weapons, but we were hurting just as badly. We had already lost Roscoe and by the time the Beholder retreated both Sue and Peregrine stood at death's door. Fortunately the church of St.Cuthbert had offered us healing potions at a reduced rate but we got through most of them after that first day's fighting with the Beholder, and we were desperately worried about how much longer we were going to survive on this plane.

The following day's fighting was even more vicious because both sides acknowledged that today there would be resolution, and this was a fight to death. The Beholder was still badly injured from the previous day's fighting and we took heart that we had been able to heal more damage than it had. However, this was immediately dashed when the Beholder hit Peregrine with its death ray and he fell down dead before our very eyes! This was a real blow, and now we were now down to three. I was also sad to lose Peregrine. Although I never had the time to get to know him very well, I felt an instinctive bond with him as someone I could trust, and I had looked forward to the opportunity of travelling with him and getting to know him. It didn't seem particularly fair that this easy-going and warm individual should end up with an anonymous grave on an anonymous plane. Alas, we cannot choose our fates and it is for others to rue them.

Fortunately this transpired to be a last gasp tactic from the Beholder. It was more badly injured than we realised and a series of excellent arrow shots from Raven and Sue finally slayed the foul creature. You cannot begin to imagine our relief! We had faced death in worse predicaments, notably the attack on the Gnoll stockade on the Isle of Dread, or being trapped in the underwater cavern on Angler Isle, but there was something about dying on this utterly featureless plane that was particularly horrifying. It is an irrational horror because death has no concern for location, but nevertheless I felt a relief at being alive that did not match the risk we had just faced.

It was while exploring the top of what I assume I remember correctly as a tower that we discovered the prisoners. There were two of them and they were extremely pleased to be released from their hideous bondage in this grey world. We quickly assimilated both of them into our band. Tanglebeard, as the name suggests, was an unruly Dwarven fighter, full of gruff charm and always looking out for an opportunity to brawl. He and Sue bonded immediately and were like long-lost brothers, despite never having met. I think that the meeting was more emotional that it might normally have been because Sue was stunned to find a fellow Dwarf on this desolate plane and Tanglebeard couldn't believe his good fortune at being rescued, to say nothing of being rescued by a group that included another Dwarven fighter! Quarion, while slightly less emotional, was nevertheless happy to be rescued. He was a Human ranger/rogue who specialised with a bow. Indeed, his skill with the bow was easily on par with Raven's and this generated some tension between the two. Alpha-males are not confined to species, and both he and Raven were determined to prove themselves as "the bowman" of the group. Fortunately this was to remain good-natured and in some ways spurned them both on to perform incredible feats of skill with their weapon of choice.

Not only did trip to the home plane of the Quaan succeed in removing their threat to us but the dagger that Roscoe found also revealed that is was actually one part of a powerful artefact called the Staff of Shards. There were two other shards, one of which we found in the manor house. When all three were combined the final item was the only way of destroying the key to the Banewarrens, the mummified hand of Danar Rotansin. We now had a way to permanently seal the Banewarrens. All we had to two was find the last piece of the Staff of Shards, which was hidden somewhere in the Banewarrens. Our trepidation at this task was greatly diminished because we knew that the Phase Spider, or the Mind Flayer, or the Hierosphinx, would not longer be a threat as we had defeated the Pactlords of the Quaan. With their masters dead we felt confident that they would abandon their quest in the Banewarrens. Unfortunately, we were so relieved about this that we completely forgot that there was still an assassin and some Werewolves from the House Vladaam waiting for us....

The actual final encounter with the group from the House Vladaam was, from a storytelling perspective, very anti-climatic. However, before I come to that I need to mention the Sword of Truth. Or rather, the Sword of Lies.

Upon our return from the home plane of the Quaan we returned to the church of St.Cuthbert, ostensibly to collect the money for killing Brother Heth and to purchase some more healing potions. They however had one more proposition for us, that, like all their other propositions, paid extremely well. They discovered that a powerful artefact called the Sword of Truth was hidden in the Banewarrens. This was a powerful tool for the forces of good but had had an evil corrupting magic placed over it that had turned it into the Sword of Lies, which is how it came to be stored in the Banewarrens. They believed they could remove the corrupting magic and restore it to the Sword of Truth. To be perfectly honest, we weren't really that interested in the details. All we needed was a description of the Sword and some money in our pockets.

This achieved, we returned to the Banewarrens and were immediately ambushed by the woman and two werewolves from the House Vladaam. This time, however, we fought for the powers of good. More significantly this time we had two formidable and utterly reckless Dwarven fighters in the group. The assassin had planned on the Werewolves being a distraction while she, magically concealed in an invisibility spell, picked us off with her assassin skills. She had not reckoned on my glitterdust spell making her visible to us, or on the two Dwarves totally ignoring the Werewolves, despite being viciously slashed by their claws, and concentrating their attacks on her. It was an inspired tactic by Tanglebeard and Sue because she soon lay dead. With her gone the two Werewolves were relatively easy to dispatch. Of course their casual disregard of being hacked by the Werewolves was aided by the veritable lake of healing potions that they both carried. In fact my abiding memory of this final section of the Banewarrens is of Tanglebeard and Sue drinking potion after potion after each encounter to restore their health. It still makes me shudder to think about the sheer quantity of liquid they consumed!

It wasn't just ferocious beasts that were responsible for Sue or Tanglebeard needing to quaff another potion. They were perfectly able to harm themselves, not being assisted by their sheer lack of mobility. There was one instance where our path was blocked by a seemingly bottomless chasm. There was a powerful anti-magic shield in the area which negated the enchantment in the Boots of Flying that we had equipped both our Dwarves with in order to maximise their mobility. To the end of my days I will never forget the sight of Sue and Tanglebeard, clad head-to-toe in full plate armour and weapons at the ready, gracefully gliding through the air in order to attack a foe. It was a ballet of violence and the juxtaposition of this idea never left me. I had seen plenty of flying creatures in my travels, but there was something about seeing two such solidly earth-bound Dwarves whirling in the air that continued to enchant me.

Nevertheless, it was back to the old fashioned rope to get across this chasm and Sue and Tanglebeard's lack of grace and dexterity became painfully apparent once they were back on the ground. Raven, Quarion and I crossed the chasm with the use of a rope with relative ease, but for the Dwarves this was a proposition tougher than any foe that had faced in combat. A hand would slip here, or a foot fail to connect properly there, and they would lose their hold on the rope we had spanning the chasm and swing, with a sickening thud against the wall of the chasm on the safety rope we had secured to them. This then meant a tough climb up the safety rope to the top of the chasm and another attempt to crawl underneath the rope we had across the gap. This invariably resulted in another failed attempt. I have no idea how long it did take them to cross, but it felt like a lifetime. It must have felt even longer for Sue and Tanglebeard who finally made it across to our side of the chasm battered black and blue from being slammed into the wall of the chasm so many times.

On another occasion I had used a magical headband that allowed me to teleport over a short distance myself and anyone holding my hand in order get passed a huge and terrifying looking golem that guarded a series of chambers. Even Sue and Tanglebeard were wary about tackling this golem. Thus deprived of our rogue, Quarion, we had little choice but to bash down the heavy stone door that barred entrance to the final chamber in this particular series of rooms. The door was trapped with a particularly nasty sonic spell that sent a deafening roar through anyone close enough to the door. Despite the fact that they were taking terrible damage from this trap every time their shoulders connected with the door, Sue and Tanglebeard continued to pound at it until they had forced their way through. Their single-mindedness was staggering. Needless to say this resulted in bout of quaffing potions, but their efforts had not been in vain because instead the chamber was the Sword of Lies.

Or rather, inside the chamber was "a" Sword of Lies. There were actually eight of them and when Sue went to pick one up it disappeared, but not before giving him a powerful electrical shock. We had visions of requiring even more healing potions (and we are getting a little low at this point) in order to find the right sword when Tanglebeard confidently proclaimed that "number six is always the real one". I have absolutely no idea about the origination of this theory, but he left Sue and I completely speechless when he grabbed the sixth sword and all the remaining seven images disappeared - he'd picked the right one! Perhaps this was just one of those occasions when luck is on one's side, but the sheer confidence with which Tanglebeard made his statement and took the sixth sword had me wondering for many years after the event.

We now had only one task left to complete: locate the last part of the Staff of Shards. With that done the Banewarrens could be resealed with the mummified hand, and the hand permanently destroyed by the staff.

Needless to say the last part of the Staff was in the very last chamber of the Heart of the Banewarrens. The Heart of the Banewarrens (as I later discovered was the name for this final section ) was actually a massive shaft, up which we had to ascend to find the last part of the Staff of Shards. It was located at the very top where we found ourselves having to fight two Dragons (fortunately not at the same time!), the second being in circumstances which form the strangest experience I ever had in all of my years adventuring.

We met the first Dragon about half-way up the shaft and it was Blue and mad. At least I think it was mad, my knowledge of Dragon psychology being limited, to say the least. It had been trapped inside a gem in some kind of tiny extra-planar bubble for many thousands of years. That would certainly make me a little stir-crazy and I assuming this would be no different for a Dragon. In fact, when I released it all it wanted to do was to return to its prison in the gem, which implies to me that it wasn't well in the head. But, as usual, I am getting slightly ahead of myself.

We were actually almost similarly doomed ourselves. An innocuous looking door we tried to open was actually trapped to send all but the most resolute of minds to join the Blue Dragon in its extra-planar cage. There was no way to escape the gem once inside, and those so trapped could only be released, as I discovered, by someone from the outside donning the necklace into which the gem had been set. I realise that I am getting ahead of myself here but I need you to understand the very real risk we faced of all being trapped inside the gem for eternity. As it was my mind was elsewhere at the time we opened the door. I wouldn't describe my mind as particularly resolute, but for some time I'd been wrestling with rhymes for "Dwarf" for song I was composing. I don't know if this was the reason that I was able to resist the trap. Whatever it was, it is fair to say without any hint of melodrama that if I hadn't resisted we would have all been doomed. This is because none of the boys were able to resist. One minute Tanglebeard had been about to open a door and the next I found myself alone in the Banewarrens. This was not a pleasant surprise, I can assure you, and I'm not too proud to admit that I panicked for a couple of minutes before I was able to pull myself together.

While I was busy panicking unbeknownst to me the boys were fighting for their lives with the Blue Dragon, which didn't look kindly on interlopers in his cell. I seriously thought of fleeing the Banewarrens, but the thought of having to journey so far back alone gave me the courage to enter the room behind the now open door to at least see if any of the boys were there. Instead I found the gem. As I gazed covetously at it trying to appraise its value (yes, yes, I'm not particularly proud of this) much to my surprise I could just make out the tiny figures of the boys locked in a terrible battle with a Blue Dragon. Without a second thought I donned the necklace to suddenly find the boys and an extremely confused looking Blue Dragon in the chamber. Although I had no idea what would happen when I put the necklace on, it is fair to say that I hadn't expected that! Fortunately neither had the Dragon and finally being released from his cage confused him. He demanded to be put back, and if I knew how to put him back then I would have done so. In the absence of this option the boys wisely took advantage of the Dragon's confusion to finish him off, and as it lay dead our feet they breathed a collective sigh of relief. Each of them had been terribly mauled by the beast and its dread breath attack, and had been certain whilst in the gem that they were doomed. I have never been quite so enthusiastically welcomed by any audience anywhere compared to the reception I got from boys once they realised that they were safe! You'll forgive my vanity when I say that I felt extremely good with myself in the face of the praise and hugs I received from them that day. Needless to say, I was as relieved to see them as well because I was no longer alone in the Banewarrens. It was a particularly sweet moment that I still cherish.

The second Dragon was a Red one and was accompanied by a fearsome flying demon know as a Vrock, the pair of which were guarding the last part of the Staff of Shard. You might find yourself wondering how we managed to defeat two such formidable foes. The answer is that we weren't fighting them directly but instead with a massive automaton that we were controlling.

I did hint at this being one of my strangest experiences.

For no good reason that any of us could ever fathom, Danar Rotansin, had created a giant magical automaton at the very top of the Heart of the Banewarrens that was controlled by helmets set around a table. The table was located in the last room in the Banewarrens while the automaton existed in what we assumed to be another extra-planar space. It had the power to teleport the last Shard to the table. There were six helmets at the table, each controlling a different function of the automaton: both arms, both legs, the chest and the head. Anyone donning a helmet could see through the automaton’s "eyes" and could communicate with anyone else wearing another helmet. We were clearly in the presence of magic more powerful than I knew existed, but it did all seem a bit pointless. It must have taken years to construct all of this wehre something simpler would have been a lot more effective. I have absolutely no idea how the Red Dragon and Vrock ended up with the automaton.

Once we had worked out how to co-ordinate ourselves in order to get the automaton functioning then dealing with the Red Dragon and the Vrock was relatively straight forward. The automaton was equipped with a staggering variety of weapons and had a self-repair system. This truly was the strangest experience! Up until this moment I had always been able to make sense of the world. As someone who had dabbled with magic I understood that even the most powerful magic (I believed) had a limit on what it could outside of that sense that governed the world. This automaton and the power behind fell completely beyond my comprehension, and, above all else, made no sense to me. Consequently I found the experience quite unsettling and I was greatly relieved once we left the Banewarrens for the very last time with the completed Staff of Shards.

I can't say I was sorry to see the last of the Banewarrens. It was a strange, unsettling, and unpleasant place and it contained too many tragedies for me. I was pleased to leave there knowing that I would never have to return. At the same time, I was a little sad because we had all talked about what we wanted to do next and it was clear that this would the last outing of our little band. The two Dwarves wanted to return to their people, as did Raven who desperately missed his tribe on the Isle of Dread. Quarion wished to travel some more and explore this wonderful world. I had had enough of travelling for the time being and I wanted to spend some time in my beloved Parma without anybody trying to kill me.

Thus it was that we gave the key and the Staff to Jevicca Norr to complete that arrangement, and gave the Sword of Lies to the church of St.Cuthbert to complete our other arrangement. We spent out last night together drinking and telling stories. I suspect that I could have found this a lot sadder and more emotional than I did. As it was I had only known Sue, Tanglebeard, and Quarion for a week or so, and Raven and I had never hit it off. If I was sad, it was not to be parted from my current companions but it was to be forever parted from the friends that I had lost, Pernicus, Dweazel and Gywdion. It all seemed so long ago since we had got drunk together in Parma and agreed to buy a ship between us. We had faced many dangers together and they had paid the ultimate price but I had somehow survived. There was little comfort in this because I survived to world without them in it, and this to me was a source of great sadness.

But I to admit that the future looked bright, so I prevented myself from getting too maudlin that night. We all parted on good terms, even Raven and I managed to find some kind words for each other. My beautiful Parma awaited me. And I had some incredible stories to tell....