From: Mike Sander <344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Date: Saturday, 14 Nov 1992 23:23:36 EST
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [DQ] Week 14: A Life at Stake

[ADMIN: Major thanks to Andrea Evans for help with this. Not that most of
 my stuff doesn't have Andrea and/or Stephen's "imprint", but this post
 deserves special mention. As you'll see WHY...]

The questers are dragged one by one into a single large cell, floored and
walled in black stone. They are shoved until they stand side by side with
their backs to the wall, facing a low dais where the Dark Master is seated.
He smirks at them and waves a hand in a complex, but somehow dismissive
gesture. Loops of force lash out from his fingertips. Twisting through the
air like electric serpents, they twine themselves round the questers' wrists
and ankles, then arc to the nearby wall, forming bonds that none of them
could break. Lord Raven surveys the effect, and his leer widens fractionally.
He snaps his fingers and another figure appears, moving from the shadows behind
his throne and standing at his side. Lancos. Something in his wide, round eyes
is vaguely reminiscent of the disk of the medallion he wears: they share its
hard, metallic glittering.

Lord Raven turned to Lancos, waving negligently at the line of chained
questers. "Look at them, my servant. Pathetic, misguided fools, one and all.
Still clinging, despite all the facts, to the most ludicrous illusion of them
all: 'Virtue Must Triumph'" he quotes, smirking in pious mockery before
continuing. "I wish to ... eridicate this illusion from their minds. I have
chosen _you_ to assist me in this..."

"What do you wish, Master?" says Lancos thickly, his eyes riveted on Raven's
face.

"Choose one of them. And kill him. Now."

The man's mind resisted the entire concept. And the medallion was not too
happy about it either. But it was a matter of survival, so the choice WOULD
be made.

'Valgar'? The bearded man had some beast dwelling inside him -- similar to
the fighter's situation. Best to let him live, allow the force within to
have the same chance at manifestation the medallion had had.

'ShockWave'? An artifact controlling a mortal -- the situation was too close.
Also, the medallion had noticed the sword acting more to its liking recently,
and could not ignore it. And finally, destroying ShockWave's body would be
essentially killing TWO lives -- not what was wanted.

'William'? The mage appeared the weakest of the party, and thus perhaps the
WORST choice for a sacrifice. Not doubting this to be a test of threat
assessment as well as loyalty, the medallion moved on.

'Alita'? The succubus certainly was a possible target. But there was the
matter of her note, claiming Lancos had 'responsibility' for her child. Sure,
she told lies more often than truths, but the medallion could not chance her
death if the words held validity.

'Kadrys'? A violation of nature, much like the succubus. Also, the closest
thing to Lord Raven. Outwardly, he would be pleasing the Dark Master, while
inwardly it would show that but for a twist of fate, the forthcoming blow
would come against its "master". The man's mind gave no resistance to the
choice -- that was an interesting sign. The medallion knew that after night,
it would regain the full control it had long desired.

Lancos nods, having made his choice. "And now for your weapon." Raven says
with a smile, sending a ball of force into Lancos' hands. The force seems
to react to Lancos' will, slowly splitting, the left half into a stake as
long as a sword -- its splintered wood hacked to a point, and the right into
a heavy mallet. "Thank you, Lord." Lancos says, issuing a small bow. Raven
leers avidly and leans forward to watch.

Lancos turns back to face Kadrys. The vampire's pupils dilate and blood-red
radiance burns in their depths. "Lancos!" he cries suddenly, trying to catch
him by surprise, get him to glance at his face, so he can use his gaze to try
to wrest control of Lancos' mind from the medallion, try to drain his life
energy, try even to possess his body, anything, _anything_. But Lancos is quite
insensible to the sudden sound of his name. His eyes are fixed with empty,
unwavering fascination on the centre of Kadrys' chest. He reaches out with
calculated slowness, and positions the point of the stake with infinite care,
digging it into the skin over Kadrys' heart. "Lancos! _Look!_ It's _me_!"
Kadrys cries again as Lancos raises the hammer.

At this, Lancos' dreamlike, lopsided grin widens. "I know it is. I chose you."
he murmurs. The hammer pauses at the top of its arc, wavering for a moment
while the watchers hold their breath. Then, at last it falls in a rush, strikes
with a dull thud. The point of the stake stabs into Kadrys' chest, wrenching a
moan from him, though no blood comes from the wound. Again and again, faster
and harder, the arm wielding the hammer rises and falls. The second time,
there is a crunch of ribs being crushed apart, almost drowned out by the
sounds of the vampire's pain. With the third blow, the point of the stake
tears into Kadrys' heart. Blood bursts from the wound, bathing Lancos in
vivid red, as Kadrys throws back his head and screams in mortal agony. The
sound, impossibly loud and piercing, augers into the questers' skulls. The
cry is punctuated by more blows as Lancos drives the stake further and further
through Kadrys' body, finally forcing the point between the stones at his back.

At last, the terrible scream fades into silence. Kadrys slumps forward, his
head falling onto the shaft that stakes his body upright against the wall.
His face is twisted in a rictus of torment. Behind him, blood flows down the
wall to join the pool on the floor, which slowly crawls outward from his feet,
silently encroaching further across the room.

Lancos steps back toward Raven's dais, his eyes distant and abstracted behind
the mask of blood on his face. Raven studies the scene of carnage like a
butterfly collector contemplating an exceptionally beautiful specimen. He
dwells on the faces of the surviving questers with particular relish. At last
he turns toward Lancos, stretching out a hands and stroking a white line along
the man's wet cheek. Raven licks the blood off his finger, savouring its taste
like a rare vintage. Slowly, he smiles.

"You have done well, my servant. You may go to your quarters."
Lancos bows low, murmuring "Thank you, Master."
He leaves without a word or a glance toward the questers.

Raven turns to face them, saying "I will leave you for now. I go to finish my
preparations for your ... official welcome into my power. But I trust you won't
be lonely, not with the company of your late friend there... Perhaps his fate
has shown you what you put at _stake_ when you refused me..."
Laughing to himself at his loathsome mockery of humor, Raven leaves the
questers to an endless period of waiting, timed only by the slowing drip from
the end of the stake, oppressively loud in the stillness.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael Sander 344lwkc@cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu
SAQ: "In the middle of the heart/Straight through the heart"-Dio