Through a thicket burst the ragged figure of Brisid, and a few seconds later, over a dozen ogres hungry for blood. The elf ran around a boulder and found himself on a ledge overlooking a ravine. The ogre pack formed a semi-circle that surrounded him, blocking any route of escape. The elf heard the dreaded cackling that had been torturing him for many weeks. Ebonstarr emerged from the group of monsters to face Brisid.
"Aw, my puppet, don't you want to stay with me?" taunted the evil priestess.
"I am not your puppet. . ." began Brisid.
"Ahh, but you are. Have you noticed that your life of late has been. . . uncomfortable? I always seem to hunt you down, and you escape, just to be captured by me again, and you flee again, and I find you always. You are my puppet. Lloth has given me control over your soul."
"You have no control over me, drow scum," the elf retorted.
"Don't believe me? Here's the whole story, puppet. All this torture I can give you because you are actually sleeping. Your friends are trying so desperately to save your pitiful soul, they've enlisted the aid of people you've never even met before. They think a simple poison is keeping you ill. The final result? An antidote they believe will nullify Lloth's magic. Insignificant fools!"
Ebonstarr noted with elation how she had confused her victim.
"Trickery! You lie. You will not find me again. I will find you and repay your misdeeds tenfold!" Brisid declared.
"So you think. Remember, puppet, it will never be over. Go ahead, jump off the cliff. Or better yet, let me help."
Brisid backed away from the drow and she conjured a fireball. As he leapt off the cliff , the fireball collided into his back showering him with sparks and setting his clothes ablaze. He watched as the water flew up to him. He closed his eyes. . . and landed on a dusty hardwood floor.
The shaken elf opened his eyes and discovered he was in a small room with a sleeping pallet, desk and chairs. He tried to recall his dreams, but they faded too quickly. He shook his head as if to clear his mind and looked around.
Clothes and his weapons sat in a chest in the corner. A putrid scent brought tears to his eyes. He found the source was a paste that had been smeared on his back. Brisid heard a commotion outside the door, so he dressed and buckled on his sword. As soon as he opened the door, bright sunlight filled the room, blinding him. The weak elf raised a hand to block the morning sun and saw a figure on horseback bearing down on him. Brisid barely lifted his sword in time to block a blade the figure had swung. The elf turned around to identify the rider.
"Skeleton. And a night-mare," the elf spat as he watched the rider turn around for another pass. The skeletal rider picked up speed to chop down Brisid, who watched calmly and raised his hands.
The undead monster heard the elf's words, "bragallach tel'llach," just before its bones were scattered by a fireball.
With the immediate threat destroyed, Brisid looked around and saw many small battles raging around him. One, he noticed with interest, included what appeared to be a small, flying sky-blue colored cat!
"Now I've seen it all," Brisid concluded.
He started towards the unusual battle when movement at the edge of a forest caught his eye. More than ten skeletal riders leapt from the trees waving their swords and began attacking townspeople.
Continue to Chapter 15