The hallway leading away from the sitting room had several doors
exiting it.  While everyone was keeping a keen eye out for any unusual
occurrences, Tibulus selected one of the doors in the hallway, turning the
handle with his hand and then kicking it open, only to find himself looking
into a storage chamber with no inhabitants.
     Behind him, the door in the opposite wall was thrown open and a pair
of creatures rushed out.  They were almost identical in appearance, an
appearance which was definitely demonic.  Each had a pair of curved horns,
a long tail, small bat-like wings, and a cruel visage which seemed to be a
deformed caricature of a humanoid face.  Their flesh was the brownish-grey
color of clay, broken only by their dimly glowing eyes.  These, obviously,
where the magical creations of Vastor, which he had created with the tome
the adventurers had been charged to recover.
     Emitting cruel, inarticulate calls of glee, the two demonic beings
launched themselves at the intruders.  The first one reached for Graynyr
and a crackling burst of electricity leapt from its hand and shot up the
half-elf's side, eliciting a groan of pain from him.  The other animated
clay form reached for Tibulus, who twisted and spun away from the attack,
having noticed the affect on Graynyr.  Carrying through with his spin,
Tibulus smashed his enchanted blade into the side of the clay thing.  He
immediately followed up his attack, lofting his sword above his head and
bringing it down in a two-handed blow which cleaved deep into the thing's
skull, slitting it to the neck.  A demonic wail faded into the distance as
the thing's body lost its cohesion and sank into a mound of inert clay.
     Graynyr has also managed to defeat the demonic creation attacking him,
striking its clay body in several places with his sword until he had
completely dismembered it and reduced it to gobs of damp clay splattered
across the floor and wall.
     "Vicious things," ventured Arahna.  "But at least we are now certain
that they are easily destroyed."
     "Perhaps," commented Tibulus, "but recall that both Graynyr and I
wield powerful magical weapons.  We have no guarantee that ordinary weapons
will even affect them."
     She conceded this as they checked to make certain that there were no
other of these foul creations in the room from which these two had emerged.
As they started down the passage, three more of the clay demons burst from
one of the doors farther along the hallway and charged the group.  One of
the clay thing's claws proved remarkable hard and sharp for what appeared
to only be animated clay, and they easily ripped into Tibulus's flesh.
Those in the front of the group were battered rather nastily in the ensuing
skirmish.  One of the demonic things was felled after a few moments of
intense battle.
     About the time that the first thing was destroyed, Arahna noticed the
doors at the end of the corridor opening without any apparent cause.
Backing off from the battle to investigate, lest another opponent emerge
from the doors, Arahna was able to hear a disembodied voice chanting what
sounded to be a spell.  But when she started to call a warning to her
companions, a greenish mass of billowing, nauseous vapors started forming
from the air in the passage.
     Considering it unwise to be near the forming miasma, Arahna dove past
Tibulus, who was busy finishing off the last of the animated clay monsters.
Arahna dodged towards the open doors at the end of the hall, where she
thought she had head the voice chanting.
     The other companions, meanwhile, were rendered incapacitated by the
noxious vapors.  All, that is, except for Evrin -- who wisely followed
Arahna towards the open doors -- and Dwarkin, who retreated towards the
opposite end of the hallway, where he raised his arms and summoned the
forces of nature for some magic of his own.  The billowing sorcerous vapors
rapidly condensed, forming a greenish liquid on the floor and walls under
Dwarkin's druidical influence, freeing his incapacitated companions from
its fumes.
     But magic that was not Dwarkin's own quickly followed up with a
twisted aberration of nature when a storm of hail formed from nowhere,
pelting Dwarkin and his fellows.  Only Arahna and Evrin were far enough
forward to avoid the flurry of icy pellets which struck their coughing and
retching companions.  These two had made it through the doors at the end of
the passage where they found themselves in a large and comfortably
decorated living chamber.
     There was no sign of anyone in this chamber.  However, as Arahna and
Evrin entered the chamber, a disembodied voice called out mockingly: "So,
you would challenge me, little elf?  And what's this?  Is it some
inconsequential wench from the Scarlet Moon?  Come to whisk me off to
justice, eh?  Heh, heh.  You probably couldn't even stand against a single
kobold, let alone one so great as I.  It speaks little for your Order if
you were the best they could find."
     Her eyes flat with suppressed rage at this belittling of her and her
Order, Arahna responded to the unseen speaker -- undoubtedly Vastor Naasht
himself -- "Only a weakling and a coward would conceal himself behind
magic.  It is obvious to see why you turned away from the Brotherhood: you
needed magic to shield you from your own cowardice."
     "Oh, ouch!" riposted the voice caustically.  "My, aren't you a brazen
little trollop.  No doubt that is how you were picked for this incursion
into my abode: your master felt you were his best concubine, and thus sent
you as a peace offering, knowing you held no chance of harming me.  I must
say, you are almost attractive, strumpet."
     Arahna remained impassive.  "The tauntings of a weakling."
     The voice became more serious.  "Think me weak, do you?  Well then,
have a little taste of power."  With that, the voice of the unseen Vastor
chanted a quick spell and a barrage of sorcerous bolts shot from a point
near the center of the room, tearing into Arahna, casting her tortured body
against the wall.
     Having been vigilantly keeping watch for some sign of where Vastor
was, Evrin saw the point from which the magical bolts originated.  He
hurled his enchanted dagger at that spot and was rewarded with a howl of
pain and rage.  But then came the whisper of cloth and Evrin was battered
to the ground by a two-footed kick from Vastor.  But this move broke
Vastor's spell of invisibility, revealing him to be an elderly human
dressed in unobtrusive clothing, appearing quite ordinary except for the
amazing agility he displayed in dropping the elf.
     Smiling over Evrin as the elf attempted to regain his feet, Vastor
started to make another caustic remark, but instead he spun around and
twisted to one side.  However, he was not quick enough to prevent Dwarkin's
scimitar from raking across the back of one arm, turning another portion of
Vastor's clothing red with blood.
     "You almost surprised me, elf," Vastor hissed at Dwarkin. "You got
lucky.  Neither of which will occur ever again."
     Vastor raised the hand which held the dagger covered with his own
blood, gesturing towards Dwarkin with it.  But then, he turned towards
Arahna -- who was still on her feet, despite the condition her body was in
-- and deflected the swing of her sword.  Then he dodged to one side,
evading the assault of Dwarkin and Evrin.  Then the elderly member of the
Order of the Ebony Star noticed Gael enter the room -- albeit with a slight
uncertainty in her step -- with her trident in hand.
     A decision was quickly made by Vastor.  Knowing he would be incapable
of calling upon his powerful magics if he engaged these intruders in close
combat, and not wanting to challenge four opponents of unknown strength at
one time, Vastor chose a tactical retreat.  Besides, if he could draw them
further into his lair, he could give them a few more surprises.  Laughing
to himself at this pleasure, Vastor dodged and rolled.  Before his
assailants could close in again, he tumbled towards the far end of the room
and through the waiting doorway.  He disappeared through the door and
sealed it with a spell of closing.
     Arahna, well in front of her companions, reached the door just as it
slammed shut behind the fleeing mage.  Although she threw her impressive
strength against the portal, it would not budge, not even when Evrin added
his shoulder to the task as well.
     Noting the ineffectiveness of their actions, Dwarkin instructed them
to step back.  Placing his hands on the wooden door, the druid intoned an
invocation to the forces of nature.  In moments, the wooden planks of the
door started to deform themselves, warping from flat to convoluted.  When
Dwarkin stepped away from the door, all that held the planks together were
a few unpopped bolts.  A savage kick from Arahna -- perchance due to her
pent-up frustration -- caused most of the warped planks to fall loosely
apart, scattering over the floor beyond the door.
     With the door opened, Arahna started to dash through it in pursuit of
Vastor.  She was, however, restrained by Dwarkin Shea.  His normally calm
demeanor all but evaporated, the centuries old elf hissed but a single word
to Arahna: "Caution!"  Even though her desire to capture the renegade
member of the Brotherhood was great, Arahna admitted to herself that it
would be wise to proceed carefully.
     When the others had recovered from Vastor's sorcerous miasma -- and
Gael had lent her healing prayers to the worst of the wounded group -- they
cautiously proceeded down the passage after Vastor.  This passage led them
into a large and empty chamber.  Empty, that is, except for the lone figure
of Vastor, who stood negligently in the entrance to a passage exiting
through the opposite wall.
     At the appearance of his pursuers, Vastor called out arrogantly, "You
are fools to challenge me here.  But as corpses you will at least be useful
to me."
     With that, the elderly man pulled a lever set in the wall of the
passage.  He then turned and retreated down the passage as a portcullis
dropped across the entrance to the passage, blocking any pursuit.  Another
portcullis sealed off the passage the group had come from, trapping them in
the room as the sound of hissing filled the room.
     The source of the hissing was a greenish gas spraying into the room
from a vent in one wall.  When he saw this, Tibulus called out, "Poison
gas!" and instructed the others to move back to the portcullis behind them.
He grabbed this portcullis, setting his strength against it in an attempt
to raise it up so that the others would be able to flee.
     Dwarkin, meanwhile, was summoning the forces of nature to one again
dispel some hazardous mists.  When he was complete, the mist had condensed
onto the floor and walls, while a blue-green fluid ran out of the vent and
down the wall.  When this was done, everyone breathed a sigh of relief,
thanking Dwarkin who took it modestly before pointing out that they must
not give up the pursuit of Vastor Naasht.
     "But what of the bars that descended behind us?" considered Torina,
for Tibulus had not yet succeeded in lifting them.
     "We can attend to that later, after Vastor is captured," stated
Arahna, who stepped up to the portcullis blocking the passage Vastor had
fled down.  The Graynyr's help, she lifted the metal frame, forcing it back
up into the ceiling until there was a clicking sound and the portcullis
locked back into place.
     Gael stood next to the entrance to the darkened passage, voicing a
prayer to Poseidon.  In moments, a brilliant glow shown down the passage,
revealing it to open up into another room some thirty feet farther.  There
was no sign of Vastor.
     The passage itself consisted of a narrow metal walkway running the
length of the passage, with a pool of some unpleasant looking fluid below
the walkway, which was slowly emitting fume-filled bubbles which smelled
distinctly of sulfur.
     "Acid?" Arahna considered aloud, to which Tibulus commented, "I would
rather not find out," as he grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her back
from where she was starting to step onto the metal walkway.  "Let Kasendra
check to see if this mess is safe.  It's one of the few things she's any
good at."
     The halfling made as if to punch the bard in the side directly over
one of his wounds as she walked past him and out onto the walkway.  He
flinched only barely, but enough for her to take some satisfaction from her
own method of implied vengeance.  Half of the way down the passage, she
froze and gently knelt on the metal framework, producing a metal spike of
from her pack and forcing it into the walkway, jamming the mechanism which
would drop that section of the walkway into the caustic fluid below.
     Kasendra continued on towards the end of the passage but stopped
before reaching the end.  She took a step backwards, thought better of
doing that on the narrow walkway, spun around and quickly rejoined the
group.  Grinning suspiciously, she bowed graciously to Tibulus and
commented, "After you."
     Never one to trust the humor of his long-time travelling companion,
the bard readied his sword and cautiously advanced along the metal walkway,
disappearing into the darkness.
     "What is down there?" Graynyr inquired, not knowing what to expect
from Kasendra.  From the tales she and the bard and told, the half-elf knew
that they tended to have a very warped sense of humor when they went
adventuring.
     Before the halfling could say anything, there was what sounded like a
cross between an inarticulate yelp of fear and a number of oaths mixed
together, which was followed almost instantly by a sudden blast of light
and a wash of flames filled the chamber at the opposite end of the passage,
momentarily silhouetting the bard and leaving spots in their eyes to
accompany the dull ringing in their ears.
     The others started to charge to their friend's assistance when they
saw him storming back up the passage towards them, slapping at a couple of
wisps of smoke coming from the front of his clothes, which had been
slightly burned in the explosion.  The anger on his face almost completely
covered the fear in his eyes and he pointed at Kasendra, who was choking on
her laughter.  "For that you will pay dearly," the bard promised her.  To
the others he said, "The way is clear."  He turned and headed back down the
passage, muttering something about snakes as a fierce shudder ran up his
back.
     As the others reached the chamber at the opposite end of the chamber,
Tibulus cast a spell which illuminated the chamber.  The walls and floor
were scorched, with the wavy outlines of which might have been the severely
charred remains of numerous snakes.
     When prompted by the others for an explanation, Tibulus only said with
great distaste, "I hate snakes!"
     "How did you do that?" demanded Evrin with more than slight amazement.
He knew the bard was a spell caster, but he had never expected Tibulus was
this powerful.
     "This ring is more than just decoration," smiled the bard, holding up
his hand to show the aforementioned item of jewelry.
     Grabbing the human by the arm, the elf gestured vaguely behind them,
thinking of all the battles they had fought, demanding, "Then why did you
not do that to those accursed creations?  Or to those trees in the Yurndale
Forest?"  Evrin's distaste for having to kill showed in his rage.
     "Perchance," returned Tibulus vehemently as he pulled himself free
from the much shorter humanoid's grasp, "just perchance it might have
something to do with the fact that the powers of this ring only function in
near darkness."  Then he added, motioning around them at the magical light
that now suffused this room, "And this was one of the few places dark
enough for this ring to work properly, since light like this makes my ring
useless.  As well Kasendra knew," he added accusingly towards the halfling.
     "Calm down," sighed Dwarkin, weary of being the peace-keeper of the
group, "save your rage for your enemies, not your comrades."
     The two glared at each other for a further moment backing off, not
truly wanting to battle one another.
     Then they were interrupted as the door in one wall was cast open and
more of the demonically animated clay abominations charged into the room.
Ever the two boldest in the group, Tibulus and Graynyr met the charging
monstrosities half way, setting sword against claw.  One devil-creature
cast a bolt of electricity at the bard before leaping on him and tearing
into the human with its claws.
     Graynyr launched himself into a flurry of skillful blows which hewed
off clay body-parts from the thing, soon reducing it to a grey pile of
soil.  The others also joined in the fray, and in moments, the magically
animated things were left scattered across the chamber in a splattered,
slippery mess.