CHAPTER 6: Otherwordly Visitors

By Inja Yew and Wacko

The attention of the group now focused on the little man. The little weasel who had tortured Wacko to within inches of his life and who had just killed the good King Louis, now cowered in the corner. Lord Roberts approached him menacingly. He studied the creature, it looked human, but somehow was different. Was it the skin color, or facial features ... it was the eyes.

Lord Roberts ripped off the man's spectacles, causing him even more apprehension. The bard examined the apparatus. He had never seen anything like it. He put it on his face. Instantly the world became a weird place, everything was disproportional and out of focus. He removed the things, then realized strangely that he knew that they were a tool for vision correction, glasses. He did not think he figured it out, it was more like a hidden memory becoming obvious.

"Ok, enough of this" interrupted Storm Master, we have people to rescue. Facing the little man. "How do we get the two out of that room?" Storm Master asked pointing in the direction of the Draining Room.

"W-w-well, just go in and get them ... " answered the little man, a wicked little smile appeared on his face.

WHACK! Inja Yew gave the little man a not so friendly tap on the head.

"You must not remember me, we know what happens to anyone that enters there." Inja looked at him with menace.

"Huh, huh" the little man laughed nervously "b-b-b-but you need protective clothing"

"Come on, we don't have time for this, where is the protective clothing" Inja prodded him with the staff.

"No more, the warlord has the only suit" the mans eyes darted around the room furiously. "There is the crawler of course ... but, you've pretty much destroyed that" He pointed toward the still smoldering heap of metal. Inja had a sudden moment of clarity. This was why Gruesome had not suffered the degenerative effects of the artifact, he was somehow protected by his silver dome. Inja removed the frog's harness from his shoulder and cast a spell on it. The small device floated in the air with the frog inside. The mad mage took a thin leather strap and secured the frog into the device. Inja closed his eyes, commanding the device to fly and investigate the room.

The frog's dome moved quickly down the corridor. At one point it passed an area painted red. This must be the radius of danger, he noted. He had not noticed, probably because of the slight slope in the corridor, but the dome was losing altitude gradually. As it entered the room, it continued to descend, settling down roughly in the middle. Gruesome sat there silently, apparently safe, yet in a position from which rescue would be difficult. So he did what he could, he peered out the tiny vent holes and surveyed the room, sending the information back telepathically to his master.

Inja became very agitated. "Ok, the room has no other exits, the prisoners appear to be shackled to the wall and it looks like there are no other obstacles there. Any volunteers to rescue them" He bent over and picked up the little man. "Good"

"Wait! Wait! I'm very old, I can't go in there, I'll die in minutes."

"You'll work fast" Inja countered.

"No, I won't do it"

"Well, I guess then you've just removed any reasons why we might have kept you alive"

"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you all about this place, the Warlord, and HIS Master."

"Good idea, we'll have that chat a little later"

"But those prisoners, they'll kill me as soon as I set them free"

Lord Roberts threw a cloak at him, "So wear a disguise" The heroes grabbed the little man and removed all foreign objects and articles of clothing, should he have any concealed devices. They wrapped him in the cloak and dragged him, kicking and screaming, down the corridor to the red line. Inja and Lord Roberts then grabbed him and threw him over the line. StormMaster motioned for Artemia to draw his bow. "There's only one way back for you."

"And bring back the frog," Inja added menacingly.

The man's eyes darted around quickly, then he ran back to the group. Panting "At least give me my glasses back, so I can see."

Lord Roberts tilted his head "might spoil your disguise. Hmmm ... Just keep your hood over them."

The man sprinted into the room. Inja closed his eyes and again observed through the eyes of his familiar. The man entered the room and began working earnestly on the shackles. He freed one prisoner, which fell to the floor, unconscious. He then freed the other, this one too dropped down unconsciously. The man began to drag the two out of the room. He realized that he no longer needed a disguise and threw off the cloak that was hindering him. He began to get weak and swoon. He recovered and started working on just one prisoner. The party stood anxiously by.

"This is inhuman," Krundard announced. Boldly he stepped over the red line. He stopped as a strange force assailed him. He felt as if thousands of little strings were attached to his skin, all tugging gently in all directions. This isn't so bad, he thought. He strode forward to help the man. With each step the pulling got stronger. He began to feel light headed. He reached the man and grabbed the prisoner. "Get the other one" he ordered. Artemia let fly an arrow that whizzed by the man's face, letting him know there was certain death should he refuse. Krundard was met by StormMaster and Wacko who helped him get back across to the safe area.

Inja looked at them knowingly "You feel as though you never want to do that again."

The man appeared in the doorway with the other prisoner. Dométma and Lord Roberts rushed to help.

"Don't forget the frog," Artemia yelled. The little man seemed to lose hope and fell to his knees. He shuffled back into the room. A few minutes passed and he crawled to the doorway and collapsed. In a last defiant act he ripped the hood off the dome. Gruesome was now fully exposed to the degenerative power of the artifact. Gruesome was also securely fastened to the base of his carrier and could not get away.

"Nooooo!" Inja Yew screamed. He ran forward, his mind blocked out the familiar pain. He grabbed Gruesome and put him back in his container. He looked contemptuously at the little man. Without thinking he removed his staff from his back and with all his strength drove the thick base into the man's head. It was like striking a watermelon with a sledge hammer. Inja had no time for regrets as he ran back to the rest of the group.

"Nice going," Lord Roberts greeted him "so much for interrogating this one."

"Hey, take it easy," Wacko defended the mage, "My only regret is that I was not the one to smash his head open"

Inja's only concern at this moment was his frog. Strangely, Gruesome appeared to be unharmed. Perhaps frogs were not affected by this device.

... As Krundard and Inja Yew did their best to revive the two freed prisoners from the fatal room, an unholy scream was heard as two more Liches rounded the corner. Artemia replaced his arrow and unsheathed his sword. He noticed for the first time since StormMaster told him the nature of this weapon, the unusual way it gleamed when around the Undead. Kinda like King Louis' sword, only more subtle.

He held up a hand as StormMaster and Wacko tensed up to lunge at the assailants. "I think I'll handle this, friends," he said with a peculiar voice. Wacko didn't argue too much, his rage partly gone and his fear of Liches returned. He chose this moment to take out his flask of Liquid Courage, which he hadn't taken out until now (quite an achievement, he thought), and took a deep swig of it. Seeing Wacko stop, StormMaster stopped also. Dométma and Lord Roberts watched on, partly amused and partly curious.

Artemia raised his sword above his head, and felt a surge of power. He never knew how good it was to wield this thing! His confidence against the Undead was greatly improved by his encounter with the Ghost Dragon...

The Liches approached the young Elf, wearing smiles that looked more like grimaces and starting to cast a spell. But the smiles were gone when they realized the look in Artemia's eyes was that of someone who had found an easy target. Before they could finish their spells, Artemia lopped the ethereal head off of one. The other, interrupted and somewhat perplexed, had to start again. He didn't get far.

Feeling somewhat relaxed now, Wacko looked around to see all the prisoners now freed and sitting against the wall. They were all somewhat dazed, seemingly apathetic as to whether they were free or not. Of the four freed from the Crab, three were Elves and one was Human. The two prisoners who were given the worst punishment of all were both Elven. As Artemia came back from his little excursion, he saw that he didn't recognize the Elves. Of course - they must be from another Village. He saw that it was very possible that none of the Elves of his village were still alive - not as Elves, anyway.

The group went down the hallway from which the crab device had come. The path turned into a steep incline which opened up into a large cavern. The walls seemed to be unnatural. They were stone but polished, almost like glass. The room was filled with hundreds of prisoners. Some in cells along the walls, some in cages, others just shackled together. They were guarded by a small army of orcs. The adventurers froze in their tracks when they saw two more of the crab devices, it was small consolation. that the devices did not have the towers of shrapmetal on them.

Artemia quickly sprung into action when he saw the weakness of one device. It had no occupant. The driver was relaxing on a chair along side his machine enjoying a cup of beverage. Artemia drew his bow and, from a hundred yards, drove a deadly arrow into the mans neck. The prisoners took noticed and looked in the direction of the attack, some even pointing. It wasn't long before the guards were aware of the intruders each seemed to take a swig of some potion, liquid courage no doubt, and charged.

The heros hesitated from firing spells of mass destruction as over fifty orcs raced between the prisoners. Until the attackers closed the mages cast their flame arrows, while the cleric and paladin cast mighty flying fists. Wacko was quickly expending his supply of shurikens. As the onrushing orcs reached the bottom of the incline Inja released his sparks with deadly results. The sparks rolled down the incline shattering the oncoming ranks. Dométma joined in with some strategically placed fire balls. The orcish advance was easily halted but more kept rushing in. A mound of dead bodies was building up at the base of the incline. Inja was surprised at the morale and determination of these guards. They probably feared reprisal from the Warlord more than death. It was apparent that many of the prisoners were orcs as well.

The last crab device was removing shackled prisoners. When its driver saw the commotion, he released the elves and turned the device to join the fray. The elves started to run, but one of them seemed to be more stout of heart. He grabbed the chain which once had bound him and flung it around the rear leg of the crab. The chain and shackle lodged in one of the joints. The crab was not slowed in the least. The chain mounting just snapped as the beast moved forward. With each step more of the chain was pulled free along with other prisoners, still attached. Soon the machine was dragging ten elves. It reached the mound of dead orcs and hesitated. Other orcs were climbing over it in an uncontrolled bloodlust. As the machine paused, the elves had a moment to pick themselves off the ground. They wound the other end of the chin on a sturdy pillar.

The mechanical beast began to climb the dead bodies of its allies. Dométma began to cast his acid burst spells. They hit the metallic body and splashed on the advancing orcs. The machine suffered little damage but the orcs were enraged. The elves seeing the beast climbing put their backs into pulling on the chain. It did little more than put the creature off balance as its footing among the bodies of the orcs began to give way. The machine reared like an angry stallion. Its front legs compensating for the imbalance. Lord Roberts seeing this cast a shrapmetal spell on its underbelly. Inja Yew quickly followed suit. The machine fell over backwards, crushing several elves.

Meanwhile Wacho had taken to the air and started to divert the attention of the orcs. Having run out of ammo he flew over to a table of instruments like knives and pliers. He took off again and was throwing them down upon the orcs. It was not enough to kill them but it was enough to distract them from making a concentrated attack on the group.

The giant crab machine was lying on its back. The fall seemed to have knocked out its occupant who was lying in a fetal position at the bottom of the glass bubble. Apparently he had neglected to fasted the safety harness. The group focused on eliminating the remaining orcs who were now too close for ranged combat. The next hour was taken up by brute force. Everyone except Dométma wielded a mighty weapon. The mage concentrated on casting repeated rings of fire. Wacko not being in the center of the party stayed well out of range of the spell. He had attracted a few adversaries just for himself.

Slowly the tides began to turn in their favor as the elves who were free began to free others and liberate weapons from the fallen orcs. The stupid beasts fought to the death. None would accept surrender. When the last orc had died the party sat down exhausted. Krundard and Storm Master, were just too tired to even heal themselves. Almost simultaneously they caught a movement out of the corner of their eye, where there should have been none.

The driver of the crab had come to and he was standing up, manipulating the controls to get the beast moving again. Wacko gave out the cry "For the Kiiiinnnngggg! We could really use him noooowwwwww!" and staggered over to the beast. He stood next to the man, looking at his adversary, but a few feet away. The man was still a bit woozy, terrified yet perfectly safe from the gargoyle. He realized this and with added confidence manipulate the controls causing the beast to right itself. The rest of the party were staggering to engage.

The acid had not worked fast on this beast, but it had finally worked. Several of the joints were now damaged as was obvious from the creature's limp. It's occupant saw the carnage around him and decided it would be best to make a hasty retreat. He headed for the nearest wall. A concentrated blue green arc of flame appeared at the front of the beast. When it hit the stone wall dust and small particles of stone shot out in tremendous force as the heat of the arc began to melt the stone. The creature advanced into the hole. The spewing forth of material made following it a risky proposition..

The chain held. Finally the beast could go no further. It began to turn, to sever the chain. Wacko remembering something from the last battle rushed over and grabbed some shurikens that were buried in the body of a nearby orc. He threw them at the lines that he had seen carry the lifeblood of the first crab creature. The lines that were so clearly visible on the claws were also there on the legs. He made several hits. Black liquid shot out of the wounds. The machine was now sideways in the tunnel. Its boring plasma cannons and claws useless at that angle.

The driver looked around helplessly. Fearing capture he began pushing buttons. Then he pulled out a device and put it to his head. It cast some sort of a shrapmetal spell and blew his head out over the insides of the control enclosure. Wacko stopped in his tracks, he had a bad gargoyle intuition about this. "Take cover !" He yelled running out of the freshly dug tunnel. Just then a terrible explosion filled the tunnel the creature had bored and sent the device shooting out of the tunnel like out of a cannon.

When the smoke had died down, it finally appeared like the worst of it was over. Many dead elves and humans were scattered about, but the group had been victorious. Now they began to consider that further reinforcements might be coming to the evil side..

As StormMaster, Lord Roberts and the Court Magician stood guard, Wacko, Inja Yew and Artemia started to knock down the doors in the adjacent cells, and Krundard did his best to heal whoever stumbled out. It was gratifying to Artemia that he was helping to free so many of his kindred - but as he searched the sullen faces, he didn't recognize a single one. There were a few Humans, a couple of Orcs, and even a Cyclops, but most of the prisoners were Elvan. All were invariably emaciated: Even the Cyclops was only fifteen feet tall.

Artemia slumped down against the wall... This was too much for him to take. He had long held the possibility that of the Elves captured from his village, some at least had survived these dungeons. Now, it appeared, every single one of his Kindred was either dead or, worse, Zombified. He made a conscious effort to push them all out his mind. This was what being a Man was all about.

Two more Liches approached, but they were quickly brought down by the three sentries. Was this the best they had to offer?

Suddenly Krundard jerked his head up from healing one of the two Elves from the Draining Room. "I feel it too," said StormMaster in a steady voice. It felt like over a dozen Liches coming their way.

Wacko knelt down to the Elf Krundard was healing. He must have been important to have deserved such punishment. He sat there, obviously a once-powerful warrior, now a sapped man. But he retained a lot of his strength: Apparently they had come along just in time. Wacko leaned over to the Elf's ear and quickly whispered the directions back down to the caverns. Artemia followed his example with the other Elf.

Both Elves quickly got up - it was obvious now that they were identical twins - and ran towards the oncoming Liches with more energy than they seemed able to muster.. The other prisoners, those that could run anyway, quickly followed suit, heartened by their leaders and fellow prisoners. StormMaster had barely even begun to thin out the Liches' ranks when they clashed with the Prisoners. The prisoners pushed through by virtue of sheer number. In their wake were several Lich corpses, and twice as many Human, Elven and Orcish ones.

The prisoners shouldn't have had any trouble finding the caverns the Evil Eyes used to occupy - Wacko knew the river didn't stop there, there was another outlet (this one with air) that lead all the way down the mountain to a river by Castle Perron. They'd be well taken care of there.

Artemia glanced in the dungeon rooms and saw that not all the prisoners got out. In each room there were dozens of bodies, left in the spot they lay in to rot. A sense of morbid curiousity made him walk over to one of the corpses, lying way back in a dark corner, already in the advanced stages of decomposition. Seeing his own family emblem on a necklace hung around the corpse's neck brought it all home: He could recognize his father anywhere.

Artemia excused himself and quietly emptied his stomach contents. So... his father wasn't killed besieging the Fortress, he was captured. Which was almost impossible, as he knew his father would much rather die than live in captivity. He felt no urge to look for his mother, who was taken from the VIllage. There was nothing left for the young Elf now but revenge - bittersweet revenge against the evil fiend who wiped his People off the face of the Earth.

"Onwards?" asked Inja Yew, having found the stairs that led down to the level they wanted.

"Onwards," replied Dométma, and led the way with a Light spell.

It might be their imaginations, but each Hero felt that invisible force that oppressed them getting stronger. Wacko passed around the Liquid Courage as they descended.

The lowest level of the Dungeons, as well as being the level with the Machines in it, was also the Torture level. The group silently passed Torture Chamber by Torture Chamber, each one with a dead (and usually dismembered) body in it somewhere. Wacko's memories of this place were fortunately dulled by a combination of the emotional stress he was going through, Krundard's spells, and Liquid Courage. Artemia resolved not to look inside at all.

Eventually they heard screams intermixed with laughter. Wondering what it was, Lord Roberts poked his head into one of the dark and smelly rooms.

There, stretched out on a metal table, was a damsel who seemed to have lost her soul. Although she was strikingly beautiful, there was something horrifying about her demeanor. Dressed in all black, with black make-up, she seemed to be enjoying her time on the otherworldy rack! Attending to her were two Zombies, pushing little buttons at her command.

The Dark Mistress looked up and, seeing them, ordered the Zombies to remove the metal shackles holding her to the table. A button was pressed, and she was free. With a bone-chilling scream, she advanced.

StormMaster looked down the corridor. The Dark Mistress' alteration in screams told the guardians of this level that something was up. Six more Zombies rounded the corner, accompanied by two Liches. StormMaster, Inja Yew and Artemia took out their weapons and advanced upon them.

The Dark Mistress picked up Dométma before he could do anything and brought her lips to his. As Lord Roberts used his rapier and whatever little Dark Magic he knew to hold back the two Zombies, Wacko and Krundard frantically tried to release Dométma from the Dark Mistress' hold.

Wacko punched the woman right in the head. Her lips released only momentarily from Dométma's, to give forth a soft sigh. When their lips parted for that split second, Wacko and Krundard could see an ethereal entity passing from the Magician to the Mistress. She was sucking his soul out! Krundard tried a Psychic Shock spell, only to elicit the same response. Whatever attacks they tried, her grip on the Magician never weakened, her stance never changed.

Wacko took out a Shuriken in desperation. He let fly, and it landed in her neck. Another sigh was all he got. Poor Dométma's attempt at resistance were getting weaker...

Meanwhile, the other three were doing a good job of fighting back the undead patrol. While Artemia continued his new-found hobby of Undead-killing with the Zombies, felling them one by one, StormMaster and Inja Yew each took on one Lich.

StormMaster quickly cast a Destroy Undead, before the Lich could Silence him. It was hurt, but he was Silenced soon afterwards. He fought on with his sword, avoiding the deadly spells it unleashed.

Inja Yew was swift, rapping the Lich with his Staff and dodging its spells. The Silence spell managed to affect him, too. The Lich struck out in anger - and Inja Yew went down. Laughing evilly to itself, it picked up Inja's staff with the intention of finishing him off with it. It swung upwards - but couldn't follow through. The staff stayed resolutely held above the Lich's head. Suddenly, it slipped out of the Lich's hands, and started whacking it all by itself. As the Lich was defending itself bewilderedly, Inja regained his spell-casting ability and produced a swarm of Sparks, most of which hit the Lich and felled it.

With a parrying skill rarely equaled and a spell here and there, Lord Roberts managed to fend off the two Zombies' disease-ridden bodies until they were both down.

Everyone's attention was now centered on the pair sharing more than just a kiss. Wacko had managed to hack his way about halfway through her neck with his Shuriken; He would have cut her head off by now, but she was made of something tougher than flesh. What infuriated him was that, even though her blood was spurting everywhere, she was thoroughly enjoying this, and Dométma was nearly limp by now.

Without waiting for an explanation, StormMaster whipped out his sword and gave a full, strong swing at the Mistress' neck where Wacko had already hacked away. She emitted a full sigh now - and StormMaster found, with some alarm, that he couldn't get his sword out.

Wacko took a few steps back... then ran forward and jump-kicked the almost severed head. This time it flipped right back on its stem, ending the Mistress' life. As she buckled to the ground, Krundard and StormMaster huddled over Dométma to try and salvage his soul.

Lord Roberts realized that the monsters here were relatively easy to fight - he normally would have had a much harder time taking care of two Zombies - but they've been significantly weakened by the Machine. This could happen to them, too - even though they don't feel it thanks to Krundard's spells - so they had no time to lose.

Inja, thinking the same thought, announced: "We've probably taken care of all guardians on this level. The Machine is down this corridor, and the Control room is just a few doors down from here. Wacko knows where it is..."

Wacko nodded and led Lord Roberts, who nobody doubted would be instrumental in stopping the Machine, down to the Control Room. Inja and Artemia stayed behind to watch out for any attacks from above.

The sound of whirring, always a part of the background noise since they entered this level, got louder as the pair got to the Control Room. They were actually still a few doors down from the room with the main Machine in it... but the red paint that designated a danger area on the above level was just a few feet further down the corridor.

Wacko stealthily slithered into the room, unnoticed by the lone guard standing with his back to the door. It was a Demon, or what was left of it. Wacko was surprised: Demons normally have an acute sense of smell and hearing, so normally even a Ninja wouldn't be able to sneak past them. Yet another deprecating effect of the Machine, humming away just a few walls from where he stood.

Lord Roberts, not hearing any commotion, walked right in. The Demon finally turned around, seeing a Dark Elf standing at the doorway and a Gargoyle sneaking up on him just a foot away. It lashed out, but the struggle wasn't very prolonged: This one was almost wasted away.

Wacko and Lord Roberts stood in front of a row of cabinets, each made of metal, each with a row of whirring lights and tiny switches and windows that showed writing in those same runes that were on the rokit lonchur. Wacko neither could nor wanted to make any sense of all this.

"Go ahead, do... whatever it is you're supposed to do," said Wacko dismissively, as though he wanted nothing more to do with the subject than he had to.

"Um... Which is?" asked a bewildered Lord Roberts. He still remembered some of the things he saw of the Other World, but none of it included such sophisticated machinery.

Wacko's jaw dropped. Here they were, in the middle of a castle probably still swarming with Undead (many of the Liches), standing in front of their goal... and they didn't know what to do about it.

Jake knew he shouldn't have walked through - the Boss told him specifically not to - but how could he resist? The pull of a whole other World just beyond a Gate was too tempting for the explorer in him. He was tweaking a dial or two one minute, then the next thing he knew, he was just stepping through.

Somehow it wasn't what he had imagined... He found himself standing outside a similar machine to the one he had just walked into, in an otherwise empty and foul-smelling stone room.

Unable to go back having come this far, Jake decided to at least see what was within his immediate vicinity. He straightened out his Radiation Suit and walked confidently out the room.

Wacko heard footsteps outside in the corridor. Fearing some other Guardian - or possibly the Warlord himself - he hurried to the door and peered out.

He saw some small man - or was it a man? - wearing a whitish armor that covered him head to toe. It wasn't quite an armor - it was definitely not made of any chain metal, more likely it was a suit. Some window in front of his face offered a method for the wearer to look around. Something about his eyes reminded Wacko of the deceased Koeron. The person walked towards him, looking around, almost oblivious of Wacko. When his eyes focused the Gargoyle, his expression turned from one of wonder to that of shock to one of abject fear.

Before he had time to scream, Wacko grabbed the man's arm and yanked him into the Control Room.

Jake was mortified. What did this snarling creature want? It stood in front of the Controls, jabbering in some primitive language, getting increasingly angry as Jake remained silent. With him was a tall, gaunt, dark fellow with pointed ears. The monster spoke a few words to the gaunt fellow, who nodded and approached Jake.

The monster grabbed Jake's headpiece and pulled it off. "NO!" yelled Jake, his red tussled hair exposed to the alien air, "You'll kill me! There's radiation in this vicinity!"

The gaunt one started to speak to Jake. What pushed him to a new pinnacle of fear was that this one was speaking English.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you," said the Vulcan, "But my friend here does." At his prompt, the monster growled. "All we want is a little help in turning off that machine in the other room."

When Jake got over the initial shock, he reminded himself that every second he stood there he was exposing himself to damaging radiation. "Could you tell your friend to give me back my headpiece? I need it for protection."

"Well, why don't you help shut off the machine," stated the man calmly, "and then you won't need protection."

Seeing that there was no way he could talk his way out of this, and not wanting to waste any time, Jake walked over to the controls. They were a little different from what he was used to, but in seconds the heavy whirring stopped.

"Thank you," said the Guant one, and the monster proceeded to smash up the controls.

"Poor guy, I almost feel sorry for him," started the thin one...

Wacko looked at Lord Roberts quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"Oops," said Lord Roberts, returning to his native tongue, "Well, never mind. I think I'll ask him a few questions..."

"You said you needed that suit to protect you from this... Raydiyashun." started the Guant one, looking once again at Jake. "Where can we get more?"

"I don't know. The only person in this world I know of who has that would be the Warlord, but he's... he's over on our side for now."

Another tumbler of the lock in his mind clicked into place. Lord Roberts looked wide-eyed, past Jake, with the realization coming to him that this Machine was really a portal between the two Worlds. He would have liked to see what was on the other side... But now the Machine was off, with the Warlord stuck on the other side. The threat was over.

Something made him ask regardless: Perhaps they would need it for a similar threat later on - and perhaps he could sell it for a pretty penny. "Don't suppose you'd mind handing over your costume then."

Jake was about to argue, but decided against it. He hurriedly took off his suit, leaving him wearing the silver uniform he had come into work with this morning.

With that, Lord Roberts thanked him, and the two walked merrily out the door.

Jake watched them go, still paralyzed with fear. After an indeterminate amount of time, he suddenly sprang into action - he couldn't stand it here any longer, he had to get back home where it was safe and sane, he had to leave this place before he was greeted with more monsters... He bolted out the door, running towards the Portal. Those fools, they didn't realize the Portal still worked as long as it was powered from one end.

His panic had kept him from noticing that he was no longer wearing any protective clothing - when he stepped through the Portal, nothing came out the other side but radioactive dust.

Wacko and Lord Roberts returned to the rest of the group. Dométma was sitting up, mostly recovered. StormMaster and Krundard looked at each other with a smile of accomplishment on their lips. Artemia and Inja Yew were standing a few feet further down. Inja Yew was leaning against the wall - Artemia stood tensed up, sword drawn. At their feet lay a few Zombie corpses. Inja patted Artemia on the shoulder when he saw the pair returning. "Easy there, big man," said Inja, "I think you can relax now."

Artemia didn't. He almost wished more Undead would come down this way. His enjoyment of Undead-Slaying was growing at an ever-increasing pace. He was sorry to have to leave this place before killing every last Zombie, Skeleton, Lich or whatever else lurked within these walls.

To Lord Roberts Inja stated "It's about time! I'm pretty much out of spellpower - and so are our Healing friends," pointing at the two crouched over Dométma.

"I don't think he should be casting any spells any time soon either," said Krundard, indicating the winded Court Magician. "Are you alright, my friend?"

"Yes... no." said Dométma. I feel... I feel there's something missing."

Inja Yew dismissively kicked over the decapitated head. No sooner had he done that, than Dométma screamed in pain and slumped over. The others went over to him, including Inja, who inadvertantly kicked the head back in the other direction. Dométma sat back up, his pain gone.

"Wait a minute..." said Krundard, his attention now focused on the Lady's head. "Let me see that..." He cast an enchantment, and immediately caught his breath. "I'm afraid, although Dométma is revived, he will not be able to live without this head near him at all times. The Mistress still retains most of his Soul, and until we can find a way to retrieve it from inside her head, you'll have to carry it around." Krundard picked up the head and gingerly handed it to Dométma.

"The Machine's off?" asked Dométma, head cradled in his arms, already knowing the answer.

"The Machine's off." proclaimed Lord Roberts. A loud "ZAP!" followed those words, but as it wasn't heard again, they placed no importance on it.

"And we brought a souvenir!" said Wacko, holding up the Raydiyashun Suit proudly.

"We should make sure that no one can turn the machine back on." Inja suggested. "We must seal this area off"

An idea occurred to Lord Roberts. "Those crab devices were excavating devices, not machines of war. That's how this castle was built so quickly." The idea grew more wicked. "It shall come down even quicker. I will use it to excavate and cause the area around the device to collapse.

"Great," agreed Inja, "We'll wait by the device, then beacon out. That way no one can use the crab to get back in." He paused, seeing the worried faces. "Don't worry, I'll put up a containment field"

Inja ran into the room with the device. It was lying on the ground, oddly the draining force was still there. It was unguarded, it needed no protection as it was almost invulnerable. The only reason it would need guards is to keep others from using it, but only the Warlord, and a few of his minions knew how to use it. Inja felt the terrifying force of the device, he concentrated and cast a containment spell on it like he had a long time ago. Suddenly the evil power was contained. Everyone around felt like a great oppressive burden had been lifted.

It did not take Lord Roberts long to figure out the controls of this machine. He had great fun melting holes in the rock. In no time at all he made structurally unsound passageways that collapsed behind him. Finally he emerged in the room with the device. He smiled at his handiwork. An additional bonus was that water was seeping into the cavern.

"Okay, let's get out of here!" said Dométma.

"Well, if you insist." StormMaster produced a Lloyd's Beacon scroll he had kept in his inventory, and motioned for everyone to crowd around. Everyone did except for Artemia, who stood still as a statue, sword still drawn. Inja broke away from the group to yank the young Elf back towards them. As StormMaster spoke the words on the scroll, he could see Artemia become more and more agitated. When we almost finished the spell, he instinctively grabbed hold of Artemia's arm, just as Artemia tried to spring free of the group. StormMaster and Inja Yew held Artemia down as StormMaster stopped reading and the spell took effect.

The group materialized just outside Castle Perron. Remembering their tragic loss, they trudged slowly towards the Castle doors. The Guards made no indication that they noticed King Louis was missing from their group. Wacko was already devising a statement of expressed sorrow for his widow. Krundard was thinking up a eulogy as he drank deeply from his bottle of wine. Dométma, though he looked like the only one unaffected, was falling apart inside. But he would have to be strong, the Royal family would need him now.

Artemia was livid the second the teleportation spell took effect - but returned to normal after a few moments, having all but forgotten his limitless need to kill more Undead.

The group headed their slow way towards the Throne Room, where the Queen spent most of her time when the King is gone, ruling their Kingdom and awaiting her husband's return.

When they opened the door to the Throne Room, no face in the group was left untouched by shock. For there was the Queen, sitting on her Throne, unmindful of the fact that the King wasn't here with them. And even more amazing: The Throne next to her was occupied...

END OF CHAPTER SIX

END OF BOOK ONE

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