Raven’s normally long, well-kept nails were jagged from running along the rough rock walls enclosing the narrow stairway. She was slowly growing aware of herself again. She could here Dalthis humming distantly, but his words brought her consciousness crashing back into herself.
“…Chaos loves me this I know…”
“…for my delusions told me so…”
Raven listened intently as she walked, for music, even bad music, was what she truly lived for. After a long pause Dalthis burst out, “Where the hell did the next line go?” Raven had been so intent that the outburst, combined with her inattention to the seemingly endless stairs below her feet stumbled as her world evened out, nearly falling into the dimly lit passage at the head of the stair. Her eyes focused on a graceful wall of what might have been amethyst crystal, which seemed to glide upward, forcing her eyes to follow it thusly. She gasped, physically overwhelmed by the cunning architecture, which caused her mind to spin in the face of the ceiling’s dizzying heights. Balakan did not share her appreciation. “This realm is whole nuts, except me” he said with a smile as he stepped into the hall. Raven stepped out of Balakan’s way. “At least its better then pink bunny land…” Balakan trailed off, mumbling about Elysium. Raven’s eyes caught Dalthis’ motion as he removed himself from the stairwell, and then fixed on an archway beyond.

The archway was made of black marble. Two fearfully beautiful women sporting black bat’s wings, which just touched, was the imagery that comprised the arch. Horrifically stunning; beautiful. Her fingertips brushed the cold surface, almost reverently. The image stirred something in her mind. From somewhere behind her, Balakan chuckled. “That arch reminds me of that friend of Valor’s...”

Why did Balakan not understand the...the…sacredness…of this place? Raven slid through the archway without comment. Her feet touched the smooth black onyx of the floor as her eyes swept around the fabulous ballroom. The walls that she could see seemed to be made of crystal as clear as glass through which could be seen a garden filled with swathes of Blood roses and razor vine. The swathes of plant life swept inward to embrace a fountain of pristine white marble. The marble itself was carved into the images of numerous elven maidens; each was poised in a position of pain. Some were mutilated. The carvings were perfect, stunningly so. Raven’s eyes fixed on the fountain. She stopped walking as the others entered the room behind her. This image too stirred something within her mind. Lilting, ethereal music began to play within the ballroom as she realized her footsteps had grown silent. Raven closed her eyes.

“Wren?” Dalthis’ broken cry shattered Raven’s peace. She turned even as he backed away; his eyes fixed on the same fountain that had stirred her so. He began backing away, shaking his head as though to clear it, “...no…my beloved, no…not like this…” Dalthis’ gaze lowered to the daggers in his hands. Raven watched Balakan reach out and touch Dalthis’ shoulder. Ever empathetic was her love. “It’s only a statue,” Balakan spoke softly, assuringly, “It’s not real.” "But…” Dalthis looked back toward the statue but Balakan shook his head, “Any semblance is merely that.” Dalthis was vehement, “But cant’ you see the tortured look in her eyes?” “No. This place is built to deceive.” Balakan shook his head. “Come, we’ve work yet to do here.” Raven turned away from then, her attention drifting elsewhere.

The drow bard moved toward the far wall, and the fountain beyond. She was distantly aware of Dalthis begging someone for forgiveness. Balakan must be dragging him after her. Raven stifled a giggle. Her mirth vanished as the crystalline wall grew nearer. She reached her ebon fingers outward, toward the wall, her eyes drifting closed. The illusion surrounding the walls vanished, showing them, as they truly were, unblemished, reflective hematite. Deft fingers moved along the wall, and then…slid through. She followed the path her fingertips provided; the sensation of moving through he wall was like passing beneath the surface of water. It was warm, and tickled. She giggled in sheer delight. It rang out, somehow unwholesome in its innocence. Balakan’s voice wafted to her from somewhere within the wall, “I have a bad feeling about this…” She opened her eyes.

Raven shook her head slightly as she looked around what must be a throne room. On the far wall, atop a silver dais, sat an intricately crafted throne, also of silver, which was lined with violet crushed velvet cushions. Pillows of all shapes, sizes and colors lay upon the floor. Tapestries depicting everything from dragon flights to torrid sexual acts lined the walls. Balakan pointed at one of the less depraved pictures “Hey Raven, is that us?” Pandemonium had finally found another victim. Raven’s feet carried her through the sea of pillows toward the dais. She chose not to reply to Balakan. She heard Balakan sigh and his footsteps begin, following her. Dalthis she did not hear, but sensed he too was coming.

Raven set her right foot upon the dais and a feeling of…rightness…swept through her. She mounted the stairs, moving toward the throne. She felt as though she was moving through water; the one within her trying to usurp her body again. She fought against the one within, in the end losing only partial control. She slid onto the velvet cushion, one leg folded beneath her. Her eyes caught Balakan who stood still and silent; a black monolith from some atavistic past. He had an air of…waiting. Raven’s fingertips slid over the arms of the throne, guided by the Messenger. The metal was chill and rough with the relief’s shaped into it. There was an audible click as a piece of a carved fiend’s wing slid inward. Somewhere to her right stone scrapped against stone, and more quietly, beneath her, was the clatter of metal on metal. Balakan’s eyes moved to the dagger that had fallen beneath the throne, as did Dalthis’. Raven reached beneath, grasping the dagger that had fallen from a hidden panel in the throne itself. She knew, just by touch, it was not the one they were looking for. The messenger imparted to her that it was a key. She slid off the throne and began moving toward from whence the sound of stone upon stone had come, where upon she found a secret door standing open. She heard Dalthis sigh, and Balakan moving toward her.

Raven peered into the dimly lit, hidden chamber. Dust was thick within the room. It had gone long unused. Some catastrophic battle seemed to have been held within. The tables were scorched, as were the stone floors. Very few things remained within. A sword glowed in one corner, and a few crystal vials, one broken, lay upon a table. Even a great, iron statue had not escaped the room unscathed; numerous were the score marks marring its perfection. Raven was about to step through the doorway, but some silent, mental alarm gave her pause. She turned to Balakan. “You first,” she said, grinning like a mad women, and stepping away from the door. Balakan nodded, “Of course.” Raven caught Dalthis’ gaze as he favored her with a grin of his own.

Balakan entered the chamber as Raven watched, and she slipped in behind. She glanced toward Dalthis to find him peeling an orange. As perplexing as that was, she turned back to the chamber. "Is that what I think it is?” Balakan’s tense voice rang forth as he observed the iron statue beginning to move. “Lighting…it’s wounded,” the messenger’s silken voice whispered in Raven’s mind. She unslung her yarting and caught Balakan looking at her, and not his enemy. “What are you looking at me for? Kill it!” Raven racked her mind, seeking the spell song for lightning, still fresh in her memory from her morning’s study. She was dimly aware of Dalthis commenting on how wonderful his orange was, and asking if she wanted one. Moments later an orange went sailing past her, harmlessly splattering against the iron golem, which was facing down Balakan. Balakan stood bravely against it, his sword gleaming in the dim light. Raven felt a twinge of regret; Balakan wouldn’t have been in this danger if not for her. The spell song sprang to mind and lips simultaneously, her eyes remained fixed on the golem as her slender fingers danced over her yarting, weaving the magic. Dalthis moved past her, her daggers ready, but pathetically small compared to the metallic beast. The golem stepped off the pedestal upon which it stood, it’s huge fists descending with deceptive speed toward Balakan. As raven neared the completion of her spell, Balakan moved aside with surprising agility despite his heavy armor, and quicksilver flash ran along the length of his blade as it scored a cut in the golem. Her world went dark in the aftermath of the flash of lightning that flew from her fingertips. She dropped her yarting well before she recovered. She could hear the clash of battle still as she drew her blades from their sheaths. She waded forward as her vision returned to her. Dalthis cling to the beast’s back, and Balakan’s blade flashed, scoring wound after wound. She danced forward, hoping to be a distraction to the beast. Her palms were wet within her gloves, not with fear, but with excitement. The golem was moving much more slowly, but not so slowly as she believed, her blades flashed outward, both scoring hits, but at the price of her own well-being. Iron fists slammed into her. Stars flew into her vision. She heard Balakan roar as she flew through the air. She slammed into something with a sickening crunch, which resounded within her head, and then everything went dark.

Raven groaned. She could taste blood. By his smell, it was Dalthis who was near her. She heard a tremendous crash, and Balakan’s incoherent victory cry. She forced her eyes to open. “You okay?” Dalthis casually inquired. Raven carefully examined herself for broken bones, amazingly, finding nothing but bruises and lacerations, “I’ll live.” “Good,” Dalthis returned, “I didn’t want to waste my healing potions on you anyway…”

Balakan kicked the fallen golem and a clang, metal upon metal, rang out. “Take that you abominable freak of wizardry!” Raven stifled a giggle, and then groaned in pain as she tried to stand. "You'd better stay off your feet for a few minutes." and with that, Dalthis swept Raven into his arms, much to her astonishment, and began carrying her toward Balakan. The dark armored warrior chuckled, “I expected a bit more of it, golems normally take a small army to defeat.” Raven sighed at that bit of exaggeration, and glared at Dalthis. Balakan’s voice softened, “How is she?” “Give her a few”, Dalthis shifted a bit as raven growled, “I’m fine…put me down, I need the key.” Dalthis frowned reprovingly, “A minute of rest wouldn’t hurt…” “Fine.” Raven said, allowing her eyes to slide closed. She could hear Balakan rummaging around for treasure, or ‘booty’ as he called it, of which there was very little. Eventually he settled upon the glowing sword. Sometime later, Dalthis set Raven upon her feet, steadying her as she staggered slightly. Raven’s eyes fell on the glowing blade in Balakan’s hand, and she winced. “That makes my head hurt, cover it up.” She moved toward her yarting and the dagger-key without waiting for him to reply or action. In fact, if he acted or replied, she was unaware. Her entire body hurt, but she had to finish this. She picked up her yarting, giving it only a cursory inspection before slinging it back into position and grasping the dagger. She walked single mindedly toward the pedestal upon which the golem had stood. She slid the dagger key into the slot she knew would be in the pedestal, and twisted. There was a moment of stillness. Raven’s world shrank downward. The pedestal was her world as it split opened, despite it’s seamless appearance. She stepped back; stumbling into the table which held the crystal vials. From within the pedestal rose a pillar upon which sat a pillow of midnight blue. Upon the pillow lay a simple, rather ill-kept, quillionless dagger. Dalthis swam into her vision, grinning. Raven moved toward the pillar, trembling hands reaching outward toward the dagger. “It has been too long since last I saw on of it’s kind…” Dalthis fairly sighed. From behind her she heard Balakan say, “Shouldn’t you take these vials? Equal shares?” She saw Dalthis roll his eyes from the corner of her vision, “What would I do with those?” “Hey…I used to be a soldier of fortune” began Balakan, “They could be potions or some such mumbo-jumbo…”

Raven’s fingers closed around the dagger. She could feel its power thrumming beneath her fingertips. She arms began to shape, her vision tunneling down, inward, upon the dagger.

And then her world exploded.

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