In the Barrier Peaks stands the castle of Mordenkainen. Many protective guards and wards protect its walls from those who could even reach it to begin with, as remote as the castle is. But unlike, well, any living thing, we can soar through an upper window on the thirteenth floor, through a study, down a hall, through a larger hall, around another corner, and into one of the private rooms of Mordenkainen himself. He is sitting in a chair while an elf servant trims his beard.
Suddenly, Mordenkainen lurches forward, stumbling out of his chair. He reaches out for something solid to help steady himself. He turns, looks around, and says to the elf maid, "Did you feel that?" in her own tongue.
She did not. Concern knits Mordenkainen's brow. For a full minute he looks at the floor, deep in thought. Finally he decides on a course of action; he walks to the nearest side wall and gives a very special rap of his knuckles upon it, causing a door to appear there. He opens it, and steps through. We follow.
Mordenkainen has stepped into his divination room. He uncovers a crystal ball, touches it, and speaks a command. "Show me Tenser. Allow me to speak with him."
The image of another of Oerth's most famous mage's appears in the ball. He's eating a sandwich.
"Tenser," Mordenkainen says, "I have felt a great disturbance. Something feels amiss to me. Do you not feel it?"
"Is that why my sandwich tastes off?" Tenser asks. "What goes on?"
"That I do not know, though...I have a strange premonition that gives me some inkling...I will get back to you."
Mordenkainen touches the crystal ball again and the image blurs and disappears. He thinks twice before saying what he says next. "Show me the Mad Prophet. Allow me to hear him."
The image of a dimly-lit cell, illuminated by the flickering light of some distant torch, appears in the ball. In the gloom, covered in matted hair almost as thick as fur, is a man. The man cackles with a hoarse, dry voice.
"Who is watching me? Basiliv? Rary? Mordenkainen? It does not matter...you will all come to me in time...and, in time ...will come to see what time will mean in time."
Interlude 2
Ready’reat 1, 620 CYThe ogre lumbered away, but only three more paces across the courtyard before falling forward, its head lolled to the side, and three of Eirenden’s arrows sticking out of its back.
“Don’t let them fall back to their tower!” Eirenden called out. He had another arrow already notched and was sighting his next target of the fleeing ogres.
But Rulf, further back, had just had a gravelly voice whispering in his ear. “Stop!” Rulf shouted. “Everyone, fall back to me! Zig’s orders!”
“Zig isn’t here,” Vincent said, holding his bloodied wound, but still with enough strength left to him to sound defiant.
“He will be,” Rulf argued. “Everyone, form a defensive circle around this spot!”
Rulf backed away into the circle of Eneever Zig’s henchmen forming up as instructed. Even Vincent. He had no love for Rulf, but he was wise to fear disobeying Zig.
Motes of magical energy began to dance in the spot near where Rulf stood. They spun briefly in a vertical oval shape before disappearing in a brief flash of light -- and then Eneever Zig stood in that spot. He wore a black conical hat and black robes that his white beard hung over, and he clutched a wizard’s staff. He could not have looked more the stereotype of a wizard had he consciously tried.
“Well? You found it?” were the first words out of Zig’s mouth.
Rulf seemed to know to what he referred. “Yes. We located the Bottle City. Did you wish to see it right away? We were just dispatching the rest of the ogres in this place.”
“Leave them,” Zig said. “They do not concern me. I would be taken to the Bottle City at once, but I have a new task for after you lead me there. Take the men and secure the main tower of the castle, so I may make use of it upon my return.”
“The main tower is held by a group of elves…” Rulf said.
“I know. You may try convincing them to leave if you wish, but if they resist, kill them. Kill them all.”
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