Note:  The rights for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 2nd Edition, which this story uses as a setting, belong to TSR and Wizards Of The Coast.  This story features characters based on a group I once DM'ed for.  The basis of this story is my character, Derrelli.  Consis Barghest is the property of my friend, Jake Batchelor.

When Fire Burns

By Daryll Pung

Being A Memoir Of The Youth Of Derrelli Grattef-Ranas, Jr.

PG13

PART 1- Kindling 

      Verikorisilian Ranas frowned as he gazed into the dancing flames.  It was supposed to be a happy occasion, for his people celebrated life, especially the beginning of a new life for a people to whom children came all too rarely.  He sighed as he turned from the grand fireplace, sculpted into the walls of his private chambers.  For how could he be happy, even though it was his only daughter giving birth this night?  The father of the child was hovering, happy and nervous at the same time.  All was as it should be, except for one thing.

      The father was human.

      Elves by nature tended towards isolationism, solely because so few races lived as long as they, or engendered such pleasure from simply being alive.  So, it was with some bitterness that Derrelli Grattef had come to marry his headstrong, beautiful daughter, Sylvinamarinasalas Ranas, princess of her people.  The exuberant wild mage hailed from a human town some distance away, and his eternal optimism allowed him to co-exist, even peacefully of late, with the elves, who already had their hands full with the princess' habits to worry about him being a wild mage.   For a race as long-lived as the elves, tradition was important.  And from an early age, Princess Sylvie stepped all over it.  She insisted on being in every game her brothers played, taking to wearing breeches under her short dresses (short at her insistence) just so she could play.  She insisted on learning magic when she was old enough, after watching the court mage for countless hours when she should have been learning to sing, paint, or play an instrument.  Worse yet, she insisted on learning the taboo magics of the invocation/evocation variety, because their effects were more to her hot-tempered tastes.  Then she yearned to travel.

      It was enough to make the Elfking's head spin.  Were it not for the pair's spirited magic defense of Ayernosti during the last conflict with the orcs, he doubted they would be accepted as they were now.  The two made a good team, and after the tiring battle where their spells were instrumental in turning the tide (thanks in part to a spectacular wild surge of one of Derrelli's spells) even the most unbending elves, the ones demanding he disown her, had seen fit to welcome the pair.

      And just when things quieted down, Princess Sylvinamarinasalas Grattef-Ranas had made an announcement.  Her pregnancy was met with differing opinions, but in the end, it was decided to accept and nurture the children of the two.

      Verikorisilian paced the plushly carpeted floors.  His chambers were expansive, and well appointed, but in the elven way.  Everything flowed together, everything blended in a harmony with nature, including the artwork adorning the walls.  He stopped and gazed at his favorite painting.  It always calmed him.  It was a depiction of the night heavens, perfectly capturing the passage of some unnamed comet.  He gazed out the only window, up towards the sky.

      While his people had agreed to nurture the children, that was the source of his worries.  Being of two worlds would be difficult enough.  The elves would react strongly when the children felt their human blood pulling them in opposite directions.  Verikorisilian's musing was interrupted as he noticed a shooting star, a good omen.

      Or was it?  The shooting star plummeted towards the elfwoods surrounding Ayernosti.  Its passage highlighted the graceful tower where he now stood, and it crashed in the trees nearby, lighting them aflame.  At that very moment, the piercing cries of an infant taking its first breaths filled the air.

      Verikorisilian wasn't sure what to make of it as he opened his door and ordered his scouts to make sure the flames didn't spread.  The he smiled.  He would act the proud grandfather, and celebrate with the rest. 

      After all, a new life had just begun in the midst of the fiery splendor, and that was always something to be celebrated.

PART 2- Combustion  

      He gazed at it intently.  Gradually, the tip of the light beam began to make a black spot.  Soon, wisps of smoke appeared, followed by the first small flames licking the twig in his pudgy hand.  He set the magnifier glass down so very carefully, just like his father said, and watched the flame slowly grow, dividing the twig.

      Just like me, he thought.  He was sitting alone, near the stream that led to the fishpond in the central square.  He was always alone, unless he was doing something with his parents.  The other elf children didn't want to play with the shy little half-breed, not that he fit in with the elves his age anyway.  He was half human, and he aged faster than they.  He was an introspective child, and loved to think.

      He was also extremely smart.  For a youngster barely five years old, he already spoke extremely well.  His parents said that boded well for him, especially since he was interested in the same thing they were. 

      Magic.

      Ever since he had first seen his mother light up a dark room simply by uttering strange words and moving her hands, the little boy wanted to be able to do the same.

      Maybe then he could resolve the differences in himself.  He wasn't aware of the depth of the blood within him, merely the results.  He knew he was a little rougher than he should be when dealing with other elves, knew he would be bigger, like he already was; for a five-year-old, anyway.

      So he sat, rumpled red hair moving in the breeze, revealing the pointy, but not so pointy, ears, green eyes focused on the twig, dressed in the jumpsuit that most elven children wore, in gray.  Holding in his hand something that fascinated him.  For the fire didn't seem to care what the differences were, it treated everything the same.  He stared, engrossed.  As the fire neared his hand, he dropped the twig into the bubbling water, watching the water swirl away with the twig as it was extinguished.

      He started as he heard his mother's soft, musical voice calling him.  Derrelli, Jr. climbed to his feet and ran to his mother.  She was holding the small red haired bundle that was his little sister, dressed in the flowing red dress that she always wore.  Her violet eyes twinkled as the child ran up.

      And for the moment, the youngster forgot what he was thinking about as he took his mother's hand and sat down to lunch, the delicious smells overruling all else and making his stomach rumble. 

      For now, all was serene in the paradise that was Ayernosti.

PART 3- Ablaze     

      It had been an exciting day.  Derrelli, Jr. leaned back in his chair.  He was in his father's home, studying while his father attended to some mage business.  His mother and sister were back in Ayernosti, while the ten-year-old had volunteered to come with his father again to visit other humans.

      Sometimes he just needed to be around humans, unlike his sister Chrysaliae, who was a real kind-hearted, lovable little girl.

      Especially his new friend, a human boy named Consis.  They had shared an adventure of sorts today, and Derrelli looked forward to the morrow for more.  Consis was the first person that had actually been nice to him, and he suspected magic was the thread that brought them together.

      For Consis was also interested in magic, and would soon be studying magic in the school here in town.  He had been somewhat envious upon hearing Derrelli already was, but not in a school.  That had started a heated conversation that eventually resulted in both boys laughing so hard they couldn't stand.

      It was the sort of thing that formed an instant friendship.

      He blinked, and realized his mind was wandering.  It was getting dark, and hard to read.  He got up, stretched, and moved to the oil lamp.  He concentrated on his finger.  The phrasing came easily to him, and a small poof of flame ignited the lamp.  Derrelli adjusted the knob until the flame within was bright enough for his reading.  Even elven infravision couldn't see words in the dark.  He sat back down to his book, but found he couldn't concentrate.

      He wondered what type of mage Consis would become.  He envied Consis, knowing that no one would tell him he couldn't be this, couldn't study that, because tradition said so.  There was no friction among humans about what a boy could study.  Derrelli once again called the little flame to his fingertip.  He gazed at it, lost in thought.

      Fire was so intriguing.  It consumed everything, cleansed everything with an indiscriminate desire.  It seemed uncontrollable.  Much like the conflict his two halves constantly put him through.

      That's what I'm going to do, what I'm going to become, he decided.  I will learn to control the fire, both the fire raging within me and all extensions thereof.

      And so the young apprentice sat in deep thought, gazing at the magical flame on his finger, having made a decision that would forever affect him, and the world around him.

PART 4- Bonfire 

      Father and son crested the last rise, accompanied for once by mother and daughter, torches flickering in the night breeze.  It had been eight years since Derrelli first met Consis, and the trips had grown more frequent.  This was only the third time that the entire family had made this trip. 

      Derrelli's apprenticeship was pretty much finished.  He was now a young mage, relatively inexperienced but potent nonetheless.  That made three mages in the family.

      But his little sister, while retaining some interest in magic, and being trained in it, was fascinated by archery.  At fourteen, she was already becoming quite skilled with her little bow, although her arrows were never sharp, at her parents' insistence.  She was determined to eventually become a world-class archer and a dabbler in magic.

      These thoughts were suddenly banished from Derrelli's mind as he beheld a fog bank at ground level where the town was supposed to be.

      "Father?" he asked as his father broke into a dead run.

      Derrelli was conscious of his mother chanting a Detect Magic spell, as he ran to join his father.

      "It's not natural!  Intense conjuration magic!" called Sylvina.

      "What the hell?" wondered Derrelli, Sr.

      "Momma, what's happening?" asked Chrysaliae.

      As Derrelli skidded to a stop by his father, a shape burst from the mist.  It was vaguely human, with pale white skin, burning red eyes, and a pair of sharp incisors.

      "More cattle to the slaughter!" it hissed.  "Much like the pitiful town!"

      "NO!" shouted both Derrellis.  Before they could even cast, a ball of white webbing impacted on the thing, wrapping it up and entangling it.  It plummeted back into the mist with a hoarse cry.

      "Let's go!  NOW!" shouted Sylvina, grabbing Chrysaliae's hand as the little girl cried in terror.  She shook her other hand clean of the remnants of the Web spell, and motioned for the other two.  Derrelli's father dragged him away.

      "Father!  The town-"

      "That was a vampire, Pyro.  The town is likely gone, which is what we need to be!  Let's go!" he snapped.  Derrelli followed, albeit reluctantly, motivated by fear.

      Thankfully, the vampire never showed up, for reasons they could not fathom. They finally relaxed as the sun burst over the horizon.  It would be some time before they slept without worrying about the fiend. 

      The news of the town shocked quite a few elves, and a constant magical ward was put in place around Ayernosti.

      I'll get to the bottom of this, someday, swore Derrelli, Jr.  And when I do....

PART 5- Inferno

      Derrelli crested the ridge, expecting to see the mist that never left.  It was approaching noon, and suddenly the awful stench of death assaulted his nose.  He frowned, and then blinked.

      The mist was gone.  All these years of study, trying to come up with a safe way to vanquish it, and suddenly it was no more.  In its place was a huge rift in the earth.

      Derrelli drew closer.  He approached the edge, and looked over.  The sight caused him to do a double take.

      The entirety of the rift was a village, or had been.  It looked like two villages had been crammed together forcefully.

      Derrelli drew out his two rings from within his gray mage robes, throwing the fiery red cloak over his shoulder.  One was a present from his father, now missing after disappearing in a spectacular wild surge two years previously.  These and his staff had been gifted him on his birthing day three years ago.  His father had enchanted two, and one was a present from the king.  The staff was his father's Staff of Light, although it was somewhat erratic.  He had yet to try the Wishing Ring, but the Ring of Feather Fall was tested and true.  Derrelli readied his staff and activated the ring's power, dropping down into the rift.  As he landed, he realized there was a vast quantity of dust around.  The he realized it was not dust, but ash.

      All around, in piles approximately the same size as a human.

      It struck Derrelli like a thunderbolt.  The town had somehow fallen prey to an underground vampire town, after which they came up with a covering of mist to protect them from the sun.  Apparently, one of the mages of the town had survived long enough to unleash the ultimate revenge - namely, dropping the mist cover in broad daylight, killing all of the vampires.

      He frowned.  There had to be proof of this farfetched theory.  He set out for what resembled a mage school.  Halfway there, a low growl arose near him.  He readied himself, preparing a spell.

      A large, rabid wolf burst from the ruined building nearby, charging him with astonishing speed.  Derrelli quickly chanted, then jumped back as the small dart of flame shot towards the oncoming beast.  It exploded as Derrelli dived behind a crumbled section of wall.  The flames from his Fireball raged overhead, causing him to sweat.  As they passed, he stuck his head out, and his gaze rested on the charred form of the wolf.  He got a closer look at the unmoving form of the beast and realized that the wolf had already been dead; an undead variety that survived whatever wrecked the cover.

      "Thanks.  Damn thing almost had me for lunch!" came a high-pitched voice, in heavily accented common.  Derrelli whirled, and pointed his staff at a three-foot tall kobold standing on top the very wall he had dived behind.  He thought for a second, and then murmured the words to a spell his mother had taught him.  Energy spiraled around him, and the little dog-like being blinked.  Derrelli realized through the spell that the kobold was a loner, a kindred spirit, not following the ways of most of his kind.  The kobold's fur was dark brown, as was the rat-like prehensile tail.  Its eyes still glowed faintly red, and it was dressed in a small black bodysuit with a dark blue cap (through which its goat-like horns protruded), and a dark blue vest and dark blue leather boots.  It carried a short sword and a backpack.  As the spell finished, the kobold seemed satisfied that Derrelli wasn't going to blast him, so it shrugged, reached into its pack, and withdrew two shiny red apples.

      "Care for one?" it offered.  Derrelli accepted, and gazed at the kobold thoughtfully as he savored the sweet juices of the first bite of apple.

      "Nice fireworks," commented the kobold.

      Derrelli smiled.  He leaned against the wall.  "What are you doing here?"

      The kobold grinned.  "Originally, I came to rip off the bloodsuckers.  I always loved sneaking into the bastard's lairs and taking their goodies, and I never got caught.  But today, I came and found that the whole lot of 'em was nothin' more than dust.  Seems some intrepid spell-lobber got creative."

      Derrelli glanced sharply at the kobold.  "So, you knew the layout of the place?"

      The kobold squinted at him.  "Somewhat.  It changed after the town collapsed in from above, but I got used to that, too."

      "Collapsed in from above?  So that's what happened," said Derrelli thoughtfully, chewing another chunk of apple.

      The kobold nodded.  "Yup.  'Suckers got lucky that night.  They had time to get up the mist 'fore the sun rose, and were set as far as meals were concerned."  It noticed Derrelli's angry look.  "Sorry, you knew somebody from the town?"

      Derrelli sighed.  "Yeah.  I was a good friend with another mage, name of Consis.  Speaking of names, what's yours?  I'm Derrelli Grattef-Ranas, Jr."

      "That a name or a tongue twister?" asked the kobold with a grin.  "Mine's nice an' simple.  I'm Mirk."

      Derrelli had to laugh.  Something about this liberated kobold just made one want to relax, and sit back and taste the apples.  Mirk finished his, chucked the core over his shoulder, and pulled out another one.  The easygoing little guy looked up at Derrelli.

      "So, why are you here?" Mirk asked.

       "Well, I've been trying ever since the mist replaced the town to figure out a way to counter it or safely explore it.  Of course, I always came during the day, since I knew vampires were involved."  He briefly related the story of the first encounter with the mist.  "Now that the problem is nullified, I want to know how.  Care to join me?  You could start by showing me the Mage School."

      Mirk thought for a second.  "Sure, what the hell.  Sounds like fun, and I can watch the pretty fireworks.  You got yourself a partner, partner.  This way."  Mirk jumped off the wall, gave the wolf corpse a good kick, and took another bite of apple as he jumped around bits of debris towards the building Derrelli had pegged as the mage school.  Derrelli could only smile as he finished his apple, and followed.

      Mirk approached the entrance cautiously.  He drew his sword silently, moving stealthily around the corner.  Satisfied, he waved Derrelli forward.  The two entered the run-down building.  Once in the relative safety of the building, Mirk sniffed cautiously before sheathing his sword.  They began to search.  It wasn't long before Mirk discovered a secret door, and the two moved carefully into the hidden room.

      It turned out to be a library, one that had been methodically stripped.  A piece of parchment, tacked to a desk, caught their eye.  There was no dust, suggesting that the place had been emptied recently.  Derrelli glanced at the parchment, and then read it aloud after realizing it was a note:

                  "To those who have found this, this is meant as a testament to human will.  It is through my own skill that I have paid back these creatures for what they have done to my kin.  I have given them the release of the sun, a painful way to die for their kind.  Such is the nature of my deadly wrath.

                                    -Consis"

      Derrelli grinned.  "He survived!  My friend Consis is the one who did this!  All right!"

      Mirk raised an eyebrow.  "Well, I wouldn't want to piss him off.  I'm glad he's your friend.  Let's see what else there is to see."

      It was a long time indeed before the two left the place, feeling tired but lighthearted.  Their travails had indeed paid off, this day.  Now all Derrelli had to do was find his friend, but at least he knew he was alive.

      And that made it easier to wait; that, and the excellent apple cider that Mirk shared as celebration.  Before long the two were too happily drunk to do anything but sleep.

PART 6- Firestorm

      They stood there.

      The room they were in measured approximately thirty feet by thirty feet.  The ceiling was ten feet above the floor.  The surroundings were moldy, damp stone, enhancing the reek of death that permeated the room.

      They still stood there.

      The room had a single entrance, and a single exit.  Locked, steel reinforced, heavy oaken doors sealed both, in surprisingly good condition considering the moist surroundings.

      They stood, silent and resolute.  For that was their lot.  Lacking the intellect of their more advanced cousins, all they could do was follow simple instructions.  Their instructions were simple, indeed: Kill any who came in the room.  So they stood, and waited, with a patience untouched by time or worry, for they had all the time in the world.  Their decaying bodies would decay no further, and they had no interest in mortal pursuits.

      They were effectively immortal.  They were undead.  They had already lived their lives, and had been laid to rest when their slumber had been disturbed.

      By one who still lived.

      And as much as they wished to kill all that was still living, he was powerful, more powerful than they.  After all, it was he who had given them unlife.

      So they obeyed, and waited, and stood, twenty strong.

      Then, a sound in the darkness; light shone under the entrance door, a bit of said light piercing the gloom.  A sound of metal on metal, then a clunk as the lock was opened.  The door opened a tiny bit.

      The smell of something alive reached them, and they began moving forward.  They raised their arms in anticipation, and began to shuffle towards the source of the smell.  The door flew open.

      "Zombies!" called the figure in the lead.  His green cloak hung about his shoulders, revealing his battle-worn chain mail.  He wielded twin blades, which spiraled about him in a dangerous dance of death.  "Let's do it!"

      The team formed themselves as they usually did.  The fighting force, four strong, stepped away from their backup, which were three strong.

      Twenty to seven.  It didn't seem fair.

      For the zombies.

      The figure in green held his twin magical long swords at length, jumping aside to let his companions through.  The light from the staff shone off his bald, hairless head, which was black like the rest of his kind.  The not so pointy ears signified him as a half-elf.  His eyes were deep purple, a trait he had acquired from his mother.  Still, he generally had a hard time with other elves, until his good nature was demonstrated.  For his features were those of the dark elves, the Drow.

      He was a half-dark elf, named Siko Mazri.  He jumped aside as the nine foot tall half-giant stepped through, with a huge grin on his face. 

      His sledgehammer-like maul seemed puny in his huge hands, and the son of a barbarian and a female stone giant, an unusual combination to say the least, readied himself for combat.  Lacking in the areas of intelligence, Atuk still was a master of fighting, using whatever he wanted in a fight.  His leathers and furs rustled as he adopted an undead-smashing battle stance.

      The short, plate-armored shape of the dwarf entered next, unslinging his twin, enchanted battleaxes, Havoc and Malice.  His dwarven-rune etched armor gleamed brightly, and his dark hair and beard merely accented the grin on his face as Biggh-Daghe Hamicyd readied himself for a fight.  He came from a long line of warriors, and he was determined to break the mold and make his own mark on the world.  He wielded his axes expertly, allowing the human to step in beside him.

      Black hair, black eyes, and a black gi were the defining characteristics of Wu Sheng, who was as apt to smash his foes with his nunchukas or his fists and feet.  He was cocky, sarcastic... and his humor was usually a welcome diversion. He too came from a long line of warriors, but he doubted his predecessors would approve of him.  He also didn't care.

      Now that the four fighters were in place, they stepped forward to allow their backup in the chamber.  The first one through was dressed in the white satin robes that clearly accented her body, and marked her as a cleric of Mere.  Her holiness was second only to her elven beauty, for she was a full elf.  An orphan of an elven settlement once overrun by orcs, she had been adopted by the clerics of her order and raised in their ways.  She was a capable healer, and in a fight, Emilisana Brightheart wielded her flail with divine power.  Emilie also knew a few combat spells, adding to her usefulness.

      The last through was the person holding the lit staff, and his kobold companion.  Mirk and Derrelli brought up the rear.  The kobold scout (and thief, but nobody seemed to mind as he only stole from their adversaries) had picked the lock and generally covered Derrelli while he cast his spells.

      And so the group readied themselves as the first zombies drew within range.  Siko glanced at Derrelli, and raised an eyebrow in the symbol for "spells?".  The half-elf fire mage shook his head no.  Siko nodded. 

      "Okay, Omega.  No spells, they're only zombies.  Emilie, turn 'em.  We'll take care of the rest," Siko said quietly.  The fighters grinned, and Emilie stepped forward, calling upon her divine powers as she raised her symbol, now glowing with energy.  The glare of the holiness was blinding to the zombies, which backed away until they couldn't any more.  The fighters charged.  As they neared the zombies, they braced themselves, knowing from experience that their attacking would break the turn.

      Siko struck first, slashing with deadly precision, spiraling around the first zombie and sweeping up with his second blade.  Atuk swung his maul, crushing a zombie instantly, before smashing another's skull in.  The headless body swung wildly until Atuk crushed the body as well.

      Wu and Biggh-Daghe began their usual tag team antics.  Biggh-Daghe hurled his axes, and then ducked as Wu executed a spiral kick over his head.  He reached up to catch his axes in the same moment Wu finished a swing with his nunchukas.  Six more zombies fell, twitching.

      Siko dropped back and parried the powerful punches of the zombies.  He had been isolated, and was now simply trying to prevent damage to himself.  All he needed was a little distraction...

      He got it in the form of Mirk backstabbing one of the zombies with his special short sword.  The zombie collapsed, and the four others nearby turned and tried to grab the nimble little kobold.  Siko seized the opportunity and drove his swords straight through two of them, then pulled them out.  As they dropped, he cut low with both swords, and then drove high.  The last two zombies threatening Mirk split into two halves, top to bottom, before collapsing.

      Biggh-Daghe was simply hacking away, driving both axes full force into the chests of the three zombies in front of him.  As the three collapsed, he caught a glimpse of white energy off to his side.  He turned to see a powered-up flail impact on a zombie that was threatening him from behind, and grinned as Emilie's flail disintegrated the zombie.  He glanced to his left, seeing Derrelli, Siko, and Mirk smiling and shaking their heads at something, then looked to his right.

      He couldn't help but laugh.

      In his oversized hands, Atuk held the final zombie upside down.  Its arms were gone, ripped off by Atuk.  He held it at the proper height, and Wu was prancing around like he was in a training room, treating the zombie's head as a punching bag.  He hit it with a rapid repeating left-right combo, then dropped back a step and snap-kicked it. The head lolled about the shoulders, and Wu stepped back, brought both hands together in a praying motion, and bowed.  At that precise second, Atuk drove the zombie into the stone floor, completely crushing it.

      Mirk applauded.  "Bravo!  Bravo!"  Then the little kobold scrambled about, searching the zombies for treasure.  He shook his head in disgust as he rejoined them.  They were cleaning up their weapons.

      "Nothing, as usual," sighed Mirk.

      Wu sniffed.  "Is it just me, or is everyone getting sick of fighting undead?"

      "Dead bads fun," proclaimed Atuk.

      Biggh-Daghe grinned.  "Hey, we may not getting much in the way of loot, but the king's reward for clearing this joint and restoring his trade routes is very nice.  Not to mention, we can probably get letters of recommendation for juicier jobs elsewhere."

      Emilie frowned.  It seemed out of place on her pretty, serene face. "Destroying these foul abominations should be reward enough."

      "True enough," said Derrelli.  "Though I'm bored.  Chrysaliae recommended this job because she thought it would be a challenge.  So far, I've used one Burning Hands spell, and that was because I was tired of not participating."

      Siko looked about before speaking in his quiet, calm manner.  "Well, that may not be long in coming, my friend.  The undead are getting harder.  Soon, your fiery magic may be completely necessary."

      Biggh-Daghe squinted.  "Speaking of your sister, why isn't Chrysaliae with us on this job?  Her archery skills are amazing."

      Wu grinned.

      Derrelli shook his head and appraised Wu and Biggh-Daghe.  "She isn't quite over that door incident yet."

      Wu laughed.  "Oops."

      Siko shook his head with a smile.  "Enough.  Let's move, shall we?"

      With that, the Omega Adventuring Company moved to the exit.  Mirk set about examining the area for traps before applying himself to the lock.

      And so it continued, with the opposition steadily getting tougher.  Before long, they were facing incorporeal undead, and Derrelli began throwing his spells more frequently.  It wasn't so much that he was the only one who could hurt their enemies, merely that no one wanted to get close.  The higher forms of undead had life-energy draining capability, and nobody was too eager to experience that!

      Things calmed down after the wraiths they were facing ate a few fireballs. 

      The next chamber contained a group of wights.  Still retaining human shape, and possessing energy-draining capabilities, they were nonetheless less dangerous than the previous encounter... with the exception of their sheer numbers.  Forty wights were crammed into the chamber.

      Derrelli frowned.  "I'll thin 'em out!  Get ready!"  With that warning, he chanted.  A swirl of flame rose about him, and culminated onto his finger.  The fiery dart shot out, and impacted on the lead element of wights.  Twenty-three died in the resulting exploding Fireball.  The deafening impact and shockwave passed, and Omega leapt into action.  Siko's hand outstretched, and a quick chant let fly five glowing green spheres, which impacted on the wight in front of him.  He drew his swords and dropped into a tight spiral, neatly slicing his Magic Missile target in three.  As it collapsed, he lunged forward and executed a quick double slash, with a half step forward.  Two more wights fell.

      Atuk's answer was more direct.  He swung his maul in wide arcs, smashing the wights into bloody pulps.  He cut down four, and was remotely surprised when a column of fire poured down on one that had been sneaking up from behind him.  He turned to see Emilie holding her glowing holy symbol, and smiled.  Another one approached, and as Atuk turned to face it, he felt it touch him.  He staggered as his lifeforce was drained. He roared in anger, to see a dark blur slam into the wight from behind.  The wight staggered as a short sword was withdrawn from its chest.  Mirk jumped free as the wight died... again.  Emilie rushed up to Atuk, and one hand laid on him as the other held her holy symbol tight.

      "Oh, Great Mere, Mother of all, I pray to thee.  Please restore this noble person and eliminate the wrong done unto him by the vile undead!  I beseech thee!  Restoration!" prayed Emilie, concentrating hard.  A soft white glow surrounded her, and passed to Atuk. When it faded, Atuk felt his strength and life energy return, and Emilie relaxed and smiled at him.

      "Atuk thank twinkle girl for making ouch in fun go bye," he rumbled.

      "My pleasure, Atuk," she replied in her soft manner and lovely voice.  They turned their attention back to the matters at hand, noting that Mirk had been guarding them all the while.

      In the meantime...

      Biggh-Daghe was fully prepared to go to war, axes held at the ready, when Wu whispered something in his ear.  He grinned, and nodded.  He pulled his axes closer, sharp edges out, and braced himself.  He felt Wu pick him up and throw with all his might, launching Biggh-Daghe into a tight spiral.  He whistled through the air, axes twirling, and impacted hard into three wights, which allowed him to roll over them and land gracefully on his feet.  He immediately turned and slammed his axes into a wight's chest, cutting it down as well.

      Wu leapt forward, rolling along the ground.  He came up with nunchukas whirling, slamming them into the nearest wight with full force.  He turned as it fell, viciously launching himself at another.  It too crumpled under his attack.  Another came at him, and he was conscious of Biggh-Daghe's proximity.  He dropped, and swept-kicked the wight.  It tumbled forward, right into Havoc.  Biggh-Daghe pulled his axe from the wight, and saw the warning in Wu's eyes.  He swung back viciously with Malice, cutting the wight's legs off at the knees.  It fell forward, right as Wu launched himself up with his nunchukas, clobbering the wight.  The wight collapsed.

      Biggh-Daghe blinked.  The last wight moved behind Wu, and prepared to swipe.  "Look out-"

      He never got to finish the warning as five glowing green spheres and a fiery arrow-shape slammed into the wight, knocking it off its feet and slamming it into the wall, where the arrow set it aflame.  It died horribly, fire raging over it.  Finally, it stopped moving, and Omega relaxed, surveying the carnage.

      "Well, that was fun," said Wu as Mirk searched.  They watched the little kobold move carefully around, occasionally stabbing a wight that was still barely un-alive, searching for anything useful.  It was then when Derrelli raised his staff so the light from it highlighted the exit.

      "Well, look at this," he said.  He uttered a command word, and his staff pulsed for a split second.  "It's not magically enchanted, just ornately carved."  Indeed it was.  The door was carved with a likeness of Death, complete with a scythe.  Mirk approached.

      "Nothing," he said, eyeing the door.  He carefully examined the area, and approached the door.  Omega started to get closer when he held up his hand.  He carefully removed from his pack a small cloth bundle, careful not to shift his weight.  Derrelli shifted his light.

      Mirk was standing on a pressure plate.

      Mirk carefully, delicately, unrolled the cloth, selecting a few implements from his collection of tools.  He slowly leaned forward, then eyed the surroundings carefully, and smiled.  It would be easier to disarm if triggered, he thought to himself, and it won't hurt me, 'cause I'm too short.  He moved off the plate.  Suddenly, the scythe from the door snapped forward, arcing inches above Mirk's head.  It grazed the wall.  While triggered, Mirk reached up and got to work.  There was an audible thunk, and the scythe was no longer spring-loaded.  The pressure plate lowered about an inch, as the trap was disarmed.  He drew his short sword, and popped the scythe out of its socket, tossing it aside.

      "Clever," commented Siko.  Mirk nodded.

      "Not too clever, though," smiled Mirk.  He examined the lock, and grinned.  "Which explains why the lock is also trapped."  He set to work.  Moments later, a click and a thunk, and he drew out the needle and tossed it aside.  He then turned the handle after replacing his tools where they belonged.  The door opened.  He examined the immediate area, and pronounced it clear.  Omega stepped in the room.

      As Derrelli came through last, the door swung shut behind him.  He blinked as a sheet of stone slid down over the door.  Mirk frowned.  "Okay, I detected no pressure plates..."

      "Shh!" hissed Emilie.  "There's something malevolently evil in here!"  They paused and examined their surroundings carefully.  They couldn't see the ceiling, or the walls, other than the immediate area of the light of Derrelli's staff.  There was a hiss, and suddenly torches burst into life all around the chamber.  The only thing was they glowed with an eerie blue flame.

      The light highlighted the immensity of the chamber, and the massive dragon skeleton that filled it.

      "Spooky," whispered Wu.

      "Something's not right..." murmured Emilie, gazing intently at the skeleton.  She gasped as the eye sockets lit with red fire.  She hurriedly raised her symbol, and prayed.  Holy energy surrounded them in a protective field as the skeleton moved upright.  It yawned.

      "Well, well.  I wonder how long your little protective field will last," the thing growled.

      "That's not just a skeleton!" gasped Siko.

      "I don't believe this," said Derrelli quietly.  "It's a dracolich!  An undead dragon!" As he spoke, another figure approached from the gloom.  He drew into the light of Derrelli's staff.  The figure was clothed in black robes, and carried a staff made of gleaming white bone, topped with a black opal.  The opal glowed with dark energy.  The most striking thing about the figure wasn't the fact that he was human, but the fact that atop his head was perched a pink wizard's hat.

      "What have we here?" the voice said quietly.  Derrelli blinked in surprise.  He knew that voice.

      The dracolich grinned.  It was an evil expression, to say the least.  "Well, they're quite well protected at this time, but that field won't last forever."

      "And then, Abisanth, I imagine you'll be quite hungry, huh?" the voice said.

      Siko glanced at the party.  "We need a plan, and quick!" he said.  He noticed Derrelli seemed to be in shock.

      "No matter," said the voice calmly, regarding them.  It sounded more thoughtful as it spoke again.  "Still, don't underestimate them.  They're quite powerful, and-"

      "Consis," said Derrelli.

      The chamber went dead silent.  The figure stepped closer, the light of Derrelli's staff clearly showing the face of the figure.  Omega stared at Derrelli.

      "Derrelli," said Consis quietly.  The two stared at each other for a long moment. 

      "Consis, why?" asked Derrelli.  Consis frowned.

      "How can you ask me that, Pyro?" he replied, leaning on his staff.  The use of the old nickname showed the familiarity of the two friends.

      "How can I- do you know how long I've been searching for you?" demanded Derrelli.  "Ever since-"

      "-my town fell prey to vampires," returned Consis evenly.  "What, you're the only one allowed to be driven by a desire to conquer something?"  Consis shook his head.  "What are you doing here?"

      "The king's trade routes have been plagued as of late by undead attacking.  We were hired to end the threat," said Derrelli.

      "The threat is over," said Consis.  He looked hard at Derrelli.  "That was merely a stage in my experimentation.  I give you my word that such threats will bother people no more.  As it were, we are leaving this place soon anyway."  He indicated the dracolich and himself.

      Derrelli remembered that Consis' promises were kept.  He's a necromancer, thought Derrelli. But is that a bad thing?  He's still good at heart....  Derrelli was torn inside.  He decided to play nice.

      "Come with us," he offered.  Omega looked at him like he was crazy. 

      "I cannot.  There are things I must yet accomplish," said Consis.  He looked thoughtful.  "Perhaps someday.  As it is... leave this place.  If you wish, you may stick around outside to witness.  Soon this place will be destroyed, and you can report to your king that your mission was successful."

      "You're letting us go?" blinked Siko. 

      "You're letting them go?" gasped Abisanth.

      "Yes," said Consis.  He glared at the dracolich.  It sighed, and nodded.

      "But we can't just let such evil go rampant-" began Emilie.

      "Yes we can," said Derrelli.  He looked around at Omega as the stone wall blocking the exit slid up and the door unlocked.  "We can, and we will."

      "But-" began Emilie.  He cut her off, apologetically.

      "Now," he said forcefully.

      Omega reluctantly left the chamber, Derrelli last of all.  He looked back, meeting Consis' gaze.  Then, in a flash, he understood.  He nodded, to see it returned.

      "Farewell, Pyro," said Consis calmly.  "Have a good life."

      "You too, old friend," said Derrelli quietly.  "Farewell."

      The door closed behind him, and Derrelli didn't look back.

PART 7- Campfire Reflections     

      "I still don't get it!" raged Emilie.  "Why did we let such evil go untouched?"  It was a feeling Siko, Atuk, Biggh-Daghe, and Mirk shared.  Wu was simply disappointed that they didn't fight the dracolich.  They were camped out near the entrance of the dungeon, waiting patiently while the smoke issued forth, for the fires within to die out, so they could verify its destruction.  They had set up camp, and a campfire was blazing brightly away while Derrelli stood at the edge of the camp, lost in thought.  He noted the dark shape flying away in the darkening twilight.  A smile came to his face.

      "He's not evil," said Derrelli, turning to face Omega.  They blinked.

      "But he's a necromancer," snapped Siko.

      "Emilie also uses necromantic magic," Derrelli smiled, eyebrow raised.

      "Huh?" asked Biggh-Daghe.

      "Necromancy is the study of death... and life.  Healing, resurrection, these are all forms of necromantic magic.  Necromancy is the hardest type of magic to judge, as it all depends on how it is used.  And to be sure, none of the attacks on the trade routes ended with anyone dying," explained Derrelli.  "Consis is still a good person.  He is just driven, like I am."

      "Driven?" asked Wu.  Emilie was calming down, listening to Derrelli's words and thinking.

      "Yes.  My whole goal in life is to master fire.  His is similar, and far more difficult. Through the ages, many have tried to master what Consis is seeking to master," Derrelli stated quietly.

      "And that is?" asked Mirk.

      "Life, Death, and life," supplied Emilie, looking up.  "He is seeking to conquer the natural forces which define us."

      "Perhaps he will succeed," said Derrelli.  He glanced at the night sky as the first stars came out.  "If so, he will be the first.  In the meantime, we will continue on our lives.  Perhaps one day our paths will merge again.  Until then..."

      The night was fully upon them, and the Omega Adventuring Company settled down, gazing into the flames, lulled into peace.  Derrelli smiled as he gazed into the fires he was beginning to master.  He hoped his friend would have similar success.

      "Good luck, Consis," he said quietly.  He allowed his gaze to linger in the fires, which reflected in his eyes.  For the first time he could remember, he was completely at peace.

      And still the fire burned on...

The End

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