Devils Gate Keep

a_libertine

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Lukas walked along the road that led to Silverymoon from Waterdeep. It had been a long haul, trolls, orcs, and barbarians once or twice all tried to foil his path. It wasn't a hard path to follow, Shaundakul always seemed to be able to put the wind firmly between your shoulder blades and pushed you along.

Entering the southwest gate, called Blacklar Gate, Lukas made his way across the river and into the city proper. As he crossed the translucent force bridge, the wind shifted slightly to the north west.

Following the wind, Lukas felt it die off at the inn called, Wayward House. Stepping in, his short frame glided across the nearly empty establishment. A waitress came up asking, "May I help you sir?"

Lukas looked up at the woman, astonished at the height that some people could attain. His paltry height of 5'5" afforded Lukas the opportunity to look up at most of the world. "Yes," Lukas responded with a warm smile, "I'll take a drink, a bath, a drink, a meal, a drink, a bath, and then a drink and a room please."

The waitress smiled, and said, "Ale to start?"

Lukas shook his head and muttered, "Fire Water and then ale, if you please."

The waitress looked down a smile splitting her face and teased, "So that is actually, a drink, a drink, a bath, a drink, and whatever else?"

Lukas smiled and replied, "Aye, I guess that it is."

An hour later, Lukas was in the portion of the list that comprised of the meal, amended to have a drink with it when the door banged open. Glancing up Lukas saw an elven woman coming into the inn.

Short for an elf, she carried their traditional thin frame in an evocative manner. Her raven hair was wound in a tight braid that reached her hips, and perhaps a little below. Lukas was positive, if un-braided, it would fall to her knees. Her hair seemed to shimmer in the light with a green highlight, the color of a fresh shoot on a bush. Her eyes burned like the golden sun, casting light where ever she looked, roasting alive those who caught her glance for more than a moment.

Around her neck lay a piece of silk with a pendent or clasp that lay flat against her fair skin. Her breasts and hips both were clad in the same silken fabric as the necklace, the blouse no wider than a hand span, the skirt slit along each leg, her thighs flashing out with each step.

She carried two bejeweled daggers, one on her hip the other strapped to her calf. Lukas caught himself staring a moment too late. Her golden eyes had found his, and with a blush, he muttered, "Err, sorry."
 
"Magic is not a toy," her Master would have told her, and set her to work translating some impenetrable epic of draconic poetry for the next thirteen days, but he was gone now. He was buried and she was on her own in Waterdeep, and those filthy mercenaries thought that just because the wee elf lass was a bit the worse for drink, that she would entertain them in the alley behind the tavern. They had acted like pigs, so they became pigs. She was fairly sure the spell would wear off before anyone caught and butchered them, though one could never be absolutely certain.

On the other hand, it had seemed wise to find somewhere else to drink, in case their friends saw things differently. Fortunately, finding somewhere else to drink was a matter of walking around the corner and into the first open door. This place was relatively brightly lit, which was a terrible disservice to most of the patrons, but it looked clean enough.

There was a small man staring at her, who blushed and muttered an apology when she noticed him. He had food and ale in front of him and no company. She smiled to herself and with a vague wave of her fingers pulled a chair up to his table and sat down, ignoring the indignant curses from an unfortunate merchant who suddenly found himself on the floor.

She addressed the small man in front of her as she picked a bit of bacon off his plate and popped it in her mouth. "After tonight I would be very careful about eating pork in this neighborhood," she warned, her voice as musical as an elf's voice should be, if ever so slightly off tempo. "I am sure that you have done a great many things in your life that you should be sorry for, but I am happy to say that no evil you have done here this night cannot be redeemed by providing me with a glass of elven brandy."
 
Lukas eyed his meal suspiciously then pushed it off to the side as he looked at the beauty that now sat across from him, saying,

"I am sure that you have done a great many things in your life that you should be sorry for, but I am happy to say that no evil you have done here this night cannot be redeemed by providing me with a glass of elven brandy."​

A half smile spread across the left side of his face as Lukas responded in a surprisingly rich baritone, "It would be my pleasure to purchase you a brandy."

Walking to the bar, Lukas ordered then headed back to the table. His mind filled with images of his time during the Times of Trouble, how he and his companions were stuck in the City of Myth Drannor as the gods themselves were thrust from the heavens.

Flipping his light blond hair out of his green eyes, Lukas sat studying his companion for the nonce a little. Her hands were fair and dainty, didn't appear to have the callouses that swinging a blade for a living tended to develop. Sitting, Lukas said, "Pleasure to have your company, Lukas is my name."
 
Lukas. She rolled the name around her mind as she rolled the first sip of brandy around her tongue. The name was not familiar to her, but the heat of the brandy that seemed to spread through her chest when she swallowed it was familiar. Though the last time she had tasted it, she had wound up facing a choice between execution and apprenticeship to the wizard whose griffin she had accidentally set free. She had only meant to take it for a joy ride. Who knew it would just fly off afterwords?

"Lukas," she said, trying the name out. It seemed a good name to her. "I am called Megillanc, and you are quite right. It is a pleasure to have my company." She winked and lifted the glass of brandy. "You have my thanks for this. Your generosity is exceeded only by your wisdom, or something."

She let her eye rest on his for a moment, remembering the thousand shades of green in the forests of her home and wondering that one eye could hold as much color. Then she blinked and took another sip of brandy. "Dangerous stuff," she murmured, and then giggled softly. "And what path have your feet followed that has led you to this meeting, Lukas?"
 
Lukas watched as the flush spread across Megillanc's face, throat and upper torso, the powerful drink working its way through her. She had fair dainty movements, belying to some degree her bravado. The way her eyes held his while appraising, was nearly tender. For the briefest of moments, his mind fell back to Myth Drannor, the horrors and pleasures that he had found there.

"My path," Lukas began, "Is the simplest of all paths to follow. I put The Wind at my back and let it lead me where it will." Sweeping his hand expansively, taking in Megillanc and the inn, Lukas said, "Which is what brings me to you and this lovely place."

Draining the remnants of his ale, Lukas said, "Tomorrow? Who knows, if it is Shaundakul's will that I stay, I stay. If not then I will be on the road again."

He glanced at the half eaten dinner and smiled ruefully, "Something tells me if you are traveling with me, then the wind will blow soon."

Looking back up at the golden wheat fields that were her eyes, Lukas asked, "What mischief brings you here?"
 
She narrowed her eyes as he spoke. Just before he began there was a sort of twitch in his expression, a curling of his lip ad a distance in his eye. There was something on his mind, something he wasn't telling her. She could force him to share his secrets with the right spells, she thought, and then shook her head. It was curiosity that always got her into trouble, and if she ensorcelled every man in every tavern who was keeping a secret, she would drain the world of all its magic, and learn far too much about all the petty ways men found to cheat in business or marriage.

Instead of trying to pry his secrets from him, she downed the rest of her brandy and held up the empty glass in clear view of a harried looking barmaid, who made the glass disappear. "If you go where you are blown... or rather ... where the wind takes you ... and you keep the wind at your back, it sounds as if your path is following you."

The barmaid hurried past and to Meg's delight, another glass appeared and she ran her finger around the rim. She grinned and looked into Lukas's eye again, watching the way his hair hung across his face, forcing him to brush it back. "I am here to discover what I will be. What I was can no longer be. Perhaps I'm like you, waiting for a good stiff breeze."

She frowned a moment, staring into the glass and then took a healthy gulp that made her shiver as it went down. Not so drunk that she couldn't feel it burn, she thought. "I wonder why you think we might travel together? One might almost think you had an idea of which way the wind might blow and where that might lead."
 
Lukas ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off of his face and smiled warmly at Megillanc. For a moment he considered the myriad of answers he could give from the flirtatious to the serious, then settled on flirtatious, "Because if you aren't the reason I am here, I am going to cry all night."

As his mind replayed her answer, Lukas asked with a smile, "What were you that you can no longer be? And what do you want to be when you grow up?"
 
She glanced over both shoulders and then pulled a square of bright silk out of the air. She leaned forward with a wicked grin to whisper, "You will need this, then, to wipe away your tears, for the reason you are here is the wind, and as flighty as I may seem, I am not she."

"As for myself. What I was was apprentice to a Master who is no more. When I grow up, I will be as my experiences have made me. As I have not had them, I can hardly predict how they will shape me. You must have been raised among men to ask me to predict my future like that." She sat back, sipping her brandy, feeling her freedom as an emptiness.
 
Lukas smiled as he accepted the silken bolt of cloth from Megillanc, saying, "Oh good, it is silk, so not so many tears tonight."

Lukas waved at the waitress to bring another round of drinks and saw a momentary glimpse of something other than mischievous humor. Leaning forward, Lukas placed his forearms against the edge of the table and said, "As a point, the Wind is Shaundakul; and he is male. As far as asking what the future would be, I was not looking for a prediction, but an aspiration."

His face softened into a concerned expression, and muttered, "As far as you joining me on my adventure, can't a man dream that a vision of heaven would come along for the thrills of adventures?"
 
She raised an eyebrow as the barmaid delivered a new round of drinks. Her eyes rose slowly from the fresh glass of brandy before her to the man across from her. Her lips quirked as she held back a smile at his flattery. She curled her fingers carefully around the glass and raised it, nodding her thanks, and took a sip. If he wished to get her drunk, she thought, she would not object.

"A visionary and a dreamer whose aspiration is to be a leaf before the wind?" she said, with a playful smile. "As you are so generous with your praise, I will satisfy your curiosity. I aspire to drink, eventually to sleep, and to honor Master's wisdom by finding a challenge worthy of his faith in me. If you should find that Shaundakul steers you towards such a destination, then my company is gladly given."

She blinked a few times, trying to focus on her glass. She took a careful sip and smiled at the silk cloth. Perhaps she could conjure a bed when the time came for sleep.
 
Lukas smile easily as Megillanc took a sip from the fresh glass of brandy, it was clearly having an impact on her, and for a moment worried that she may over do it. "My wind has a purpose Megillanc, it is not frivolous, nor capricious. Each of my steps leads me to an end that Shaundakul has in mind for me and those around me."

Leaning back in his chair slightly Lukas asked, "Why is it you are drinking so?"
 
She looked for a moment, trying to read his expression. She had hoped to steer clear of it for at least one night, but now it was in her mind, there was no use pretending it wasn't. And if he didn't want to hear it, which she suspected that he probably didn't, then he shouldn't have asked.

"Several years ago there was a girl with a little bit of talent and far too much curiosity. She once took something that was not hers and caused it to be lost. The girl should have had her head cut off, but the wizard she had stolen from asked the courts to spare her life, in return for her becoming his apprentice. For many years he taught her and guided her. At first she fought against his ideas and wanted only to be free to do as she pleased from moment to moment again. Over the years she came to believe that she did far more harm than good living that way, but by accepting direction and focusing her efforts, she was capable of doing much good. Then he died, and that is why I am drinking."

She lifted her glass and sat back.
 
Lukas sat, listening to Megillanc's story with a calm, nearly expressionless face. The pain of the experience was clearly etched on her face, the pain just below the surface. His heart ached for her lose a moment.

Lukas stared toward the door a moment wondering how he could bring a smile back to her face and then stood. Giving Megillanc a knowing smile he said, "If you would like to see something beautiful that you have never seen before, I'll get my sword and will meet you outside."

Turning he strode across the room and took the stairs two at a time. There was about an hour until sunset, it would be a perfect time. Unlocking the door to his room, Lukas grabbed the hilt of a two handed sword, but this sword had no blade. A diamond the size of a babies hand served as the pummel, the grip twined with gold and silver threads. The guard was two stylized tornadoes the bases of which met at the grip.

Hanging the hilt on the baldric which he donned. Heading back down the stairs, Lukas hoped to find Megillanc waiting for him.
 
She watched him walk upstairs and shrugged, nourishing her drink. It was the second time tonight someone had tried to lure her outside to show off their weapons. At least the pigs hadn't bothered asking for her misery just to blow it off. She scowled. The worst of it was that she was proving her master right. A few drinks and she thought she was spilling her guts to some fruitbat mystic who worshipped a windbag. She wondered if she could turn him into pollen and let him really follow the wind. She polished off the brandy, knowing it wouldn't help and stood up, pausing a moment as the room lurched. She would find a place to sleep it off. Tmorrow was soon enough to figure out a plan, and gods help anyone else who tried to mess with her until then. She wandered out the door, smiling grimly to herself.
 
Lukas saw Megillanc closing the door with a thud behind her, her gait appearing a little unsteady. A rueful smile crossed his face as he went outside, a little cold may do her some good. "Megillanc," he called out as he slid out the door.

Her unsteady turn was an indication that the brandy that she had been consuming had indeed began adversely impacting her system. His smile was wide and genuine as he said, "Hold onto my hand."

Praising Shaundakul, Lukas began floating up in the air, the longer and louder the praise the higher and faster he and Megillanc rose into the air. Higher and higher they rose, until the entire town of Silverymoon was no larger than one of their balled up fists.

Facing the east, Lukas pointed far off near the horizon, "See that? That is darkness creeping across the land. It always starts low and far away then creeps forward and up. Daylight comes back in nearly the opposite manner. From high to low, but still far to close."
 
He called to her as she reeled out of the inn, and before she could think of the right curse for him, he had grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the sky. She writhed in his grip, trying to pull away and get off a spell, but his grip was too strong. Then they were too far up, and he was chanting to his poxy wind-god as they rose higher and higher, over the wilderness. She clenched her teeth as she looked down and the world spun beneath them. He was talking about darkness and light as though the sunrise was some kind of miracle. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her sick.

She would escape him, one way or another. If he was counting on the height to keep her docile, he had misjudged her, badly. She twisted to grab his wrist, so they were clasping wrists like friends, and then jerked herself towards him. She pulled herself onto his back and wrapped her legs around his waist, gripping him tight. With her free hand, she took the dagger from her hip and touched it to his neck.

"Both of us will live longer if you take us down now," she snarled in his ear, "but if you doubt that I will slit your throat and die rather than let you kidnap me, then by all means, let us find out."
 
Lukas arched an eyebrow as he craned his head back to look at Megillanc. "Really? I must say, I rather like the feel of your arms and legs around me, but the dagger is disconcerting."

With a brief thought, Lukas plummeted fifty feet leaving Megillanc 'sitting' in the air where he had left her.

Floating back up next to her he said flatly, "You may go. Think 'downward like a feather,' and you will float down and land in plenty of time before the spell runs out."
 
She was pleasantly surprised not to be dead upon reaching the ground, and immediately fell back, trembling. Where she had come down, she wasn't certain, but it was quiet and wooded and seemed safe enough. She knew there was a chance the wind-priest might be hovering around, but there was little she could do about him unless he revealed himself.

Truly, he hadn't seemed angry or vengeful at the end, just offended. Maybe next time he'd ask before he started dragging people off. She sighed and let sleep take her. There would be tomorrow to figure out where she had fallen.
 
Lukas watched as Megillanc began her slow descent, making sure she landed someplace safe. A groan escaped him as he watched her float toward a forest to the north of Silverymoon. Lukas doubted any forest was as dangerous as Cormanthor was but no forest was safe.

With a thought Lukas plummeted, the sound of air roaring passed his ears, the thunderous beating of his heart made Lukas yell in exultation as he followed the lovely elf.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized that he would not catch her before she plummeted through the tree tops. Keeping his eye on the canopy where she entered as well as he could, Lukas lifted the hilt from the baldric and whispered a prayer. At the completion of the prayer, a new whistling, lower more melodic, filled the air as Lukas slowed his descent.

The low whistling came from a small tornado attached to the hilt that Lukas held. It was upside down, about six feet long and whistled prettily, like a spring breeze through wind chimes, at least to Lukas' mind. He knew that those that would oppose him heard it as a true tornado, and the thunderous roar that encompasses.

It took thirty minutes of searching, but Lukas found Megillanc sleeping curled up around the trunk of a duskwood tree. Kissing the pommel of his two handed whirlwind of a blade, the whirl wind ended.

Looking down at Megillanc, Lukas smiled as he sat across from her, passing the night watching over her, until sometime between the witches hour and dawn, her golden eyes flitted open.
 
Not quite day, but night slowly giving way to light. A pebble or, no, an acorn poking her ribs where she lay. The sledgehammer pounding in her skull and the demon writhing in her belly were cause enough to regret the night, but waking up on the ground in some mysterious forest was definitely a bad sign. She had a vague memory of flying, terrified far above the ground. She couldn't have stolen another griffon, though, nobody had managed to tame any since the last time.

She sat up and groaned, looking around. The forest was all ancient duskwood trees draped in vines and the earth covered with a thick mat of moss. The ashen grey color of the earth that she brushed off her face and side wheere she had lain told her where she was, if knowing what nearly endless forest you were in the middle of counted as knowing where you were. The Moonwood, which meant that she should be safe to drink the water, if she could find a stream. It meant other things as well, but it seemed better not to think of them yet.

She took a deep breath, gathering the strength to stand, when she saw the man watching her. She tried to gather energy, just for a simple spell of friendship, but even that seemed too much. She silently whispered a promise never to drink elven brandy again and gave the man a weak smile, the best she was capable of. At least he didn't seem to realize how weakened she was.

He did look familiar. He wasn't one of the pigs, though. She'd have been able to smell them from across the glade. It came to her in fragments. Her shock at being hauled into the sky. His wind god. Her dagger at his throat. The brandy. His abrupt departure after she told him her story. His name. Lukas. She didn't feel as if she had been molested in the night, except by the acorn. She slowly dragged herself to her feet, bracing herself against the tree trunk and ignoring the protests of her body.

"If you'd wanted to kill me you'd have done it while I slept," she said, flatly. "I would ask what your purpose was when you dragged me out to this godforsaken wilderness, but I know your answer already." She pointed up, where the breeze was rustling through the branches. "Unless perhaps your wind blew a jug of water somewhere close, I will be on my way."
 
Lukas looked at Megillanc and said, "Well, I can certainly take care of the hangover for you."

He walked up with a questioning look directed toward her, and seeing a feigned indifference, Lukas whispered a spell to Shaundakul and then touched Megillanc's arm.

Within seconds the magic coursed through her body, dispelling the toxins from the brandy. "That better?" He asked.
 
As he chanted to his god, it was as if she could feel the illness vanishing from her body, retreating from his touch. She nodded. "Much better. You have my thanks, Lukas."

She stood up and stretched, but even the stiffness from sleeping on the ground was gone. A useful skill to have, she thought, as she looked up. Here on the forest floor, it was still dark, but above her, she could see the morning sun shining bright on the treetops. The forest floor sloped gently to the west. She didn't know how far it was back to Silvermoon, but she knew it wouldn't get any closer if she stood there.

With a nod to Lukas, she began to walk.
 
Lukas watched Megillanc begin walking toward the west, her current path to take her north of Silverymoon. Shuffling his feet he caught up with the taller elf and walked beside her saying nothing for a while.

There was a look of anger still set in her face as they walked in silence.

After a few minutes Lukas heard the sound of padded feet, or paws, running swiftly and closing in on them. Pulling the hilt of his sword from the Baldric, Lukas stepped between Megillanc and the sound, only to see an enormous wolf crashing from the under growth and bounding toward them.

A quick whispered prayer to Shaundakul and the whirlwind erupted from the hilt, the gentle sound becoming a roaring din as the wolf leaped into the air, aiming for Megillanc. Lukas sliced the sword at the wolf, slicing open its side in a nasty looking gash that began healing almost immediately.

"Werewolf!" Lukas roared as the wolf landed and spun around facing him.

Lukas' stomach dropped a foot within his body as he heard a second wolf bound out of the brush landing behind him. Glancing at Megillanc, he said, "If you would be so kind to dispatch that one, and I will get this one."
 
She had raised her hand over her head, gathering and focusing her energy when Lukas stepped in front of her. She gave a moment's thought to shoving him out of her way, but restrained herself. He had done well with the hangover, after all, and didn't really deserve to be fed to a werewolf. She was on the verge of releasing the energies and letting the spell dissipate when the second wolf appeared.

She spun to face it, flinging the spell in the same movement and letting her voice resonate deep in her body, so it filled the clearing.

"SIT!"

The werewolf dropped to his haunches mid-lunge, so quickly that he skidded forwards a few inches on his tail. Megillanc stared him in the eye, her will buffeted by the furious bloodlust her spell had restrained. The beast stared at her, tongue lolling from his mouth, ears up and alert, nose twitching. As she stepped closer, he let out a low growl, but did not resist as she reached down to scratch the thick fur at the back of his neck.

She looked behind to see how Lukas had done, smiling softly as she realized she had trusted him. Well, he had demonstrated his power earlier. She knew she'd much rather face a couple more werewolves than another hangover as bad as that. Which was why she needed a direction. She knelt beside the wolf, petting it affectionately as she reached with her other hand for her dagger.

She looked to Lukas, letting him see the blade as she brought it to the werewolf's throat. She spoke calmly. "If you've anything we could use to tie him to a tree, I'd as soon spare him, but the curse that fuels his wrath is strong, and he would be after us again within the hour if we just leave him as is."
 
Lukas squared off with the wolf in front of him, each circling the other looking for a moment of weakness that could be exploited. The were-wolf was in his middle years, gray fur framed his mouth and eyes. The eyes were what took Lukas by surprise.

Normally a were wolf in the throes of his change had something like a crazed look in them, this one lacked that; instead the eyes were clear and focused. A natural were wolf.

The tip of Lukas' whirlwind dipped slightly as doubt crept across his mind. A dip the wolf didn't fail to see, or try to exploit. Flashing like a black and silver lightning bolt the wolf charged and leaped into the air, his jaws impossibly wide open.

Cursing his weakness, Lukas rolled forward under the wolf which landed behind him. Both turned quickly, Lukas slightly quicker than the were wolf, slicing his blade through the air, the roaring din of the tornado attached to the hilt quieted for the briefest of moments as Lukas carved deep in the the shoulder of the were wolf.

The were wolf howled in pain, backing up a step or two. Lukas reversed the course of his blade, stepping forward, then sliced into the opposite front shoulder after a quick pirouette. Another howl of pain filled the air following the second deep gash, Lukas stood and said calmly, "If you wish to die, attack, if you wish to live, flee."

The wolf glanced at Megillanc who was petting the younger wolf and then back at Lukas. Megillanc said, "If you've anything we could use to tie him to a tree, I'd as soon spare him, but the curse that fuels his wrath is strong, and he would be after us again within the hour if we just leave him as is."

Lukas nodded and said, "If you trust me with your life one last time, we can be back where we started yesterday in about that hour."
 
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