A Memory Returns. (Solo)

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

(This quest is simply to update my character's story, return to Althanas, and what he's been doing while I was away. Am using my level 1 profile for this! If anybody is interested in joining this project, feel free to contact me on AIM or Yahoo or on here.)

(Note: This is a Civil War historical thread)

It has been sometime since the last adventure. Since the last warm bed, the last good meal. Al thought to himself as he felt the binds around his wrists. They were enchanted, and probably booby trapped as well. Al wouldn't think to tinker with them after he saw what happened to the last inmate that attempted escape. There was no use but to sit around rotting. I can't believe I got myself in this mess. All because of that last job, damn. Al was thinking to himself. He always thought to himself, inmates had nothing but time on their hands. Thinking had become the only thing that kept the blacksmith sane. Again. He thought about the situation that got him in his current mess. All because of that damned job, if only I had been more careful I would not have gotten this on my permanent record. Al sighed. His mood was sour and had been since the whole ordeal began. He wasn't sentenced to death or anything like that, but a prison term was still a major drag. Nothing to do but wait the sentence out and hear the crying and agony of other fellow inmates.

The prison, was a jail located in Radasanth. It was deep within a guard barracks and carefully guarded. The Empire of Radasanth was now rapidly approaching a zenith of power. Al had overheard some of the guards talking about civil unrest, politic activism, and largely liberal activity from The Corone Rangers and other anarchists. That was the key item that the guardsmen spoke about. The Ranger's recent mobilizations. It was because of a shady dealer that arrived at his maestro's workshop one day that they were all in the current mess. It turned out, that the dealer he'd been hired by was actually a mole looking to shake down Ranger supporters. Though Al was not a supporter of the anarchists, it turned out that his maestro had secret dealings with them. Someone connected to Al's maestro had sold the entire workshop out. The Empire's agents came one night to raid the workshop and it was all over. Al along with his maestro, and several other workers were arrested and hauled off to a jail in Radasanth that was heavily guarded.

A small cell surrounded Al that was quite cramped. It had a single window, metal bars, that let the prisoner view the world outside and miss it. Al found himself despising the world that was lurking outside. All that he saw out his single window was the guard's barracks and their endless drills and trainings. From time to time, more wagons would arrive sporting prisoners that were presumable political activists or more anarchists. Al thought deeply about the situation and was attempting to make some sense of it. Just a short time ago, he was working the forge at a prestigious workshop and then he'd ended up little more than a rat.

Al was sitting on the floor, because the wooden bed was extremely uncomfortable. The single straw bedsheets, didn't look to safe to use either and he had not eaten since the ordeal began. Al was fasting whilst he sat in jail, he did not want to touch the filthy food that the guards were leaving for him every night. Al had rejected several meals in his fasting and was counting days in that fashion. They seemed to attempt to feed prisoners once a day, and always at the same time of night. At that precise moment, Al guessed it was mid-afternoon. He'd lost track of the days since he'd been arrested. And by that day, he was already growing his beard in. It was still scraggy, but he was definitely growing it. With no means of shaving, he simply sat there listening to the other rats in their cells.

At that time, he wondered where his maestro was...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Sitting in deep meditation, he was fasting.

A few days had passed since he was initially arrested, charged, and placed in prison without a trial. The crime? Treason. He and the lot with him was charged with conspiring against Radasanth's current Empire and were held without fair trial. When they were arrested, the agents of the Empire had done the deed. Swiftly, like hawks, they descended upon the workshop one night and arrested all who were present. Even the clients of the workshop. It was a bad situation for all involved, and maestro attempted to reason with the agents. It was to no avail. Quickly subduing maestro and the rest of the workshop's workers. The whole group was paraded across the streets of Radasanth. Cabbages, stones, and other projectiles were hurled at the traitors. Al recalled the weight of several heavy objects hitting his massive physique. They took the ordeal without saying a single word. A long chain connected the binds to each of the prisoners as they were "escorted" to the jail.

There would be no trial.

Al recalled the night of the rest with increasing hostility towards the Empire. Maestro attempted to plead their case against the agents of the Empire who had presented undeniable evidence against the workshop and it's workers. The Empire's case was simply that the workshop had supplied contraband equipment to the Corone Rangers. Al felt little hope when maestro attempted to plead against the agents. Al recalled the swift beating that they gave maestro, and his twisted up with anger. We've done naught wrong! We are just civic workers! The man said. Al could recall hearing the cries of pain as the Empire's agents beat him senseless. Even then, he was forced to endure the long hike up to prison. Military prison. The jail, as Al had soon realized, was located deep in a barracks of the Empire's elite enforcers. It was a military grade prison, not local civilian jail. Curse the Empire. Al thought to himself as he looked up at the castle of Radasanth. He turned his head away from the sad image, looking at the road ahead. Knowing where it would end.

His thoughts swirled back to the jail cell that he was currently suck in. Growling, his stomach reminded him for the umpteenth time that he was hungry. No, starving was the more appropriate term. He had not touched the terrible food they were serving in the prison if his life depended on it. He would rather starve then meet the executioner's axe. Treason, for a crime I did not even commit! Al's fury had long since passed. That fury had since turned to despair. No guards came to visit, no family, no court lawyers, nothing. Al was all alone with the rest of the political prisoners that were locked up in that hell. Most importantly, the binds hurt. They were burning against his flesh. A guard had explained it to him before slapping it around his wrists. If you are one of them Supers, you're going to feel tremendous hurt. These are binds of searing agony and they are enchanted to prevent misuse of sorcery. Remember that if you attempt escape kid. The more you concentrate on your power, the more pain will burn through you until you are unable to even think anymore. Empirical Bindings. Al had heard of them before. The Empire was using them oft in their trials against rogue Supers.

Al was not delighted to make the acquaintance of one of the bindings. Sitting there concentrating, he felt agony burning through his very skin. After some time passed, he could see several symbols glowing around the binds. He sighed. He knew what that meant, the guard had explained it. It's going to steal my sanity if I keep this up. Al thought to himself. But he could not help it, in his heart of hearts, he was an intellectual man. That was part of his gifts too. So the binds were all-inclusive, even the sin of high intelligence was viewed as a power in and of itself. Al sighed visibly as the pain coursed through him without stopping or giving an inch. It was just as the guard had mentioned. I am going to die here. Al thought as his reality was slowly beginning to settle in his heart. Even as Al attempted to calm his vast mind, the symbols glowed brighter. The pain became more intense. Threatening to make the fatigued blacksmith pass out from a combination of agony and hunger, the pain throbbed until the point where Al was on the verge of passing out. Each time he attempted to close his eyes though, the pain jolted with increasing viciousness...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

When Al felt like he was going to be burnt alive by the bindings he wore, he could have sworn he saw something he had not seen in many ages.

In his hysteria, he'd not noticed that there was another occupant in the cell with him. Strangely enough, Al did not react like most would at such a sight. It was a Phantom. The physical manifestation of antifirmanent energy. In other words, the living embodiment of souls long since supposed to have been judged. At first, Al couldn't focus through the pain, but soon, his vision cleared and he saw what appeared to be a girl in her late twenties. She was surrounded by the green ethereal glow of psychokinetic energy. It took him a few moments due to his hysterically maddened state, but he soon realized that she was staring right at him. It was then that he noticed something else, she was singing. A hymn of sorts. A psalm sung by the dead to commemorate the passage of the living into the antifirmanent. Al could hear the song just then, it was the most beautiful verses he'd ever heard and it served to calm his suffering mind.

As she sang, the symbols on his binds swelled down to the point where they barely visible. Al felt the pain subside along with the symbols. His mind relaxed a few moments, and he took several deep breaths attempting to adjust to the situation. Turning to look at the Phantom girl, Al smiled at her in thanks. "You didn't have to do that." Al said. "I would prefer that people in your situation don't get involved with me, I'm bad news now." Al sighed, she was a very pretty girl with full hair, and an angular face. Her eyes were also quite wide, but she had a serious expression on her face. There was a certain wisdom visible in her eyes. Al physically recoiled without meaning to when she attempted to touch the side of his face. "I am sorry for that, I am under a lot of pain. The hurting doesn't go away with these damned things." Al rose his hands to put emphasis on the binds around his wrists, they were not heavy of weight, but they were heavy of pain.

"I've watched over you this entire time." The Phantom said. "I won't allow the imperials to harm you."

"Why would you help me? I've done nothing to deserve such kindness." Al responded.

"You have. Son of Cormyr." The Phantom looked to some far off place for a moment. Then she returned her gaze to Al. "The Phantoms that you have helped cross over to The After have rejoiced in their peace. Now it is our turn to help you."

Al recalled the days of his youth where he adventured along side many of Althanas's warriors and magi to assist the plight of the Phantoms he'd encounter. As he soon discovered, the Phantoms were lingering on the firmanent at a increasingly alarming rate. Al had stopped his adventuring days for a long time to focus on his blacksmith career. But anytime that he found a Phantom in need, he always assisted it. In his heart, Al fancied himself as a Hero in a age were there were no more Heroes. The age of Heroes was long since over. Al represented the last of a dying breed. He knew a long tradition of Radasanth's Heroes was slowly being torn apart by the Empire. Sighing, he thought back to all of the Phantoms he had helped in his day, and now, there was a Phantom helping him. He tried to smile, but his face hurt too much. Tears flowed freely.

"Forgive me, I am under a tremendous amount of pain." Al said. "If only I could be rid of these accursed things." Al attempted to stand, but quickly was zapped by more hateful energy.

The binds were quickly draining his survival spirit.

"That's exactly what I can help you with." She said.

Al could have sworn he saw a smile on her face.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

"Can you remove them?" He asked of her. "It would be a big help."

"I cannot. But you can." She put a finger to his lips to signal that it wasn't his turn to speak yet. "Let me explain. Within you is a terrifying power." She continued to speak, tutoring the young blacksmith. "So far, you have been using your power instinctively. But you have the capacity to fine-tune your power towards specific end goals." The Phantom looked at the gate for a moment, no guards were posted outside in the hallway. Then she turned towards Al. "The Empire has rarely come across your people before. They do-not have implements in place to ward off your power. That is where I come in." She said. Then she moved closer towards Al. "I can show you the mechanism of the lock. But you must will it to be undone on your own. Do you understand?" She had placed a hand on the side of Al's head by then.

He nodded. "I think so. But I have never attempted anything this complex before." Al said, but he did not doubt it when a Phantom guided him. Phantoms were not liars like the living were. If she said he could do it, Al was not one to doubt someone trying to assist him. "How will you show me the way?" He asked.

"I will need you to open your mind to me." The Phantom said.

"Under these circumstances?" Al asked and raised his hands to show her the binds. "It will react, the wards will light up." Al was confident of that, the wards were designed to react to powers used around it. At least that was his assumption.

"It won't." She said, and suddenly, she kissed him deeply...

***

Al found himself in a room that seemed to stretch for hundreds of miles in every direction. Looking up, he saw no sky, only darkness. Looking down, there was a solid scorched earth. As he walked, bare foot, he could feel the binds around his wrist. The chains wore heavily like lead upon his heart. They were draining positive emotions from him even as they attempted to drain power. However, it was clear that the Phantom had done something to him. He walked forward until he saw a giant wall. The wall was made of the same stone structure as the floor and earth beneath him. A hot wind was blowing, scorching his skin, but he did not mind it. Anything was better than the cell. Walking to the wall of earth, he was stunned to find an intricate script of symbols etched upon the wall. He had never seen that language of runes before, but it was calling to the boy. Staring at the wall, his mind was reacting to the symbols there, and he could see the female Phantom through the light of the symbols. She was behind the wall, somewhere, waiting for him.

He could see her moving behind the wall, through the glowing symbols. She's trying to help me, but I don't understand this. Doubt filled his heart for a moment, but then, Al found some courage he had never thought he possessed. With that courage, he rose his hands up to the wall and concentrated upon the somehow familiar symbols. Then, a voice called out to him from beyond. Listen, o childe of the wise. Follower of the ancient ways. Gathered in the deepest parts of your atma (Soul) you are currently. Yours is the path to Zion. No prison or cell can hold our people, for our key is the key of the mind! Listen, o student of the wise, and learn. The secret art thou possesses, is the secret to a new life. Follow the path to Zion young one. And the way of our people thou shalt know, the way of your ancestors. The Highlanders. A single word appeared before Al when he touched the stone wall. Ayenee. Somehow, Al wondered what exactly the wall was, when he realized that the wall was not really a wall at all! By the Gods, this a Gate! Within the word Ayenee lurked something that Al had never really looked at before.

The word hovered before Al and the wall, a key of sorts. Al could see a mirror-image of himself in the key. However, the shadow Al was not wearing the same binds he has. "No lock will trap us. No cell will hold us. No prison will keep us. Come with me Al. And I will show you the way." And just as the Phantom had kissed him, Al reached out to his shadow. When the two forms touched for the first time, there was a swirling, storm of energy. It was released from the depths of Al's atma. Al held on to the word before him, and symbol by ancient symbol, Ayenee surged to Al's soul. When that occurred, Al screamed with bliss. His mind suddenly cleared as his shadow talked to him through the key he had just absorbed. As the shadow spoke, Al saw the intricate make up of the locking mechanism and the ward symbols on his bind. As the moment passed, he saw how to manipulate the bind with his power. It was just as the Phantom said earlier, the mechanism could be manipulated. The shadow showed him how, and then it was all up to Al. Al looked at his other self, and smiled.

"Thank you." He said.

"No need. I am you after all. You are me. I am just another side is all." The shadow in Al's soul turned and started to walk of into the darkness.

Seeing that, Al looked back over the plan in his head. He walked towards the wall and reached out with the binds. He suddenly slammed the binds down against the wall, and there was a tremendous spark of energy. "You will bind no more!" And Al released the sudden surge of psychokinetic energy against the binds exactly as he had been taught by his shadow. Energy passed across the binds, and there was a recoil as if the wards within them were attempting to resist the powerful energy burning through it. The symbols finally burnt out and shattered into wizard's dust. With that, all that was left was the lock. Concentrating as he had been shown, he undid the complex lock with the force of his mind. Once the task was done, several hours later, Al awoke into the firmanent. He saw that the binds were now on the floor, useless and the Phantom in his cell was gone.

"Thank you..." Al said again to the Phantom this time. Determined to get away, Al had a purpose now. Feeling the surge of psychokinetic energies in his heart, Al walked towards the gate. The lock required a key but was by no means complex like the binds were. You fucked up. Al thought to himself as he considered the Empire's security measures. Grinning, he focused a potent psychokinetic bolt on the lock. He willed it to open, and it did. Al heard the click when the lock opened and he opened the gate. I need my gear. Al thought to himself. He considered his location in the prison, but he was blind folded when he had arrived to the cell. He could not trust his memory. I need to find Maestro. Al thought to himself as he began to maneuver down the hallway. His cell was the only occupied cell in that are of the prison. He would attempt to free any of his companions, and any of the revolutionaries he would come across.

Wrongfully imprisoned by the Empire.

Little did Al know, he was taking the first steps forward towards his destiny, and the destiny of a nation.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Walking through the hallways, Al was at a loss.

He was looking for more prisoners to free so that he could fight the military aided.

"Hey you!" Al heard a voice in the dark. "Hey!" Walking towards it, he saw a prisoner in a cage. "You escapin' huh?" Asked a down trodden individual that Al had never seen before. The fellow was garbed in the attire of a Monk of the Citadel. "You and me both ended up in this bad situation Mr. Cormyr. The Empire is growing increasingly paranoid and is now arresting monks." The monk was sitting by himself in a solitary confinement cage. Al suddenly realized where he was. Solitary Confinement. He sighed. Just my damn luck. Looking at the monk, he vaguely recognized the fellow from earlier adventures. "You wanna help me out of here, Son of Cormyr?" The monk asked. "We could aide each other in the escape." Al looked at the lock that held his cage together. It was a rather simple lock despite the status of the prisoner. So far, there were no guards to stop the escape.

Considering his plight, Al decided he could use the help.

"All right, stand away from the door a ways." Al said. "I can undo the lock and allow you to get out." The monk nodded. Al watched as the fellow stepped away from the door. A few moments later, the deed was done, and Al had used his psychokinetic power to undo the mechanism behind the lock. "I need to find our gear, do you know where they keep it?" Al asked.

"Further ahead." The monk answered. "By the way, my name is Jamyr. We are going to run into some guards, I will provide support."

Al nodded. "Fair enough. I wanna free as many of us as I can for this event. Create us a proper escape squadron." Al had a plan. The Empire's units were well trained, and he would need numbers on his side. As he spoke to Jamyr, the two walked forward into the deep, cold, dark. More prisoners lurked in solitary, but Al was having difficulty discerning his location. The chambers they were in were dimly lit at best and his eyes were not adjusting very well. There were hardly any lit torches to help guide them. Al was at a loss. He turned towards the monk and shrugged. "I can't make sense of this place. We need some sort of a light." Al suggested to the monk. He knew that the monks were skilled and Jarym would be a priceless ally. Al grabbed a nearby dead torch, and handed it to Jarym. "See if you can't light that with your skill." Al said.

A moment later, Jarym had wielded elemental fire to activate the torch.

"Nicely done." Al said. "That will make things a little easier..." Al gasped. There were bodies everywhere. The solitary confinement sector was used as one giant torture chamber where prisoners were left in the dark to rot. Al almost stepped on the body of a female prisoner. He noticed it at the last moment, and sighed after he'd caught himself. "Respect for those who have passed..." Al said quietly to the monk. The monk seemed to agree by nodding. Since their path was now lit, Al could see better. His eyes finally adjusting to the lighting, and he could see something that shocked him. Phantoms! The chamber was teaming with Phantoms! As he looked about, he could see the ethereal bodies floating about with a depressed air about them. He hadn't noticed them before because of the dark, but now with a light present, he could see! Al looked at Jarym for a long moment, and spoke in a whisper. "Jarym, we are not alone." Al said hoping that the monk could see the Phantoms too.

Al walked over towards a particularly burly Phantom. This man was clad in heavy armour, and had a shield strapped to his back. Longsword at his waist. As with most Phantoms, Al couoldn't see the man's feet really since they dematerialized into the air. Al saw that the man was garbed in the armour of the Empire. Al's eyes narrowed sternly. Do I have to help you? He thought to himself. However, at this point in time, he needed all the help he could get. Al sighed as he realized that and addressed the guard. "You there." Al said. "How fair you?" He asked. For a moment, it seemed as if the Phantom was confused, and had not heard Al speaking. When Al seemed ready to repeat himself, the Phantom stopped the blacksmith by motioning for him to be quiet. Out of respect for the dead, Al paused and waited for the Phantom to speak.

"Soldier." The Phantom began. "I need to report to my superiors what is happening here!" The Phantom continued. "There was a break-out. Many good soldiers lost their lives here. I wrote this document. See to it that Captain Ralaf gets this letter." The Phantom handed Al a document. "It is important. This is no longer a skirmish between the Rangers, and the Empire."

Al wondered what the Phantom was talking about. "I need your help." Al suddenly said. "I am deep in enemy territory and I need troops to fight out of enemy stronghold." Al found himself saying.

There was a pause.

"Rally you say?" The phantom asked. "Under whose authority?" The Phantom asked.

Then, the Jarym intervened. "That would be mine." Jarym suddenly said.

Al was shocked to see a frightened Phantom. Another moment passed, and the Phantom stared at the monk. "You shouldn't be in this place Brother Monk. But I will heed your calling as a favour to your people." Then, the Phantom looked at the others around him. "Fellows! Rally up your old pile of bones! We got us a Seer here."

Before Al knew it, he had a small squad of Phantoms at his command. He looked over at Jarym. "Jarym. This is our back up. Let's make it count."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

"At this point I will take whatever help we can get." Jarym said in agreement. "We should focus on getting our gear first."

"What are your orders?" The Captain asked.

"My good Captain." Al began. "We have to retrieve our gear, do you have any idea where your comrades may have it hidden?"

After a moment of thought, the Captain decided he might have an idea. "Many obstacles will be in front of the objective." The Captain said. "You must be ready to be tested in the fullest capacity." The Captain walked down a long hallway motioning for them to follow. The Phantoms who were not in stupor followed as well, their numbers had jumped to about ten all together.

Al knew that any help would be welcome help considering the situation at hand. They walked casually towards the Northern most point of the solitary confinement unit. Still no sign of Maestro. Could he be dead already? Al hoped to rescue his master. When they walked to the end of the large chamber, Al sighed. Another complex lock. He looked at the Phantoms around him and Jarym for a moment. Pondering his new found ability to pick such locks, Al considered the possibility of disarming it himself. However, he was tired from the ordeal thus far. His ability was still recharging, and Al needed to catch his breath. He looked at the monk in their company. "Do you suppose you can use one of your tricks to bust that lock open?" Al asked. Al watched as the monk started to call upon the secrets he commanded.

There was a sudden bursting sound when the monk laid his hand upon the lock's mechanism. Al would never have known that the security gate was warded. The monk was capable of seeing such matters without aide. Nodding to his new friend, Al had to cover his eyes from the harsh light that penetrated the darkness of solitary. Stepping out into a new hallway, Al could tell that there were two visible corners in the newer chamber. The area outside of solitary was well lit. Al took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. Still no sign of guards. What is going on here? Al thought to himself. He looked at Jarym for a moment, and the two began to plan which way to head. East or West. When the Captain spoke up, Al grinned. He was glad for the Phantom's help, it would do wonders to help them through the maze-like structure.

Al did not want to end up back at the solitary unit.

The Captain spoke.

"This area is part of the main Barracks. We're deep inside enemy territory." The Captain said, reminding them of the situation at hand. "We should expect to encounter resistance at any time."

"That's why need our gear. That should be first priority. Escape is our ultimate goal, but getting our gear back is the immediate problem." Al tapped his chin for a moment as he spoke to the Captain. "Do you think you could guide us to where they store such items?" Al asked.

"I can." The Captain said.

"We are not alone." Jarym spoke suddenly and moved into a monk's martial combat stance.

The Captain stared off in the distance. "Several guards approach." He said. Then he looked to the Phantoms in his command. "Swords at the ready men!" Each of the gathered Phantoms drew a spectral sword that radiated a bright green ethereal energy.

Al felt somewhat sorry for the soldiers that were coming. He knew what was about to happen to them. "Captain. Please incapacitate, and do not attempt to kill unless it cannot be avoided."

"Understood, Sir." The Captain responded. "You heard the man. Let's get a move on then." And the Phantoms were on the go. The Captain seemed to be a bright one, and clearly understood Al's need to want the men they were about to face alive and intact.

Collateral.

***

Some moments later, the battle was over. It wasn't a battle per se, since the monk was providing support to Al and the Phantoms. Having quickly recovered his strength, Al realized that Jarym was their best asset. Al was looking down at the fallen before him. As Al had instructed, the soldiers were merely incapacitated and not killed. Al would need to keep them alive for the next phase of his plan. He knew escape would be incredibly difficult without extra help, and they were still unarmed. Al smiled as the Captain held his ethereal sword against the neck of the guard. They were bloodied up something fierce, but none of the damage was permanent. Except for the psychological damage upon seeing Al's Phantom troop. Al wore a grin on his face as he quickly worked to interrogate the fellow before him. Al was feeling particularly mischievous in the current situation so he stared the man deep in the eyes.

"Your name and station." Al said, it was not a question.

"John of House Lokthym. 1st Class. Empirical Forces." John stopped after that.

Al continued. "John of Lokthym." Al repeated. "Do you value life?" Al asked. It was a sincere question. When the man furiously nodded, Al continued. "Good. Then you and your fellows here will assist in our escape if you do in fact value your life?" Al was certain that the young fellow heard the your life part loud and clear. It was clear that Al was capable of taking the man's life without hesitation, but he only hesitated cause the guards were needed alive. They knew the layout of the fortress and he didn't. Al turned to look at the Captain. "Captain. Order a few of the Phantoms to gather up the extra men here and place them in Confinement. Lock their cells good." Serious, Al turned back towards John. "I have your men under our control. If you attempt to disobey, or flee at any point, I will give word to my friends here to finish your companions off."

"NO!" John yelled. "Tch. I will do as you say to protect my friends lives."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

"Where have they taken our equipment?" Al suddenly asked motioning to Jarym.

"Not far from here." John said. "But it is a heavily guarded area. The soldiers there are quite skilled and will not fall so easily to such a dirty trick." John said with a devious expression on his face. He was looking at Al's Phantoms with that same expression. "You shouldah remained in your cell until you rotted!" The man said.

Al suddenly smacked the man hard.

"Disrespect the fallen again, and I will cut you. Do you understand?" Al only continued when John nodded. "Stand up." They all stood up from sitting positions or crouching positions. Al watched as John stood up last. "You will guide us to where this area is. Do a good job and I will release your companions. After that there is no guarantee that they will remain alive." Al said. "Let's go then."

"Al we're walking into a high-security area." The monk said. "It is likely there will be trouble."

"I am aware." Al said. "I am also aware somewhere my comrades are being held. Maestro." Al sighed. "Once we get our gear, rescuing Maestro is top priority."

At that, John suddenly had a strange look of fear on his face. He looked at Al very carefully. "You're gonna try to rescue the blacksmith?" John asked. Then, he growled at that. "He's in a militarized zone, don't bother. He's being held for treason against the Empire." John continued. "Our best warriors and magi are guarding him around the clock. You stand no chance with a couple of spooks and a monk." John growled again. "You should be thankful that you are even able to pull this stunt off in the first place."

"Open that door." Al suddenly said. "I will not ask again." Al was angry, he was rapidly loosing his cool when John mentioned Maestro's current situation. That was not good news at all and Al knew that he needed to plan the next few steps of the rescue quite carefully. Reluctantly, John removed a set of keys from his packs and undid the latch of the door. When the door was opened, Al breathed a sigh of relief. A bright light came in from the next hallway, and it took a moment or two for Al to adjust. Al held the torch in his hand, and forced John to take point. The Phantoms flanked the small squad on either side. Al watched as the captain of the Phantoms kept his spectral sword at John's neck. They walked surrounding John and holding their prisoner captive. Al's muscles were all tightened into knots as they walked, he felt an incredible sense of tension. If what he is saying is true, Maestro could already be dead.

I gotta get him out of this place! As they walked towards where the equipment was, Al started to hear some voices further down the hallway. It was faint at first, but as the group got closer, it became somewhat louder. They were quickly approaching the high-security zone and the time for rest was over. Al stopped for a moment to look at his companions. He wanted to be certain they were all ready to enact the break-out.

"You guys are fucked now." John said. "Help!" He suddenly yelled, alerting the guards to their presence. Al swiftly elbowed John in the gut for that impudence, and winded him.

"Dispatch him." Al said.

"You swore!" John suddenly yelled, very much afraid as the Phantom descended upon him.

"I lied." Al said bitterly, and there was no yell when the Phantom crushed John's heart. Only grunts from the guard. Then, there came the sound of many armoured boots clanking against the floor.

"Over there!" Al heard one of them calling. "Snipers at the ready!" The same voice called out.

Al looked at his companions. "It's now or never."

"Right." Jarym responded. The Phantoms remained silent but were at the ready for close combat.

Several arrows were fired into the hallway, but Al had expected that. In time, Jarym had put up a shield in an attempt to ward off the barrage of arrows that would most certainly come. Al wish he had a weapon. The only thing in his hand was the torch! Deciding he needed to arm himself, he took John's weapon, an iron broadsword, and removed it from the scabbard. The enemy soldiers were coming down on their position, but Al was not afraid. He looked at the Phantom Captain as the warrior had an intense expression on his face. Al smiled. "Now!" He yelled. And the Phantoms were on the move. Al held the sword so that the tip of the blade pointed downward at an angle towards the ground. If the soldiers got too close, he could swiftly slice upward and decapitate them. He looked at Jarym and nodded.

"It's been an honour." Al said.

"We're not dead yet!" Jarym responded.

***

Meanwhile--

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Outside of the fortress in the barracks, a small group of men had penetrated the grounds of the prison.

Apparently, a coincidence had lead these men to the prison at the exact same time that Alberdyne Cormyr was attempting his own break-out.

Whilst Alberdyne Cormyr fought to escape, these mean had a decidedly different motivation.

The small group of freedom fighters were well armed with intelligence from the barracks. When they engaged Corone's military, the two forces clashed. Prepared to deal with any fall-out from the fighting, the freedom fighters used advanced training. Blades and other weapons reflected light strangely. The metals that comprised the swords that the freedom fighters used were exotic to say the least. Each of the metal based weapons were a mysterious glowing amethyst colour. The freedom fighters wore exotic clothing that were not native to Althanians, but were the military uniform of a completely other Nation. As they fought against the Empire's soldiers, it was clear that these freedom fighters meant business. Speaking in a deeply accented English, several of the Empire's units were dispatched by the freedom fighters.

The leader of the freedom fighters looked down at their captives.

"I want them alive. No terminations." The mysterious leader said. He looked down at the man he had captured himself. "Where is the one called Maestro?"

The freedom fighters spread out in small squads in order to engage the Empire as the leader spoke with the captured guard.

"There." The fallen guard said, pointing to a certain position of the barracks. "Deep within our stronghold. Even you won't be able to make it." The guard said confidently. "He is to be executed on the morrow. First light."

"We are here to prevent that." The man suddenly responded. "I am afraid his life is far too important for your petty political power grab." The man who was speaking looked off to the distance for a moment as if he was staring at something very far away. "We are here to rescue him at all costs. Even our own lives."

"Why let me live then?" The guard suddenly asked.

"Your purpose and usefulness has passed." The tall man said. He then took his weapon out. "Your journey has come to an end."

***

"Boss has ordered no terminations. What about this guy?" A freedom fighter asked. The man in their custody did not wear the armour of the soldier, nor did he carry weapons. Instead, he was dressed in simplistic worker attire.

"I know who you guys are." The old man said.

He was an older gentleman. Long, platinum coloured hair crowned his skull. It was surprisingly full and vibrant. Furthermore he had dark brown skin that was clearly not the natives of Mother Corone. He appeared to possess the markings of someone who was from Fallien. The Freedom Fighters had expected a lot of hang ups and snags to occur during the rescue mission, but they had not expected a wild-card. The old man had harsh blue eyes, but there was a certain kindness and understanding in them. That kindness was missing in the eyes of the Empire's soldiers. Instead what lurked there was an almost arcane driven madness. The leader of that squad of Freedom Fighters was a man named Job. However, the most unique feature of the Freedom Fighters was their physical composition. They were green skinned warriors with tails, and horns jutting out of their foreheads. Their eyes had a strange amber glow to them and there were no pupils. Job was looking at the older man for a long moment as he spoke. He was waiting for a reply from his companions.

"Let him go. Boss said no terminations." Job nodded at that, it was his superior officer speaking.

"Very well. This is your lucky day olde man." Job turned and began to walk away from the olde man. However, the man put his hand on Job's shoulder.

"Wait." He said. "You'll need this." The olde man said. "It will undo the binds that he is wearing." The olde man handed Job a device of some sort, a relic.

"I thank you olde one." Job said. "Do you know where the one called Maestro is?" Job asked.

"Yes I do."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Job remembered the ruins of the barracks from his childhood. He'd ventured into them many a time, and it was what was left of Radasanth in those days. Job knew what all of his companions knew. The events that transpired from this period of Althanas's history would ultimately affect the place Job came from. He was of the same species as the rest of his companions, and did not have any substantial differences from there in terms of physique. However, he did have one eye on his face that was sealed behind a vicious scar. Job was a man that took his job very seriously. He was dressed in simple warrior's attire from his tribe. His great-sword visible and sheathed across his back. Job kept a hand on the grip at all times as he moved quickly through the hallways of the fortress. The rescue of Maestro was the sole reason for their arrival. They had no intention of rescuing any other prisoner.

Job kept an eye on his companions. They moved as swiftly as he, and were prepared to fall for the mission at hand. That is what made them more dangerous than the Empire's goons. They were ready to die for a cause. Job thought about a lot of things as he moved. Mostly, they dealt with things he knew about Maestro. He must be rescued, or else that event will come to pass. Job and his companions were working against fate itself. The fate of an entire world. They were in a large room as the olde man guided them to a hall. Soldiers were waiting at every turn, and these were dispatched as quickly and effectively as training would allow. Job knew from the records that they could not underestimate the more experienced guards. The relic he used to analyze the information from the enemy soldiers showed average power levels. But a few were well trained and these would require more thought to take out.

Job looked at the olde man.

"I thank you for your assistance. You don't have to tell me where to go from here on in." Job said. "May I touch your forehead?" He asked.

The olde man nodded. "I know you are a good man." He continued. "I know where you come from. You don't have to explain. Son of Cormyr."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Job Cormyr looked at the olde man after the information was extracted.

The entire tribe of travelers referred to themselves by the ancestral name of Cormyr. None of them had any idea they were close in relative position to the progenitor of the entire race of Psionics.

If they knew, rescuing him would have also been a top priority. But little did they know that they were about to have a huge run-in with fate itself.

Job Cormyr looked at the olde man and smiled kindly. "You got to be a Hero." Job said. "Is the one called Nenkulor on the premises?" Job asked.

When Nenkulor's name was mentioned, the olde man went pale. "Not to my knowledge. Those matters are best taken up with the higher ranking officers. I should go now, I have already placed myself and my family in danger."

"May your Ancestors smile upon you, olde one." Job said as the olde man left. Then he motioned to his companions to follow him into the hallway. The information he had extracted from the olde man showed Maestro's exact location through careful observation. Apparently, the event in question had left a sour taste in the mouths of many of the locales. Job Cormyr drew his mighty weapon. The others did the same as they followed, he was flanked by two other members of the Cormyr Tribe. As they walked down the hallway, Job's relic detected several soldiers ahead. Readying himself for combat, he suddenly bounded down the hallway. Releasing a psychokinetic ability on himself, a glowing surge of energy manifested around the body of the warrior. As the energy surged, Job Cormyr picked up a tremendous amount of speed.

***

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

The Phantoms fought bravely.

Each of the warriors put their spectral arsenal to good use against the enemy. However, there was a large number of the Empire's soldiers in front of them. Al had already taken an arrow to the chest and was wounded. Thankfully, the injury had not been a serious one. No major organs were hit in the attack. The monk had erected a wizard's wall of some sort to protect from the volley of arrows and bolts. The missile projectiles bounced uselessly off the wall. Al heard the clangs of the missiles as they bounced on the floor. They were pinned, and outnumbered. Al knew the Phantoms wouldn't be able to get them all, and then something dreadful happened. The enemy had a powerful Mage in their ranks that had some sort of an artifact in his command. The artifact, enchanted the weapon of the enemy so that it could affect the Phantoms.

Al cursed when each of the Phantoms began to fall by one one. They did their damage, but it was not enough. The enemy's platoon was twenty strong at least form what Al could see behind the pillar he stood at. His companion was next to him hurling fireballs and other magical attacks at the platoon.

"What do we do?!" For the first time since the "escape" attempt was initiated, Al was afraid. He knew it was fool-hardy to engage the enemy in close-combat.

"I'm out of ideas." Jarym said. "I don't know what we can do here, the enemy can attack your friends now."

Al's mind was working quickly to come up with a plan. Something. Anything. He needed an advantage he could use, and suddenly, he thought of it. It's a long shot, but I will have to try anything in my power now.

"Jarym! Cover me please, I got one possible idea." Al was already preparing his Negative Feedback Loop. He couldn't get an exact coordinate of where the Mage was in the enemy platoon, but he knew that he could at least launch a big enough Loop to target a single unit. He hoped to take the Mage, or their leader out of commission. As he focused, he concentrated on the most intensely deep negative emotion he had at his disposal. The image that caused the most negativity to appear in his heart was the image of his long time enemy, MetalDrago Scorpio. Al visualized everything he could about the Dragonian follower of N'Jal. As he did that, his body immediately swelled with the hatred he felt for that man. Glowing around his body was a dark green nimbus that reflected the power he had at his command. Though young yet, Al had acquired an impressive amount of general skill and knowledge of his growing ability. When the time had come...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

***

Jak Stormcaller was a loyal member of Radasanth's military forces his entire life.

There was a time when Radasanth was a republic of Heroes, and Jak missed those days. However, the last thing on Jak's mind that day was an attempted prison break-out by one of their latest acquisitions. Normally at work on the many documents that had to get stamped through his division, Jak did not think the fates had another plan for him that day. Jak was a typical Radasanthi Hume. He had short, wild hair that was black. He wore a standard Imperial Captain's uniform. It was highly decorated. His face was completely clean-shaven. His facial features had the standard marks of a Radasanth born man. He appeared to be in his early forties. An older gentleman, Jak was involved in military service since his early youth. So when the exasperated guard ran up to him and performed a hasty salute, Jak looked quickly up at him. The guard was shaking, and had an unusually pale skintone, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"Settle down man." Jak ordered. "Catch your breath, what seems to be the trouble, soldier?" Jak still was a high-ranking officer and he had to keep his men in line.

"There's a riot in the prisoners." The soldier began.

"I am aware of the situation..." Jak began.

"No you don't understand. This isn't that riot." The soldier was fighting to catch his breath, it was clear he'd been running. "That riot is under control now. This is an isolated event. It seems the blacksmiths have mounted an escape attempt."

"The blacksmiths?" Jak asked. "You don't mean, the one's who were working with Maestro?" Jak was starting to get furious at that point, he stood up, slamming his fist against the table. "Shit, I knew this whole thing was a bad idea."

"What do we do?" The Soldier asked.

"You, go rally up the men near Maestro, don't let any unauthorized personnel into that area, am I understood?" Jak wrote up a quick letter of orders on a blank parchment, and handed it to the soldier. "Take this to Daniel. He will know what it means." The soldier nodded, and saluted quickly. "All right." Jak turned towards some men who had already gathered at the situation. "It seems the barracks have been compromised gentlemen."

"That Cormyr kid?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Likely. We had him in solitary confinement until word came down with what to do with him."

"What about the rest of the blacksmiths we'd acquired that day?" The same soldier asked.

"Maestro is the likely target." Jak said. "Likely, he doesn't know the whereabouts of the rest of his companions." Jak tapped his chin. "This could be a full-stage break-out. If I recall correctly that Monk is in the solitary also." Jak readied his weapon. "Such actions against us will not be tolerated." Jak said to his men. "We must put down these brigands before they can rile up anymore of the inmates. Gentlemen, follow me." Jak walked a few paces forward and then he turned to one of the soldiers. "Gather up a squad of our finest blades. Be discreet. Go." Jak said and the man immediately obeyed the commands. "We are to head to the solitary confinement unit and put down this insurrection."

***

Jak was looking down the hallway. It was just as he suspected all along, the Monk had been somehow freed. I can no longer allow this minimum security detail in this area of the prison. I have to request more security funding from the Lord of this Barracks. They were pinned. As Jak had thought, it was the blacksmith's apprentice, and the monk who had mounted the escape attempt. He knew that the target was likely the blacksmith named Maestro. Is he that important to them? Jak thought to himself as he stood at the rear of the large phalanx. They were being assaulted by a shadowy assailant that Jak had only encountered a few times in his military career. The rest of his men likely had never encountered the ghosts, except for his resident Magus. Jak looked at his Mage for a moment as the man prepared the soldier's weapons for combat. He knew an enchantment that would strengthen their weapons versus the ghosts of the fallen. There was no way of knowing exactly how Cormyr was able to command the ghosts in the first place. The important thing was that Cormyr was able to control them. Jak looked at the glowing light surrounding his weapon after the Mage had imbued it.

"There. Those things shouldn't be much of a problem now." The Mage said. He looked towards Cormyr. "Pity though Captain. We should have him on our side. If memory serves, he had a temporary job in The Watch at Underwood."

"He's Maestro's Apprentice now, and that makes him all the more dangerous. We can't have people breaking out." Jak was growling by that point. He'd lost several soldiers by that point. "Pull yourselves together men!" Jak said, and took his silver sword. "Use me as a medium." Jak told his Mage. And the man nodded. Jak pointed his blade towards the general direction of Cormyr and his cohorts. "We can't risk capturing them. Terminate them if need be." Jak ordered.

"Yes, Captain Stormcaller!"

And Jak held his weapon tightly as the Mage released a powerful lightning bolt through his sword...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Negative psionic energy swelled through the air and burnt quickly across the hallway.

It was Al's finest achievement as a psionic. The mental feedback loop burnt towards it's intended target, however, would never hit the man. Instead, an officer was struck...

***

"Argh!" A nearby man was yelling, he'd not been struck by any of the damn ghosts, or by any physical spell the monk was throwing at them. Jak Stormcaller looked at the man as he began to suffer from some sort of unknown assailant.

"It's that kid!" Jak cursed out loud. Things were not going well. "All right, we don't know what kinda trickery this is..."

"It's coming! The pain won't stop!" The assaulted man started saying over and over.

"Shit this is not good." Jak was saying and he looked to his Mage. "Any thoughts?"

"We don't know what we're dealing with here." The Mage stroked his chin for a moment as he looked in the general direction of the enemy. "I have never encountered a spell of this nature. It does not seem to be Necromancy or Shadowmancy." The Mage was kneeling down nearby the man who was struck.

"By the Thayne stop his yelling." Jak found himself saying. Jak watched as the Mage put a wooden bit in the mouth of the man to shut him up, it didn't work. The man, suffering inexplicably, tore through the bit. Jak frowned. "He's a liability we can't keep him here."

"So does that mean...?" The Mage asked.

"Finish him off." Jak ordered. "I will inform his family what happened personally."

The Mage nodded. "Very well, sire." Then, he began to cast a spell on the fallen soldier.

Jak could only watch.

When the screaming stopped, Jak whispered a silent prayer to the All-Thayne. Another good man fell. Then, Jak turned his attention to the line of skirmishing to see how his men were faring against the Phantoms. Still, the sides were equally matched as the Phantoms skillfully kept his soldiers at bay. Some of the Phantoms dissipated into thin air when they were defeat, but most were quickly adapting to the soldiers' attacks. There were many Phantoms that were still active and attacking his men with various spells. The nature of their power was chilling. The men that fell, soon became Phantoms themselves, and an unseen hand compelled them to join the ranks of the enemy. "Shit!" Jak yelled when he realized what was happening. "They are using us as cannon-fodder!" Once Jak realized the cruel strategy, he had no choice but to pull back to a safer location and regroup. "Disengage the enemy." Jak said solemnly.

"My lord?" A nearby soldier asked.

"You heard me, lad. Fall back!" Jak stared at the general direction of the hallway where he assumed Al and the Monk was. "We're initiating plan b." There really wasn't a plan b, but Jak had to keep his soldiers in line and allow them to assume there was. Jak was preparing to take more drastic measures.

As the order quickly spread through his ranks, they disengaged the enemy specters and began to retreat further down the hallway.

***

"Well isn't that precious." Jarym was saying. "They are retreating." He'd just finished launching another one of his destruction spells into the group of soldiers, it had hit against them. "Seems our friends are able to raise the fallen into their ranks somehow." Jarym was saying. He then turned to Al who was dreadfully quiet. "Sir Cormyr?" Jarym asked.

He saw that Al was in tremendous amounts of pain. In the confusion, another bolt had struck Al. Since he'd just finished casting his psionic's spell, the arrow had found it's mark true. It had struck Al right in the chest, but just barely missed any vitals. Al's hand clutched at the shaft of the bolt as he looked up at Jarym in agony. It was Hell. "We're not gonna make it." Al found himself saying. That was his fear talking, and something in his gut was preparing for the worse. "Why have the attacks stopped?" Al suddenly asked. He turned his fallen body to look around the pillar he was leaning against. Blood from both of his injuries was freely flowing, and it was just his luck that Jarym had not learned the healing arts yet. He was merely a combat oriented Monk. One of the defenders of The Citadel. Al adjusted his gaze as he looked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. The soldiers who could, were falling back further down the hallway.

"Let them go!" Al found himself yelling. The nearest of his Phantoms passed the order along to his companions, and they allowed the enemy to retreat. The Phantoms returned to Al and Jarym. "Kill the ones we have captured." Al said. "There is no longer any need to hang on to them. I think we've gone as far as we can go."

"My lord?" The Captain of the Phantoms asked. "You're hurt..." The Captain knelt down towards Al.

"Aye...it's serious." Al said. "I don't know how much longer I can continue to fight." Al had a soft expression on his face, it was also filled with a certain peaceful emotion. The masks of expression were shifting on his face, but he was clearly in a lot of pain. Despite that, he remained calm and did not panic. "I'm sorry I have failed you all." Al said, submitting to his fate. The rescue attempt of Maestro had been an utter failure. They had no idea where Maestro even was, but he guessed that the leader of their enemy knew. He needed to somehow get his hands on that man, alive. Beat the information out of him if he could. Al felt his blood rapidly leaving his body. He looked at Jarym. "I cannot complete the rescue mission. I think I'm done for." Al was saying. "You...must....rescue Maestro." Al said. "Consider it a last request from a dying friend." Al had fibbed, the arrow had in fact pierced a vital organ. Blood started to flow from the side of his lips.

***

Jak was furious.

Rarely did he loose his cool in front of his men, but he couldn't help it.

"What happened back there!?" He asked his Mage. "The kid used some kind of spell we never encountered, and is able to command Phantoms? What the hell is he?" Jak asked, he was yelling by that point.

"My lord. Take a look at this." They had the body of the soldier who fell from the mysterious spell that the blacksmith released.

When they took a look at the body, there were several black tendrils swirling across the flesh of the fallen one.

A mark was now visible upon the forehead of the fallen soldier.

It was a stylized c in some syntax or another, of a language that somehow seemed very familiar to the Mage.

"It's a Glyph of some sort, watch out!"

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Instinctively, Jak kept his sword at the ready.

The symbol on the dead began to glow with tremendous power.

"This can't be good." The Mage said. "What do we do, I have a bad feeling about this!" The Mage stepped away from the body, and everybody followed his lead.

Jak was still too angry to focus.

"Burn it." Jak suddenly ordered. "Don't think, just set fire to them before..."

It was already too late...

***

Having opened a window to something much darker, the body now belonged to someone that they would never have guessed would involved themselves. An interloper, belonging to the house of the Thayne. Powerful energy soon burst out of the body, and a new form manifested. It was a form that inspired terror when they laid their eyes upon it. Even Jak immediately knew what he was looking at. He clenched his teeth tightly and cursed, he had never expected the kid to know diablerie. When his soldiers began to act around the summoned creature, Jak suddenly ordered the least likely even to come to pass. "Retreat!" Jak ordered. He knew what he was looking at. He had to warn the others before it started to tear them apart. "Spider Magi!" Jak yelled with fear in his voice. For the first time in a long time, Jak felt fear at the presence of an enemy. The very thought that he could loose many men, and, his own life, suddenly passed in his mind. Jak would have to buy his people time, he was a leader after all.

The Spider Magi soon acted. Grabbing the nearest of the men, the assassin-creature reached out with long limbs. It was sinewy, and it's carapace was obsidian coloured.

The creature had the half-body of a humanoid entity with a spider's thorax. The Spider Magi turned it's attention right to Jak's Mage. Jak realized what was about to happen, cause his companion was frozen in fear. A general sense of panic flowed from the very soul of the beast. "No!" Jak yelled, as he rushed towards his Mage in an act of blind loyalty and heroism. He knew that the other man was not equipped with the proper gear to withstand many strikes from a Spider Magi. The creature looked at Jak with a grin, it's maw revealing many sharpened teeth that were jagged. It rapidly lashed out with one of it's arms, it's many legs also used as weapons against his men. Jak cursed as he the Spider Magi came in close for the kill. It looked deeply into Jak's eyes as if studying the soldier's soul. "I won't let you have him!" Jak cursed as the creature grabbed him. The Spider Magi were known for the savagery and skill. Jak growled when he was grabbed by a powerful hand.

It wrapped it's hand around Jak's neck.

"The Grand Primus sends his regards. Jak Stormcaller." The Spider Magi confidently held Jak by the neck. Even as he lashed out with shadowy powers, blades of shadowmancy energy struck at the soldiers. "You are not the hero." A terrifying noise later, and Jak's limp body fell as the Spider Magi killed him, snapping his neck.

"No!" The Mage yelled, he was already conjuring his fire spells.

***