From: Balefire <lloret@gol.com>
Subject: [Porc] The route to the depths

It looked like an illustration from some temple's book on the
consequences of sin.  Surrounded by hacked and burnt corpses human and
elven, framed by the blistered and cracked carapaces of two huge dead
scorpions, the red-mailed Dark Elf stood in a pool of blood and ichor
with suffocating mage dangling from his upraised left fist.  The
flickering torchlight made of his teeth-bared snarl a demon mask, and
changed the color of his victim's face: now purple, now black.  In his
right hand Balefire held the Sword of the Dawn, point down in the gritty
cave floor, fist wrapped around the quillions at shoulder height.

"You have already forfeited your miserable life, scum.  It remains for
you to decide only what will become of your soul.  You call yourself a
mage, perverter of the Art...can you feel the hunger in my sword?"

The mercenary warmage felt his foe's struggles grow feeble and saw his
eyes rolling up into his head, and eased his grip around the mage's
throat.  A strangled gasp might have been an answer.  He shook the
upraised mage and was rewarded with a nod and a word that might have
been "mercy".  Balefire laughed, a horrible sound.

"Thou fool!  Look in my eyes, worm, and tell me if you see mercy there.
I will tell you once more only: speak of what you know, truthfully, and
I grant you a clean death.  Persist in your stupidity and you shall feed
my sword.  'Tis greedy with foes, worm, albeit it shares the lifeforce
with me.  You heard your comrades' death shrieks when it took them, did
you not?  Choose!"

The gargled response was enough like assent for Balefire to let the mage
drop limply to the tunnel floor, but the point of his sword was at the
half-strangled mage's throat in an instant.  He waited for the gasps to
subside, crimson eyes darting about the shadows beyond the carnage and
his gathered comrades.

"Enough sobbing, insect!  Where is the master of this foul citadel?  I
grow impatient.  I would find the core of this evil and burn it out.
Speak, I say!"

"I...argh...I...ah...thought it was you who had been hiding below,
killing some and terrifying others, so that none would go into the
sub-tunnels, but stayed only in the upper halls where it
was...cough...safe.  We have all heard of the Danger below...there were
stories...I swear it."

"Strangely enough, scum, I believe you are telling the truth, for once
in your wretched life.  We are but recently arrived, yet you stink of
fear long carried.  Very well.  You speak of the sub-tunnels as if you
know them.  Do you know an entrance?  Hold!  Look into my eyes...that's
right...now, what you see there is your death.  Lie to me and I will
know it.  Think first, decide which kind of end you want, then speak."

The mage paled, swallowed, and whispered, "This tunnel forks twice
hereafter.  Take the right fork each time.  It will lead downward anon.
There are beasts...scorpions and...others."  He shuddered, coughed, and
continued, "You will come to an arched stone bridge over a dark expanse
of water.  I have not seen it myself, but have heard it from others.
Beyond this I know not.  I beg of you," his voice rose in pleading
tones, "have mercy!"

The scarred and blood-spattered warmage went down on one knee next to
his sobbing foe, put one crimson-gauntleted hand behind his neck and
half-raised him from the bloody grit in which he had been lying.
Gently, his massive fist closed around the bruised throat as he leaned
forward to look the mage full in his tear-stained face.  "The time for
mercy is past, worm.  I keep my word, though."  A quick wrench and a
mighty squeeze produced a sickening crack as the mage's neck broke.
Blood welled up between Balefire's fingers where they had met in the
mage's throat.  He dropped the body and surged to his feet.  Returning
his sword to its scabbard on his back, he took his staff in hand.

When he turned to look at his comrades, the torchlight revealed no trace
or his erstwhile wrath.  His expression was impassive, unreadable.  In
mild, even tones, he said, "Well, comrades, you heard him.  Beasts, and
a bridge.  "'Tis time to move."