"Something was playing games with our minds," Midnight said. "It tried to control us, set us against one another. I tried a simple dispel magic incantation and — "
"You caused that explosion?" Kelemvor said, sitting up abruptly.
"You shouldn't move," Adon said, and attempted to force the man to lay back. His efforts were futile.
"Damn it, Adon. We lost a day at the colonnade because I was flat on my back. Just leave me alone; I'll be fine!"
"Let him go, Adon," Midnight said, smiling at the fighter. "Yes, Kel, I caused the explosion — or my magic did, anyway. I gathered from what was happening to us that someone was casting a powerful illusion on all of us. I tried to dispel it, but the spell caused some kind of backlash. It seems to have stopped whoever was throwing the spell."
"The voice of Bane," Cyric said, laughing. "Probably just some madman with delusions of godhood."
"Then I suggest we find him," Kelemvor said as he looked around. "He's got to be the one who has Caitlan's mistress captive."
"I thought you'd given up on finding her," Cyric said.
Kelemvor smiled and looked at Midnight. "I had. But I think the reward I'll get for concluding the quest will be worth toughing it out." The fighter looked at the bloody rags over his shoulder and wondered if he would be able to wield his sword with only one arm. He was able to make a loose fist with his right hand, although the process caused sparks of pain to erupt before his eyes.
Cyric simply shook his head as he went to the courtyard's entrance and looked out into the hallway. There was no sign of movement. The corridors looked much the same as they had when Cyric first examined the castle.
"We should find Caitlan's mistress and escape while we can," Cyric said as he went back into the courtyard. Kelemvor nodded in agreement, and soon the adventurers were in the hallway.
"Now what?" Kelemvor said. "Search the castle again, floor by floor?"
Midnight turned and froze, her mouth open wide.
"I don't think we'll have to," Cyric said. "Look!"
Kelemvor looked over his shoulder and saw a horrible, blood-red mass barreling down the corridor at them — the hakeashar. From the mist that composed the creature's form, Kelemvor saw hundreds of ten-fingered hands reaching out, clawing at the air. Disembodied yellow eyes broke from the mist, anxious to study the prey before it.
Kelemvor's shoulders slumped. "I've had about enough of this for one day," he said as he drew his sword with his one good hand. His movements weren't graceful, but he hoped the stance would be impressive enough to frighten the huge creature.
The creature let out a roar that sent a burrowing pain through the heroes' skulls. The creature had grown large, gaping mouths that seemed to grow larger as it approached. Cyric grabbed Midnight's arm and they ran down the hall, away from the hakeashar.
"Perhaps you could stand a little more?" Adon said, imploringly, as he backed away, then ran.
The creature let out another roar.
"Perhaps," Kelemvor said as he broke his stance and ran, the swirling mist biting at his heels as he attempted to catch up to the others.
The heroes kept well ahead of the mist creature for a few moments, but they soon tired. By the time they'd reached the turret located two hundred yards from the courtyard, the hakeashar was in close pursuit. In the turret, the stairs leading to the upper levels of the castle were filled with debris, so the heroes followed the stairs down, Adon in the lead. In the darkness of the subterranean corridors, the hakeashar appeared as a burst of light as it exited the turret.
Midnight realized that the corridor ahead of them was blocked by rubble at the same moment the hakeashar caught up with the adventurers. Turning to face the creature, she shouted for her fellows to move out of the way. She was already casting a spell as the creature filled the width of the corridor and stopped, its eyes blinking wildly as Kelemvor held up his sword and Cyric put on his cloak of displacement.
Suddenly a gust of wind surged through the corridor, originating at Midnight's fingertips. The wind cut through the creature, holding it at bay for a moment. Abruptly the wind died away.
The hakeashar slowly moved forward, the incredible power it had sensed in Midnight's pendant drawing it's attention.
Cyric walked forward, his cloak of displacement creating a dozen phantom images of him. The many eyes of the hakeashar fixated on the images created by the cloak as they wildly crossed one another to alter their vantages of the illusion.
"Besides managing to confuse this thing, what good have we done?" Kelemvor whispered to Midnight. The magic-user stepped away from the fighter just as the hands of the creature shot forward and grabbed the cloak from Cyric. The images disappeared as the cloak was devoured by the hakeashar.
A dozen new eyes and mouths opened as the creature grew larger.
"What are you waiting for?" Kelemvor said. "Cast your spell!"
The hakeashar giggled, memories of feeding from the magic of the goddess flooding into its mind.
Midnight stopped, and turned to face the fighter. "Kel."
The hakeashar was drifting closer.
"Hack it to pieces," Midnight said.
Kelemvor tightened his grip on the sword with his one good arm.
The hakeashar stopped.
Over a hundred images of the hairy human moving forward, sword in hand, registered in the hakeashar's brain. The beast was filled with an odd sense of curiosity. It moved five of its jaws over the human, clamped down, and was surprised that it did not receive any sustenance from the effort. The human began to laugh and a lancing pain cut through the creature as six of its eyes were shut forever in one mighty sweep of the human's sword.
The roars of the hakeashar echoed through Castle Kilgrave as the Black Lord knelt in the still water of his ruined scrying pool. Bane had summoned the creature and turned it loose in the castle to search for Mystra.
A small stone struck the puddle of water before Bane's face, causing the fallen god to look up.
A young girl he had never seen before stood in the doorway. She was smiling from ear to ear. A handful of stones that she had dislodged from the crumbling wall beside her rested comfortably in her hand.
"It's not pleasant, having your power turned against you, is it?" she said simply, and the voice was horribly familiar.
"Mystra!" Bane shouted, and lunged at the goddess-made-flesh. Mystra threw the handful of stones at the Black Lord, her voice rising as she began to cast a spell. The stones changed in midflight, becoming blue-white missiles that pierced the body of the Black Lord, sending him sprawling back to the floor of the dungeon.
Another roar sounded from the hallway, this one greater than the last. Mystra shuddered as she heard the sounds of the hakeashar, and Bane used the distraction to cast a spell himself. He tore a ruby from his gauntlet. Then the stone vanished and a blood-red shaft of light surged toward the Goddess of Magic.
Bane gasped as Mystra harmlessly absorbed the effects of Nezram's Ruby Ray, a spell that should have separated the goddess from her avatar. Then Bane shuddered as a red beam of light shot back at him and pierced his chest. The beam hung in the air between Mystra and Bane like a rope.
"You were foolish to try a complicated spell," Mystra said. "The magical chaos seems to have finally caught up to you." With that, Mystra grabbed the beam with both hands.
Bane felt a horrible twisting inside. The red beam glowed brightly and a pulse of energy shot from his body to Mystra. The spell had misfired and was allowing Mystra to drain off his power.
Bane struggled to retain his senses as crimson bands grew from the beam and surrounded him, tugging at his flesh as if to tear it from his bones. He felt his ribs crack, one by one, as the force of the attack suddenly reversed itself, and threatened to crush the life from him. Mystra released the beam and it shot back at Bane.