<HTML> **** "Now trust me, Misha, this is very simple," Rickkter explained, gesturing with his small knife for emphasis. The raccoon and fox were in a small store room with the Moranasi acolyte strapped to a heavy oak chair in the center. Her legs and arms were securely tied to the chair and the bag had been removed, through her gag was still in place. She was seated in a circle of intense white light in the otherwise pitch black room, watching the two who had brought her here where they stood at the edge of the dark deciding her fate. The fox-man crossed his arms and gave the woman a look of distaste. "Um, I don't know. Seems barbaric. Not to mention very messy." "And that is why it'll work. Truth spells can be circumnavigated, I should know. Besides, we would still have to get her to speak on that topic. She could just as easily remain silent the whole time." "But still, why not use one here? Wouldn't this just enhance the effect?" "As I said, they can still be worked around. It would just make *us* think that she is telling the truth, and then where would we be? No, I've found this way much better, even if it does get a little messy. I'm glad the Lightbringer was able to lend us these old clothes for that, though." Merai crouched in one darkened corner of the room behind the prisoner, listening to the dialogue between the two warriors. David was at her side, what little light that filtered into the darkness gleaming occasionally on his carapace. Both of them had been in the room since before the prisoner was brought in and she was certain they had not been noticed. Merai could understand why Raven had insisted that Rickkter be given free rein in the interrogation, though she had been rather dubious before hearing the full extent of the plan. David had told it to her while setting the spells to the room. She had to give the mage credit for ambience; the single intense light web he had woven on the ceiling, and the darkness spells cast elsewhere, gave the storeroom the perfect atmosphere of a dungeon inquisition chamber. Now all she had to do was pay attention to the protective Moranasi spell. "Okay, true," the fox eventually conceded. "So where do we start? Knock out a few teeth perhaps?" "No, the best place to start is the hands. Not only are they not vital, and the person can still watch and hear everything that is going on, but the pain is tremendous! If done right, one doesn't even have to go beyond that!" "She can still lie to us, you know. And I've broken fingers before, it's not that bad." "Who said anything about breaking? No, we're going to cut them clean off. What did you think this was for?" he asked, brandishing the knife. Merai fidgeted a little, trying to keep her mind off Rickkter's rather graphic instructions for physical torture and on the mind of the Moranasi acolyte before her. It was her job to use her aura-sight to gently probe the prisoner while Rickkter and Misha distracted her, waiting until the right thoughts floated to the surface before breaking the Moranasi shield and telling David to trigger the telepathy spell to snatch those thoughts right from the prisoner's mind. Rickkter held up his little finger and held the knife blade against the underside of his bottom knuckle. "First, you cut off the little finger, like so." He pulled the knife across in a mock cutting motion. "Now that hurts. A LOT. Far, far more than simply breaking the bone. The fingers are very sensitive, Misha. After that--" he turned to the seated woman, "I hope you're paying attention to this part- we skip all the other fingers and threaten to move right to the thumb." Merai and David could hear the woman pull in a sharp breath through her nose. The entire room reeked with the smell of sweat and fear. At least the prisoner had not soiled herself, though by the way Rickkter and Misha were going she wouldn't be that far away. The fox shook his head again, his bushy tail lashing around his legs. "I STILL don't think that will work, Rick." "Just wait! I've done this before, and I know that it will. A person will sell out their own mother rather than face the pain of having their thumb cut off. And if not, we still have three other fingers to work with and the whole other hand. And then the rest. Trust me." "Trust me, he says." Misha looked at the panic-stricken woman in the wooden chair, jerking against the ropes. His steely, gray eyes catching the harsh white illumination and boring into the Moranasi. "Okay, you're on. I want to see this in action." "Excellent." Rickkter stepped into the center of the circle and took the woman's hand in his paw. She tried to fight him, trashing about harder in the chair. But the knots that Misha had tied her down with were too good, too confining, and she wasn't able to do anything. She tried to scratch the raccoon's hand with her nails, but he just used his own leverage to bend her fingers back to near the breaking point. "Shouldn't we take the gag off now? In case she wants to tell us something?" "With hearing like yours, and in a room like this, you want to listen to her scream when I cut this off?" "Good point." The prisoner's thoughts were coming hard and fast to Merai, boiling right through the Moranasi mind shield. Most of them centered around doing anything to avoid the pain that was to come. She was on the verge of telling Rickkter or Misha anything they wanted, and truthfully telling it as well. Merai placed her paw on one of David's arms, leaning in close to whisper. The time to act would be soon. Rickkter placed the needle point of his knife against the webbing of her left little finger and the ring finger, pressing her hand against the arm of the chair to control its shaking. He leaned the edge against the flesh, drawing a fine trickle of blood. When he looked into her eyes, he could clearly see the utter panic there, and hear her breath rushing in through her dilated nostrils. She in turn looked into the madness of those brown eyes. And then the raccoon smiled. "It's nothing personal, you know. We just want the truth about where your masters are hiding." He bent back to the task at hand. "But we have to do this." The spells practically crumbled before the poor girl's frantic mind, much to Merai's own relief. "Now," she whispered to the crouched ant beside her. The woman was screaming through her gag at Rickkter when, all of a sudden, her back bowed and her whole body went rigid. Merai could imagine her eyes rolling back in her head as she saw the aura of David's magic envelop her. After a few seconds the prisoner went limp. The raccoon looked over the woman's shoulder to where he knew the cleric and the other mage were waiting. "You got it?" "We got it," David called back. "Oh, good." He straightened up and wiped off the little blood on his knife on the Moranasi's cloak and patted her shoulder. "No offense, dear, but I've already gotten bloody enough recently, and I really don't look forward to cleaning it out of my fur any more." The woman in the chair gaped at him and then started looking around the room, wildly twisting her head as she tried to spot the other two in the darkness. She was yelling something also, and Misha stepped forward to remove her gag. "Bah! A trick?!" she shouted. "This was all a trick?!" "Yup," Misha proudly proclaimed as the Lightbringer and mage came to stand with him and Rick, all four gathered just within the range of the light web. "We had David here use a telepathy spell to steal the information from your mind while Rickkter and I distracted you. We figured that you couldn't hide from a telepathy spell behind your own shields if one, you weren't expecting it, and two, you had something else to focus on. I think it all worked pretty well, considering."    The four started out of the room to find someone to untie the prisoner and move her to a more acceptable cell.    "Considering? Considering what?!" she shouted at their backs.    "Considering that we both wanted to do it for real." The fox paused. "And if that trick hadn't of worked we would have. God forgive me, but we would have." ************ ~0~ Divine Intervention With just a hint of hesitation, Raven lit the incense offering and sat back on her heels before the altar, softly speaking the final words of the ancient prayer. She had never performed this particular summoning before -- had never seen _Him_ before -- and she was just a little uneasy about the whole matter. Still, under the circumstances she had little choice. In the apse on the far side of the altar, a thick gray fog began spilling through the semicircular window. It rolled across the floor of the hall with a quiet whisper of wind, until Raven was surrounded by it on all sides. Respectfully, she lowered her head. Moments later, a deep, strong voice echoed through the room. "You summoned me, Raven hin'Elric?" "Lord Dokorath," Raven said quietly. "You honor me with your presence." "That," the voice said sternly, "was not an answer." The priestess swallowed. "Aye, my lord. It was I who summoned you." "To what purpose?" "To ask for your assistance in our battle. The Wizard's forces are attempting to paralyze the Lady Kyia." A pause. "And why should I care what befalls that little will o'wisp?" Raven's ear twitched, as something unpleasant flickered through the Keep's aura around her. "Because, my lord," she said, "the mages doing the deed are Moranasi." Another pause, this one far longer. "Lift up your head, Raven." The wolf-woman did so -- and for the first time, beheld the God of War in person. She was quite surprised at what she saw. While his appearance was largely just as the books described him -- tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in full battle armor and a helm that obscured his face -- he looked as if he had been through all nine hells and back again. His armor was blackened, dented and scarred in dozens of places from head to toe, and the broadsword he wore at his side was marred by nicks all along its length. "My lord?" Raven breathed. "What happened?" "It is none of your concern," Dokorath said, waving his hand dismissively. "Despite my appearance, I am nearly recovered from that ... incident. You say that the Moranasi are here?" "Aye, my lord. A full circle of them," the priestess said, nodding. "They have cast a spell to freeze the structure of Metamor, and are slowly expanding it by placing relays throughout the Keep. We know where they plan to cast their next spell, and we intend to strike before they complete it -- but we cannot win without your help, my lord." The war-god grinned, his perfect teeth glistening white within the shadows cast by his helmet. "To wipe six Moranasi from the face of this planet, I will gladly provide it," he said. "But they must be completely destroyed, and any of their possessions which you recover must be burned in sacrifice to me." "It shall be done, my lord." "Very good." Coming down from the pedestal to stand beside the altar, Dokorath placed a gauntleted hand on its polished granite surface. It flared with a sudden white light, then faded. "For the next twenty-four hours, any weapon you place on the altar and bless in my name will be filled with a measure of my power," he said. "They will protect your warriors from the Moranasi's spells, though only in part. The blades themselves will cut like mithril until they are broken or the Moranasi have been destroyed." Approaching Raven more closely, the armored being placed two fingers to her forehead. Instantly, she felt divine power flow into her. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation as the energy filled her being. "Share this blessing with your comrades in arms," Dokorath said soberly. "If they will not accept it, it will return to you." "Aye, my lord," she murmured. "It shall be done." "Fight well, Raven hin'Elric." There was another rush of wind, and Raven opened her eyes to see that both the fog and the war-god had vanished. Turning her aura-sight upon the altar, she could see Dokorath's energy crawling over it like a living thing. Smiling, she extinguished the incense and rose to her feet. The time to strike was coming, and there was still much to be done. **** End part 66</HTML>