Determining to seek out the Halls of the Master (to recover Calanor's blade and perhaps prevail upon Lord Diker to use the mirrors that are now his charge to transport you to where the city of Kalibar once stood, that you might find the lost entrance to Garek Enkdal nearby) you set out beneath the shining sun that drives away the mists, heading north west, skirting the foothills towards the Sankaduin, the Snake River that was, and the hamlet of Osen'tauri.

Alasha'an and Brugar have been this way before, and are able to guide you well enough ... though neither are familiar enough with the land to be able to locate the stone-covered shallow grave wherein they laid the body of Martje, the seer who gave her life to awaken the Sleepers of the prophecy she believed in when there were few others who did.  Perhaps for the best, for the old woman in life would have pointedly asked if you did not have more important matters to attend to than wasting your time and disturbing her rest ...

You pass by twisted and withered trees that sprout from the sparse tufts of grass and gorse that spring from the ground, surviving till now on what little light had filtered through the mists, yet looking even more miserable beneath the light of day.

The trees thin even more, ... and you cannot avoid noticing the bones, both animal and human, some disturbingly fresh, that litter the worn trail you now follow amid the tussocks.

Before long the path dips, and you are forced to slow, loose gravel making footing uncertain.  The splash of water reaches your ears and shortly thereafter you catch sight of the Sankaduin, flanked by black banks, its waters turgid, not free-flowing, the smell unpleasant - more so than either Elf or Dwarf recall from last time.

North lies Osen'taurie, a mean village, little more than a hamlet that was no more pleasant than the river it lies besides ... but your path lies south, and your destination is now close.

The land gradually rises as the twisting trail you tread follows a passage between low hills that soon becomes a ravine, sheltered between sheer walls of rock that loom to either side.

Not much further along, the ravine opens out into a wide depression, the path leading out onto a rocky peninsula with sheer sides dropping twenty feet or so into marshland, the muted roar of falling water in the distance indicating perhaps how the swamp is fed.

At the end of the peninsula stands a building that might once have been impressive, but now seems a little unkempt, with its stones crumbling and the roof collapsed in places.  The spires atop the central tower and a lower dome are carved in the fashion of beasts, maws wide open, staring down upon you.

Ahead the path leads to an entrance arch, through which can be seen the form of a large figure which  Hamin, Yetta and Ayas, not having seen it before, at first mistake for a guard of some sort, though as you draw closer, you see that it is but a statue, fashioned of granite, in contrast to the iron-tinged rock of these hills.

The Halls of the Master.

Brugar's eyes scan their suuroundings intently as the party approaches the Halls of the Master. He scowls when he sees the statue in the entry hall.

"That damned stone golem be still there, curse it. Myshrall were the only one as made it past unscathed, and only 'cos 'e were too little and nimble for it to clobber. Axe an' sword didn't even scratch it, so the rest of us climbed up and over the roof instead. Ye can see where the roof be caved in, though. Footin' up there ain't good. Then there was a whole pack of some sort of feral beasts prowlin' round inside an' climbin' up on the roof as well, an' a huge ape-like demon-thing inside. Weren't no easy way in, that's for sure, though we did kill 'em all eventually. Ah wonder what'll be waitin' for us this time?"

Hamin grimaces at Brugar's tales, "So what do you suggest?" He asks the dwarf.  "Do you think we could we run past it?  Or do you think our weapons might be more effective this time? Or perhaps we should try and climb again?"

He looks around at the others, "Perhaps Ayas has  something that will be effective?  But then, we don't know what to expect once we get past it ..."

"I can try to slow it with spider-webs," Ayas suggests. "That has worked for us before.. though I doubt this one will be so obliging as to desist if Yetta asks it nicely."

The elf shrugs. "Last time here our reception was not friendly, but the new Master of these halls might now be counted as a friend. Perhaps we should just announce ourselves?"

"Maybe we're on the guest list !"

"Running past it didn't work last time. Ye'd be surprised 'ow fast that big hunk of granite can move," Brugar tells Hamin.

"Ye might be right, lass," he says to Alasha'an. "More likely to get a friendly welcome that way than if'n we drop in through the roof again."

"So where do we knock?" Hamin asks?

"Let's ruin all of Ayas's illusions and just ask nicely." Alasha'an shrugs, grinning broadly at the young elf.

Matter not that the Halls have a new master now, the courtyard beyond the archway is in much the same state of disrepair that Brugar and Alasha'an might remember from their last visit, with what were once decorative urns lying around the gravel yard before a pair of heavy metal bound doors, cracked and overgrown with weeds.  To one side is what seems to be a stable block, also fallen into disuse.

As you approach, the towering metal statue that stand twice the height of a man stirs, moving towards you ... yet stops as Alasha'an tries her luck with a polite request, and indeed turns about, pushing the huge doors open as it heads into the sprawling and labyrinthine building, proceeding at a pace that you can easily match.

The doors give way to a large room, seventy feet long and fifty wide, the ceiling thirty feet in height beyond.  The stone floor is layered with dust, though tracked by many footprints, the smell of stale air lingering.  A large table has what would once have been pride of place, though now the wood is splintered and neglected, chairs broken and scattered for the most part, though one or two remain intact.  The smooth stone walls are lined with tattered tapestries and pennants, colours faded so as to be barely discernible.

The statue does not linger, moving steadly to the far end of the room and passing through a smaller set of double doors that lead to what might once have been an audience chamber from its ornate but dusty decorations.  What you can see of the floor indicates that it is fashioned from marble, with sweeping patterns and strange symbols. Torn and rotted purple drapes hang on the east wall behind a throne carved of ebony upon a dias.

Again, the statue does not slow its progress, turning west and through another pair of double doors into a passage that seems narrow for it, though not for you.  To the south the passage continues, and you note a number of doorways, though the statue turns instead to the north, intent upon the single door that stands at the west at the far end.

Following close, you find yourself in what was once perhaps the servants dining room. Here some effort has been made to clean and tidy and while the furniture is in a sorry state of repair, it is at least free of dust and seems sturdy enough.

Upon one chair, sits Diker, a giant of a man with a trim beard, picking at a plate of food.  He looks up, startled, as he sees you, adjusting his grip upon his eating knife, then breathing a sigh of relief as he recognises the Dwarf and Elf.

"Glad am I to see you once more," he smiles, lowering his blade.  "Yet this time with different companions, I see ?"

Hamin nods his greeting to the man, but stands back and lets Brugar and Alasha'an do the talking.  After all, they know the man.

Brugar returns the big man's smile as he replies.

"Aye, Ah be glad to see ye again too, Diker. We were none too sure what we would find 'ere. The paths we've trod since we was 'ere last 'as not been ones we'd recommend a friend to follow in our footsteps. We've lost too many good friends but made a few new friends along the way."

He proceeds to introduce Ayas, Hamin and Yetta but doesn't provide any details beyond those names.

"There are many ways to die out there," Alasha'an says bluntly, "though it's good to see that you're still with us!"

"Is Lothar?" the elf leaves her question regarding the fate of the priest hanging.

The Master of the halls, acknowledges Hamin, Yetta and Ayas with a wave of his hand, beckoning you all to take a seat.

"I have been keeping an eye on Talhamnoduin," Diker tells Brugar. "Indeed, I've just escaped my vigil, driven hence by hunger, I confess."

At this thought, the bearded man reaches for a small handbell, ringing it softly to summon his elderly servant whom he bids fetch more provisions.  The old man returns shortly, placing a tray on the table which contains bread, cheese and watered wine.

"The cuisine has not improved," Diker apologises wryly, inviting you to tuck in as his servant sets out plates and wine cups for you all.

"No ... Lothar left," he tells Alasha'an.  "I do not know if he yet lives or no, but can only hope for the best."

"The Painting shows the Dark Gods forces in disarray - the Drow and their ilk have abandoned the holes in which they hid, braving the light of the new sun as they make their retreat.  Soon the city will be free of them !"