Greyhawk - Greyhawk Classics 04 - The Temple of Elemental Evil by Greyhawk

Author:Greyhawk
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Greyhawk
Published: 2012-05-09T18:14:06+00:00

Shanhaevel stared at the priest. The once-handsome man was now horrible to look upon. His face bore scars inflicted by fire and sharp blades. Shanhaevel took an involuntary step back when he saw the feverish hatred in the man’s eyes. The other members of the Alliance saw it, too, for the elf heard several of his companions gasp, and no one made a move for several moments.

“Yes,” Lareth said, his once-honey voice now rough as gravel. Shanhaevel wondered what foul substances might have been poured down the man’s gullet to ruin the dulcet tones he remembered from before. “See what you have wrought upon me, what maiming you inflicted through your interference! Now you will suffer, as I suffered at your hands.”

Govin stepped forward, sword held high. “Nay, Lareth! These things you suffered were not our doing. You cannot blame us.”

“Wrong!” Lareth screamed, his eyes burning fiercely. “The pain! All the pain! And it was your faces I saw! Yours! You were there!”

“Think carefully.” Govin shook his head, apparently hoping he could still reason with the crazed cleric. “We did not defeat you, nor did we follow you from the moathouse. You fled, and someone else did these terrible things to you. We would not do those things. Only a cruel and hurtful master would visit such punishment, and a master like that does not deserve your loyalty. Cease this war, surrender to us, and we will help you. We will not mistreat you like the ones who scarred your face.”

Lareth seemed to listen to the knight for a moment, but when Govin reminded the priest of how his once-beautiful face was now ruined with scars, Lareth’s eyes blazed in crazed fury once more.

“Lies! I will not listen to them. You will die in the nodes of fire, water, earth, and air!”

Lareth’s horse reared on its hind legs, and the priest had to grab hold of the pommel of the saddle with both hands to keep from falling. Shanhaevel peered around, awaiting the inevitable approach of more of the enemy, but they never came. Aside from the roar of the flames and the stamping of the priest’s horse, it was strangely quiet.

A strong breeze wafted over the battleground, clearing the smoke and mist and giving the companions a better view of the carnage they had wrought. The land around the ruined farmhouse was literally piled with the bodies of the crazed priest’s army. The few left alive were fleeing into the woods. Only Lareth still stood fast, trying to regain control of his panicked and bucking mount. He was alone, facing all six of the companions.

The hatred still burned in the priest’s eyes, though it was now joined by something else, the elf saw. Lareth was afraid. He had witnessed six individuals defeat his army. Still, Lareth’s insane desire to destroy those whom he believed had maimed him drove him to hold his ground. His horse still seemed skittish, but Lareth maintained his position, glaring at the six of them.

“I will see you dead,” he spat, twirling his mace once.

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