A soft chiming tone rang gently through the room, just as PG and Lapsyng leapt back from the doors in surprise. There was the faintest of hissing and the double doors slid open to reveal a strange figure; an old wizened man with a shock of white hair and kindly blue eyes surrounded by laughter lines. He smiled warmly, and all of the party felt a strong impulse to smile back.
His apparel was very different to anything any of the group had seen before. None of them could recognise the fabric, or the style and cut of the trousers and shirt. Pinned to his breast there was an ornate looking brooch, studded with little gems that twinkled with red and blue lights. Lapsyng who was closest spotted a highly unusual earring on his left ear. It was a strange design in silvery metal that was attached to the outer shell but seemed to have a component that actually covered the ear hole itself.
Behind the man they could see a long hallway, lit with the same kind of muted soft light that filled the party’s long room. The walls and floor were lined with a marble like material much the same as they had already seen, but there were checker work patterns in the floor. In muted grey greens and cream. A series of doors could be seen running down the hall on either side but no windows. A soft and gentle music filled the hall, a little like the bell like tones of a giant harp – but there was no sign of musicians.
The man reached up and touched one of the lights in his brooch, and then bending over softly whispered to it. Lapsyng strained to catch the words but could not make anything out. The old man caught Lapsyng’s eye and smiled again, a gentle smile with just a hint of mischief and laughter. He turned again to face the whole room and held out both hands palm face up, and then bowed a little from the shoulders. He took two steps back still smiling and beckoned, and then gestured to the hallway stretching out behind him.
Ceylar strode to the front of the party and in commanding tones spoke to the newcomer.
“Now I have no idea where we are; and why were brought here. Therefore before I make a single step I demand you tell us what this whole thing is about!'”
The old man’s smile slipped a little, but then returned though there was a wary look in his eyes. He nodded to Ceylar and spoke to her. His voice was surprisingly strong and clear for a man of his years, but his words were totally incomprehensible. Once again he beckoned and gestured to the hall, and then returned to his previous posture – standing with his hands held out before him palms facing upwards.
Da'ar grunted at Ceylar
“Bah! Lassie, you refusin' ain't getting us any closer. Let'sa go dis way, he's canna talk wit' us, but mayhaps someone down yonder can.'
With a toothy grin displaying a not inconsiderable amount of food Da’ar said to the man "A'ight, old un, you’s takes us where ever you’s be tryin’ to, but you’s better be nice, or me’s gonna split ya head.”
The old mans winced visibly at Da’ar’s gruff tones. He took a seemingly involuntary step backwards, disgust written on his face. Bending over he whispered urgently into his brooch. The man then took a deep, calming breath and cocked his head to the left –just as if he was listening to something, but other than the gentle music no sounds could be heard. . Distaste and fear could be clearly seen battling with resolve on his face, and then suddenly he appeared to come to a decision. Once again he bowed and smiles – beckoning the party down the hall. This time his smile was not as carefree – it seems to be tinged with something else, something hard to place. Could it be pity?
Assam moved to the centre of the room, facing the man but not moving forward. With a frown of concentration marring her olive skinned face and dark almond shaped eyes, the shy cleric began to speak. The others waited in silence as she greeted the old man, fist in the common language and then in tongues from the desert and from older, almost forgotten times. There was no response.
Assam sighed. Perhaps sign language would do better than the spoken word. She raised her hands, elbows bent with the palms facing up into the universally recognised questioning gesture. Next she pointed at that highly unusual brooch that seemed to be so important and repeated the gesture. There now, everyone would be able to understand her meaning - what is so important about that?
The man’s eyes turned to her filled with warmth, but clearly puzzled. Once again he repeated his beckoning. Assam turned to the rest of the group and shrugged helplessly, admitting defeat.
Errol spoke in quiet but authoritative tones
“Although we can't understand this man it is quite clear what he wants us to do. I suggest we walk down the hallway. Indeed, we have little choice. We can stay here in this room for as long as we want, but it will get us no closer to what we want to know - what happened last night and why are we here."
Earl walked slowly up to the man, bowed his head slightly in formal greeting and passed him, into the hallway.
Twia grimaced.
"Bah, I hate it when we can't do anything. I will cooperate as well, for now; but the moment this man shows any signs of evil nature, even though nothing around here looks evil in any way..."
Her voice trailed off in implied threat as she too walked into the hallway.
"Hiya!"
PG made her mind up. After all staying here meant they would never get to where they were going, wherever that was. So, it was definitely time to move. Pleased with her dazzling display of deductive reasoning she threw a quick grin and a breezy greeting to the old man, and then paused to call out to the others
"Well come on then!"
The look in her eyes and the impatient tapping of her foot gave a clue to the impatience steadily building inside Ceylar. Just where did these fools think they were going? And why did this old man keep refusing to answer them? She turned deeply suspicious eyes on the man in white.
“ Before I move a single step I demand you tell us what is going on here!!”
Da’ar had finally had enough of stubborn bloody women who refused to listen to plain good sense. With a muttered comment about bloody elves and foolish females and the combination of the two, he placed his hands on Ceylar’s buttocks and rudely shoved her into the hallway.
Ceylar gasped in mortified shock! She already made it abundantly clear she did NOT like being touched, but here was this obnoxious dwarf pushing her! With a shriek of outrage and fury blazing in her eyes she turned swiftly on her heel and swung her open palm at the ghastly man’s face. With a chuckle he easily ducked the incoming blow.
“Take your hands off me at once, you horrible little man! I do not like to be touched! If you ever do that again I will make damned sure you never touch anyone else!”
As Ceylon shrieked the old man winced, took a few steps back and whispered frantically into his brooch.
Earl sighed heavily and stepped between the pair. "Come now, save your threats for the real enemy, whoever that is! Ceylar, you are not going to die from a simple touch, no matter where it is. Da'ar, if you give her a chance Ceylar will come along with us willingly. She has little choice in the matter, as she clearly can’t stay here on her own."
Ceylon took a calming breath and regained her composure. In an icy tone she addressed the impertinent paladin.
“It is not up to you to decide whether I will or will not die from this fool’s touch. I have not made a practise of letting every ape that wants to touch me, and I never will. I simply will not have it.”
She fairly hissed the next words at the dwarf.
'I repeat, never do that again or you will suffer the consequences.”
Twai watched the quarrel about nothing with an expression of faint amusement on her face. This was so typical, bickering amongst themselves about nothing of real importance when there were serious matters afoot. In a prim and somewhat schoolmarmish voice she began to berate the group.
"Now stop acting like little children, we have much more important matters to deal with. The last thing what we need is this kind of useless discord. Just walk quietly on, but be wary. Things may not be as we would wish them to be, and there may be evil behind this. We will have to be ready to fight at a moments notice"
By now PG had seen enough of this foolish behaviour. She also stepped between Ceylar and Da’ar, and spoke fiercely to the dwarf.
“Da’ar you brute! Never lay another hand on Ceylar again!” Her back was turned to Ceylar and though her tone was harsh and serious, she flashed a quick wink to Da’ar, letting him know she was just trying to mollify the touchy mage.
"Come with me my lady. I shall ensure that any man wishing to touch you has to touch me first!" PG struck a defensive pose alongside Ceylar, and tried to gently shepherd her through the door.
The byplay between the members of the little party did not seem to be easing the man’s distress, if anything it was increasing. By now he had backed even further down the hall, making sure no one was behind him. He appeared to be vehemently talking to his brooch throughout and shaking his head in denial, almost as if he was responding to being spoken to.
Lapsyng raised one elegant hand in gentle reprimand.
“Children, children, children. You cannot force a bond of camaraderie. Also it is plainly obvious that force seems to distress our host. Errol has told us that to all intents and purposes, there is no evil here. Common sense tells us that beings that leave no trace of evil themselves would be highly likely to despise any form of evil at all. We are making somewhat of a bad first impression here, and I would recommend that you leave Ceylon make her own mind up. I have seen many parents get reluctant children to follow them by threatening to leave them behind. This may just hold true for reluctant adults as well. Why not just come along, and let Ceylon decide if she'd rather be stubborn and alone or follow us."
With a graceful bow Lapsyng swiftly grabbed two wedge of cheese then headed through the door, handing one of the cheeses to PG and humming a jaunty tune as he did so.
PGs eyes followed the elf hungrily as he brushed last her, and she let out an involuntary sigh.
"Oooh, such elegance and poise!”
Assam spotted the man steadily backing away from the group. Be damned by the seven hells, they seemed to be losing him. She slowly walked to wards him, one arms held out palm up in an attempt to echo his earlier posture as it had seemed to mean friendship and peace. All the same, she kept her other hand on her mace, just in case.
There was a clearly audible loud sniff. Ceylar drew herself up to her full height and turned a steely gaze on the bard. How dare this impertinent elf compare HER to a reluctant child! Well, she would soon see about that.
In a loud, ringing and very cold voice she addressed him. “You there, bard! Kindly refrain form interfering in discussions that have nothing to do with you whatsoever!”
Ceylon’s icy tones seem to be the last straw fore the poor man in white. He rapidly backed down the hall keeping his eyes fixed on the party. Assam stood forward with her hand raised, and he stopped as she met his eyes for a brief moment. Then his eyes fell directly onto Assam’s hand resting on her mace. His face was a mask of total shock and his hand moved swiftly to the brooch, and touched one of the glowing gems.
The air between in front of him shimmered and distorted. A translucent wall of rippling light formed across the hall –as though the party were gazing out from a cave behind a waterfall into a silver moonrise. They saw the distorted and flickering figure of the old man turn on his heels and hurry down the hall. The doors at the far end slid open, he ran through, the doors shut and all fell quiet.
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