Final Gate by Richard Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

the strongest of the three realms. It was a sun elf kingdom whose people hoped to build a realm to rival long-lost Aryvandaar.
    “But a new shadow fell over Siluvanede. The sun elves grew proud and ambitious Many were seduced into swearing allegiance to the daemonfey—though the Dlardrageths remained hidden for a long time, guiding the kingdom’s affairs in secret. Finally war broke out among the three kingdoms; Eaerlann and Sharrven stood together against Siluvanede. That was the Seven Citadels’ War.” Gaerradh glanced at Donnor and Maresa, hesitating, but then she continued. “In the last years of the war, the fey’ri legions appeared. The foulness of the daemonfey was revealed for all to see. But Eaerlann and Sharrven together overcame Siluvanede.
    “My ancestors bound the fey’ri and their masters in timeless magical prisons, buried beneath their ancient strongholds. The people of Eaerlann and Sharrven vowed to keep an eternal watch over these places.”
    Araevin picked up Gaerradh’s tale. “Sharrven fell not long after Siluvanede,” he said. “Eaerlann endured for many centuries more but was overthrown five hundred years ago, when demonic hordes emerged from Hellgate Keep and destroyed all the lands nearby.”
    Gaerradh nodded. “Our watch failed. By the time my people returned to this part of the forest, we’d forgotten the story of the old prisons. We knew that something old and evil slept in the secret strongholds of the forest, and so we kept watch. But we didn’t know why.”
    “You seem to have pieced it all together now,” Jorin observed.
    “Only because the daemonfey showed us what we’d forgotten.” Gaerradh shrugged. “I only learned the beginning of the story—the story of the fey’ri and the Seven Citadels’ War—after speaking with the sages and scribes of Silverymoon this summer.”
    “So Sarya Dlardrageth’s fey’ri army was’ imprisoned right in there—” Donnor Kerth nodded at the ruined hillside— “after some ancient elven civil war?”
    “Yes, you are right,” the wood elf answered.
    “Any idea of what lies buried here? What sort of magic or guardian monsters we might find?”
    Gaerradh shook her head. “We never set foot in the deeper halls of the Nameless Dungeon. They were sealed so thoroughly we didn’t even know they existed.”
    Araevin checked the wands he carried holstered on his left hip, and studied the dark opening in the hillside. “I suspect that Sarya emptied the place when she freed her legion. But there’s only one way to be sure, isn’t there?”

CHAPTER THREE
    25 Flamerule, the Year of Lightning Storms
     
    Maresa peered down each of four branching hallways, keeping her crossbow pointed in the direction she was looking. The deep halls of Nar Kerymhoarth were still as death, and the air was heavy with a damp, musty scent.
    “Another intersection,” the genasi said softly over her shoulder. “This place goes on forever, Araevin. Which way now?”
    Araevin studied their surroundings, stretching out with his senses as he attempted to discern any glimmer of the crystal. So far, the artifact had resisted any effort to magically determine its location. Either the stone was protected by its own powerful concealing enchantments, or the remaining wards of the Nameless Dungeon itself were sufficient to deflect any attempt to scry out the shard’s hiding place. After a moment, he gave up.
    “Your guess is as good as mine,” he told Maresa.
    “That’s hardly reassuring,” the genasi muttered. She looked for a moment more and turned to the passageway on her left. “This way first, then.”
    Maresa led the way as they followed the passage. Donnor and Jorin stayed close behind her, swords at the ready. They soon came to a series of alcoves or niches in the vault. The first few they passed were empty, but then they found one occupied by a tall statue of iron. It was shaped like a proud sun elf warrior, dressed in the same sort of ancient armor that