Gleaming white marble and bright sunlight filled Kinnevar’s view, a vista of blue stretching ahead and above of him. Where were they? Ash darted ahead, leaning over a balcony and looking down, Kinnevar following her. It was brilliantly bright and sunny, sun far too intense in a dazzlingly azure sky, empty of any clouds. He looked down – beneath them, he could see Sainted Hirata, the city in a valley between the mountains. This must be carved out of one of the surrounding peaks, and then shrouded by magic! Small wonder no-one had been able to find the treasures of the city, if they weren’t in the city itself, but hidden close by.

The balcony they had arrived on was large and well-maintained, surrounded by statues of the gods. He looked at them closely, not seeing any sign of magic within them – purely mundane statues, it seemed, rather than guardians or wardens. This place would have protectors of its own though, even if it was as simple as mundane guards. Vedlinia sheathed her sword and joined him, looking down. ‘Clever. I assumed a hidden vault, but this is far easier to hide and guard. A hidden place, only accessible via transportation magic?’

‘Anyone that doesn’t know where it is, can’t transport here, and it’s probably not possible to get here via mundane methods. Cunning. Now it remains to be seen what other protections are in place.’

‘I’ve seen guard rosters, so I would expect wardens at the minimum. And for the treasures contained here, I would expect a lot more than that.’

‘I can sense great power here.’ He looked closer – it was like staring at countless bright lights, the whole place shot through with glowing lines of power. Some must be responsible for keeping this place warm and preserved from the snow and chill expected this high up, but others were doubtless warnings or bindings, traps, or binding spirits that would attack invaders. He focused, shifting his clothing to something generically clerical, a chain of office forming around his neck, clothing designed to give the impression of robes without being from any specific faith or denomination.

‘Ash, if you could make yourself look like a nun?’ She was leaning too far over, just shy of tumbling over the edge, Vedlinia pulling her back.

‘Those are the friendly ladies you met, right?’ Her clothing melted and reformed, turning into a nun’s habit, her hair burning bright before the wimple enveloped it. It was overly tight and cut to the thigh, a leg flashing into sight as Ash jumped back from the balcony.

‘What order did these nuns belong to, exactly?’ Vedlinia asked.

‘Ah, I didn’t press them for theological details. But they were most hospitable.’

‘Yeah, he spent all night talking to them! Really loudly.’

Vedlinia looked at him, and he shrugged. ‘It was an enjoyable and mutually pleasurable discussion. It’s a shame they don’t have prisoners here, that could be a convenient excuse for your presence. Attractive though that outfit is, you do stand out somewhat.’

She tapped the hilt of her sword, magical energy rippling over her form. First it formed into her cloak from before, hood covering her face with magical darkness as it obscured her form, then she faded from vision. She was visible, barely, when she moved, like water rippling through air, vanishing entirely whenever she stopped.

‘You seem well practised in the arcane arts.’

The blur vanished, and then reappeared next to him. ‘I find it’s useful to have a variety of skills, and the blade bears potent magics of its own. And is less troublesome to command then your own, I think. Shall we continue?’

They stepped inside, Kinnevar walking confidently, although keeping his blade in hand. It would be easier if this could be accomplished without violence, not least because the full defences of this place would likely be fearsome. It was a long hallway, marble gleaming in the sunlight, deific faces staring blandly back. Why did the forces of good and law always have to be so boring? Beams of sunlight illuminated gleaming shards of crystal embedded into the stone, as his sword hummed and pulled on his hand, tugging towards the centre of this place.

There was only one way to go, so they advanced, Kinnevar at the front, occasionally glimpsing a ripple in the air as Vedlinia moved between what few pieces of cover there were. Ash trailed along behind, looking interested at first, rapidly getting bored at the repetition of the same statues and poses.

They approached another corner, heavy footsteps suddenly sounding, the rattle of armour. A troop of guards appeared; a dozen fighters in full armour and accompanied by a cleric, his tabard marked with the symbol of the god of battle. Magic surged, a blessing of some kind being invoked on the warriors, their armour and weapons sparkling. He saw the shimmer of Vedlinia as she pushed herself against the wall and tried to hide behind a statue, the shimmer fading from sight as she stopped moving.

Kinnevar seized the initiative, striding forward and putting his sword away, managing to force it into a more mundane shape, although he could feel it resisting and knew the alteration wouldn’t last long. He used magic to attach it to his back, before he extended a hand towards the leader of the soldiers, at least if the bands of rank were correct. Non-plussed, the fellow took his hand and shook it, Kinnevar meeting his eye and giving him a charming grin.

‘I wondered where you were, Captain! Was getting worried that someone had snuck into this place, and you were all dead already.’ He kept his grip on the man’s hand, shaking it again before letting it drop, the man wincing slightly and clenching his fist. He looked behind the captain, making a show of counting. ‘I was expecting more. Not even two squads? Didn’t you get the news?’ He made himself sound not quite entirely panicked, but projecting a poorly-hidden nervousness.

Several of the solders glanced at each, looking uncertain as the Captain tried to assert his position. ‘You can’t be here without authorisation. We’ll have to take you to the cells until we can verify your identity.’

‘Didn’t you hear me, man? You need to increase your patrols, have everyone on the perimeters.’ He looked at the captain in exasperation. ‘Kinnevar Ultremar is rumoured to be coming! The city’s in a panic, the whole Convocation’s turned out looking for him. You must know what’s stored up here.’

‘You mean…’ The captain left it hanging.

Kinnevar nodded gravely. ‘Indeed. We don’t know how he might be getting in, but you know what he’s capable of! If anyone can get into here, then it’s him. How many men do you have here? You need to rouse them, NOW!’

The soldiers jumped as he barked orders, several of them starting to move before remembering themselves and stopping, looking at the captain for guidance.

‘I can’t authorise that, Sir. Do you have any proof of this?’

Kinnevar loomed, the captain taking a step back as he raised his hands. The shimmer moved from behind the statue, something slipping into his palm. He flipped it around to reveal the item Vedlinia had stolen, the golden disc. He revealed it, managing to dramatically catch a beam of sunlight, angling it across the eyes of the captain, making him blink and wince. ‘He could be sneaking around as we speak! Would I be here if I didn’t have the highest authorisation? I have with me an elite agent of the faiths, what more proof do I need?’

He gestured at Ash, who looked at him for a moment before waggling her fingers in a vague imitation of spell-casting, before spitting a gob of flame into her palm, making it dance and weave.

‘Flamewarden Senillis?’ The captain paled. ‘My apologies, master, I didn’t recognise you! That form, uh, looks most unlike your true self.’

Kinnevar didn’t recognise the name, but at this point it barely mattered. ‘They’re in disguise! The better to catch the fool, if he can’t recognise them! Now, go rouse your men. I need to secure the vault, and you need to get your men onto the perimeter. Now!’

This time the barked order had an effect, the Captain making a salute before turning back to his own men, ordering them to return to the barracks and rouse the others, before making a full perimeter sweep and to fully man the watchtowers. The armoured priest approached, looking more suspicious, one hand on the mace at his waist, ready to fight.

‘And who did you say you were?’

Kinnevar looked over his shoulder, checking the soldiers were all looking away. In a single move, he whipped the sword over his shoulder, slicing into the man’s neck. A purr of pleasure rumbled from the blade as black energy washed out, sealing the wound shut again. The man’s eyes turned black, his body going rigid and stiff.

Kinnevar spoke loudly, making sure he could be heard. ‘Very brave of you. You can accompany me to the Vault. Good luck, captain!’

The soldiers left and Ash approached the cleric, poking him a few times. He didn’t respond, although a faint black glow now surrounded him, his soul bound to Kinnevar’s command. ‘You always do this! I’m not eating this one, your magic makes them taste funny.’ She grimaced. ‘Do I have to pretend to be someone now?’

‘I don’t think so, no. That was a convenient ruse.’

A barely repressed ripple of laughter came from behind a statue. ‘You scared them by making them look for you? That’s so stupid it’s genius.’

He shrugged. ‘I am, after all, the greatest threat on the continent, am I not? There are few things better for ensuring everyone will be on the outer walls, looking for my imminent arrival. And this place must be isolated, otherwise it would have been easier to find, so I doubt they will have heard any other news for a while. When I fail to arrive, then, well, the good captain can scarcely be blamed for diverting his resources to deal with a threat of such magnitude, can he? I’m not quite sure who he thinks Ash is, but that seems a problem for the future, if ever.’

He issued a mental command to the deceased cleric, making them walk forward. ‘Hopefully this one will be able to help with any protections on the vault itself.’ Ash poked them again. ‘I can only command one at a time, and only for a short time, but they retain knowledge of their life. Somewhat more useful than raising a mindless undead.’

Vedlinia’s voice came from further down the hallway. ‘Let’s get moving, in case anyone else thinks to ask about the “mysterious stranger” further! I doubt their confusion will last that long.’

They advanced until they came to a junction, one passageway heading deeper into the mountain this place was carved from, the other curving further around the outside, probably leading to the barracks. Runes of warning, in this case only ornamental, were cut into the floor and walls, proving no hindrance to further passage. The tunnel was steeply angled, rapidly narrowing, the threats getting worse as they progressed. The golden token flashed as they advanced, allowing them passage, warding spells sliding over their skin like soap bubbles without activating.

The stone walls started to shake, moving inwards, the narrow passage getting even thinner, threatening to block their passage onwards. Kinnevar shuffled backwards, letting the cleric move forward. ‘Get us in.’

The cleric stared blankly back, before starting a ritual of some kind. Their hands moved slowly through a complicated set of movements, the encroachment of the walls slowing, then stopping. It was still only a narrow passageway, but at least it wasn’t shrinking even more, threatening to crush them!

‘Can you ask him if there’s anything else ahead? This has been too easy so far.’ Vedlinia’s shimmer moved close to him.

‘It doesn’t work like that. He’s obedient, but can’t talk, so I can command him, but nothing more. His soul is only loosely bound. It’s a properly of the blade – convenient for making an obedient servant, but it does have limitations.’

He felt her push past, unseen but present, a whisper of hair against his shoulder. ‘That’s less useful. At least we can throw him at any monsters up here, I suppose.’ He could hear the walls grinding and quaking somewhere behind them, the passages apparently able to shift and warp. ‘I hope you have some clever way out of here, I don’t think it’ll be as easy to get out.’

‘I think I can manage. If nothing else, Ash can transport us, although her teleportation spells are often poorly targeted and she tends to forget other people can’t fly and drop people into the open air. Ash, can you sense anything?’ He focused his attentions for a moment, the air turning bright with countless colours, far too much power, far too many different spells, all in one place for him to tell anything useful.

She paused, sniffing the air. ‘It’s close. But there’s something else as well. Smells like you, Kin. Old and dark.’

‘Hey, I’m still in my prime, you’re older than I am! Let’s keep moving.’

The walls abruptly shifted from rough earth to worked stone again. From ahead, a chill wind started pushing against him, shards of ice forming and shooting forth. They were razor-sharp, cutting and slicing his skin. Kinnevar turned, trying to present less of a target and raising his sword to further shield himself with Ash hiding behind him, her breath licking out and melting some of the ice as she puffed her fire. He commanded the cleric to move to the front and continued advancing behind them, trying to locate the source of the wind.

There it was, ahead of them, an ice-blue spell nexus. It hovered in the air, viciously cold air blowing from it, freezing air into the needles of ice. He heard motion from behind, a blur leaping over him, sensed only as a shape blocking the wind and air, something slashing at the nexus. It dimmed, the assault of ice weakening and making it easier to press forward. Vedlinia had vanished into the shadows again, her footsteps going silent as she returned to her stealth.

The passageway abruptly ended; a stone wall showed an elaborate depiction of the Black Triad being defeated. Three figures; one armoured, two robed, lying defeated before the tattered remnants of the elven empire, and the heroes of the other races that had aided them. And, of course, the Book, Bell and Blade, each depicted in detail. Although the Blade had changed shape since then, becoming more spiked and rough-edged.

There was a hairline crack down the centre, indicating that it was more than just a wall, that it could be opened. There was no obvious keyhole, or even a central point to show how it could be opened. He commanded the cleric: Open it. They stood there, not moving, unable to comply; they either didn’t know how, or were bound to some deeper oath to keep this place sealed.

He wondered how deep into the mountain they were – this far in, any mundane security would be far away. He hoped. He drew his sword, letting it revert fully to its natural form, shapes appearing within the metal, vague impressions of screaming, tormented faces, each fading into vision for a moment before vanishing.

He thrust forward, putting all his strength and weight behind the strike, stabbing into the crack between the doors. The stone had been reinforced with magic, a helical barrier appearing and resisting his attack, as darkness surged up from the blade, eroding away the magic. A faint silver light shone within the blade now, a dim echo of the magic of the barrier, as the blade absorbed the power into itself.

The stone started to crack and splinter, sword now able to bite into the material directly. A crowned head, probably that of Gallinius the fallen king of Ashra, the slayer and prisoner of the Bell, shattered into dust as Kinnevar struck again, this time able to penetrate straight through the barrier and into the stone. He twisted the blade inside the rock, sundering the stone further, cracks now rippling up and down the stone as he hacked into it.

It took some doing, but it wasn’t long until there was a crack in the door, large enough to squeeze through. Ash pulled herself through first. A delighted squeal came from the other side, indicating they had probably found their destination.