She yowled in pain as the change over took her, her inhumane cry echoing across the woodland. Her bones snapped and contorted, muscles growing loose and taunt. Her form shrank from the lumbering gray wolf to her small human form. She shook violently, her face beaded with sweat. Her eyes traveled up once to meet Khalin's shocked eyes. And then the world swiveled off its axis...all was black.

Then the wolf collapsed to the floor. Its limbs began to spasm as if they were fueled by lightning. Flesh began to rend, and the thing began to contort. Khalin looked on, horrified. What the devil? He took another step back, and tentatively armed his war fork.

By now, the contorted shape had shed all of its fur, and was writhing into the form of a humanoid. It let out a sound that was half a whimper, half a cry. The face began to remold itself as well, and Khalin noted that there was a familiarity to it. His grip on the war fork loosened.

With the transformation nearly complete, Khalin looked down on the form of a human woman, still obviously in pain. She was breathing heavily, and sweating from exhaustion. Her hair was matted to the sides of her head so that he could not see her face. This isn't normal for a polymorph spell... is it? He had no knowledge of the spell from experience, but this seemed wrong. Perhaps she is cursed with lycanthropy?

She was on the ground, resting on her elbows and knees. He could see her back expanding and contracting as she desperately tried to take in enough air. Her head turned upward staring straight at Khalin. Amanda?!? Then, exhausted beyond measure, darkness overtook her. She collapsed to her side, the motion in her lungs finally ebbing to normal breaths.

He dashed down to her. "Lady Amanda!" She was covered in streams of sweat, and she was pale -- oh so pale. He shook her gently by her shoulder, trying to rouse her. The touch of her nearly burned. She is full of fever! Khalin searched through his pack and looked for anything that might help her. How ironic, he mused, as he pulled out a potion of healing that she had given to him only a week ago. He slid his arm under her neck, gently lifting her head so that she could drink. He tilted the potion so it began pouring into her mouth, but quickly stopped when he saw much of it spilling past her lips and down her cheek. This won't work... He wiped the mixture from her face and sat for a moment, trying to find another course of action. Then, finally, the realization — there is nothing I can do.

He pulled a black velvet cape out of his pack, and wrapped her in it. He lifted her up — gods! she was burning! — and began to take her toward Tel'Ruid. There were many there that were more gifted in healing than he, both mundane and arcane. Lady Amanda's best chance of survival lay there.

And the search for Sevanna Naurelea would have to wait...

She felt cold... so cold...

"What happened" she uttered shivering visibly and clutching onto the blanket.

Khalin stopped walking and gently laid her down. She shivered some more trying to hide her discomfort with an uneasy smile. "What were we looking for? Why aren't we looking for Sevanna.." Her teeth chattered violently and her stomach felt as though it was jumping hurtles.

She forced herself upright, feeling the world swimming as she made the movement. She paled visibly, almost dropping flat again to the ground. What's wrong with me? No must focus, Sevanna needs us

"Khalin...? Where are we?" She muttered feeling the nasty after taste of potion on her tongue..
Her mind reeled.... the spell...what was wrong with the spell... how did I get out here....why isn't Sevanna here.... The smells on the wind... what were they...

She looked up to Khalin for answers but found only more questions...

He took another look at Amanda and knew he must do something soon. Perhaps I can delay the inevitable. He began rummaging through his pack, pulling out his spellbook -- its binding looked almost new, he had used it so little. He waved his left hand over the pentagram pressed into the leather cover, moving from right to left. The book, which was bonded to his essence and would follow his spirit even in death, sensed the motion and it opened, following the passing of the hand. At the same time, as per its enchantments, it hovered slightly, moving level with the Drow's chest and angling itself into the perfect viewing position. A spell of healing. One that will not tax my ability. The book's pages, sensing the mental request, furiously turned themselves until the proper spell was displayed before him. He began searching through what limited reagents he carried. Spiders' silk, ginseng... Garlic, where is the garlic? At the bottom of his pack, he found it. It was a small clove, but it should suffice. He paused for a moment, considering the assembled components. Then he looked at Amanda. Nau, a heal spell would make little difference in her worsening state. The spell must be more powerful. The pages began turning again, seeking a stronger spell. Glancing at the results, Khalin took note of the additional reagent requirement. Looking through his pack, he fished out his last mandrake root. I'll not be able to cast an escape spell after this... but I'll not be running off while her safety is still in my hands.

He cleared his mind and focused on the spell. He had never before attempted this particular ritual, and for an instant he considered that it may be beyond his ability. But it was Amanda's best hope. With the reagents held in his right hand and the book hovering under the control of his left, he began to utter the words of power.

"In." As he spoke the word of creation, he released his grasp on the reagents in his right hand. He felt the slightest tug on his soul, and he recognized it as the first trickles of mana -- the primal essence and fuel of all magic -- began to flow out of him. The energy took the form of tiny blue sparks that lifted the components out of his hand and sent them floating. They hovered above the book now, awaiting the infusion of more mana.

"Vas." As Khalin uttered the word of great magic, the slow drops of mana turned into a flood pouring out of him. The reagents floating before him now radiated a bright, blue glow. Infused with nearly sufficient mana, the forces assembling before him awaited instruction.

"Mani." The instant the word for the forces of life and healing was ushered from his lips, the reagents burst into a brilliant, blue flame. They came together, as the spell was fused by Khalin's will. After a moment, each individual component could no longer be seen -- all that remained was an orb of blue flame. He prepared to direct it toward Amanda.

But something was wrong. The flame began to waver, and the Drow concentrated to keep it coherent. But it was too much. Suddenly, the flame seemed starved, and it quickly dwindled to a faint, bluish ember. Khalin felt the mana flowing back into him, as it drained out of the failed spell. Meanwhile, still hovering over the book, the flame had turned a mundane red and finished consuming the last of the merged components. The fire quickly burned itself out, leaving only a fizzling sound and the swirling escape of smoke.

Khalin slumped. Failure. He waved his left hand from left to right, closing the spellbook. Its use completed for now, it floated gently to the floor. The Drow simply stared at it for a few moments before realizing the more pressing problem... Lady Amanda.

"Come Amanda, I must get you to someone who can help."

An eternity passed before they arrived at Tel'Ruid. The hour was late and Khalin could see no lights, save those that always burned from inside the Arrow. Perhaps there are still some that are awake at this hour. The Fae, perhaps? They seem to linger here in the dark hours... He made his way inside, hoping to find some help for his friend.

The chill struck her again and she cringed as if struck...Soo cold... She shivered violently and her head swam.

"Khalin...she lied..." She began knowing for the first time, how short life really was. Focus, Cmon Amanda Focus you have to do this. "She's not what she told us she was Khalin. She's a priestess... a first daughter" She continued in a wavering voice feeling the night air nip at her face as they journeyed through the night. "After you left, she had me send her back to the Underdark."

Khalin stopped for a moment and Amanda could barely see out into the dark of the night. She looked up at Khalin again trying to see where he was looking. Oh no, I can't let it end like this. She squirmed in his arms forcing her way free and dropped gasping to the ground. Her mind whirled, lost to the power of the fever.

Slowly she rose from the ground, her eyes growing dull and dim. Khalin looked at her confused.

He was about to kneel down when he saw her gather all her strength and stand up on her own. Gods! She is a strong woman! But the determination only worried him. "Amanda, do not push yourself. I do not understand the state you are in, but it is harming you. That much is clear." He put out his arm for support — she did not look like she could stay like this for long.

He did his best to put aside the revelation she had just made. Sevanna Naurelea? A priestess? Nau, that was impossible. She had told me, in great detail, the story of her upbringing. She was only half-Drow. And she was raised here, in Sosaria. He could not comprehend her being anything else that who she said she was. But... she had acted strangely that last evening. Apologies were made, with no reason given. And her nervousness when he had mentioned the serpent-headed whips. The pieces fit, and the notion left a bitter taste in his mouth.

But Amanda was his prime concern at the moment. He noticed the confusion in her eyes, searching for her bearings. "I was taking you to Tel'Ruid... the elven glade East of Yew." He waited a moment to see some sign of acknowledgement, but then continued anyway. "I do not know what is ailing you, but I thought it would be best to take you there and find someone who could heal you." As if to prompt her to action, he added, "If you wish, I will contact Lord Michael when we arrive." Again, he waited for some acknowledgement, half expecting her to collapse again.

Then he saw the two of them hobbling into the clearing. The dark elf was limping, but still supporting the tiny frame of Amanda, who looked paler than he could remember.

Azeron rushed over to them. He looked at the dark elf, recognizing him. "Khalin, right? From the Academy?" He didn't wait for an answer. He looked at Amanda. "You look terrible, ma'am." He hoped to get at least a grin from their usual "insulting" exchange. The fact that she didn't made him more worried.

He motioned for the Drow to set her down. "Okay, Amanda... where does it hurt?" He touched her forehead and felt the fever. This is bad. Well, time to put some of that Azeron magic to work. He looked at Amanda, smiling. "Don't worry, short-stuff, I've got just the thing. Besides, I don't want to waste twenty sets of resurrection reagents trying to revive you." He chuckled briefly. "Not like the Terathian Keep."

He pulled out his personal notes, scrawled on pieces of parchment that hadn't made their way into his regular spellbook. Mostly because he wasn't sure if they worked. He looked at the sheer number of them and grinned. Well, this is why I'm never going to be a fabulous mage. I keep wasting my time on developing new spells... He found the ones that he was looking for, and started casting.

Okay. First I need to find out what's wrong with her. So, a spell to divine what is causing her harm. He began to gesture. "Kal Wis Jux." Khalin looked at him, not recognizing the combination. Azeron's mind was filled with knowledge of Amanda's spell. A spell that had tapped something foul.

Then it hit him. He jerked back at the feeling of something cold that made him feel nauseous. Whatever dark energy had been channeled by Amanda was now seeping into him. Oh boy. I don't like this at all. He shuffled through his notes, looking for something else.

"An Ort Nox." He spoke the words that should, if he guessed right, cleanse the poisoning mana from his body. For a moment, his body tingled, and then it was gone. Perfect! It works! He found this experimentation exciting, and if not for his concern for Amanda, he would have been celebrating. "An Ort Nox." He cast his custom spell again, this time sending the energies to Amanda.

"All right, Amanda. You're through the woods. Now let's get that fever under control." He thought for a moment, tempted to cast a Greater Heal spell. Then, he decided against it -- not wanting to lower her temperature so quickly that she would go into shock, and wanting to try yet another new spell.

He cracked his knuckles and sorted through the last of his notes. A-ha! A healing sleep spell should do her a world of good. "In Mani Zu." When he spoke the words, Amanda was bathed in a warm, blue glow. Her breathing returned to normal. And the tension left her muscles.

He turned to the dark elf. "Alright, let's get her inside. She'll be fine in a couple of hours."

Wandering towards the Arrow, he could not help but think of the dark mana that had briefly entered into him, and had incapacitated his guildmate. And he couldn't shake the feeling that, at the edge of the woods, he momentarily felt that chill again.

Silently, he lifted up Amanda once more, the first signs of relief finally coming to his face, and followed Azeron to the Silver Arrow.

As he walked, he pondered the rituals that Azeron had performed. A spell that can divine the origin of foul magic... His mind drifted to the inevitable conclusion.