Greetings! 
     
        Turn three follows.  Some of you will also be receiving 
     confidential supplements.  Sorry for the delay in producing this.  
     Work has been crazy lately.  (This turn was produced in the midst of 
     classified computing runs all day and three separate trips to the 
     Joint Chiefs of Staff.)  I will be gone on a NATO exercise from 20 to 
     29 OCT 94, and realistically, my first day to read e-mail will 
     probably be 31 OCT 94.
     
        We'll determine the next submission date for turns after I get back 
     from this trip to Europe.  [I suspect this one will keep you busy till I 
     get back.  ;-)  ]
     
        Enjoy,
     
        Rich
     
     Turn 3
     ~~~~~~
     
        The party glances at the approaching trolls, the incoming dragon, 
     the descending moon and the broo archer.  Guy mutters ``shit, and all 
     I ever wanted was to inherit my uncle's fortune in Credia and live out 
     my life in peace!  We got rid of the White Ships; this must be some 
     type of nightmare!'' under his breath, but it is loud enough for most 
     of the party to hear.  Vorondil looks solemn as is usual and says 
     ``Well?!?''  Branahm says ``We're sitting ducks here.  Quickly, into 
     the entrance.''  Miriya nods her agreement and adds "We should perform 
     introductions in a safer place--inside the complex, perhaps?"  Balinor 
     dashes forward toward the shadowy doorway and Trak Chi begins chanting 
     a spell in Darktongue.
     
        Several things happen simultaneously.  There is the twang of a 
     bowstring from the direction of the broo on the cliff followed by a 
     loud war whoop and a tremendous crash.  Leoshi's hat thunders and 
     let's off lightning bolts into the air, and a huge wall of darkness 
     appears between the party and the cliff holding the broo.
     
        The party suddenly notices that the chanting from the approaching 
     trolls is growing in intensity, and now, small black tendrils drift 
     from the approaching group toward Yelm himself!  Huvis is the first to 
     notice the Red Moon appearing to roll across the sky this direction.  
     The motion seemed to start as the chanting from the trolls become 
     louder.  Trahk Chi says ``Wow!  Look what I did!!!''  At first Trahk 
     Chi and the party are elated, and then terror sets in as they realize 
     what this portends.
     
        Miriya and Branahm shout ``let's get inside!'' simultaneously.  As 
     Balinor reaches the doorway inside the obelisk, the party hears a loud 
     commanding voice state ``Kaliban Keen-Eye *that's* who!  And who by 
     the wisps of Daka Fal are *you?!?!?!?*''  There is an extremely long 
     series of roars and whistles that apparently come from the approaching 
     dragon.  As Balinor approaches the doorway, those observing notice 
     that the doorway is surrounded by three bands of metal.  Miriya, 
     Balinor and Branahm identify two of the bands as the anti-psionic and 
     anti-magical metals respectively.  The door itself is smooth and flush 
     against the door frame.  There is no visible means of opening it.  The 
     party hesitates momentarily, but a loud crashing noise coming down the 
     side of the crater from the direction of the broo spurns Balinor to 
     action.
     
        As Balinor touches the door a slot appears where he touched his 
     hand.  Leoshi notes that the Book of Infinite Spells has taken on the 
     appearance of a large, metallic, flexible playing card.  Balinor does 
     not wait and hastily inserts the card in the slot.  The door melts 
     away to reveal a dark portal.  The light shining down the corridor 
     does not seem to penetrate the gloom of the passageway.  Miriya, 
     Branahm and Balinor look at each other uncertain of what to do, but 
     Risk already has a flaming flask of oil at the ready which he heaves 
     over the other party members' heads into the waiting abyss.  Miriya's 
     normally pale shade of green turns a livid brown as she wheels around 
     to face Risk and states ``what in the name of five elements did you do 
     that for?''  Miriya's statement is punctuated by the presence of three 
     shuriken in each clenched fist.  Branahm's attention remains focused 
     on the waiting tunnel.  ``Shhhhhh...'' Branahm remarks ``I think I 
     heard something further in.''  Balinor listens for a moment and notes 
     ``it is coming this way.''  ``Sounds like a war spider!'' says 
     Vorondil.  But, Leoshi focuses the party's attention back on the 
     crater outside the pylon.  
     
        Leoshi points and the party turns to see.  At first he appears to 
     be a subtle change in the background they are looking at, but his form 
     takes shape as he gets nearer.  His hood is up, and all the party can 
     see is the dark cloak which covers everything except his feet.  His 
     feet are hidden beneath the dark boots which don't seem to be making 
     any noise. There is a grace in his movement that screams ELF! He stops 
     a few feet away and pulls back the hood.  His white hair looks aflame 
     against the background of his dark form.  His eyes scan you, taking in 
     every detail.  The eyes are dark, brown, and bottomless.  They are set 
     against his tanned face.  His form is only five feet tall with a 
     medium build, but it commands respect.  He bows slightly and 
     introduces himself as Tremir.
     
        Branahm rushes forward to greet his old friend.  A smile warms the elf's 
     appearance and he speaks, ``Branahm, I knew I would find you here.''  
     He steps forward toward Branahm with open arms, revealing well 
     polished Elven Chainmail with large Plant and Fertility Runes across 
     his chest. He continues, ``It is good to see an old friend in such 
     trying times.  May I join you in this one last adventure?''  Another 
     form detaches itself from the nearby shadows.  As Tremir turns, a tear 
     catches in one of the many year worn wrinkles in the side of his 
     leathery face.
     
        ``You always were a sentimental group!''  The voice emanates from a 
     totally hairless half-elf.  In his left eye socket an agate gleams, 
     and he balances a staff of electrum with his right hand.  His form is 
     bent from years of responsibility and endurance, but his voice is 
     strong and sibilant.  ``I am Granth, Runemaster of the Realm of 
     Timeria and Lord of the Place of Magic!''  He eyes each of the party 
     members; the agate seems to shine with its own inner light.  ``Tremir 
     and Branahm I know, and of course I have heard of Balinor and Miriya.  
     Who are the rest of you that dare to tread upon this Holy Place?''  
     Miriya states ``we *must* enter the Control Complex now . . .'', but 
     Miriya's words are cut off by the emergence of another.  This time the 
     arrival issues from within the pylon.
     
        Miriya and Leoshi turn from the party reunion to see a haggard old 
     woman emerge from the smothering darkness of the tunnel.  As she 
     passes swiftly over the threshold, she appears momentarily as a homely 
     young woman dressed in some type of metallic appearing clothing, but 
     her familiar visage returns swiftly.  The door seals behind her.  She 
     is dressed in black and red, and her aspect veritably shimmers in 
     accumulated power of millennia.  ``I'm afraid I cannot let you inside. 
      You see the world must end.  It should have ended long ago, but we 
     were afraid.  Afraid to play God and afraid not to once we started.  
     This is just.  I've lived well beyond my time.  Theon must become 
     Milo, and so it goes.  What do you care anyway?  You don't exist at 
     all; it is a shame still that I must destroy you.''  With that, she 
     raises her hands and begins to chant words of power not heard since 
     the world was new . . . somewhere beyond the doorway in the crater, 
     the party hears the clatter of iron shod hooves approaching.
     
     [Let the games begin!]
     
        Enjoy!
     
        Rich