Ko'Ragur crouched in the darkness and hoped she didn't step on a twig. It would have been somewhat ironic had she been hunting and stalking a deer, but right now she'd only end up dead. The idea played with her imagination and chilled her to the bone like the rain that trickled through her collar, down her neck, and along her spine.

For a brief moment she was too afraid to move. She felt vulnerable and exposed out here and yet she knew quite well that she was safely hidden behind a row of bushes and a sturdy maple. Paralysed and agoraphobic, she stayed hidden in the shadows of the tree.

Beside her she heard the sharp tapping of raindrops steadily dripping into a tin bucket meant for collecting maple sap. She couldn't stand such irritating sounds. With her adrenaline tapped she leapt the wall of bushes and landed silently beside Chev.

The veteran warrior spared her only a glance and saw the white in her eyes. He was beginning to doubt whether or not he should have blackmailed her into this mission. He could have compared this mission to walking into a dragon's maw, and he wondered how far she would go. He could only hope her nerves wouldn't be totally ruined by the time they reached the vault or else the effort would be for nothing.

There was over a hundred yards to the door and there was no cover. A guard pranced nervously beside it in the rain while another two sat near the gate. If the first guard gave a shout...

Licking her already wet lips, Ko'Ragur set a crossbow to her shoulder and lined up the sights with shaking hands. Chev refused to watch as she pulled the trigger and there was an eerie silence.

A solid thud and the guard slumped against the wall with a crossbow bolt in the neck. Long legs bolted and the woman ran across the yard. She seemed impossibly fast to Chev's eyes and yet to her own, those seconds seemed an eternity of being shieldless and vulnerable.

Chev ran after her confidently, trying to ignore his own fears should the guards glance this way. He moved more slowly and avoided slipping on the wet grass. If he slipped and was caught out here...

Working frantically, Ko'Ragur recocked her crossbow and held it upright against her shoulder. Chev cracked the door open, and together, fearless now that they were safe indoors, headed down the corridor.

The sheer number of guards lurking within the Academy walls was testimony to Chev's reputation. By Valeska's estimate however, the sheer number of guards left dead in their wake was a greater reason to fear Chev. As she watched, the warrior never broke stride, never grimaced, never even paused to wipe his blade clean as he strode down the hallways.

"Like watching death incarnate," she muttered in the drow tongue and followed behind in the shadow of the avenging warrior. She wondered if she might actually live through the night. Turning a corner she nearly ran into the warrior and would have impaled herself were it not for Chev's lightning fast reflexes.

Holding her steady, Chev turned back towards the twelve-foot tall bronze doors that was the entrance to the vault. On both doors, just above the keyhole, was a black and white swirling insignia bearing the letters "MD."

The half-drow swallowed and let out a silent prayer to Ao. "That's Marque Draque's Insignia of Protection. A god couldn't even break those doors."

Chev crossed his arms severely. "So? Dispel them."

"Dispel them?!" Valeska nearly shrieked but Chev clamped a hand over her mouth. She tried to calm down and took several deep breaths through her nose. Finally he removed his hand and she took another deep breath. "It can't be dispelled. Draque made some form of magical barrier that not even a dispel can get through. His Insignia of Protection is permanent, utterly impossible to destroy." She turned back to face the symbol in despair. "It is perhaps one of the most powerful spells ever created. Not even a genie wish could get through it. You can't teleport past it. Astral travel is hazardous and you'll come out on the other side with bodyparts and valuable insides missing. Negative energy would cause a rift in reality and we'd be sucked into another dimension. Even the hinges are on the other side of the door. The only thing that might work is..." Her voice trailed off.

"Is what?" prompted Chev.

"Is picking the lock," she sighed and reached for her pouch of lockpicks. "In which case there's probably a dozen mundane and magical traps that I'll have to bypass which will take a long time."

"Time which you'll have," Chev guaranteed her with a sword salute and walked away in perfect confidence.

Valeska watched him go and looked back to the huge bronze doors. "Even if I get past the lock, how do I get the damn heavy doors to open?" She sighed and sat down cross legged in the dim lighting to sort through her picks.

Magical sword in one hand and a short blade taken from a fallen guard, Chev walked down the broad corridor of the west wing. Coming to the foyer the three guards on duty heard his arrival and one moved to the door to sound a bell alarm. The warrior ignored the guard at the bell and advanced on the other two guards.

Not very impressed by Chev's stature, the larger of the two advanced and swung a heavy claymore towards the warrior's head. The huge sword was blocked with both blades and pushed to the side while Chev kicked at the big man's vulnerable groin. The guard fell backwards more in shock than in pain and landed in a heap only to be finished off with a quick jab to the throat.

The other two guards backed themselves into corners out of fear. Chev advanced on one and then the other, killing with the brutal efficiency that was his preference when dealing with such pathetic warriors. Had he been fighting someone like Pierce he would have taken the time to evaluate his opponent but such careful examination of a foe would have been a waste of time on the guards before him. True, he was trying to buy time for Valeska, but there were better ways to keep the guards busy.

The bronze doors leading outside started to push open under the weight of more guards coming to join the fight. Chev looked about and dodged through a draped archway that held the staircase leading to the second floor. As he ran he took his time to make sure they heard his ascent.

"Up the stairs!" came the shouts from below as guards surged after the lone warrior.

Had Chev known a bit more about Doctor Pierce's history he would have known that Pierce had been cursed with the much exaggerated story of how he had killed the famed Tarrasque, a beast so large and vicious it made dragons tremble in fear. After the legendary battle, Pierce skeptics had hunted him down and challenged him. After several months of duel after duel, the Doctor's title was considered confirmed as he was unbeatable in single combat. Now that Chev was Pierce's superior, the thought of becoming the best of the best and the fringe benefits that came with it was such that the guards below were scrambling over each other to get at him.

The fighter waiting at the top had a vague idea that the commotion below was becoming a contest of sorts, but thought it ironic that they were scrambling to be the first to die. Bravery was one of Chev's strong points, but he was far from being stupid or foolish. He had no doubts that had he been physically weaker that he could still best any opponent set before him. Sure, in the example of Pierce, it would take some time and a good deal of ingenuity, but he was up to any challenge.

The first guard to reach the top however was not and after being stabbed by four twisted swings he fell backwards onto his comrades. The next warrior pushed himself past his dying comrade only to realise that the corridor constricted his movement in a fashion that he couldn't dodge much and couldn't get a decent swing whereas Chev was out in the open and could do as he pleased. It was with a fair amount of respect in his eyes that this man fell in the doorway wounded.

The next guard charged forward to discover the same mistake only too late, but at least he had bought the ground needed for the following guards to surge out of the doorway.

Pierce rolled over in his canopy bed and pulled a pillow over his ears. "What's all the damn racket for?" he muttered, only half-awake. A draft from his door opening caused him to look up with bleery eyes and be blinded by a figure with a lantern.

Correction, make that Marque Draque and that annoying fire faerie Pierce's foresight predicted and he started to get a vague idea of what was wrong.

"Get up!" shouted Draque, shooing the faerie away with a hand. "Chev's on a rampage! This may be a chance to stop him if we can contain him until more Harpers get here!" The elf ran back out through the door with the faerie in flying pursuit.

Pierce sat up in his bed and looked at his bed head in the mirror on the wall opposite the door. "Couldn't Chev have at least waited until I've combed my hair?" he grumbled and crawled into his armour.

Dropping the short sword, Chev favoured the bull whip at his belt as he backed down the hallway, fending off six warriors at a time. With a little sleight of wrist he lashed the whip around a man's neck and pulled him forward to be impaled on Chev's thrusting sword. Loosening the whip, the warrior fended off more swings while preparing the whip for another deadly lash.

When it came Chev went for a leg, and the man screamed as he was pulled forward and killed with a clean thrust. A guard off the side charged forward in the same moment, seeking a chance to flank the warrior. He was met with a kick to the face which was quickly followed up with a slash to the throat.

A charismatic guard near the stairwell was trying to rally the men to charge and overwhelm the warrior, but was not getting much support after Chev's display of battle prowess. Pushing through the ranks, the self-proclaimed leader shouted for the men to backoff so that he could take on Chev one on one. They did so with cautious looks at Chev.

Chev smiled at the advancing warrior and made pretense of raising his blade in defense. He could see the sweat on the man's brow and the white knuckles on his hands. His eyes flickered and he opened his mouth to order his men to charge. A blur of steel later and Chev slid his sword tip out of the leader's gaping mouth and wiped the gore on the man's cheeks with a quick one-two slap.

The guard fell down face first on the ground and for a moment the only sounds in the corridor were the groans of those lucky enough to have only been crippled. The warrior backed away from the stunned guards and slapped his sword against his buttocks as he taunted them.

The guards in the rear of the group suddenly decided that it was their turn to go for help. The guards closest to Chev glanced at each other nervously, each wanting someone else to make the first move and die. Someone in the rear coughed loudly.

Toril's greatest warrior stood before the cowering guards and pawed the ground with the toe of his boot. "Next?" he asked with a wry smile.

"I'll take that challenge," said a calm voice from behind Chev. The warrior glanced over his shoulder and down the poorly lit corridor. Into the light strode a tall, broad figure dressed in tell-tale bronze armour.

"Good to see there's actually someone around here still worth fighting," Chev replied and put his back against the wall so he could keep one eye on the guards and another on Doctor Pierce. He looped his whip and tied it with one hand to his belt. Stooping, he picked up the dropped short sword and held it upside-down like an assassin. "Shall we test your mettle one more?"

"How about we test just how much that magical buckler aided you?" Pierce responded, drawing his sabers and rapping them together. The sound echoed down the hallway towards the dome.

"I'm afraid you'll find that my leather is also magical and stronger than steel. I've known men who have broken their hands trying to punch it. Are you so certain your fancy blades will make much difference?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" Pierce grinned and stopped three yards from Chev.

The warrior stepped away from the wall, blades at ready. "What are you waiting for?"

Pierce smiled and continued to delve past the blur of Chev's confusing thoughts. There had to be a reason why the warrior had come... "The vault!" he blurted out loud.

Chev's eyes went wide for only a moment and then he became a flash of muscle and steel as he charged Pierce's blades and the two were locked into battle. Steel flashed in the dim light as the two warriors danced between their blades and their weapons bounced harmlessly off each other. Chev's understanding of Pierce's ability had come to full and he was actively shutting Pierce out of his mind through sheer stubbornness.

"Get to the vault!" Pierce shouted above the clash of blades as he backed his way towards the dome. Under the onslaught of Chev's fury, the veteran decided his best chance at survival would be to lead the warrior into the dome where the open area and better lighting would make it easier when help finally arrived.

Chev wasn't about to be lead about so easily however and he waited until the guards had left the corridor before dodging past Pierce and running towards the dome. Pierce's thrown saber nearly tripped him but he kept going. Through the wide archway, he vaulted the stone balcony, knowing full well that Pierce in his heavy armour wouldn't be able to follow so quickly.

Landing on the wooden pews below, he ran across them to the bronze doors leading to the south wing. Jumping off the last pew he barrelled his two hundred pounds of muscle into the door with his shoulder and broke the hinges off it. Landing in a dusty heap, Chev hoped he was moving fast enough.

Rolling to his feet and running past a side corridor, he heard the sound of running guards and knew he had plenty of time. Perhaps the only question left in his mind was whether he had given Valeska enough time.

Rounding a corner, Chev nearly tripped over the crouched bard. "We don't have much time left! How much more time do you need?"

Wide-eyed Valeska looked around as if for the first time in years. "There's just one trap left, but if I spring it I'll likely get poisoned-"

Chev pushed her out of the way and kneeled down to take a quick look inside the lock. "Is it that U-shaped piece to the left?"

Rubbing her bruised side and tempted to kick Chev in the head, Valeska growled, "Yes, but that will take-"

Chev shoved his little finger into the keyhole and pushed the U-shaped mechanism. He heard a sharp thunk sound and a poisoned needle bounced harmlessly off his leather gloves.

Standing, Valeska took care to close her gawking mouth as Chev removed his unharmed gloves and watched as the warrior kissed his little finger in thanks. With an air of extravagance, she threw aside her lock picks and put her shoulder to work as the two pushed the extra thick bronze doors open.

Only a large crack was needed and Chev forced his shoulder through to stand within the vault. Valeska followed, bumping into the warrior. Unsheathing his sword so it shed some blue-white light, the warrior glanced at her and back to mounds of coins before them.

The drow bard took a deep breath and was tempted to do a quick dance on the coins were she not so afraid for her life. Looking around the vault she saw that it was at least twenty yards wide and twice that as long. The floor was sloped so the majority of coins and wealth were at the opposite end. Penetrating the darkness with her infravision, the half-drow ran forward and started scooping up gems into a magical pocket.

Chev surveyed the room quickly, swinging his magical sword back and forth so that he could see more. Finally he saw what he was looking for and knelt to pick up a lightweight cutlass. The weapon was made of simple etched silver, or was it platinum? Chev couldn't tell for certain in the dim light. Drawing it from the sheath, the warrior was happy to see that this one also shed light, albeit an emerald green light.

The empty sheath landed with a clunk and the warrior looked down at a finely crafted dwarven crossbow. Hooking it with his toe, he tossed it into the air towards Valeska. "Here we part Ko'Ragur!"

The bard looked up and had to drop the baubles in order to catch the crossbow. For a moment she was awestruck by its craftsmanship but the moment passed and she looked up to say thanks.

Chev was gone and she could hear heavy boots coming down the hallway.

"Time for a teleport spell," she murmured, hoping that since the doors were open that they would no longer interfere with the spell. She closed her eyes and wondered where to go. Old Betsy's Tavern, Valeska's booth. She just hoped there was no one already sitting in it. Speaking the words, the bard ignored the strange feeling like she was floating in syrup and reopened them to the strong smells of a tavern.

"Well, gods bless me fat cheeks! Girl, what in tarnation are you doing popping up like that and startling me!"

Valeska looked at the table before her with a smile and back up elderly woman. "I was in a hurry for some of your cooking of course!" she said quickly as she set the crossbow down on the seat beside her. "Bring me some hot cider and don't let anybody sit down across from me. I've had problems enough with men lately."

"Okay," the old woman shrugged and hurried off to warm some cider.

Valeska breathed out a sigh of relief and hoped that was the last of her adventures for awhile. Or at very least the last time she'd see Chev.