I slew the Dragon (mostly), but I did not slay the Malakar (mostly)

After we rested and re-equipped, Oleanth's four avatars escorted us back to the Isle of Secrets to the forest just outside the tower entrance. There he/they constructed a conjuration circle and began the ritual to teleport us to the moon.

While we were concentrating (at least those of us with the necessary attention span were), a huge dragon winged out of the sky at top speed and stole away the lead Oleanth. Just as suddenly and without a word, Malakar sprinted off in the same direction at inhuman speed. I identified the dragon as a Tarterian Dragon from a chaotic plane, an apropriate servant for Bascaron, but I couldn't figure out why Malakar was behaving so strangely. The remaining Oleanthkin warned us that if the lead Oleanth were kept captive, they would be unable to complete the ritual, so we set off immediately to follow Malakar's unmistakable trail through the woods. The Oleanthkin sent a powerful servitor with us, a Ghaele Eladrin, to assist.

We hadn't been hustling very long when Malakar's trail suddenly disappeared. As we paused, cautious of a trap, the dragon returned to swoop and breathe a foul gas of despair at us. Of course I shrugged off its suggestion, but Durthen may have been affected, as he seemed to pause to recollect himself and reconsider his approach to this combat. He didn't have to wait long for a clear answer, as the dragon chose to picked him up and hurled him bodily to earth from the zenith of its next swooping pass. Fortunately for us, Durthen bounces well, though perhaps not in the sense his usual boasts intend.

We peppered the force-oriented dragon with ranged attacks (many trusty magic missiles from my staff) while the Ghaele kept us healed. Eventually the dragon came to earth to attack a small grouping of us, and the Shield Guardian dealt the killing tap.

But before the body had ceased twitching, an alternate version of Malakar charged us from the nearby trees. Clad in reddened mithril plate mail, and bearing a toothed falchion in place of his usual greatsword, he hurling a defiantly coarse cry of "Bring it!" at us. Evil Malakar had arrived, and in signature Malakar style he glowed with stacks of divine spells to aid his fell purpose. Since we had no everburning torches with which to sate his hunger, we were forced to fight.

Unlike the dragon, Malakar knew our strengths and weaknesses and deployed his forces and abilities to great tactical effect. He commanded two Mooncalves to surround and harry Borrow with their plethora of tentacles, while he concentrated his efforts on the Ghaele, trying to remove our ability to heal and protect ourselves. He was as difficult to hit as ever, and magically defended too: my scorching rays were deflected astray, and my chain missiles blocked completely. I didn't manage to hit him with my staff either, but that's a surprise to no one. Fortunately Borrow was having better luck with the Mooncalves, dodging tentacle blow after tentacle blow and piercing their most sensitive anatomy with uncanny accuracy -- a reversal of their usual experience with humanoids, I am sure.

Livia proved essential again, stripping Malakar of most of his defences with her incomparable innate dispelling abilities. Even hampered thus, Malakar managed to kill the Ghaele before he was finally brought low by a blow from Durthen. As the killing blow became apparent, we feared that we had lost Malakar permanently, out of the frying pan of Evil and into the fire of Death, as it were. However his form blurred momentarily and Malakar, our Malakar and breathing freely, returned. I hope his possession by Evil has been purged, since we omitted the crucial "looting" phase of his concurrent defeat and rescue.

Now we return to the eldritch ritual of fleimituthamune, flush with success yet knotted with worry about our ally Malakar. We'll need his tactical genius unfettered by moral confusion if we're to face a nigh-immortal Aspect of Bascaron.

I just hope I can get some sleep during the flight.