Grishkar's raven-sight grants him a glimpse of another deserter making their way to the gate. Without hesitating, the elf raises his hand, forms a few gestures, and calls out with the armored deserter's voice, "False alarm! Just some farmers that didn't want to pay!"
A heartbeat passes...
I'll remember that for next time!
Grishkar can scarcely make out the reply of a male voice, "Sounds good, Thomas! Make sure to keep the bodies for Drastin."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
His ally laid dead on the floor, a crossbow bolt buried through his neck and lodged in his spine, and yet his voice cried out, saying all was well? He looked around confused, oblivious to some of the figures hiding in the trees. Rose's vicious mockery tore at his brain, dredging unwanted memories. He dropped his sword, running as fast as he could back to the encampment, yelling, "Kronk! Pull the lever!" [Disengage, moved to D5]
The other deserter, seeing his friend flee so suddenly, took a desperate jab at Rivvil before turning to run back too. The shortsword grazed Rivvil's ribs, leaving a superficial wound. [21 to-hit, 3 piercing damage; moved to F4] Seizing on the opportunity, Rivvil let fly his flaming whip like a demonic monster from another universe, but the attack lashed out just behind the deserter's ankle, almost dragging him down to that black abyss of death [9 to-hit, miss].
“Veldyn knock out the other one we need the information.” Rivvil says as he moves up to D5 and strikes out at D3 with his flaming whip landing a nasty slash on him.
//To Hit: 21 For: 3 Fire Damage and 6 Slashing Damage//
At Rivvil's suggestion, Veldyn launches himself forward. Feinting with his blade, he's able to get close enough to land a hard pommel strike into the bandit's skull (F4). The bandit falls to the ground like a bag of rocks (20 to hit, 9 damage).
Grishkar's raven sounds an alarm from the pallisade and glides to the gate the deserters emerged from. Grishkar mutters a prayer to the God of Strife and channels power through his familiar. When the next one opens the gate, Grishkar will loose his pet and hopefully gain access to the inner camp.
(Readied Inflict Wounds for when the next deserter comes within view through the gate.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
“Your face looks like someone sat on it!” Rose called out to the one feeling, watching him fall to the ground with glee. “Yeah, sticks and stones can break your bones, but Rosie’s words dropped ya!”
Grishkar's raven caws out several times as the deserters on the near-side of the barricade drop. Amidst the pouring rain, biting cold, and blackened skies, a horn sounds clear, piercing through the ambient noises. A few seconds pass, and the group hears a voice call out from the far side of the barricade. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, yeah? How about we put down our weapons and talk this one out." The other side of the barricade soon goes dark as plumages of smoke rise into the wet air, marking the extinguishment of campfires.
Upon hearing the voice call out, Natah ran back to the still burning lantern, and snuffed out the flame, leaving them all in darkness. Then she ran forward, and found a tree near the barricade. Climbing up, she positioned herself where she'd be able to shoot any enemies that made themselves known.
Grishkar whispers a prayer to Cyric, Lord of Shadows and Intrigue, to grant him passage unseen. He passes through the brush reasonably well since everyone is distracted in darkness and negotiations. Moving around the left side of the barricade, he hopes to spy exactly what they're up against.
The underbrush is thick as Grishkar moves. The crunching of leaves is masked by the fall of rain, granting him silent passage through the darkness.
That is, until his foot catches a tripwire and a bell starts ringing from the side of the camp he's trying to approach. He spots four deserters, three of them in black leathers and light crossbows, with the fourth wearing heavier armor and a heavy crossbow. Two are positioned against the barricade while the others are positioned near the tents. They're eyes all flash towards Grishkar's side of the camp, scanning to blackness for any movement.
Veldyn pulls the unconscious man up, sword on his throat. “Who speaks for the deserters?” He calls out. “We will run this camp to the ground if you continue to impede our journey.” The man's eyes lull a bit as he slowly begins to wake up (1 point healing to him, 6 to myself). Veldyn's eyes dart around the battlefield as his senses heighten (Divine Sense).
Rivvil, not wanting to ruin Veldyns attempt at diplomacy nor give away his friends location, gingerly steps forward to G6. His hands in the air while he does so, but not letting go of his whip says, “We mean no harm. I’m sure we can talk this out.” Meanwhile his whip hand is ready to strike out at the first enemy within reach that attempts to harm any of his allies.
Rose and Chewie snuck around the sides, keeping to the shadows.
The deserter cursed silently to himself as the lantern's light went out, casting the whole battlefield in darkness. A deep voice with a northern accent, the heavily-armored figure's, rose out from the darkness, "I speak for New Luskan. Leave now and I'll stay my undead silently waiting in the forest to come down on your position."
Grishkar and Natah can make out the movement within the darkened camp. One of the deserters heads east, moving into the forest and out of the sight. The heavily-armored deserter had his heavy crossbow trained at the barricade, whereas the remaining two aim their light crossbows to their west flank.
"Even now I feel the presence of undead, and the only presence I feel is my own necromancer's," Veldyn replies with a smirk. It's hard to make the figures out in the darkness, but he's sure his companions are gaining positions on them. His grip tightens on the bandit, his shield and arm pushed hard in his chest. "Nothing short of you all leaving will assure you will never rise as our agents of death. If you intend to stay," Veldyn drags the man forward to get closer to the barricade, one slow step at a time, "your corpses will be added to our armies." (11 on Intimidation)
“Why don’t I show you some of the undead we already have under our control.” Rivvil says before he starts chanting the arcane words, which he hopes they don’t understand Undercommon, to the only spell he knows ending it clearly in common with “Come forth my will-o-wisp.” And with that, a glowing orb of dim light appears about 15 feet in the sky above the deserters head. They look up at the glowing orb, one with fear, the rest with confusion. "I ain't never heard of a willing-of-the-mist before," one of the guards mentioned.
Grishkar crouches low then waves a few signs in the dark. As he speaks his voice resonates from behind the deserters' extinguished fires, "Throw your weapons to the side and eat the dirt! We've got a dozen bows trained on you for each you hold. Make a move and we'll give you all new holes to breathe through." [minor illusion]
Natah watched as one of the deserters moved closer toward Grishkar. No you don't, she thinks to herself. She notched an arrow and sent it flying into the back of her enemy. Don't go that way, she thinks. The danger is in this direction. [21 to-hit, 9 piercing damage]
Grishkar's illusory voice, coupled with Natah's crossbow bolt, sent the deserter who'd been shot charging into the forest, fleeing in terror. The deserter captain, wide-eyed, shouted, "Stand your ground you scurvy dogs! It's all a ruse!" [16 on Investigation vs. Grishkar's minor illusion] Still, Natah could make out the sounds of movement headed east and away from the battle, probably the deserter who'd snuck off into the forest just moments before, no longer trying to be stealthy. The second deserter held his ground, his crossbow trained on the west flank, though fear filled his darkened eyes as his head pivoted all around him, searching for anything in the blackness.
Rose opened the chest with a click of her thieves’ tools, going on her tiptoes to open it. “Wait a minute, Chewie, this isn’t gold,” one side of her mouth began to quirk up into a bit of a smile. The pup let out a low bark, which solicited an eye roll from the pretty gnome. “Well, sweetheart, what got you locked in a chest?”
As the chest lid swings open, a dwarven woman with a swarthy complexion and dark hair sits bolt upright and lunges with both hands at the gnome. Broken manacles dangle from her wrists. She stops just short of actually making a grab at Rose, and her gaze darts around her. "Yer not one a them," she states in a low, earthy voice.
“No I’m not,” Rose smiled, extending a hand toward the dwarf. “And which them are you a part of?”
The dwarven woman lowers the hands she was going to grab at the gnome with and instead grasps the sides of the chest in preparation for hauling herself out of it. She pauses and narrows her eyes at the gnome. "Who wants to know?" she asks, with a thick dwarven accent. She glances around the tent interior (with her darkvision) and squints as she attempts to look out any open doorway as well. "An' where the feck are we?"
“Rosiniana, pleasure to meet you,” Rosie replied. “And we’re in the middle of a battle. Well, we’re in a tent, that’s in the middle of a camp, that’s in the middle of a battle.”
All of a sudden everyone hears a voice say “**** all this talking.” Some of you recognize this as Rivvil’s voice. Who suddenly charges forward and attempts to leap over the barricade that is as tall as him. While Rivvil has darkvision, the rain must've gotten into his eyes because he misjudges the distance to the barricade and when he should jump. Rivvil jump too early and slam into the barricade, falling onto the muddy ground prone as the rain pours onto his face.
Veldyn squeezes his grip on his captive tighter and pushes his longsword against the man's neck to draw blood. "Scream for your companions to drop their weapons or your corpse will be added to your friends." (Held action, attacking captive if weapons are not visibly dropped by the deserters, advancing to the barricade more, if needed)
Natah then tries to shoot at the man at the barricade, but the rain pushed a branch in her way at the last moment, and the arrow went flying in the wrong direction.
The armored crossbowman was obviously the leader and would know more than the others. Standing finally, Grishkar's hands work in an elementary, but powerful pattern. By his command, three glowing darts release from his hands and pierce the last of the lightly-armored deserters. (Magic Missile for a total of 10 damage.)
The blackness eats away at the two remaining deserter's courage and valor as crossbow bolts and-now-magical bolts of arcane power sail through the air, striking them as easily as if the sun hung high in the sky. The leather-clad deserter breaks first, as Grishkar's magic missiles send him into a full panic. He gasps for air as the arcane energy slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and breaking at least one rib. Stumbling through the darkness, he turns and blindly flees away from everything, clipping the deserter captain and crashing into the mud [moves to H4; prone]. The deserter captain, realizing defeat, grits his teeth and curses to himself, his mind racing with options. "You're a frakking dolt for going out there in the first place," the captain shouts out against the black sky and pouring rain to Veldyn's hostage, dropping his crossbow and loosening the beltloop for his scabbard, causing both to drop into the mud. "Kill these worthless scum, grant me safety, and I'll tell you what you want to know."
Veldyn nods to Rivvil, his own captive still in a death-grip. "Lets tie them up," he says, "And see what we've got here."
Rivvil gets up off the ground and climbs onto the barricade looking at the surrendered captain. “He doesn’t seem to be lying or like he’s planning a trick. I say we take him. This fun night might just get better for me.” He says with a smile. Veldyn shoves his captive hard against the barricade whilst sheathing his sword and pulling the slack from his rope. Quickly, he ties the man's arms, drops him, them hogties the legs. Satisfied, he looks over to Rivvil to check his progress. Rivvil will climb down from the barricade and begin tying the captains hands behind his back.
"Can ye send one of the lights over here?" Veldyn asks, walking back to his purse.
Rivvil creates three more lights and send one with Veldyn. “You guys can come out now.” He also calls before looking at the weapons the captain dropped as well as checking him for any valuable.
After gathering what he could of his gold, Veldyn drags the captive back towards the tents. "We can't stay long. Take what you can and lets destroy the rest." He looks over to Rose and her new 'friend' with a questioning look.
While the last of the fight is dying down outside, the dwarven woman blinks at Rose's still-extended hand and grunts. "Lenore," the woman says, giving Rose's hand a brusque shake. Lenore then clambers out of the chest and makes her way across the tent, where she's spotted her gear tossed into the corner. She's snatching up her shield and warhammer, one in each hand, grumbling angrily to herself, when Veldyn enters the tent with his captive.
Slowly, Natah climbed out of the tree she had been hiding in. Now that battle was over, her body remembered just how cold she was, and began to shiver violently again. Finally, she entered the camp and sadly eyed the now cold campfire. Ssso much for warmth, she grumbled as she entered the other tent.
"They stuffed you in a box?" He asks, looking from the dwarf to the box she crawled out of. He then glares down at the captive he has before lifting him and dropping him into the chest. "I'll be back with the captain," he adds, leaving the tent to snatch up Rivvil's captive.
“Damnit, I’m still the shortest,” Rose swore in gnommish. “You know, I had high hopes for you.” She quickly switched back to common “So, what did you do to get stuffed in a box?” The bard asked.
Veldyn retrieves the captain and walks him over to the tent. Upon entering, he deposits him on the ground with a kick to the back of the knee. "What is your purpose out here? Who do you work for? And who is this?" He asks, pointing to the dwarf. Veldyn closes the chest with the second captive and leans atop is nonchalantly, waiting for the captain to give his answers.
Lenore utters a few more hearty dwarven curses. But she gives Veldyn a long look up and down as he gives his captive her former place of honor. After a second, she nods in reluctant approval. Switching to common, she scowls daggers at the captain. "Let's ask him," Lenore replies to Rose. She hefts her hammer as she adds, "Nicely or not nicely. Either way works for me."
He growls and spits on the ground. "Some runaway. Mercer, our leader, ordered us to capture her before she escaped. Thankfully, she was dumb enough to use the roads, so setting up an ambush ahead was easy." He turns his head back and down, trying to address the figure behind him. "This is the border. We monitor incoming traffic and don't let anything through. Easier to keep Noltengarde quiet and dark that way."
"So you're blocking traffic to Noltengarde," Veldyn muses. "To what end?" He glances over at the dwarf for a moment, wondering what she was doing out here in the first place.
He shrugs with hands bound. "Not sure entirely. Probably to keep word from spreading that Noltengarde was taken by us."
Veldyn nods at the news, looking over to Rose with a glance. "Who commands the occupation?" he asks. "And by who I need more than a name. Tell me of him."
Rivvil has been standing there looking at the captain just to make sure he isn’t lying to our face.
When the captain calls her "dumb," Lenore's face darkens. She grips her hammer more tightly and leans forward. "I can vouch that they've taken Noltengarde," she says. "The rest of my... adventuring companions are being held there. When they caught up to me, Mercer was the name they said they were taking me to."
"You call yourselves agents of New Luskan," Veldyn adds. "What pirate king do you serve?"
He shakes his head, growling at the phrase. "I don't know and I don't care," he spat out. "Mercer's Luskan, but as far as I know, the rest of us are Neverwintans fed up with the war. Deserting is treason, but we were done fighting, so we ran rather than face the noose or axe. All I know is he's got agents within the Neverwinter militia that'll get you here if you've got the coin and ask the right questions."
Veldyn stands from the chest. "So nothing more than brigands choosing one leader over another," he says. "Tell me about your necromancer. We saw his work not far from here."
"Just soldiers looking for respite, carving out a place for ourselves in an unforgiving world," he counters before his face pales slightly and he shudders. "The black dwarf. Orm-a-somethin'. He's Luskan too, and far worse than Mercer. Mercer... you can talk to Mercer. He'll engage with you. The black dwarf keeps to the shadows, creeping around at night, and locks himself behind his undead underneath our keep."
Upon entering the other tent, Natah found herself looking at the face of a dead man, laying on a cot. His face was a mask of blood, and his body was littered with long, deep gashes. Seeing that he was wearing a Neverwinter tabbard, Natah began to formulate an idea. She removed the tabard from the body, and stuck her head into the other tent, getting Veldyn's attention. "Take the tabbardsss. We can ussse them." She pulled the cloak around her tightly, her eyes pleading with him. "We need to ressst, get dry and warm."
“A back dwarf that keeps to the shadow.” Rivvil says as he takes the captains shield for his own. “Does the sunlight hurt his eyes?” Rivvil asks putting some pieces together in his head.
Veldyn nods to Natah. "We're just about done here," He says, returning his attention to the captain. "The group back there had the markings of Hannock militia. One body was missing, that of Sir Toldine's son. What do you know of his whereabouts?" Veldyn asks.
The captain shrugs. "Don't know. The dwarf hardly acknowledges us, and it's smarter to keep our distance. Anyone who can cause the dead to walk again should be a concern."
Natah nodded back, and turned to leave, spotting the female dwarf. Confused, she gave the dwarf a nod, then said, "I'll be in the other tent, trying to warm up." Giving the dwarf another look, she finally turned and left, heading back to the other tent, where it was less crowded, and much dryer.
"Don't know anything about anyone's son but... there was a skirmish a few weeks back with some soldiers. The dwarf was visiting this area for some reason and took care of them. He decided to keep one or two alive for some reason... May Ilmater have mercy on their souls... if they still have 'em."
"You've been helpful," Veldyn says. "Whether or not you've told us the whole truth, I'm not sure it's enough to spare your life. Do you have anything else to add?" He asks, resting his hand on his sword's hilt.
His eyes widen slightly. "Look... I've got no loyalities... to anything really. I'm jus trying to survive. I'm dead or worse if I return to Mercer so..." He thinks for a moment before adding, "Give me some charcoal and hide. I'll draw a map to the keep so you can meet Mercer himself."
Veldyn calls out outside. "Grishkar! Give us a hand, will you?" He looks the captain up and down before adding, "You've yet to meet Grishkar... I imagine he could be as terrifying as your dwarf friend. But I'm sure he's got parchment."
“Why don’t you tell us more about the keep? It’s defenses, where things are kept, you know stuff like that. Maybe that’ll be enough to allow you to keep your life.” Rivvil says.
A pair of hands is thrown onto the tent. The work is clumsy, the result of hands unaccustomed to the tools at hand. Behind them enters a bloodstained elf in a black robe and deep hood. A strange blackness covers the opening of the hood, obscuring his face. He squats before the captain, face-to-abyssal-darkness, and produces a sheet of parchment from his sleeve along with a large ink vial. Strangely, the vial is slick and sticky; perhaps there was a leak in the seal? The ink is difficult to discern in the dim light, but it is a lighter shade than typical scribe's ink. "Let's begin with this." He mutters, his voice dripping with unspoken bargains, unfulfilled promises, and broken contracts.
As other individuals gradually filter in and out of the tent and the questioning continues, Lenore watches and listens with narrowed eyes. She studies each figure as best she can under the circumstances. After a few seconds of silence following Grishkar's dramatic entrance, she chuckles. "Well. Safe to say ye ain't no sunshine brigade of do-gooders." Oddly, this seems to put Lenore at ease, as she returns her shield to her back and her Warhammer to her belt. Turning to the plain leather pack on the ground which is evidently also hers, she fishes around for her waterskin.
"We have our moments," Veldyn replies. "Care to tell your story?" He asks the dwarf. "What your group was doing out here, to start, and how exactly you ended up getting on this... Mercer's short list."
Lenore takes a long slug from her waterskin. When she speaks again, her voice is a little less gravelly. But only a little. She considers Veldyn for a long moment, has another quick glance at everyone else in the tent, and grunts. "I suppose you've heard of the Zhentarim?" The way she asks and the little lift of her eyebrows indicate she's asking a question inside the spoken question.
Veldyn nods. "You're free to join us, sister," he says simply. "Might you know the whereabouts of Aliss Fafstern? She's a young, female human with auburn-brown hair and greyish-green eyes. A single prominent, dark freckle dots the upper-crest of her nose, easily distinguishing her." He points at his nose as if detailing the location. "She's failed to check in."
“We’re part of the Zhentarim as well. We’re here on a mission. Are you also here on a mission?” Rivvil pipes up to the dwarf.
Veldyn glances at Rose, "Plus one." He says. "But she's earned her place, and then some..." After a moment of silence as the captain continues drawing his map, Veldyn says, "It takes a stupid man to make enemies out of the Zhentarim. I feel like we need to send a message to Mercer." Rose waves at the mention of herself.
Lenore glances toward Rose and almost smiles belatedly notices Chewie and does a double take, and finally returns her attention to Rivvil and Veldyn. After a ponderous moment of deliberation, she shakes her head. "No information on Aliss Fafstern here. Weren't with us. These arseholes took out two of mine..." She glances toward Veldyn. "...two of ours. Third declined to join us in escaping. Maybe that he's dead now, too."
"Four of us were assigned to Noltengarde. About the same as you, I suppose. A little bit of a shakeup in the town government shortly before we got there, unfortunately." Lenore says.
The captain's face pales even further as he stares into the abyssal darkness. Shakily grabbing the sheet of parchment and quill, he dips the quill in the strange ink and begins drawing a crude map of their current location versus Noltengarde versus Mercer's Keep. Markers indicate several prominent landmarks in between Noltengarde and the keep with a dotted line connecting them all. After a few minutes, he finishes. Presenting the map to Grishkar, averting his eyes from the necromancer's person. "Here it is. The keep is built atop a hill consisting of three cliffs. A winding path wraps around until you reach it."
“Now will you be a good boy and tell us about the keep's defenses. How many? Arrow slits? Traps? I know you know something.” Rivvil adds with a smile.
He's silent for a moment; his face set in stone. "WIll you let me go tonight and promise no harm will come to me by any of you?" he asks. "If yes, then I'll tell you."
Listening to the ongoing interrogation, Lenore takes another long slug from her waterskin. Then she turns away and spends a few moments wiping her maltreated warhammer clean, muttering a quiet prayer in dwarven as she works.
Veldyn closes his eyes for a moment. You had to make demands... didn't you? He nods over to Rivvil and exits the tent, leaving the captain with Grishkar and the half-drow.
Outside The Tent
“Vel,” Rose follows the human out of the tent. “Listen, I really don’t want to go to Noltengarde proper.”
Vel looks down at Rose. "Want to tell me why?" He asks, the rain drenching the two of them as they talk outside.
“Remember when we first met?” Rose looked at the ground sheepishly. “I have a funny feeling Chewie and I are going to be on a lot of wanted posters.”
"From the sounds of it, Noltengarde is supporting these brigands. We have no reason to go there... our eyes are set on the Fort, but afterwards, we may need to stop there to snag the Dwarf's contact." Veldyn thinks a moment, "By that time we'd have cut the head off of the snake, and our demands will be met. You should have no problem there."
“You’re talking about fighting Mercer, who is such small change compared to the person I’ve pissed off that I’ve never even heard of him,” Rose said skeptically. “I’m fine going to the fort, I just... wanted to warn you ahead of time.”
Veldyn nods. "We'll have to learn more. If the dwarf woman you saved came from Noltengarde, she might be able to tell us more about the 'change of management' that took place." Veldyn looks at the barricade that blocks the road. "I'm going to move these..."
“Would you like some help?” Rose asked.
"I would," Veldyn responds with a grin.
“Great, because I am the best at heavy lifting,” Rose winked.
”Do you hear the captain scream? Singing the song of Zhent torture? It is the music of deserters Who will not cause harm again! When the beating of his heart Slows to a kind of silent stop We will know where we need to start And the men will drop!Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade Is there a world you long to see?” Rose sang softly.
Inside The Tent
“Oh, what a dumb man. Let me tell you how this works. You answer the questions we ask truthfully, believe me, I’ll know if you’re lying, then because you’re kind of cute you spend a night maybe more with me and if you’re good then we’ll see what happens from there. If you’re boring then Grishkar can get you. Of course, if you’re just going to make demands then I guess there’s not even a chance for you to live.” Rivvil explains to the man.
The captain looks up to Rivvil confused. It takes him a moment, but then he sees it. The wild-eyes as Rivvil looked him over. He shuddered and then let out a sigh. "So... that's how this is going to be then?"
Grishkar waves a hand over his illusionary mask, causing it to fade, "You can always tell us what we need. The only difference between conversation and interrogation is the number of things done to someone."
“Yeah pretty much. Like I said don’t bore me and we’ll see how long you live. Don’t worry this won’t be forever. I have my eyes on a greater prize but you’re a fine substitute, for now, that may get to live.” Rivvil says with a grin and the quickest of glance out the tent.
He shudders and casts his eyes down. "I'll give you one night to do whatever you wish with me. But more than that and I'd rather hang myself," he says with a defeated voice.
Rivvil sighs before saying “He’s not going to talk. And I’m not interested in a disinterested partner. He’s all your to do as you wish Grishkar.” Rivvil says as he exits the tent.
Grishkar beams his wide, unnatural smile at the captive captain and takes a seat nearby, "Now that we're in a more intimate setting, I'd like to talk business. You've heard of the Zhentarim, yes? Well, congratulations, you've tasted our power. However, you can serve as a messenger in more ways than a corpse on the road. Interested?"
The captain groans, but spits at the ground. As Grishkar towers over the kneeling figure, he spots the quick and deft work of a tiny knife in his hands viciously cutting through the ropes.
Back Outside The Tent
As Veldyn is pulling the barricades aside with the help of the mighty Rose, he sees Rivvil exit the tent. "Done already?" He asks. "Get em talking?"
“No. He wouldn’t budge so I’ve left him with Grishkar. Maybe he'll get something out of it. So, what are we doing for shelter tonight.” Rivvil says seeing the two dismantling the barricade and he decided to help them so it goes by a little faster.
As time stretches on, Natah wraps the cloak around her, and curls up on the floor of the tent, not wishing to touch the dead body. Laying there, shivering in the dark, she finally fell asleep, listening to the sounds of raindrops on the roof of the tent.
"Wait... does he know there's a second person in the chest in that tent?" Veldyn asks.
"I don't know. Probably not. Maybe he'll be more talkative after he hears what happened to his captain." Rivvil says.
Grishkar noticed the knife before it was too late, grabbing his staff and barking an arcane command. With a flourish of his hand and staff, a brilliant flash of color sprung forth and blinded the captain. He turned and left yelling, "What a shame! Rivvil! Veldyn! He could've had everything, but he chose death. Time to play!"
Upon hearing the commotion behind her, Lenore turned and took in what had happened while she wasn't looking. She shook her head, sighed, and bent to retrieve the errant knife from the captain or wherever he dropped it. Addressing the captain with her very dwarven pragmatic voice, she said, "Well, that was stupid, wasn't it?"
Once he saw reinforcements were on the way, Grishkar re-entered the tent, "Yes, yes it was," he drew his own dagger and placed the point on the captain's shoulder, in line to drive straight to the heart. "Let's try this again: We are the Zhentarim, and we are here on business to Noltergarde. You have proven a level of competence, so I'm willing to discuss opportunities for empowerment. Maybe you'll even get to join the family?"
Grishkar then turned to Lenore and Rosie, "Please open the chest, but keep the...contents under guard." Back to the captain, he demanded, "Now, about this dwarf necromancer: let's have some details. You say you know nothing about him, but I know details are sometimes found without knowing. Tell me of the times you encountered him. Where, when, who was there, what did he do, did he have any minions, where does he reside...?"
While the fear of death kept him on the ground, the potential promise of life got him to respond. The sobbing died down after a few moments, giving him breath to respond. "I... I've met him a few times. Always at night or during a storm. The only person I ever see him with is Mercer. He doesn't speak to anyone else, and anyone who presses him seems to shrivel and decay at his touch. There's one entrance to the lower levels of the keep, which is where he comes and goes from, and only he comes and goes. Not even Mercer goes down below."
"Good," Grishkar beamed, "Then you're taking us there. I can't have competition, you see."
The captain sighed, taking a few deep breaths as his vision fixated on the floor. "Very well."
Stripping the man of his armor, his binds were rechecked and he was more thoroughly searched before he was tossed into the chest with the other prisoner. Trapped and secured under the padlock, the group took to the dead guards' sleeping arrangments, falling asleep to the rain which eased up its relentless pounding as the dark and cold night wore on. The group took careful watch, constructing crude arrangments to watch the roads while keeping themselves out of the worst of the rain.
By morning's light, the rain had all but ceased, leaving a pale comparison to the relentless torrent which barraged the earth with waves of water just the night previous. Frost adorned whatever surface it could cling to as Auril's breath blew throughout the encampment, the clearing in the forest acting as a natural funnel for her harsh breath to slip through. Most had lost feeling to their toes as the night grew darker and darker before growing brighter and brighter, their soaked leather boots and wet socks sucking away any heat their bodies produced. They eagerly started fires, running about and doing whatever they could to bring feeling and warmth to their bodies, leaving their wet clothing and armor by the fire to dry. Within a few hours of waking, the slow drizzle of rain had ended, their clothes had dried, and their bellies were full of dried bread, salted pork, nuts, and various berries native to the surrounding countryside.
Flashback From Rivvil and Rosie's Watch Last Night
“Hey, Riv,” Rose approaches the half-drow, Chewie in tow. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. Wished that captain was a little more compliment but.....” he says as he puts a feather in his book before closing it.
“You actually got way more out of him than I expected, so congrats,” she shrugged. “Whatcha reading there?”
“Oh....its...its just a little something my mentor gave me. Though it’s difficult to read.” Rivvil says clutching the book close to himself.
“What was your mentor like?” Rose asked curiously. “Sorry if you feel like I’m prying... I’ve been on my own for a while, it’s nice to be around people again.”
“No. I get it. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone about my past. It’s not exactly the happiest.” Rivvil pauses for a moment, thinking about something before finally speaking up again. “I like you gnome. You remind me of the few I saw down where I lived. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you a little bit about my mentor and my life and then you tell me a little bit about someone important to you and your life. And then for each question you ask me about my life I get to ask you a question about yours, deal?” Rivvil offers.
“Deal,” Rose grinned. “I’ll even let you go first.”
Rivvil chuckles. “Of course. Now, where to start?” He pauses for a moment before saying “His name is Dizvar. He is a drow consort mage to one Jezfaere.” As Rivvil says Jazfaere he does a slight spit after the name almost like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “She was my enslaver and the one who ordered my training to be a bodyguard. But I don’t want to talk about her. Dizvar was the one who took care of me. He was the one who risked his life sneaking food to me, making sure I didn’t die from infected wounds, got me out to the surface when she ordered to kill me, and was the one who taught me everything I know about my abilities. Where I’m from the arcane magic is the lowest form of magic there is and the only form that a male is allowed to study. However, Dizvar didn’t believe that. So he began researching about a higher form of magic, blood magic, the kind of magic I do. He taught me the basics and I was the first one he knew who could successfully do it. This book I have is his research. All of it. He gave it to me as he was helping me flee the Underdark. I hope to master everything in this book and one day return to the Underdark. Show Jezfaere what a male half-drow can do. And repay the only person down there to show me kindness.” As Rivvil has been sharing his story he’s kept his head down and hair covering his face. However, once he is done he looks back at the gnome and she sees an intensity in there that she has never seen in Rivvil before.
“Wow, that’s-“ Rose took a deep breath. “Would you like a hug?”
“What’s a hug?” Rivvil asks.
Without waiting for permission, Rose threw her arms around Rivvil and squeezed him tightly. "This is a hug."
Rivvil tenses up at first, not knowing what to do. Eventually, he gingerly puts his arms around the gnome and gives the smallest of squeezes. “This is nice.” He says. “Drow don’t do this.” After the hug eventually ends he says “I’m sorry if it was a little....intense. That’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone about my past. Normally telling them I was trained to be a bodyguard is enough and they don’t ask any more questions.”
“I’m glad you shared, and I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share with me,” Rose makes no movements to the end the hug. “What you went through sounds truly terrible. I knew drow were kind of *****, but I had no idea just how bad it was.”
“Yes,” Rivvil says. The uncomfortableness of talking about himself continues. “So, little one. I think you owe me a little tale about yourself.” He says hoping to shift the focus off of him.
“Ask away, what would you like to know?” Rosie says.
Rivvil hesitates at first. He’s unsure if he should ask this but he decides he wants to know. “Tell me about who raised you. Tell me about your parents.”
“Can’t tell you what I don’t know,” Rose looked down at the ground. “I was found at the gates of an orphanage when I was a newborn. Raised is a generous term,” she laughed nervously. “The city didn’t fund the orphanage well, and they never had enough food for everyone. As soon as I was old enough, I took to the streets. I could get way more food picking pockets and begging, and someone younger needed my bed.”
Rivvil let’s out a light chuckle before saying “Well that’s something we have in common. I don’t know my real parents either. All I know is my mom was a slave, probably dead now, and my dad was one of the male drow working for Jazfaere.”
“I’ve never really cared for finding them,” Rose smiled up at Rivvil. “If they didn’t want to get to know me, then why should I want to get to know them, you know?”
“I guess that makes sense.” Rivvil reaches down to pick up Chewie and put him in his lap. “Your turn. Ask your question.”
“Why did Jazfaere order your execution?” Rose asked. Chewie, who barely fit on Rivvil’s lap, licked at the half-drow’s face happily.
Rivvil just smiles at the puppy but moves him so he the half-drow could actually speak. “Because half-drow aren't supposed to exist. In drow eyes that means that the highest of all life forms slept with the lowest of the low. And someone saw me. And then rumors started that I was her son. And rumors can be enough to ruin your status in drow society and have you tumbling down to the bottom of the power rankings. So, she decided to have me kill in order to squash the rumors.”
“Garl Glittergold’s knickers, that blows,” Rose shook her head. “Your childhood really sucked. Would you like another hug?”
"No. It's fine. At that point its what I came to expect." Rivvil is silent for a moment before saying "Okay my turn. Who taught you your magic? It's so different than almost any magic I've seen. Your words carry so much power. Someone must have taught you how to do that."
“I taught myself, mostly,” Rose replied. “A lot of it is innate. If I thought of a picture, I could always just make it appear. As a kid, I found out buskers could make the most money. I stole a lute and kept practicing until I got good. Then, one day while I was on the run from some... bullies, I made their ears bleed just from taunting them. It’s been a bit of a journey of self-discovery, mostly.”
"Interesting. No one to guide you. So, that means even you don't truly know how far your magical powers go or what they can do." Rivvil ponders aloud.
“As long as they keep me from getting into more trouble than I can handle, I’m good,” Rose played with a minor illusion of her namesake. “My turn: why did you join the Zhentarim?”
"That's easy. They offered me a way to gain power and influence on the surface without asking too many questions. As long as I show results that's all they care about. It's actually nice for someone with nowhere else to go. Maybe you can join if you want to." Rivvil says.
“I’m not one for organizations,” Rose fidgeted nervously. “More of a lone wolf,” she chuckled. “Plus, I don’t think they’d want me either.”
"Believe me. They want you. They wanted me and I'm a crazed half-drow who uses his own blood for magic and is slowly getting more and more sex crazed and I have a problem with women due to being tortured by one for a majority of my life. I think they'll take the tricky gnome who can make people's ears bleed simply by insulting them." Rivvil counters.
“You think I’m tricky?” Rosie asks.
“Yes. You hide in combat and attack from a distance. You're tricky. It’s not a bad thing.” Rivvil explains.
Rose beamed. “Tricky is a compliment, so thank you. Also, between you and me, you’re pretty impressive too. The Zhents taking you was a calculated choice, trust me.”
“Thanks. My turn. What do you think of the others?” Rivvil asks
“You all are a right weird bunch,” Rose looked at the ground. “Chewie likes you and Vel, which is good enough for me if I’m being honest. I think you don’t know what you’re doing, and I’m worried you’re going to turn on each other at a moment’s notice. Which is incredibly shortsighted, because I can also see how powerful you are. I think you have potential.”
“I think the turning on one another is almost behind us. At least for me. I won’t turn on Veldyn. I’ve learned a little bit about him from Godiva and I appreciate him and his ambitions more now. Natah and Grishkar I’m still iffy about. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust a full elf completely. And Natah reminds me a little too much of Jazfaere.” Rivvil says, liking the back and forth more and more.
“And me? What do you think of me? Other than that I’m tricky, obviously.” Rosie asks.
“I already told you I like you. I think you’re fun. And probably the only one I could tell all this too right now. Well, maybe a little bit of it to Veldyn but only the impressive parts.” He says with a chuckle.
“The parts that make you sympathetic aren’t bad either,” Rose added. “If you’re trying to make him like you more. Guys like being able to take care of you.”
“Do they? Where I’m from the stronger you are the more desirable you are. Honestly, I don’t even think he likes me outside of my usefulness in a fight.” Rivvil chuckles some more “Sometimes I think I only like him because he reminds me of Dizvar. They both have that determination to show the world that they’re is more to them than they think.”
“If you appear too strong, people tend to think you don’t need them, and then they’ll leave you be. In my experience, showing someone, especially a man, that you require his help is a sure fire way to get him to like you,” Rose explained. “I don’t know what he thinks of you, but anyone would be lucky to have you, as a friend or a lover.”
Rivvil just smiles and waits for Rosie’s next question.
“What do you want? From life, for your future,” Rose asked. “What are your goals.”
“Right now my goal is to gain enough power so that one day I can return to the Underdark and get revenge on Jazfaere. After her, I want to disrupt the entire drow culture. So that nobody else goes through what I do. After that, I don’t know.” Rivvil answers
“Well, I’d love to help you stick it to that *****,” Rose smiled. “The enemy of my friend is an enemy to me.”
“We’ll see but, I want to kill her myself,” Rivvil says before looking up at the night sky. “It’s getting late. Last set of question for now. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Rose smiled. “I am glad I got to know you a little better. A lot of things make more sense now. What’s your last question?”
“What really is Chewie? I’m so confused. I thought he was some soul devouring thing but he doesn’t seem like it. Nobody else is scared of him. Is he really just a puppy.” Rivvil asks petting said puppy.
“He really is a puppy, just not a normal dog,” Rose replied. “Four months ago, I was traveling through the woods and I found him. Some hunters had killed his mother, the rest of her pack had probably left her to die. I was just looking for some meat, but I found Chewie and three of his siblings underneath their dead mother. Only Chewie had survived. He was so little his eyes were still closed, I couldn’t leave him,” Rose tightened her fingers into Chewie’s fur. “Normally, people keep dogs as pets. Chewie isn’t exactly a dog, more like a distant, wild cousin of one.”
“So, he won’t devour my soul?” Rivvil says hesitantly.
“No,” Rose laughed. “No canines have that power. Not even a special dog like Chewie. But, Chewie is more clever and more strong than your average wolf. He’s quite a good companion.”
Rivvil nods. “And your last question. This is your chance to ask me what you most want to know.” Rivvil says with a playful wink.
“What has been your most embarrassing moment?” Rose asked. “And don’t say faceplanting into the barricade, that doesn’t count.”
Rivvil sits there and thinks for a long time. He finally says “Okay. This was how I discovered I didn’t like women in the bedroom. I was with Dizvar and he was teaching me about the Demon Lords of the Abyss. One of them is Graz’zt the Demon Lord Of Pleasures, Sexual Desires, and Urges. He appears as the most handsome man you can imagine. Well, when I first saw him I immediately got an erection. Later when I was alone I was, pleasuring myself, to an image of him. And I wasn’t paying attention and then Dizvar walked in on me at the end of my...session. He later explained what this probably meant and then the dangers of it if I ever became a consort.”
Rose burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, I know that who you are physically endangered your life, but,” she stopped to giggle. “Underneath all of the life-threatening, manipulative drow shit, it seems so normal.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Rivvil says now laughing at the memory and how silly the entire situation was in terms of the big picture. “Rosie. This has been nice. Let’s do this again at some point. Now, I think it’s time for the others to take their watch.” He says standing up, after putting Chewie back on the ground, and gesturing for her to lead the way back to the tents.
“Anytime you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you Riv,” Rose smiled.
They both then made their way to their separate tents for the night.
Grishkar takes a more comfortable, amiable seat in the tent with the captive captain. With a snap of his fingers, candles and lanterns in the room spring to life, "Now then, the Zhentarim, as you may have gathered take very good care of those within its ranks and under its protection. Prove your loyalty and work with us, and I can assure you that you will never be without our shadow watching over you. There is strength in unity of purpose. Given my way, I would grant nothing short of absolute protection in return for fealty."
The night looked rough for both of the deserters as they lied in the cramped chest, using each other's bodies for warmth. Bullied out of the chest, the captain was brought to kneel before Grishkar as he began his merciful tirade. "And how do I show his fealty?" the captain asked plainly, his voice failing to conceal the fear within it.
"Let's start with this simple escort task. You may be called upon for further opportunities. Who knows? You may even be given underlings in time." Grishkar responds.
While everyone was removing clothing to dry by the fire, Natah refused, wrapping the large cloak even tighter around herself. This was a huge mistake, she thought to herself. I never should have agreed to do this. Refusing to leave the tent, she huddled in a corner, praying she would warm up, eventually.
Natah, can you come talk to me in private? Rose messaged her odd companion quietly. Rose was sitting at the very edge of the forest, brushing Chewy.
Reluctantly, Natah stood and exited the tent, making her way to Rose and Chewie. Crouching down, Natah huddled within the cloak. "Yesss?"
“Here, come with me,” Rose rises, motioning toward the forest.
Natah sighed and rose, following the gnome. "Why? What are we doing?"
“We’re going to have some girl-talk,” Rose replied cheerily. “Come on, I barely weigh 2 stone sopping wet. You could easily overpower me, I’m not going to murder you.”
"Girl talk?" Natah looked at Rose, confused for a moment, but quickly cleared the expression from her eyes. "Yesss. Sssure."
I wanted to talk in private, Rose messaged Natah once they reached a safe distance. If you whisper back, only I’ll be able to hear. Double security, so to speak.
Natah gave Rose another confused look. What exactly do you want to talk about?
The fact that you look and smell worse than Chewie after he plays in the mud, Rose smiled kindly. No offense meant, I just want to help you get some clothes that aren’t still soaked.
What? Natah asked, defensively.No! I'm fine!
I saw you shiver last night, you’re clearly not fine, Rose crossed her arms. How stupid would it be if you died of pneumonia after all of your adventures?
I... Natah frowned, knowing Rose was right.I have no other clothes.
I’d love to give you mine, but I doubt they’d fit, Rose joked. Listen, why don’t you strip here, away from everyone else, and let me take care of them for you. I know you always stay covered, but I don’t really care about whatever deformity you think is too horrible to show to the world. But, if it would make you more comfortable, I can walk back and have Chewie deliver the clothes back and forth. That way, even I don’t see.
Giving Rose an unsure look, Natah said, "I guessss that would be fine."
“I just want to help,” Rose shrugged. “Whatever you need.”
"I appreciate it," Natah said, grateful. "Thank you."
“Any time,” Rose smiled. “Want to hand them to me now, or use Doggie Delivery Service?”
Natah looked at Chewie, remembering how he had initially reacted to her, sure it would happen again. But what other choice did she have. "Doggy ssservice, pleassse."
“Alright!” Rose skipped back to camp, Chewie waiting behind and staring up at Natah expectantly.
Natah crouched down, getting face to face with the dog. "I know you and I don't... sssee eye to eye. That'sss fine. Jussst... pleassse promissse not to rat me out." Placing the cloak on a tree branch, she began to slowly disrobe, pulling off her wet clothes, and revealing her tan, shaded scales. Wrapping herself back in the cloak, she finally pulled off her hood and mask, revealing the last bit of her. "Pleasse, take thessse to Rossse," she said, her long, forked tongue slithering from her mouth. Chewie dutifully took the clothes in his mouth and brought them back to Rose.
Now naked and alone in the forest, Natah huddled under the cloak, feeling foolish. What if they don't bring back my clothes, she wondered. What if they find out?
After a few minutes, a voice pops out from the forest. "Apologies, I didn't realize this tree was taken," Veldyn says, heading to a different tree nearby to relieve himself.
Natah jumped at the voice. "Oh!" She huddled deeper in the cloak, pulling as much over her face as possible. "Yesss.... occupied.... Pleassse go away!" Panic creeped into her voice.
"S'ok," Veldyn replies. "I'll only be a moment." He sighs in content as he waters the tree.
Natah quickly shuffles behind a tree, keeping it between herself and Veldyn. "Can't... can't you do that sssomewhere elssse?"
"Can't stop after starting," he whines. "It hurts."
"Pleassse," Natah begged, leaning against the tree. "Go back to camp!"
He finally finishes, shakes a couple times, then buckles up. "Are you ok?" Veldyn asks, peeking over towards Natah.
"I'm fine," Natah said quickly. "Don't come over here!"
"Very well," Veldyn replies. "Enjoy the nature, we're heading back out soon." Veldyn then walks back to camp, whistling a tune.
"Uh.. before you go!" Natah called out as he turned. "Have Rossse sssend back my clothesss!"
Chewie returns shortly after Veldyn leaves, with no clothes whatsoever, to keep Natah company. "You're no help," Natah said to Chewie. "Veldyn," she yelled. "Are you ssstill there?"
"Yeah, I'll talk to her!" He calls back to her.
"Thank you!" Turning back to Chewie, Natah said, "Go get Rossse! Good boy? Get my clothesss?" Chewie remains planted firmly, only moving to roll over to ask for belly rubs.
"Go away, you damnable dog," Natah hissed. "Don't come back until you bring me my clothesss!"
Natah poked Chewie with her foot. "Pleassse, dog. Go get my clothesss. I'll... uh... give you a treat?" Chewie rolled over, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Fine," Natah sighed. She pulled the cloak around herself, and sat on the ground, next to Chewie. Sliding a hand out of the cover of the cloak, she put her hand on the dog. "I'll never underssstand the appeal of fur. Or petsss."
When Veldyn gets back to camp he stands by the fire and warms his hands. "I think Rose left Natah out in the forest nekked," he says with a grin.
“So impatient,” Rose grumbled, still working on drying the clothes. “I’m working on it.”
Rivvil just shakes his head. "I think it's best to leave her alone. You don't want to mess with a naked women. Trust me." Rivvil says with a knowing look.
Having spent the morning so far praying (Blessing of the Forge on her warhammer again), eating, and quietly observing her new companions, Lenore merely offers an amused snort.
Ten minutes later, Chewie perks up suddenly and makes a mad dash to the camp. A few seconds later, he returns to Natah, holding her clean and dry clothes in his mouth. Natah sighed with relief. "Thank you." She took the clothes from him and waited. "You can go now." Chewie doesn’t leave Natah’s side. "Go! Ssshoo!" When it was apparent Chewie wasn't going anywhere, Natah said, "**** this." She rolled her eyes and dropped the cloak. "You're a pain in the assss," she said while pulling on her clothes again. Chewie’s ears droop a bit at the comment, but he remains at Natah’s side.
Once fully dressed, Natah pulled her hood up and covered her face with her mask. Double checking that everything was covered properly, she said, "Now remember, we had an agreement. "Don't rat me out." She chuckled. "Asss if you could." Picking up the cloak, she brushed the dirt and leaves from it. Slinging it over her arm, she said, "Well, are you going to sssit there all day, or are you coming back to camp?" With that, she walked back to the camp. Once there, she walked up to Veldyn, and handed him the cloak, without making eye contact. "Thank you for loaning this to me." Chewie follows Natah back to camp, his tail tucked between his legs. As soon as he sees Rose again, he perks right back up and returns to her side. “Good boy,” the gnome murmurs, giving him a piece of jerky.
Lenore openly watches Natah and Chewie return to camp. Using the small knife she confiscated from the captain the night before, she cuts a piece from the salted pork she's eating. "So," she says, to no one in particular. "Sunshine in there, he always play with his prey?" She jerks her head toward the tent where Grishkar is having another "conversation" with the prisoners.
“We kind of took turns until we saw what worked. But, ultimately if the captives die he can make the most use out of the remains.” Rivvil answers as he is stretching out his muscles.
Natah sat at the fire, and eyed the bit of jerky Chewie was eating.
Veldyn hangs the cloak by the fire, letting it dry out. "I feel like we've gotten just about all we need from them," he says. "But tell me," he directs towards Lenore, "What was this about new management in Noltengarde?"
Lenore scowls and shakes her head in response to Veldyn's question. "Don't know much, I'm afraid. We were sent to secure trade. They ambushed us as soon as we stuck our noses into town. Took all four of us prisoners. Three of us made a run." Lenore shrugs, wipes the knife clean on her pant leg, and tucks it into her belt.
"So they ambushed you upon entering the town?" He shakes his head. "It seems they do have a firm grasp on it. Do you know who's running things there now?"
"Nary a clue." Lenore turns a little red in the face, like she's embarrassed to admit it. "Just know that this bunch said they were running me to this Mercer fella."
“Lord Eldurdine is the right bastard, and he’s the one in charge of the city itself,” Rose piped up.
Veldyn nods. "I feel we should circumvent Noltengarde, and go directly to this Mercer. If you want revenge for the damage they did to you and the rest of the Fangs with you, come with us. They'll pay for the damage they did to the Zhentarim."
“I second the idea of not going to Noltengarde,” Rose agrees. Veldyn sends a smirk Rose's way.
“I’ll follow whatever you think is best Veldyn. I’m relying on your leadership here.” Rivvil says though he seems a little awkward in expressing this thought.
Natah pulled her attention way from Chewies jerky, and looked at Lenore. "You're Zhentarim?" Her eyes widened. "Who were you traveling with," she asked quickly. "What were their namesss?"
Grishkar frees the captain and his lackey, then hurries to the exit, "Come now, we mustn't keep the family waiting."
Seeing all three exit the tent, Veldyn nods to the fire. "Get warm, we're travelling soon and it'll be best if you don't die on the road."
Lenore glances up at her former captors-turned-prisoners, pulls the captain's knife from her belt, and smiles at him as she tilts the blade back and forth. Then she uses the knife to cut another chunk of pork and turns her attention to Natah. "Bricio, Folke, and Ewis. Barely had time to know 'em, but they seemed competent." To Veldyn, Lenore adds, "I think it's in the Zhentarim's best interest to deal with Mercer, aye. Don't figure we'll get Noltengarde cleared out until we do. Teaming up seems to be the way to do it." Natah nods slowly, her eyes dropping to the campfire as if she were disappointed.
"Know any of the names?" Veldyn asks Natah. Natah shakes her head, indicating she doesn't. "Me neither. We'll be sure to mention them in our report," Veldyn states.
"Hmm?" Natah looked up, distracted. "Oh. Sssure." She stood, and quickly made her way to the tent they had slept in, to gather her belongings.
Lenore glances after Natah. "Just as well she don't know 'em. Folke and Ewis got crossbow bolts in the back. Don't imagine Bricio's fared much better. Guess he might still be alive."
“Well. Are we going to destroy this little camp and then make our way there. I think a nice trashing session is just what we need to get our blood pumping this morning.” Rivvil says, obviously eager to get on to the next fight.
“Don’t go trashing the whole thing just yet,” Rose objected. “There are some supplies we should nab.”
Veldyn nods, pulling his cloak up and swinging it onto his back. "Gather what you think is useful, destroy the rest," he says, kicking a stool into the fire.
Lenore tucks the knife back into her belt and stands. She's wearing scale armor with a crimson stole over the shoulders. An amulet hanging against her chest is shaped like a cog. Oddly, when compared to the obviously well-crafted warhammer she wears, the shield on her back is well cared for but very plain. She aids the others in turning the camp upside down for anything useful.
As the group dismantles the camp, Natah leans against a tree, filing her nails to maintain their sharp points. She stares into the forest, distracted. Rose is grabbing all of the food she can find and makes someone else who is not less than three feet tall carry it. At some point while they're upending the camp, Lenore wanders near Rose and clears her throat. "Thanks for ah, getting me out of that box. Little uncomfortable." Then Lenore helps Rose carry whatever Rose needs help carrying.
“Anytime,“ the gnome smiled. “You know, I didn’t get the name, Rosiniana the Savior of People in Boxes for nothing,” she gave the dwarf a wink. Lenore stares flatly at Rose for a second, blinks, and finally chuckles.
Scouring the tents, Veldyn leaves Natah's tent with a healers kit and what looks like a water skin full of wine. He drops both on the ground and starts to break down a cart. Under the cart is a large crate, opening it, he sees it's full of food; dried meat, sacks of grain, and vegetables. Looking at the lid, he sees the sign of Noltengarde. He lifts the crate and places it next to the other items. "Why is Noltengarde supporting Mercer?" He asks the captain.
Untied, the captain massaged his wrists and stretched. "Not sure. Mercer must've worked out some sort of deal with the good Lord. Or maybe the Lord just likes Luskan more than Neverwinter?" The other captive looked around, visibly anxious. "The names Dalton, by the way." He glanced to Grishkar warily. "If I'm uh... gonna be a part of this family, I figure you should know my name."
Veldyn offers Dalton one of his hands. "Lord Veldyn Steelspire," he says. "You'll be wanting to stick with us, as we're going to kill Mercer and his pet, we're going to visit Noltengarde, and Lord Eldurdine will be signing a contract to accept the Zhentarim's aide. If you live through this, we'll put a word in with the Zhentarim and you may have a chance to join one of the most powerful and successful guilds in the Realms." He eyes the captain for a few moments, "Does that interest you?"
"Steelspire?" Dalton repeated the name inquisitively. "The same ones from Neverwinter?"
Grishkar slides up next to Dalton and his underling, "More to the point, what is your plan for getting us to Mercer and this necromancer you spoke of? We can't be going in blind and off of your promises that we'll be delivered safe and sound."
The ex-captain straightened up rigid as Grishkar's creepy voice slid into his ear. He cleared his throat and then responded, "Yes... well... It was a little difficult to think of a proper plan while cramped with my good friend Jackmon in that chest last night. But we've got a day and a night and a day before we get to Mercer's keep, so I'll think extra hard on how to get you in." He flashed a weak smile, obviously harrowed by the necromancer in some fashion.
Having gathered supplies from the campsite the group has a wineskin full of a mysterious red liquid. “Let me see it. I’m pretty good at figuring stuff like this out.” Rivvil says. He then takes a better look at the liquid, smelling it and getting a good look at its color. Based on the color and smell he knows exactly what this is. “It’s a wineskin filled with a standard healing potion. It’ll be useful for the days ahead.” He says as he proceeds to attaches it to his belt.
Much to Rivvil's dismay, the wood was soaked from last night's rain, making it difficult to light it ablaze. Still, the half-drow persisted, carefully tending to the underfires, making sure enough dry tinder was available to help the spark grow into a raging inferno. It took the better part of a half-hour, but soon the barricades which separated Noltengarde from the rest of the world stood ablaze in glorious, retributive light. The flame's reflection danced across Rivvil's dark eyes as he watched with gleeful satisfaction.
Once they were certain the barricades would burn fully, they set their backs to the warm flames and began down the wooded, wet road towards Noltengarde. Jackmon, the twitchy, fidgety underling to Dalton, continued to look about, peering into the forest, as if expected a charging boar or raging bear to appear from the thick underbrush at any moment and gore or maul him to death. Any attempts at conversation with the underling were cut short as he opened his mouth and let out a guttural moan, betraying the fact he had no tongue. Dalton was quick to explain the incident: Jackmon's tongue landed him in a rough spot a few years back when he was just a thug for the Night Crows, one of a handful of thieves' guilds and dens of debauchery and scum in Neverwinter. Some pompous freak had stormed their base of operations, swiftly dispatched of their ringleader, then proceeded to burn the whole building down. The resulting power vacuum cost Jackmon his tongue as several rose to try and grab the newly vacant position.
It was a bleak tale, but it helped pass the time as the group trekked down the road. The forest had cleared soon after they lost sight of the encampment as if it acted as a chokepoint for both the forest and road. The surroundings countryside was fairly flat; roving hills dotted the landscape for several miles, as did large clusters of trees which seemed to spring from the ground beneath them, like some ancient network of roots spawned from the heart of the wood, its tendrils reaching as far as the nutrients allowed. The open terrain allowed the group to see for a mile or so around them. Behind them, the smoke of the burning barricades rose briefly into the dreary sky, and far, far ahead, concealed behind a cluster of trees and hills, a similar plumage of smoke rose into the air. "Noltengarde," Dalton remarked, scratching at his shoulder.
And much closer, about a mile north, the group could spot something glistening in the brief rays of the sun, like a small wave of navy blue was surging towards them along the road.
Veldyn squints his eyes and waves away the flies that have gathered around. "Does that look like an army to you?" He asks.
“I can’t tell. It’s too far away. It just looks like a sea of blue.” Rivvil says as he’s not even paying attention to the army but is instead looking at the side of Veldyn’s face and his dark blue eyes.
Veldyn turns his attention to their two captives, "If you plan to join them," he says glancing over at the smoke rising from Noltengarde, "Now would be the time. Hell, I'll even promise we won't kill you for running. You can tell them a small group of five Zhentarim and an angry gnome are marching on the Fort. I'm sure they won't laugh before taking your heads for betraying Mercer."
Dalton chuckled. "When I cast my lot, I cast my lot... until something more favorable comes along." He points to the horizon. "That isn't welcoming," he glances to Jackmon, who seemed to look longingly at the wave of blue, "for any of us." Jackmon snapped back to attention, looking around at the surrounding environment.
Veldyn nods to Dalton. "You'll make a great Zhent one day, I think. But you do need to learn that loyalty has its rewards. We're a group of five, yes... backed by an empire that stretches throughout the realms. These hundreds of soldiers are impressive in this rural area, but they're pathetic in their paltry goals." Veldyn glances over at Jackmon, then over at Grishkar. "Jackmon can't talk, tis true... but his hands still work. Does he see the bigger picture?"
"Do you trust Jackmon, Dalton?" Veldyn asks. "Does he see the bigger picture, and can you guarantee his loyalty until this is done?"
Dalton looked over to Jackmon, whose eyes had gone wide in fear. He offered an indifferent shrug. "I did suggest killing all of them when you captured us. I won't guarantee anything beyond my own flesh and will."
In one fluid movement, Veldyn's longsword is out of his sheath and tossed to Dalton. "We can't have that," he says.
Dalton caught the longsword in the air with ease, bringing the blade around in a few arcs. He glanced over the Veldyn and the rest of the group, then into Jackmon's wide eyes. Jackmon had stayed while everyone else under his command had fled that night. He'd remained loyal, even as the darkness closed in all around them, blinding their eyes and sight. He held the point of the longsword to Jackmon's throat, whose eyes could only plead for mercy. The moment lasted for a minute before Dalton sighed and tossed the longsword back to Veldyn. "Looks like I'm going soft... His loyalty is on me."
Jackmon let out a throaty cry as tears came to his eyes. It seemed the man valued life just as much as Dalton.
Veldyn nods to Dalton, "If you can trust him, so can we. Lets move around the army. They're likely to capture Hannock, but we need to keep our eyes on the prize." Veldyn seems hesitant to continue, as his mind wonders to Godiva. His only hope is that he taught her well enough to survive... no matter the cost. He leads the group around the army before regaining the trail towards the Fort.
“If they capture Hannock, we’re ****ed,” Rose objected. “Right now its an insurgency. Maybe we can do something tricky and stop them. We’re trying to save Hannock, what’s the point of doing this if there’s no town left to save?”
“You’re the tricky one here.” Rivvil tells Rosie “If you’ve got something tricky say it now otherwise hope the barricade fire spreads and keeps them out.”
"There's little we can do to help them," Veldyn says, sheathing his longsword. "But if you want to warn them, the road is clear behind us."
Natah moved up next to Veldyn. She'd been quiet and kept to herself since leaving the camp, but now she stared at the shimmering blue that stretched out before them. "Thisss isss bad," she commented, shoving the blue tabards deeper into her pack. "We need to get to Noltengarde, we have multiple missssionsss we need to finisssh there." She pointed with a sharp tipped finger. "If we ssstay wide, ssstay low, do you think we can move around them?"
Thus far content to observe her new companions and their group dynamics, Lenore clears her throat. "Seems foolish to face 'em head on, certainly. And even if we somehow managed to save Hannock, how much good would it do if the person ordering that army is still around to send another? Of course... If we did somehow tail 'em to Hannock and managed to pick off just one of 'em, might be we could get some information about what exactly they're up to. And who they actually work for. Maybe we'd find another chatty one." Lenore cuts a sarcastic look toward Dalton. Then she glances toward Noltengarde and sighs like she's recognizing her mission there is good and failed at this point. "Although it does seem quite likely that army belongs to Mercer, at this point."
Grishkar stares blankly at Lenore as she elaborates her plan. When finished, he looks to the others and points to her, "I like this one," he states matter-of-factly.
Rose sulks towards the back of the group.
Lenore aims a flat look at Grishkar and, with an equally flat voice, replies, "I'm honored." Then she squints toward the distant sea of blue. Maybe it's because her eyes are sharp from fine metalworking, or maybe it's just because she's low enough to the ground to avoid the flies afflicting everyone else. But after a second, she says, "They're horseback, I think. I'm counting a dozen, at least."
Lenore squints a little harder. Then she stands a little straighter. "They're riding hard. That's no patrol. They'll be on us in two minutes, three if we're lucky." She backpedals a step toward the road's edge. "However we're planning to avoid being seen by 'em, I suggest we get to it."
"And away I go!" Grishkar exclaims. He leaps off the road, waving his hands in a flourish as an illusionary bush springs into life around his crouched form.
Seeing that their time was limited, Natah headed for the tallest bit of grass she could, pulling herself down as far as possible.
"Everyone huddle up," Rose sighs, scoffing at Grishkar's paltry attempt at an illusion. The others comply, and with everyone in place, Rose pulls up a silent image of dense foliage that covers everyone.
Rivvil gives an appreciating nod to the tricky gnome.
From the solitary bush nearby, Grishkar asks, "What was that about being racist for assuming gnomes know magic?"
Rose flips off Grishkar.
Grishkar's hand pokes out from his bush and waves to Rose.
The group concealed themselves in several locations. Natah dove for a tall patch of grass, using all of her training to keep herself hidden [natural 20 on Stealth]. Grishkar hid in an illusory bush along the side of the road. No more than a hundred feet away from him, Rose conjured a silent image of some dense foliage, and the rest of the group, including Dalton and Jackmon, took refuge within the illusion, hoping to wait out the band of soldiers.
A minute or so passed until they heard the rumble of the horses' hooves galloping along the muddy road. Grishkar reinforced his illusion, making sure it didn't glitch or fade while they road by. Soon, the brigade of soldiers was in sight. Fourteen deserters, dressed in polished armor and attire, Neverwintan tabards blowing in the breeze they brought with them, helmets glistening in the sunlight which slide between parted clouds, scabbards concealing their weapons of choice, and lances drawn high into the air, road past them. Grishkar felt the thundering hooves as the ground shook all around him, as mud splattered onto his face and robes as they road past... until one stopped. The lone knight slowed his stallion to a stop and peered at the dense foliage. Grishkar heard him begin to speak, to begin to utter some expression of curiosity before it was all silenced by a roaring voice from the front of the riders [Natural 1 on Investigation]. "WHAT IN ASMODEUS' NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, SOLDIER?!? OUR FRONTLINE IS BURNING AND YOU'RE GAWKING AT THE SCENERY ALL AROUND YOU?! FORM BACK IN LINE OR I'LL HAVE MERCER CASTRATE YOU AND THEN DROP YOU DOWN THE SHIT-HOLE THAT NECROMANCER-FREAK LIVES IN!!"
The captain of the riders drilled something into the soldier's head, who hastily whipped his horse into a gallop as the riders quickly took off towards the burning barricades. Minutes passed, but soon their forms merged into a wave of navy blue, their helmets glistened in the sparse rays of sunlight.
After they pass and are well out of sight, Veldyn stands. "That was a lot less impressive than I though it was going to be..." He says. "Well done, Rose! And it honestly lightened my heart that it wasn't the hundred-man army I thought it could be." He looks to Dalton and Jackmon, "I may have overestimated your boss.... but it's better than underestimating him. One leads to survival, the other to an early grave." He tosses the soldier his armor and hands him the heavy crossbow and bolts he took. "Lets go... we've got a couple day's travel ahead."
Rose shrugged at the praise, fading toward the back of the group with Chewie. Natah popped up from her hiding spot in the tall grass. She looked down the road, watching the where the deserters had gone for a moment, pleased they had bypassed the group. Quietly, she allowed the group to pass before following behind at a distance.
“Let’s. I don’t necessarily want to be back here once they find their barricade destroyed.” Rivvil says, opting to keep Dalton’s shield.
Dalton caught his old equipment and flashed a grin. "So... full trust, huh? I'll try not to live it down." He hastily donned the armor, strapping the bolts to his thigh and hefted the heavy crossbow over his shoulder.
Rivvil replies “No. Not full trust. I don’t trust anyone completely until I’ve seen you fight. And so far, I’m not impressed.”
He countered with a snort, "Vision is a far better weapon than a sharpened blade."
Veldyn assists the deserter with his armor. "I don't know what drove you from your service to Neverember," he states as he does. "But know that his time will come. Luskan has never gotten this close to Neverwinter before, and I believe the horrors you may have experienced are in part his doing." He tightens the back-strap for the soldier, "You'll see his fall if you stick with us."
He gave a curt nod. "I've got nothing against the old man. The city's grown under his rule. But this war is Beshaba's luck."
Rivvil chuckles a little at Dalton’s comeback. “Yes. I’m sure your vision was real clear while you were crying on the ground begging for your life.”
"I'm alive now, aren't I?" he mused with a wink.
“Not by my choice.” Rivvil says through gritted teeth.
Veldyn passes Rivval after finishing helping with Dalton's armor. "Oh... but didn't you leave the tent unsatisfied?" He asks with a sly grin.
"I may have left the tent unsatisfied. But me and Rosie had a pleasurable experience later that night that more than made up for it." Rivvil says before turning and joining Rosie towards the back of the marching order.
Lenore lets the chatter pass around her without comment. She walks toward the middle of the group, near enough to those walking behind to lend them aid if needed. As she walks, she frowns in deep thought. After a few minutes, she pipes up. "Their front line is burning, that's what he said. If he means the barricades, then they're not riding for Hannock at all. They came t' check on the fire. Which also means..." Lenore's steps slow and she glances back. "They may be coming back this way again. And wherever they came from may be not too far ahead of us. Possibly we'd be fools to keep tramping in plain sight along the road, like we've not a care in the world?"
"We need to find an alternate route," Veldyn says, pulling the makeshift map from his pouch. "Rivvil," he calls, waving the half-elf over. "Do you think you can navigate us around the town and to the fort?" He inspects the map before handing it to the bloodhunter.
Rivvil is conflicted. On one hand he’s angry at Veldyn. On the other he could really impress Veldyn with this. He decides after a second to take the map and inspect it and the surrounding area looking for an alternative route to the fort that goes around the town and in theory out of the riders way back after they take care of the burning barricade.
Rivvil looked at the map and then his surroundings. Dalton mentioned that Noltengarde was five or six miles from their current location, which would place it around the bend of some hills and trees far ahead. He took the group east, off the path and towards a cluster of hills to get a better vantage point of their surroundings.
“Follow me.” Is all Rivvil says as he leads the group on the course.
The trek was quick, only lasting a few minutes before they were within the safety of the hills. Navigating them until they reached a high point, Rivvil was able to plot a proper course. It would add an extra two hours to their journey he estimated, but it would keep them off the path as they hugged the forest line which surrounded Noltengarde on the east side, moving along the edge of the forest until they found the trail which connected Mercer's Keep to Noltengarde.
Once the group started moving again, Natah noticed Rose and Chewie lingering toward the back, not too far from her. Realizing she hadn't had a chance to talk to Rose since camp, she moved a bit closer. "Rossse?" She looked down a the gnome. "Could I ssspeak with you a moment?"
“Of course,” the gnome replied. “I’m always here. Anytime you need me.”
Natah gave her a nod. "I jussst wanted to thank you for helping me out back at camp. Sssome thingsss are... difficult for me."
“I know,” Rose smiled softly. “I don’t know why, but I just wanted to help you.”
"I really do appreciate it." Natah gave her another nod. "You too, Chewie."
“Chewie is quite good at following directions,” Rose patted her puppy’s head lovingly.
"Indeed," Natah said, smiling behind her mask. "We had a nice chat. He'sss a good lissstener."
“He’s the best listener,” Rose chuckled. “His advice on the other hand...”
Natah looked at Rose, slightly confused. "Advice?"
“His last words of wisdom to me were if a stick doesn’t fit into your mouth, than it’s not actually meant to be your stick,” Rose replied. “Which, actually isn’t that bad I suppose. Still, I was asking him what he wanted for dinner.”
Rose watched as Rivvil just march to the back and immediately just join in with walking next to her.
"You can talk to him?" Natah sounded rather upset by this fact, but quickly got quiet as Rivvil neared them.
Rivvil looks over at the two girls and then says "Don't mind me. If you want to talk in secret do that mind thing Rosie."
Natah cleared her throat. "Anyway, thank you." She moved away again. "I'll leave you to talk."
“I’ve had him since he was a newborn, of course I can talk to him,” Rose replied. “And please Natah, stay and talk.” Natah gave Chewie a worried look, but didn't say anything.
You don’t need to worry, your secret is safe with me, Rose messaged to Natah, in reference to her calculated slip. I don’t care what you look like on the outside.
Natah went wide eyed and looked at Rose in horror. She quickly dropped her gaze to the ground before her, her heart racing. Rivvil isn't really paying attention. He's trying to act like he is but is actually paying attention to the front of the group. How... no, never mind. I know how, Natah sent back to Rose. I... I... She sent a glance toward Rivvil. Why wouldn't you tell him? Tell everyone?
Why would they need to know?
Do... do you actually know anything about... my kind? Natah dropped her gaze once again, ashamed.
I tend to not judge people on the rest of “their kind.” You know, because that’s racist, Rose replied. So far, you’ve been an excellent ally, and that’s enough for me.
Natah took a deep breath. That's well and fine for... well, literally anyone else. But my kind... She paused looking to the front of the group, at Veldyn. My kind are deceivers. Devoid of emotion, and only wish to further their own agenda. We're usually killed when discovered. For good reason.
Are you planning on betraying me?
Regardless of what I tell you, Natah messaged back, looking Rose in the eye. I've been trained to lie. I've been trained to blend in. Even if I tell you I would never betray you, how could you ever trust me, knowing what I am?
I think you’re smart enough to not lie to me, Rose messaged back.
Or you'll betray my secret? Natah asked.
No, Rose replied. If you betray me, I’ll probably end up dead. I just think we’re better off working together.
Natah nodded. Everything, and I mean everything you know about me, must be kept quiet. You can't tell anyone. Even my own people would kill me if they found out about me.
Of course, I already said your secret is safe with me, Rose smiled. Would you feel better if you knew a secret of mine?
Is it a secret that could get you killed? Natah frowned.
If that’s the kind of secret you want.
Fine. Natah nodded at Rose. If you trust me with this kind of information.
I’m wanted by at least six lords, each one has a bounty on my head, Rose shared. Mostly for theft, but there’s a few counts of arson mixed in there.
Natah slowly smiled behind her mask. Six? What did you do?
I told you, theft and arson. Well, mostly.
Better than people wanting you dead for... well, what you are. Natah gave Rose a smile.
Yeah, I’m sorry people suck, Rose frowned. Well, I promise I only hate people for who they are, not what they are.
I appreciate everything you've done for me, Rose. Natah awkwardly placed her hand on the top of Rose's head. Kindness isn't something I'm used to.
Grishkar's raven-sight grants him a glimpse of another deserter making their way to the gate. Without hesitating, the elf raises his hand, forms a few gestures, and calls out with the armored deserter's voice, "False alarm! Just some farmers that didn't want to pay!"
A heartbeat passes...
I'll remember that for next time!
Grishkar can scarcely make out the reply of a male voice, "Sounds good, Thomas! Make sure to keep the bodies for Drastin."
(Minor Illusion ftw!)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
His ally laid dead on the floor, a crossbow bolt buried through his neck and lodged in his spine, and yet his voice cried out, saying all was well? He looked around confused, oblivious to some of the figures hiding in the trees. Rose's vicious mockery tore at his brain, dredging unwanted memories. He dropped his sword, running as fast as he could back to the encampment, yelling, "Kronk! Pull the lever!" [Disengage, moved to D5]
The other deserter, seeing his friend flee so suddenly, took a desperate jab at Rivvil before turning to run back too. The shortsword grazed Rivvil's ribs, leaving a superficial wound. [21 to-hit, 3 piercing damage; moved to F4] Seizing on the opportunity, Rivvil let fly his flaming whip like a demonic monster from another universe, but the attack lashed out just behind the deserter's ankle, almost dragging him down to that black abyss of death [9 to-hit, miss].
Encounter Tracker:
Deserter #1 - DeadMap:
Natah began to shiver again, as she released her next arrow, causing it to sail wide. She swore, and slid into the shadows, moving closer quietly.
(11 to hit, miss, hide, moved to c7)
A dwarf with a canoe on his back? What could go wrong?
“Veldyn knock out the other one we need the information.” Rivvil says as he moves up to D5 and strikes out at D3 with his flaming whip landing a nasty slash on him.
//To Hit: 21 For: 3 Fire Damage and 6 Slashing Damage//
At Rivvil's suggestion, Veldyn launches himself forward. Feinting with his blade, he's able to get close enough to land a hard pommel strike into the bandit's skull (F4). The bandit falls to the ground like a bag of rocks (20 to hit, 9 damage).
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Grishkar's raven sounds an alarm from the pallisade and glides to the gate the deserters emerged from. Grishkar mutters a prayer to the God of Strife and channels power through his familiar. When the next one opens the gate, Grishkar will loose his pet and hopefully gain access to the inner camp.
(Readied Inflict Wounds for when the next deserter comes within view through the gate.)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
“Your face looks like someone sat on it!” Rose called out to the one feeling, watching him fall to the ground with glee. “Yeah, sticks and stones can break your bones, but Rosie’s words dropped ya!”
PBP: DM of Titans of Tomorrow
PBP: Lera Zahuv in Whispers of Dissent
PBP: Evaine Brae in Innistrad: Dark Ascension
PBP: Cor'avin in Tomb of Annihilation
Grishkar's raven caws out several times as the deserters on the near-side of the barricade drop. Amidst the pouring rain, biting cold, and blackened skies, a horn sounds clear, piercing through the ambient noises. A few seconds pass, and the group hears a voice call out from the far side of the barricade. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, yeah? How about we put down our weapons and talk this one out." The other side of the barricade soon goes dark as plumages of smoke rise into the wet air, marking the extinguishment of campfires.
Upon hearing the voice call out, Natah ran back to the still burning lantern, and snuffed out the flame, leaving them all in darkness. Then she ran forward, and found a tree near the barricade. Climbing up, she positioned herself where she'd be able to shoot any enemies that made themselves known.
Grishkar whispers a prayer to Cyric, Lord of Shadows and Intrigue, to grant him passage unseen. He passes through the brush reasonably well since everyone is distracted in darkness and negotiations. Moving around the left side of the barricade, he hopes to spy exactly what they're up against.
The underbrush is thick as Grishkar moves. The crunching of leaves is masked by the fall of rain, granting him silent passage through the darkness.
That is, until his foot catches a tripwire and a bell starts ringing from the side of the camp he's trying to approach. He spots four deserters, three of them in black leathers and light crossbows, with the fourth wearing heavier armor and a heavy crossbow. Two are positioned against the barricade while the others are positioned near the tents. They're eyes all flash towards Grishkar's side of the camp, scanning to blackness for any movement.
Veldyn pulls the unconscious man up, sword on his throat. “Who speaks for the deserters?” He calls out. “We will run this camp to the ground if you continue to impede our journey.” The man's eyes lull a bit as he slowly begins to wake up (1 point healing to him, 6 to myself). Veldyn's eyes dart around the battlefield as his senses heighten (Divine Sense).
Rivvil, not wanting to ruin Veldyns attempt at diplomacy nor give away his friends location, gingerly steps forward to G6. His hands in the air while he does so, but not letting go of his whip says, “We mean no harm. I’m sure we can talk this out.” Meanwhile his whip hand is ready to strike out at the first enemy within reach that attempts to harm any of his allies.
Rose and Chewie snuck around the sides, keeping to the shadows.
The deserter cursed silently to himself as the lantern's light went out, casting the whole battlefield in darkness. A deep voice with a northern accent, the heavily-armored figure's, rose out from the darkness, "I speak for New Luskan. Leave now and I'll stay my undead silently waiting in the forest to come down on your position."
Grishkar and Natah can make out the movement within the darkened camp. One of the deserters heads east, moving into the forest and out of the sight. The heavily-armored deserter had his heavy crossbow trained at the barricade, whereas the remaining two aim their light crossbows to their west flank.
"Even now I feel the presence of undead, and the only presence I feel is my own necromancer's," Veldyn replies with a smirk. It's hard to make the figures out in the darkness, but he's sure his companions are gaining positions on them. His grip tightens on the bandit, his shield and arm pushed hard in his chest. "Nothing short of you all leaving will assure you will never rise as our agents of death. If you intend to stay," Veldyn drags the man forward to get closer to the barricade, one slow step at a time, "your corpses will be added to our armies." (11 on Intimidation)
“Why don’t I show you some of the undead we already have under our control.” Rivvil says before he starts chanting the arcane words, which he hopes they don’t understand Undercommon, to the only spell he knows ending it clearly in common with “Come forth my will-o-wisp.” And with that, a glowing orb of dim light appears about 15 feet in the sky above the deserters head. They look up at the glowing orb, one with fear, the rest with confusion. "I ain't never heard of a willing-of-the-mist before," one of the guards mentioned.
Grishkar crouches low then waves a few signs in the dark. As he speaks his voice resonates from behind the deserters' extinguished fires, "Throw your weapons to the side and eat the dirt! We've got a dozen bows trained on you for each you hold. Make a move and we'll give you all new holes to breathe through." [minor illusion]
Natah watched as one of the deserters moved closer toward Grishkar. No you don't, she thinks to herself. She notched an arrow and sent it flying into the back of her enemy. Don't go that way, she thinks. The danger is in this direction. [21 to-hit, 9 piercing damage]
Grishkar's illusory voice, coupled with Natah's crossbow bolt, sent the deserter who'd been shot charging into the forest, fleeing in terror. The deserter captain, wide-eyed, shouted, "Stand your ground you scurvy dogs! It's all a ruse!" [16 on Investigation vs. Grishkar's minor illusion] Still, Natah could make out the sounds of movement headed east and away from the battle, probably the deserter who'd snuck off into the forest just moments before, no longer trying to be stealthy. The second deserter held his ground, his crossbow trained on the west flank, though fear filled his darkened eyes as his head pivoted all around him, searching for anything in the blackness.
Rose opened the chest with a click of her thieves’ tools, going on her tiptoes to open it. “Wait a minute, Chewie, this isn’t gold,” one side of her mouth began to quirk up into a bit of a smile. The pup let out a low bark, which solicited an eye roll from the pretty gnome. “Well, sweetheart, what got you locked in a chest?”
As the chest lid swings open, a dwarven woman with a swarthy complexion and dark hair sits bolt upright and lunges with both hands at the gnome. Broken manacles dangle from her wrists. She stops just short of actually making a grab at Rose, and her gaze darts around her. "Yer not one a them," she states in a low, earthy voice.
“No I’m not,” Rose smiled, extending a hand toward the dwarf. “And which them are you a part of?”
The dwarven woman lowers the hands she was going to grab at the gnome with and instead grasps the sides of the chest in preparation for hauling herself out of it. She pauses and narrows her eyes at the gnome. "Who wants to know?" she asks, with a thick dwarven accent. She glances around the tent interior (with her darkvision) and squints as she attempts to look out any open doorway as well. "An' where the feck are we?"
“Rosiniana, pleasure to meet you,” Rosie replied. “And we’re in the middle of a battle. Well, we’re in a tent, that’s in the middle of a camp, that’s in the middle of a battle.”
All of a sudden everyone hears a voice say “**** all this talking.” Some of you recognize this as Rivvil’s voice. Who suddenly charges forward and attempts to leap over the barricade that is as tall as him. While Rivvil has darkvision, the rain must've gotten into his eyes because he misjudges the distance to the barricade and when he should jump. Rivvil jump too early and slam into the barricade, falling onto the muddy ground prone as the rain pours onto his face.
Veldyn squeezes his grip on his captive tighter and pushes his longsword against the man's neck to draw blood. "Scream for your companions to drop their weapons or your corpse will be added to your friends." (Held action, attacking captive if weapons are not visibly dropped by the deserters, advancing to the barricade more, if needed)
Natah then tries to shoot at the man at the barricade, but the rain pushed a branch in her way at the last moment, and the arrow went flying in the wrong direction.
The armored crossbowman was obviously the leader and would know more than the others. Standing finally, Grishkar's hands work in an elementary, but powerful pattern. By his command, three glowing darts release from his hands and pierce the last of the lightly-armored deserters. (Magic Missile for a total of 10 damage.)
The blackness eats away at the two remaining deserter's courage and valor as crossbow bolts and-now-magical bolts of arcane power sail through the air, striking them as easily as if the sun hung high in the sky. The leather-clad deserter breaks first, as Grishkar's magic missiles send him into a full panic. He gasps for air as the arcane energy slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and breaking at least one rib. Stumbling through the darkness, he turns and blindly flees away from everything, clipping the deserter captain and crashing into the mud [moves to H4; prone]. The deserter captain, realizing defeat, grits his teeth and curses to himself, his mind racing with options. "You're a frakking dolt for going out there in the first place," the captain shouts out against the black sky and pouring rain to Veldyn's hostage, dropping his crossbow and loosening the beltloop for his scabbard, causing both to drop into the mud. "Kill these worthless scum, grant me safety, and I'll tell you what you want to know."
Veldyn nods to Rivvil, his own captive still in a death-grip. "Lets tie them up," he says, "And see what we've got here."
Rivvil gets up off the ground and climbs onto the barricade looking at the surrendered captain. “He doesn’t seem to be lying or like he’s planning a trick. I say we take him. This fun night might just get better for me.” He says with a smile. Veldyn shoves his captive hard against the barricade whilst sheathing his sword and pulling the slack from his rope. Quickly, he ties the man's arms, drops him, them hogties the legs. Satisfied, he looks over to Rivvil to check his progress. Rivvil will climb down from the barricade and begin tying the captains hands behind his back.
"Can ye send one of the lights over here?" Veldyn asks, walking back to his purse.
Rivvil creates three more lights and send one with Veldyn. “You guys can come out now.” He also calls before looking at the weapons the captain dropped as well as checking him for any valuable.
After gathering what he could of his gold, Veldyn drags the captive back towards the tents. "We can't stay long. Take what you can and lets destroy the rest." He looks over to Rose and her new 'friend' with a questioning look.
While the last of the fight is dying down outside, the dwarven woman blinks at Rose's still-extended hand and grunts. "Lenore," the woman says, giving Rose's hand a brusque shake. Lenore then clambers out of the chest and makes her way across the tent, where she's spotted her gear tossed into the corner. She's snatching up her shield and warhammer, one in each hand, grumbling angrily to herself, when Veldyn enters the tent with his captive.
Slowly, Natah climbed out of the tree she had been hiding in. Now that battle was over, her body remembered just how cold she was, and began to shiver violently again. Finally, she entered the camp and sadly eyed the now cold campfire. Ssso much for warmth, she grumbled as she entered the other tent.
"They stuffed you in a box?" He asks, looking from the dwarf to the box she crawled out of. He then glares down at the captive he has before lifting him and dropping him into the chest. "I'll be back with the captain," he adds, leaving the tent to snatch up Rivvil's captive.
“Damnit, I’m still the shortest,” Rose swore in gnommish. “You know, I had high hopes for you.” She quickly switched back to common “So, what did you do to get stuffed in a box?” The bard asked.
Veldyn retrieves the captain and walks him over to the tent. Upon entering, he deposits him on the ground with a kick to the back of the knee. "What is your purpose out here? Who do you work for? And who is this?" He asks, pointing to the dwarf. Veldyn closes the chest with the second captive and leans atop is nonchalantly, waiting for the captain to give his answers.
Lenore utters a few more hearty dwarven curses. But she gives Veldyn a long look up and down as he gives his captive her former place of honor. After a second, she nods in reluctant approval. Switching to common, she scowls daggers at the captain. "Let's ask him," Lenore replies to Rose. She hefts her hammer as she adds, "Nicely or not nicely. Either way works for me."
He growls and spits on the ground. "Some runaway. Mercer, our leader, ordered us to capture her before she escaped. Thankfully, she was dumb enough to use the roads, so setting up an ambush ahead was easy." He turns his head back and down, trying to address the figure behind him. "This is the border. We monitor incoming traffic and don't let anything through. Easier to keep Noltengarde quiet and dark that way."
"So you're blocking traffic to Noltengarde," Veldyn muses. "To what end?" He glances over at the dwarf for a moment, wondering what she was doing out here in the first place.
He shrugs with hands bound. "Not sure entirely. Probably to keep word from spreading that Noltengarde was taken by us."
Veldyn nods at the news, looking over to Rose with a glance. "Who commands the occupation?" he asks. "And by who I need more than a name. Tell me of him."
Rivvil has been standing there looking at the captain just to make sure he isn’t lying to our face.
When the captain calls her "dumb," Lenore's face darkens. She grips her hammer more tightly and leans forward. "I can vouch that they've taken Noltengarde," she says. "The rest of my... adventuring companions are being held there. When they caught up to me, Mercer was the name they said they were taking me to."
"You call yourselves agents of New Luskan," Veldyn adds. "What pirate king do you serve?"
He shakes his head, growling at the phrase. "I don't know and I don't care," he spat out. "Mercer's Luskan, but as far as I know, the rest of us are Neverwintans fed up with the war. Deserting is treason, but we were done fighting, so we ran rather than face the noose or axe. All I know is he's got agents within the Neverwinter militia that'll get you here if you've got the coin and ask the right questions."
Veldyn stands from the chest. "So nothing more than brigands choosing one leader over another," he says. "Tell me about your necromancer. We saw his work not far from here."
"Just soldiers looking for respite, carving out a place for ourselves in an unforgiving world," he counters before his face pales slightly and he shudders. "The black dwarf. Orm-a-somethin'. He's Luskan too, and far worse than Mercer. Mercer... you can talk to Mercer. He'll engage with you. The black dwarf keeps to the shadows, creeping around at night, and locks himself behind his undead underneath our keep."
Upon entering the other tent, Natah found herself looking at the face of a dead man, laying on a cot. His face was a mask of blood, and his body was littered with long, deep gashes. Seeing that he was wearing a Neverwinter tabbard, Natah began to formulate an idea. She removed the tabard from the body, and stuck her head into the other tent, getting Veldyn's attention. "Take the tabbardsss. We can ussse them." She pulled the cloak around her tightly, her eyes pleading with him. "We need to ressst, get dry and warm."
“A back dwarf that keeps to the shadow.” Rivvil says as he takes the captains shield for his own. “Does the sunlight hurt his eyes?” Rivvil asks putting some pieces together in his head.
Veldyn nods to Natah. "We're just about done here," He says, returning his attention to the captain. "The group back there had the markings of Hannock militia. One body was missing, that of Sir Toldine's son. What do you know of his whereabouts?" Veldyn asks.
The captain shrugs. "Don't know. The dwarf hardly acknowledges us, and it's smarter to keep our distance. Anyone who can cause the dead to walk again should be a concern."
Natah nodded back, and turned to leave, spotting the female dwarf. Confused, she gave the dwarf a nod, then said, "I'll be in the other tent, trying to warm up." Giving the dwarf another look, she finally turned and left, heading back to the other tent, where it was less crowded, and much dryer.
"Don't know anything about anyone's son but... there was a skirmish a few weeks back with some soldiers. The dwarf was visiting this area for some reason and took care of them. He decided to keep one or two alive for some reason... May Ilmater have mercy on their souls... if they still have 'em."
"You've been helpful," Veldyn says. "Whether or not you've told us the whole truth, I'm not sure it's enough to spare your life. Do you have anything else to add?" He asks, resting his hand on his sword's hilt.
His eyes widen slightly. "Look... I've got no loyalities... to anything really. I'm jus trying to survive. I'm dead or worse if I return to Mercer so..." He thinks for a moment before adding, "Give me some charcoal and hide. I'll draw a map to the keep so you can meet Mercer himself."
Veldyn calls out outside. "Grishkar! Give us a hand, will you?" He looks the captain up and down before adding, "You've yet to meet Grishkar... I imagine he could be as terrifying as your dwarf friend. But I'm sure he's got parchment."
“Why don’t you tell us more about the keep? It’s defenses, where things are kept, you know stuff like that. Maybe that’ll be enough to allow you to keep your life.” Rivvil says.
A dwarf with a canoe on his back? What could go wrong?
A pair of hands is thrown onto the tent. The work is clumsy, the result of hands unaccustomed to the tools at hand. Behind them enters a bloodstained elf in a black robe and deep hood. A strange blackness covers the opening of the hood, obscuring his face. He squats before the captain, face-to-abyssal-darkness, and produces a sheet of parchment from his sleeve along with a large ink vial. Strangely, the vial is slick and sticky; perhaps there was a leak in the seal? The ink is difficult to discern in the dim light, but it is a lighter shade than typical scribe's ink. "Let's begin with this." He mutters, his voice dripping with unspoken bargains, unfulfilled promises, and broken contracts.
As other individuals gradually filter in and out of the tent and the questioning continues, Lenore watches and listens with narrowed eyes. She studies each figure as best she can under the circumstances. After a few seconds of silence following Grishkar's dramatic entrance, she chuckles. "Well. Safe to say ye ain't no sunshine brigade of do-gooders." Oddly, this seems to put Lenore at ease, as she returns her shield to her back and her Warhammer to her belt. Turning to the plain leather pack on the ground which is evidently also hers, she fishes around for her waterskin.
"We have our moments," Veldyn replies. "Care to tell your story?" He asks the dwarf. "What your group was doing out here, to start, and how exactly you ended up getting on this... Mercer's short list."
Lenore takes a long slug from her waterskin. When she speaks again, her voice is a little less gravelly. But only a little. She considers Veldyn for a long moment, has another quick glance at everyone else in the tent, and grunts. "I suppose you've heard of the Zhentarim?" The way she asks and the little lift of her eyebrows indicate she's asking a question inside the spoken question.
Veldyn nods. "You're free to join us, sister," he says simply. "Might you know the whereabouts of Aliss Fafstern? She's a young, female human with auburn-brown hair and greyish-green eyes. A single prominent, dark freckle dots the upper-crest of her nose, easily distinguishing her." He points at his nose as if detailing the location. "She's failed to check in."
“We’re part of the Zhentarim as well. We’re here on a mission. Are you also here on a mission?” Rivvil pipes up to the dwarf.
Veldyn glances at Rose, "Plus one." He says. "But she's earned her place, and then some..." After a moment of silence as the captain continues drawing his map, Veldyn says, "It takes a stupid man to make enemies out of the Zhentarim. I feel like we need to send a message to Mercer." Rose waves at the mention of herself.
Lenore glances toward Rose and almost smiles belatedly notices Chewie and does a double take, and finally returns her attention to Rivvil and Veldyn. After a ponderous moment of deliberation, she shakes her head. "No information on Aliss Fafstern here. Weren't with us. These arseholes took out two of mine..." She glances toward Veldyn. "...two of ours. Third declined to join us in escaping. Maybe that he's dead now, too."
"Four of us were assigned to Noltengarde. About the same as you, I suppose. A little bit of a shakeup in the town government shortly before we got there, unfortunately." Lenore says.
The captain's face pales even further as he stares into the abyssal darkness. Shakily grabbing the sheet of parchment and quill, he dips the quill in the strange ink and begins drawing a crude map of their current location versus Noltengarde versus Mercer's Keep. Markers indicate several prominent landmarks in between Noltengarde and the keep with a dotted line connecting them all. After a few minutes, he finishes. Presenting the map to Grishkar, averting his eyes from the necromancer's person. "Here it is. The keep is built atop a hill consisting of three cliffs. A winding path wraps around until you reach it."
“Now will you be a good boy and tell us about the keep's defenses. How many? Arrow slits? Traps? I know you know something.” Rivvil adds with a smile.
He's silent for a moment; his face set in stone. "WIll you let me go tonight and promise no harm will come to me by any of you?" he asks. "If yes, then I'll tell you."
Listening to the ongoing interrogation, Lenore takes another long slug from her waterskin. Then she turns away and spends a few moments wiping her maltreated warhammer clean, muttering a quiet prayer in dwarven as she works.
Veldyn closes his eyes for a moment. You had to make demands... didn't you? He nods over to Rivvil and exits the tent, leaving the captain with Grishkar and the half-drow.
Outside The Tent
“Vel,” Rose follows the human out of the tent. “Listen, I really don’t want to go to Noltengarde proper.”
Vel looks down at Rose. "Want to tell me why?" He asks, the rain drenching the two of them as they talk outside.
“Remember when we first met?” Rose looked at the ground sheepishly. “I have a funny feeling Chewie and I are going to be on a lot of wanted posters.”
"From the sounds of it, Noltengarde is supporting these brigands. We have no reason to go there... our eyes are set on the Fort, but afterwards, we may need to stop there to snag the Dwarf's contact." Veldyn thinks a moment, "By that time we'd have cut the head off of the snake, and our demands will be met. You should have no problem there."
“You’re talking about fighting Mercer, who is such small change compared to the person I’ve pissed off that I’ve never even heard of him,” Rose said skeptically. “I’m fine going to the fort, I just... wanted to warn you ahead of time.”
Veldyn nods. "We'll have to learn more. If the dwarf woman you saved came from Noltengarde, she might be able to tell us more about the 'change of management' that took place." Veldyn looks at the barricade that blocks the road. "I'm going to move these..."
“Would you like some help?” Rose asked.
"I would," Veldyn responds with a grin.
“Great, because I am the best at heavy lifting,” Rose winked.
”Do you hear the captain scream? Singing the song of Zhent torture? It is the music of deserters Who will not cause harm again! When the beating of his heart Slows to a kind of silent stop We will know where we need to start And the men will drop! Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade Is there a world you long to see?” Rose sang softly.
Inside The Tent
“Oh, what a dumb man. Let me tell you how this works. You answer the questions we ask truthfully, believe me, I’ll know if you’re lying, then because you’re kind of cute you spend a night maybe more with me and if you’re good then we’ll see what happens from there. If you’re boring then Grishkar can get you. Of course, if you’re just going to make demands then I guess there’s not even a chance for you to live.” Rivvil explains to the man.
The captain looks up to Rivvil confused. It takes him a moment, but then he sees it. The wild-eyes as Rivvil looked him over. He shuddered and then let out a sigh. "So... that's how this is going to be then?"
Grishkar waves a hand over his illusionary mask, causing it to fade, "You can always tell us what we need. The only difference between conversation and interrogation is the number of things done to someone."
“Yeah pretty much. Like I said don’t bore me and we’ll see how long you live. Don’t worry this won’t be forever. I have my eyes on a greater prize but you’re a fine substitute, for now, that may get to live.” Rivvil says with a grin and the quickest of glance out the tent.
He shudders and casts his eyes down. "I'll give you one night to do whatever you wish with me. But more than that and I'd rather hang myself," he says with a defeated voice.
Rivvil sighs before saying “He’s not going to talk. And I’m not interested in a disinterested partner. He’s all your to do as you wish Grishkar.” Rivvil says as he exits the tent.
Grishkar beams his wide, unnatural smile at the captive captain and takes a seat nearby, "Now that we're in a more intimate setting, I'd like to talk business. You've heard of the Zhentarim, yes? Well, congratulations, you've tasted our power. However, you can serve as a messenger in more ways than a corpse on the road. Interested?"
The captain groans, but spits at the ground. As Grishkar towers over the kneeling figure, he spots the quick and deft work of a tiny knife in his hands viciously cutting through the ropes.
Back Outside The Tent
As Veldyn is pulling the barricades aside with the help of the mighty Rose, he sees Rivvil exit the tent. "Done already?" He asks. "Get em talking?"
“No. He wouldn’t budge so I’ve left him with Grishkar. Maybe he'll get something out of it. So, what are we doing for shelter tonight.” Rivvil says seeing the two dismantling the barricade and he decided to help them so it goes by a little faster.
As time stretches on, Natah wraps the cloak around her, and curls up on the floor of the tent, not wishing to touch the dead body. Laying there, shivering in the dark, she finally fell asleep, listening to the sounds of raindrops on the roof of the tent.
"Wait... does he know there's a second person in the chest in that tent?" Veldyn asks.
"I don't know. Probably not. Maybe he'll be more talkative after he hears what happened to his captain." Rivvil says.
Grishkar noticed the knife before it was too late, grabbing his staff and barking an arcane command. With a flourish of his hand and staff, a brilliant flash of color sprung forth and blinded the captain. He turned and left yelling, "What a shame! Rivvil! Veldyn! He could've had everything, but he chose death. Time to play!"
Upon hearing the commotion behind her, Lenore turned and took in what had happened while she wasn't looking. She shook her head, sighed, and bent to retrieve the errant knife from the captain or wherever he dropped it. Addressing the captain with her very dwarven pragmatic voice, she said, "Well, that was stupid, wasn't it?"
Once he saw reinforcements were on the way, Grishkar re-entered the tent, "Yes, yes it was," he drew his own dagger and placed the point on the captain's shoulder, in line to drive straight to the heart. "Let's try this again: We are the Zhentarim, and we are here on business to Noltergarde. You have proven a level of competence, so I'm willing to discuss opportunities for empowerment. Maybe you'll even get to join the family?"
Grishkar then turned to Lenore and Rosie, "Please open the chest, but keep the...contents under guard." Back to the captain, he demanded, "Now, about this dwarf necromancer: let's have some details. You say you know nothing about him, but I know details are sometimes found without knowing. Tell me of the times you encountered him. Where, when, who was there, what did he do, did he have any minions, where does he reside...?"
While the fear of death kept him on the ground, the potential promise of life got him to respond. The sobbing died down after a few moments, giving him breath to respond. "I... I've met him a few times. Always at night or during a storm. The only person I ever see him with is Mercer. He doesn't speak to anyone else, and anyone who presses him seems to shrivel and decay at his touch. There's one entrance to the lower levels of the keep, which is where he comes and goes from, and only he comes and goes. Not even Mercer goes down below."
"Good," Grishkar beamed, "Then you're taking us there. I can't have competition, you see."
The captain sighed, taking a few deep breaths as his vision fixated on the floor. "Very well."
Stripping the man of his armor, his binds were rechecked and he was more thoroughly searched before he was tossed into the chest with the other prisoner. Trapped and secured under the padlock, the group took to the dead guards' sleeping arrangments, falling asleep to the rain which eased up its relentless pounding as the dark and cold night wore on. The group took careful watch, constructing crude arrangments to watch the roads while keeping themselves out of the worst of the rain.
By morning's light, the rain had all but ceased, leaving a pale comparison to the relentless torrent which barraged the earth with waves of water just the night previous. Frost adorned whatever surface it could cling to as Auril's breath blew throughout the encampment, the clearing in the forest acting as a natural funnel for her harsh breath to slip through. Most had lost feeling to their toes as the night grew darker and darker before growing brighter and brighter, their soaked leather boots and wet socks sucking away any heat their bodies produced. They eagerly started fires, running about and doing whatever they could to bring feeling and warmth to their bodies, leaving their wet clothing and armor by the fire to dry. Within a few hours of waking, the slow drizzle of rain had ended, their clothes had dried, and their bellies were full of dried bread, salted pork, nuts, and various berries native to the surrounding countryside.
Flashback From Rivvil and Rosie's Watch Last Night
“Hey, Riv,” Rose approaches the half-drow, Chewie in tow. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. Wished that captain was a little more compliment but.....” he says as he puts a feather in his book before closing it.
“You actually got way more out of him than I expected, so congrats,” she shrugged. “Whatcha reading there?”
“Oh....its...its just a little something my mentor gave me. Though it’s difficult to read.” Rivvil says clutching the book close to himself.
“What was your mentor like?” Rose asked curiously. “Sorry if you feel like I’m prying... I’ve been on my own for a while, it’s nice to be around people again.”
“No. I get it. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone about my past. It’s not exactly the happiest.” Rivvil pauses for a moment, thinking about something before finally speaking up again. “I like you gnome. You remind me of the few I saw down where I lived. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you a little bit about my mentor and my life and then you tell me a little bit about someone important to you and your life. And then for each question you ask me about my life I get to ask you a question about yours, deal?” Rivvil offers.
“Deal,” Rose grinned. “I’ll even let you go first.”
Rivvil chuckles. “Of course. Now, where to start?” He pauses for a moment before saying “His name is Dizvar. He is a drow consort mage to one Jezfaere.” As Rivvil says Jazfaere he does a slight spit after the name almost like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “She was my enslaver and the one who ordered my training to be a bodyguard. But I don’t want to talk about her. Dizvar was the one who took care of me. He was the one who risked his life sneaking food to me, making sure I didn’t die from infected wounds, got me out to the surface when she ordered to kill me, and was the one who taught me everything I know about my abilities. Where I’m from the arcane magic is the lowest form of magic there is and the only form that a male is allowed to study. However, Dizvar didn’t believe that. So he began researching about a higher form of magic, blood magic, the kind of magic I do. He taught me the basics and I was the first one he knew who could successfully do it. This book I have is his research. All of it. He gave it to me as he was helping me flee the Underdark. I hope to master everything in this book and one day return to the Underdark. Show Jezfaere what a male half-drow can do. And repay the only person down there to show me kindness.” As Rivvil has been sharing his story he’s kept his head down and hair covering his face. However, once he is done he looks back at the gnome and she sees an intensity in there that she has never seen in Rivvil before.
“Wow, that’s-“ Rose took a deep breath. “Would you like a hug?”
“What’s a hug?” Rivvil asks.
Without waiting for permission, Rose threw her arms around Rivvil and squeezed him tightly. "This is a hug."
Rivvil tenses up at first, not knowing what to do. Eventually, he gingerly puts his arms around the gnome and gives the smallest of squeezes. “This is nice.” He says. “Drow don’t do this.” After the hug eventually ends he says “I’m sorry if it was a little....intense. That’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone about my past. Normally telling them I was trained to be a bodyguard is enough and they don’t ask any more questions.”
“I’m glad you shared, and I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share with me,” Rose makes no movements to the end the hug. “What you went through sounds truly terrible. I knew drow were kind of *****, but I had no idea just how bad it was.”
“Yes,” Rivvil says. The uncomfortableness of talking about himself continues. “So, little one. I think you owe me a little tale about yourself.” He says hoping to shift the focus off of him.
“Ask away, what would you like to know?” Rosie says.
Rivvil hesitates at first. He’s unsure if he should ask this but he decides he wants to know. “Tell me about who raised you. Tell me about your parents.”
“Can’t tell you what I don’t know,” Rose looked down at the ground. “I was found at the gates of an orphanage when I was a newborn. Raised is a generous term,” she laughed nervously. “The city didn’t fund the orphanage well, and they never had enough food for everyone. As soon as I was old enough, I took to the streets. I could get way more food picking pockets and begging, and someone younger needed my bed.”
Rivvil let’s out a light chuckle before saying “Well that’s something we have in common. I don’t know my real parents either. All I know is my mom was a slave, probably dead now, and my dad was one of the male drow working for Jazfaere.”
“I’ve never really cared for finding them,” Rose smiled up at Rivvil. “If they didn’t want to get to know me, then why should I want to get to know them, you know?”
“I guess that makes sense.” Rivvil reaches down to pick up Chewie and put him in his lap. “Your turn. Ask your question.”
“Why did Jazfaere order your execution?” Rose asked. Chewie, who barely fit on Rivvil’s lap, licked at the half-drow’s face happily.
Rivvil just smiles at the puppy but moves him so he the half-drow could actually speak. “Because half-drow aren't supposed to exist. In drow eyes that means that the highest of all life forms slept with the lowest of the low. And someone saw me. And then rumors started that I was her son. And rumors can be enough to ruin your status in drow society and have you tumbling down to the bottom of the power rankings. So, she decided to have me kill in order to squash the rumors.”
“Garl Glittergold’s knickers, that blows,” Rose shook her head. “Your childhood really sucked. Would you like another hug?”
"No. It's fine. At that point its what I came to expect." Rivvil is silent for a moment before saying "Okay my turn. Who taught you your magic? It's so different than almost any magic I've seen. Your words carry so much power. Someone must have taught you how to do that."
“I taught myself, mostly,” Rose replied. “A lot of it is innate. If I thought of a picture, I could always just make it appear. As a kid, I found out buskers could make the most money. I stole a lute and kept practicing until I got good. Then, one day while I was on the run from some... bullies, I made their ears bleed just from taunting them. It’s been a bit of a journey of self-discovery, mostly.”
"Interesting. No one to guide you. So, that means even you don't truly know how far your magical powers go or what they can do." Rivvil ponders aloud.
“As long as they keep me from getting into more trouble than I can handle, I’m good,” Rose played with a minor illusion of her namesake. “My turn: why did you join the Zhentarim?”
"That's easy. They offered me a way to gain power and influence on the surface without asking too many questions. As long as I show results that's all they care about. It's actually nice for someone with nowhere else to go. Maybe you can join if you want to." Rivvil says.
“I’m not one for organizations,” Rose fidgeted nervously. “More of a lone wolf,” she chuckled. “Plus, I don’t think they’d want me either.”
"Believe me. They want you. They wanted me and I'm a crazed half-drow who uses his own blood for magic and is slowly getting more and more sex crazed and I have a problem with women due to being tortured by one for a majority of my life. I think they'll take the tricky gnome who can make people's ears bleed simply by insulting them." Rivvil counters.
“You think I’m tricky?” Rosie asks.
“Yes. You hide in combat and attack from a distance. You're tricky. It’s not a bad thing.” Rivvil explains.
Rose beamed. “Tricky is a compliment, so thank you. Also, between you and me, you’re pretty impressive too. The Zhents taking you was a calculated choice, trust me.”
“Thanks. My turn. What do you think of the others?” Rivvil asks
“You all are a right weird bunch,” Rose looked at the ground. “Chewie likes you and Vel, which is good enough for me if I’m being honest. I think you don’t know what you’re doing, and I’m worried you’re going to turn on each other at a moment’s notice. Which is incredibly shortsighted, because I can also see how powerful you are. I think you have potential.”
“I think the turning on one another is almost behind us. At least for me. I won’t turn on Veldyn. I’ve learned a little bit about him from Godiva and I appreciate him and his ambitions more now. Natah and Grishkar I’m still iffy about. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust a full elf completely. And Natah reminds me a little too much of Jazfaere.” Rivvil says, liking the back and forth more and more.
“And me? What do you think of me? Other than that I’m tricky, obviously.” Rosie asks.
“I already told you I like you. I think you’re fun. And probably the only one I could tell all this too right now. Well, maybe a little bit of it to Veldyn but only the impressive parts.” He says with a chuckle.
“The parts that make you sympathetic aren’t bad either,” Rose added. “If you’re trying to make him like you more. Guys like being able to take care of you.”
“Do they? Where I’m from the stronger you are the more desirable you are. Honestly, I don’t even think he likes me outside of my usefulness in a fight.” Rivvil chuckles some more “Sometimes I think I only like him because he reminds me of Dizvar. They both have that determination to show the world that they’re is more to them than they think.”
“If you appear too strong, people tend to think you don’t need them, and then they’ll leave you be. In my experience, showing someone, especially a man, that you require his help is a sure fire way to get him to like you,” Rose explained. “I don’t know what he thinks of you, but anyone would be lucky to have you, as a friend or a lover.”
Rivvil just smiles and waits for Rosie’s next question.
“What do you want? From life, for your future,” Rose asked. “What are your goals.”
“Right now my goal is to gain enough power so that one day I can return to the Underdark and get revenge on Jazfaere. After her, I want to disrupt the entire drow culture. So that nobody else goes through what I do. After that, I don’t know.” Rivvil answers
“Well, I’d love to help you stick it to that *****,” Rose smiled. “The enemy of my friend is an enemy to me.”
“We’ll see but, I want to kill her myself,” Rivvil says before looking up at the night sky. “It’s getting late. Last set of question for now. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Rose smiled. “I am glad I got to know you a little better. A lot of things make more sense now. What’s your last question?”
“What really is Chewie? I’m so confused. I thought he was some soul devouring thing but he doesn’t seem like it. Nobody else is scared of him. Is he really just a puppy.” Rivvil asks petting said puppy.
“He really is a puppy, just not a normal dog,” Rose replied. “Four months ago, I was traveling through the woods and I found him. Some hunters had killed his mother, the rest of her pack had probably left her to die. I was just looking for some meat, but I found Chewie and three of his siblings underneath their dead mother. Only Chewie had survived. He was so little his eyes were still closed, I couldn’t leave him,” Rose tightened her fingers into Chewie’s fur. “Normally, people keep dogs as pets. Chewie isn’t exactly a dog, more like a distant, wild cousin of one.”
“So, he won’t devour my soul?” Rivvil says hesitantly.
“No,” Rose laughed. “No canines have that power. Not even a special dog like Chewie. But, Chewie is more clever and more strong than your average wolf. He’s quite a good companion.”
Rivvil nods. “And your last question. This is your chance to ask me what you most want to know.” Rivvil says with a playful wink.
“What has been your most embarrassing moment?” Rose asked. “And don’t say faceplanting into the barricade, that doesn’t count.”
Rivvil sits there and thinks for a long time. He finally says “Okay. This was how I discovered I didn’t like women in the bedroom. I was with Dizvar and he was teaching me about the Demon Lords of the Abyss. One of them is Graz’zt the Demon Lord Of Pleasures, Sexual Desires, and Urges. He appears as the most handsome man you can imagine. Well, when I first saw him I immediately got an erection. Later when I was alone I was, pleasuring myself, to an image of him. And I wasn’t paying attention and then Dizvar walked in on me at the end of my...session. He later explained what this probably meant and then the dangers of it if I ever became a consort.”
Rose burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, I know that who you are physically endangered your life, but,” she stopped to giggle. “Underneath all of the life-threatening, manipulative drow shit, it seems so normal.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Rivvil says now laughing at the memory and how silly the entire situation was in terms of the big picture. “Rosie. This has been nice. Let’s do this again at some point. Now, I think it’s time for the others to take their watch.” He says standing up, after putting Chewie back on the ground, and gesturing for her to lead the way back to the tents.
“Anytime you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you Riv,” Rose smiled.
They both then made their way to their separate tents for the night.
Grishkar takes a more comfortable, amiable seat in the tent with the captive captain. With a snap of his fingers, candles and lanterns in the room spring to life, "Now then, the Zhentarim, as you may have gathered take very good care of those within its ranks and under its protection. Prove your loyalty and work with us, and I can assure you that you will never be without our shadow watching over you. There is strength in unity of purpose. Given my way, I would grant nothing short of absolute protection in return for fealty."
The night looked rough for both of the deserters as they lied in the cramped chest, using each other's bodies for warmth. Bullied out of the chest, the captain was brought to kneel before Grishkar as he began his merciful tirade. "And how do I show his fealty?" the captain asked plainly, his voice failing to conceal the fear within it.
"Let's start with this simple escort task. You may be called upon for further opportunities. Who knows? You may even be given underlings in time." Grishkar responds.
While everyone was removing clothing to dry by the fire, Natah refused, wrapping the large cloak even tighter around herself. This was a huge mistake, she thought to herself. I never should have agreed to do this. Refusing to leave the tent, she huddled in a corner, praying she would warm up, eventually.
Natah, can you come talk to me in private? Rose messaged her odd companion quietly. Rose was sitting at the very edge of the forest, brushing Chewy.
Reluctantly, Natah stood and exited the tent, making her way to Rose and Chewie. Crouching down, Natah huddled within the cloak. "Yesss?"
“Here, come with me,” Rose rises, motioning toward the forest.
Natah sighed and rose, following the gnome. "Why? What are we doing?"
“We’re going to have some girl-talk,” Rose replied cheerily. “Come on, I barely weigh 2 stone sopping wet. You could easily overpower me, I’m not going to murder you.”
"Girl talk?" Natah looked at Rose, confused for a moment, but quickly cleared the expression from her eyes. "Yesss. Sssure."
I wanted to talk in private, Rose messaged Natah once they reached a safe distance. If you whisper back, only I’ll be able to hear. Double security, so to speak.
Natah gave Rose another confused look. What exactly do you want to talk about?
The fact that you look and smell worse than Chewie after he plays in the mud, Rose smiled kindly. No offense meant, I just want to help you get some clothes that aren’t still soaked.
What? Natah asked, defensively. No! I'm fine!
I saw you shiver last night, you’re clearly not fine, Rose crossed her arms. How stupid would it be if you died of pneumonia after all of your adventures?
I... Natah frowned, knowing Rose was right. I have no other clothes.
I’d love to give you mine, but I doubt they’d fit, Rose joked. Listen, why don’t you strip here, away from everyone else, and let me take care of them for you. I know you always stay covered, but I don’t really care about whatever deformity you think is too horrible to show to the world. But, if it would make you more comfortable, I can walk back and have Chewie deliver the clothes back and forth. That way, even I don’t see.
Giving Rose an unsure look, Natah said, "I guessss that would be fine."
“I just want to help,” Rose shrugged. “Whatever you need.”
"I appreciate it," Natah said, grateful. "Thank you."
“Any time,” Rose smiled. “Want to hand them to me now, or use Doggie Delivery Service?”
Natah looked at Chewie, remembering how he had initially reacted to her, sure it would happen again. But what other choice did she have. "Doggy ssservice, pleassse."
“Alright!” Rose skipped back to camp, Chewie waiting behind and staring up at Natah expectantly.
Natah crouched down, getting face to face with the dog. "I know you and I don't... sssee eye to eye. That'sss fine. Jussst... pleassse promissse not to rat me out." Placing the cloak on a tree branch, she began to slowly disrobe, pulling off her wet clothes, and revealing her tan, shaded scales. Wrapping herself back in the cloak, she finally pulled off her hood and mask, revealing the last bit of her. "Pleasse, take thessse to Rossse," she said, her long, forked tongue slithering from her mouth. Chewie dutifully took the clothes in his mouth and brought them back to Rose.
Now naked and alone in the forest, Natah huddled under the cloak, feeling foolish. What if they don't bring back my clothes, she wondered. What if they find out?
After a few minutes, a voice pops out from the forest. "Apologies, I didn't realize this tree was taken," Veldyn says, heading to a different tree nearby to relieve himself.
Natah jumped at the voice. "Oh!" She huddled deeper in the cloak, pulling as much over her face as possible. "Yesss.... occupied.... Pleassse go away!" Panic creeped into her voice.
"S'ok," Veldyn replies. "I'll only be a moment." He sighs in content as he waters the tree.
Natah quickly shuffles behind a tree, keeping it between herself and Veldyn. "Can't... can't you do that sssomewhere elssse?"
"Can't stop after starting," he whines. "It hurts."
"Pleassse," Natah begged, leaning against the tree. "Go back to camp!"
He finally finishes, shakes a couple times, then buckles up. "Are you ok?" Veldyn asks, peeking over towards Natah.
"I'm fine," Natah said quickly. "Don't come over here!"
"Very well," Veldyn replies. "Enjoy the nature, we're heading back out soon." Veldyn then walks back to camp, whistling a tune.
"Uh.. before you go!" Natah called out as he turned. "Have Rossse sssend back my clothesss!"
Chewie returns shortly after Veldyn leaves, with no clothes whatsoever, to keep Natah company. "You're no help," Natah said to Chewie. "Veldyn," she yelled. "Are you ssstill there?"
"Yeah, I'll talk to her!" He calls back to her.
"Thank you!" Turning back to Chewie, Natah said, "Go get Rossse! Good boy? Get my clothesss?" Chewie remains planted firmly, only moving to roll over to ask for belly rubs.
"Go away, you damnable dog," Natah hissed. "Don't come back until you bring me my clothesss!"
Natah poked Chewie with her foot. "Pleassse, dog. Go get my clothesss. I'll... uh... give you a treat?" Chewie rolled over, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Fine," Natah sighed. She pulled the cloak around herself, and sat on the ground, next to Chewie. Sliding a hand out of the cover of the cloak, she put her hand on the dog. "I'll never underssstand the appeal of fur. Or petsss."
When Veldyn gets back to camp he stands by the fire and warms his hands. "I think Rose left Natah out in the forest nekked," he says with a grin.
“So impatient,” Rose grumbled, still working on drying the clothes. “I’m working on it.”
Rivvil just shakes his head. "I think it's best to leave her alone. You don't want to mess with a naked women. Trust me." Rivvil says with a knowing look.
Having spent the morning so far praying (Blessing of the Forge on her warhammer again), eating, and quietly observing her new companions, Lenore merely offers an amused snort.
Ten minutes later, Chewie perks up suddenly and makes a mad dash to the camp. A few seconds later, he returns to Natah, holding her clean and dry clothes in his mouth. Natah sighed with relief. "Thank you." She took the clothes from him and waited. "You can go now." Chewie doesn’t leave Natah’s side. "Go! Ssshoo!" When it was apparent Chewie wasn't going anywhere, Natah said, "**** this." She rolled her eyes and dropped the cloak. "You're a pain in the assss," she said while pulling on her clothes again. Chewie’s ears droop a bit at the comment, but he remains at Natah’s side.
Once fully dressed, Natah pulled her hood up and covered her face with her mask. Double checking that everything was covered properly, she said, "Now remember, we had an agreement. "Don't rat me out." She chuckled. "Asss if you could." Picking up the cloak, she brushed the dirt and leaves from it. Slinging it over her arm, she said, "Well, are you going to sssit there all day, or are you coming back to camp?" With that, she walked back to the camp. Once there, she walked up to Veldyn, and handed him the cloak, without making eye contact. "Thank you for loaning this to me." Chewie follows Natah back to camp, his tail tucked between his legs. As soon as he sees Rose again, he perks right back up and returns to her side. “Good boy,” the gnome murmurs, giving him a piece of jerky.
Lenore openly watches Natah and Chewie return to camp. Using the small knife she confiscated from the captain the night before, she cuts a piece from the salted pork she's eating. "So," she says, to no one in particular. "Sunshine in there, he always play with his prey?" She jerks her head toward the tent where Grishkar is having another "conversation" with the prisoners.
“We kind of took turns until we saw what worked. But, ultimately if the captives die he can make the most use out of the remains.” Rivvil answers as he is stretching out his muscles.
Natah sat at the fire, and eyed the bit of jerky Chewie was eating.
Veldyn hangs the cloak by the fire, letting it dry out. "I feel like we've gotten just about all we need from them," he says. "But tell me," he directs towards Lenore, "What was this about new management in Noltengarde?"
Lenore scowls and shakes her head in response to Veldyn's question. "Don't know much, I'm afraid. We were sent to secure trade. They ambushed us as soon as we stuck our noses into town. Took all four of us prisoners. Three of us made a run." Lenore shrugs, wipes the knife clean on her pant leg, and tucks it into her belt.
"So they ambushed you upon entering the town?" He shakes his head. "It seems they do have a firm grasp on it. Do you know who's running things there now?"
"Nary a clue." Lenore turns a little red in the face, like she's embarrassed to admit it. "Just know that this bunch said they were running me to this Mercer fella."
“Lord Eldurdine is the right bastard, and he’s the one in charge of the city itself,” Rose piped up.
Veldyn nods. "I feel we should circumvent Noltengarde, and go directly to this Mercer. If you want revenge for the damage they did to you and the rest of the Fangs with you, come with us. They'll pay for the damage they did to the Zhentarim."
“I second the idea of not going to Noltengarde,” Rose agrees. Veldyn sends a smirk Rose's way.
“I’ll follow whatever you think is best Veldyn. I’m relying on your leadership here.” Rivvil says though he seems a little awkward in expressing this thought.
Natah pulled her attention way from Chewies jerky, and looked at Lenore. "You're Zhentarim?" Her eyes widened. "Who were you traveling with," she asked quickly. "What were their namesss?"
Grishkar frees the captain and his lackey, then hurries to the exit, "Come now, we mustn't keep the family waiting."
Seeing all three exit the tent, Veldyn nods to the fire. "Get warm, we're travelling soon and it'll be best if you don't die on the road."
Lenore glances up at her former captors-turned-prisoners, pulls the captain's knife from her belt, and smiles at him as she tilts the blade back and forth. Then she uses the knife to cut another chunk of pork and turns her attention to Natah. "Bricio, Folke, and Ewis. Barely had time to know 'em, but they seemed competent." To Veldyn, Lenore adds, "I think it's in the Zhentarim's best interest to deal with Mercer, aye. Don't figure we'll get Noltengarde cleared out until we do. Teaming up seems to be the way to do it." Natah nods slowly, her eyes dropping to the campfire as if she were disappointed.
"Know any of the names?" Veldyn asks Natah. Natah shakes her head, indicating she doesn't. "Me neither. We'll be sure to mention them in our report," Veldyn states.
"Hmm?" Natah looked up, distracted. "Oh. Sssure." She stood, and quickly made her way to the tent they had slept in, to gather her belongings.
Lenore glances after Natah. "Just as well she don't know 'em. Folke and Ewis got crossbow bolts in the back. Don't imagine Bricio's fared much better. Guess he might still be alive."
“Well. Are we going to destroy this little camp and then make our way there. I think a nice trashing session is just what we need to get our blood pumping this morning.” Rivvil says, obviously eager to get on to the next fight.
“Don’t go trashing the whole thing just yet,” Rose objected. “There are some supplies we should nab.”
Veldyn nods, pulling his cloak up and swinging it onto his back. "Gather what you think is useful, destroy the rest," he says, kicking a stool into the fire.
Lenore tucks the knife back into her belt and stands. She's wearing scale armor with a crimson stole over the shoulders. An amulet hanging against her chest is shaped like a cog. Oddly, when compared to the obviously well-crafted warhammer she wears, the shield on her back is well cared for but very plain. She aids the others in turning the camp upside down for anything useful.
As the group dismantles the camp, Natah leans against a tree, filing her nails to maintain their sharp points. She stares into the forest, distracted. Rose is grabbing all of the food she can find and makes someone else who is not less than three feet tall carry it. At some point while they're upending the camp, Lenore wanders near Rose and clears her throat. "Thanks for ah, getting me out of that box. Little uncomfortable." Then Lenore helps Rose carry whatever Rose needs help carrying.
“Anytime,“ the gnome smiled. “You know, I didn’t get the name, Rosiniana the Savior of People in Boxes for nothing,” she gave the dwarf a wink. Lenore stares flatly at Rose for a second, blinks, and finally chuckles.
Scouring the tents, Veldyn leaves Natah's tent with a healers kit and what looks like a water skin full of wine. He drops both on the ground and starts to break down a cart. Under the cart is a large crate, opening it, he sees it's full of food; dried meat, sacks of grain, and vegetables. Looking at the lid, he sees the sign of Noltengarde. He lifts the crate and places it next to the other items. "Why is Noltengarde supporting Mercer?" He asks the captain.
Untied, the captain massaged his wrists and stretched. "Not sure. Mercer must've worked out some sort of deal with the good Lord. Or maybe the Lord just likes Luskan more than Neverwinter?" The other captive looked around, visibly anxious. "The names Dalton, by the way." He glanced to Grishkar warily. "If I'm uh... gonna be a part of this family, I figure you should know my name."
Veldyn offers Dalton one of his hands. "Lord Veldyn Steelspire," he says. "You'll be wanting to stick with us, as we're going to kill Mercer and his pet, we're going to visit Noltengarde, and Lord Eldurdine will be signing a contract to accept the Zhentarim's aide. If you live through this, we'll put a word in with the Zhentarim and you may have a chance to join one of the most powerful and successful guilds in the Realms." He eyes the captain for a few moments, "Does that interest you?"
"Steelspire?" Dalton repeated the name inquisitively. "The same ones from Neverwinter?"
Grishkar slides up next to Dalton and his underling, "More to the point, what is your plan for getting us to Mercer and this necromancer you spoke of? We can't be going in blind and off of your promises that we'll be delivered safe and sound."
The ex-captain straightened up rigid as Grishkar's creepy voice slid into his ear. He cleared his throat and then responded, "Yes... well... It was a little difficult to think of a proper plan while cramped with my good friend Jackmon in that chest last night. But we've got a day and a night and a day before we get to Mercer's keep, so I'll think extra hard on how to get you in." He flashed a weak smile, obviously harrowed by the necromancer in some fashion.
Having gathered supplies from the campsite the group has a wineskin full of a mysterious red liquid. “Let me see it. I’m pretty good at figuring stuff like this out.” Rivvil says. He then takes a better look at the liquid, smelling it and getting a good look at its color. Based on the color and smell he knows exactly what this is. “It’s a wineskin filled with a standard healing potion. It’ll be useful for the days ahead.” He says as he proceeds to attaches it to his belt.
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Much to Rivvil's dismay, the wood was soaked from last night's rain, making it difficult to light it ablaze. Still, the half-drow persisted, carefully tending to the underfires, making sure enough dry tinder was available to help the spark grow into a raging inferno. It took the better part of a half-hour, but soon the barricades which separated Noltengarde from the rest of the world stood ablaze in glorious, retributive light. The flame's reflection danced across Rivvil's dark eyes as he watched with gleeful satisfaction.
Once they were certain the barricades would burn fully, they set their backs to the warm flames and began down the wooded, wet road towards Noltengarde. Jackmon, the twitchy, fidgety underling to Dalton, continued to look about, peering into the forest, as if expected a charging boar or raging bear to appear from the thick underbrush at any moment and gore or maul him to death. Any attempts at conversation with the underling were cut short as he opened his mouth and let out a guttural moan, betraying the fact he had no tongue. Dalton was quick to explain the incident: Jackmon's tongue landed him in a rough spot a few years back when he was just a thug for the Night Crows, one of a handful of thieves' guilds and dens of debauchery and scum in Neverwinter. Some pompous freak had stormed their base of operations, swiftly dispatched of their ringleader, then proceeded to burn the whole building down. The resulting power vacuum cost Jackmon his tongue as several rose to try and grab the newly vacant position.
It was a bleak tale, but it helped pass the time as the group trekked down the road. The forest had cleared soon after they lost sight of the encampment as if it acted as a chokepoint for both the forest and road. The surroundings countryside was fairly flat; roving hills dotted the landscape for several miles, as did large clusters of trees which seemed to spring from the ground beneath them, like some ancient network of roots spawned from the heart of the wood, its tendrils reaching as far as the nutrients allowed. The open terrain allowed the group to see for a mile or so around them. Behind them, the smoke of the burning barricades rose briefly into the dreary sky, and far, far ahead, concealed behind a cluster of trees and hills, a similar plumage of smoke rose into the air. "Noltengarde," Dalton remarked, scratching at his shoulder.
And much closer, about a mile north, the group could spot something glistening in the brief rays of the sun, like a small wave of navy blue was surging towards them along the road.
Veldyn squints his eyes and waves away the flies that have gathered around. "Does that look like an army to you?" He asks.
“I can’t tell. It’s too far away. It just looks like a sea of blue.” Rivvil says as he’s not even paying attention to the army but is instead looking at the side of Veldyn’s face and his dark blue eyes.
Veldyn turns his attention to their two captives, "If you plan to join them," he says glancing over at the smoke rising from Noltengarde, "Now would be the time. Hell, I'll even promise we won't kill you for running. You can tell them a small group of five Zhentarim and an angry gnome are marching on the Fort. I'm sure they won't laugh before taking your heads for betraying Mercer."
Dalton chuckled. "When I cast my lot, I cast my lot... until something more favorable comes along." He points to the horizon. "That isn't welcoming," he glances to Jackmon, who seemed to look longingly at the wave of blue, "for any of us." Jackmon snapped back to attention, looking around at the surrounding environment.
Veldyn nods to Dalton. "You'll make a great Zhent one day, I think. But you do need to learn that loyalty has its rewards. We're a group of five, yes... backed by an empire that stretches throughout the realms. These hundreds of soldiers are impressive in this rural area, but they're pathetic in their paltry goals." Veldyn glances over at Jackmon, then over at Grishkar. "Jackmon can't talk, tis true... but his hands still work. Does he see the bigger picture?"
"Do you trust Jackmon, Dalton?" Veldyn asks. "Does he see the bigger picture, and can you guarantee his loyalty until this is done?"
Dalton looked over to Jackmon, whose eyes had gone wide in fear. He offered an indifferent shrug. "I did suggest killing all of them when you captured us. I won't guarantee anything beyond my own flesh and will."
In one fluid movement, Veldyn's longsword is out of his sheath and tossed to Dalton. "We can't have that," he says.
Dalton caught the longsword in the air with ease, bringing the blade around in a few arcs. He glanced over the Veldyn and the rest of the group, then into Jackmon's wide eyes. Jackmon had stayed while everyone else under his command had fled that night. He'd remained loyal, even as the darkness closed in all around them, blinding their eyes and sight. He held the point of the longsword to Jackmon's throat, whose eyes could only plead for mercy. The moment lasted for a minute before Dalton sighed and tossed the longsword back to Veldyn. "Looks like I'm going soft... His loyalty is on me."
Jackmon let out a throaty cry as tears came to his eyes. It seemed the man valued life just as much as Dalton.
Veldyn nods to Dalton, "If you can trust him, so can we. Lets move around the army. They're likely to capture Hannock, but we need to keep our eyes on the prize." Veldyn seems hesitant to continue, as his mind wonders to Godiva. His only hope is that he taught her well enough to survive... no matter the cost. He leads the group around the army before regaining the trail towards the Fort.
“If they capture Hannock, we’re ****ed,” Rose objected. “Right now its an insurgency. Maybe we can do something tricky and stop them. We’re trying to save Hannock, what’s the point of doing this if there’s no town left to save?”
“You’re the tricky one here.” Rivvil tells Rosie “If you’ve got something tricky say it now otherwise hope the barricade fire spreads and keeps them out.”
"There's little we can do to help them," Veldyn says, sheathing his longsword. "But if you want to warn them, the road is clear behind us."
Natah moved up next to Veldyn. She'd been quiet and kept to herself since leaving the camp, but now she stared at the shimmering blue that stretched out before them. "Thisss isss bad," she commented, shoving the blue tabards deeper into her pack. "We need to get to Noltengarde, we have multiple missssionsss we need to finisssh there." She pointed with a sharp tipped finger. "If we ssstay wide, ssstay low, do you think we can move around them?"
Thus far content to observe her new companions and their group dynamics, Lenore clears her throat. "Seems foolish to face 'em head on, certainly. And even if we somehow managed to save Hannock, how much good would it do if the person ordering that army is still around to send another? Of course... If we did somehow tail 'em to Hannock and managed to pick off just one of 'em, might be we could get some information about what exactly they're up to. And who they actually work for. Maybe we'd find another chatty one." Lenore cuts a sarcastic look toward Dalton. Then she glances toward Noltengarde and sighs like she's recognizing her mission there is good and failed at this point. "Although it does seem quite likely that army belongs to Mercer, at this point."
Grishkar stares blankly at Lenore as she elaborates her plan. When finished, he looks to the others and points to her, "I like this one," he states matter-of-factly.
Rose sulks towards the back of the group.
Lenore aims a flat look at Grishkar and, with an equally flat voice, replies, "I'm honored." Then she squints toward the distant sea of blue. Maybe it's because her eyes are sharp from fine metalworking, or maybe it's just because she's low enough to the ground to avoid the flies afflicting everyone else. But after a second, she says, "They're horseback, I think. I'm counting a dozen, at least."
Lenore squints a little harder. Then she stands a little straighter. "They're riding hard. That's no patrol. They'll be on us in two minutes, three if we're lucky." She backpedals a step toward the road's edge. "However we're planning to avoid being seen by 'em, I suggest we get to it."
"And away I go!" Grishkar exclaims. He leaps off the road, waving his hands in a flourish as an illusionary bush springs into life around his crouched form.
Seeing that their time was limited, Natah headed for the tallest bit of grass she could, pulling herself down as far as possible.
"Everyone huddle up," Rose sighs, scoffing at Grishkar's paltry attempt at an illusion. The others comply, and with everyone in place, Rose pulls up a silent image of dense foliage that covers everyone.
Rivvil gives an appreciating nod to the tricky gnome.
From the solitary bush nearby, Grishkar asks, "What was that about being racist for assuming gnomes know magic?"
Rose flips off Grishkar.
Grishkar's hand pokes out from his bush and waves to Rose.
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Tia Cabrera (Human Sorcerer/Wild Magic), Kingdoms of Magic: Tinseltown
Lenore (Dwarf Cleric/Forge Domain), Threnody of Neverwinter
The group concealed themselves in several locations. Natah dove for a tall patch of grass, using all of her training to keep herself hidden [natural 20 on Stealth]. Grishkar hid in an illusory bush along the side of the road. No more than a hundred feet away from him, Rose conjured a silent image of some dense foliage, and the rest of the group, including Dalton and Jackmon, took refuge within the illusion, hoping to wait out the band of soldiers.
A minute or so passed until they heard the rumble of the horses' hooves galloping along the muddy road. Grishkar reinforced his illusion, making sure it didn't glitch or fade while they road by. Soon, the brigade of soldiers was in sight. Fourteen deserters, dressed in polished armor and attire, Neverwintan tabards blowing in the breeze they brought with them, helmets glistening in the sunlight which slide between parted clouds, scabbards concealing their weapons of choice, and lances drawn high into the air, road past them. Grishkar felt the thundering hooves as the ground shook all around him, as mud splattered onto his face and robes as they road past... until one stopped. The lone knight slowed his stallion to a stop and peered at the dense foliage. Grishkar heard him begin to speak, to begin to utter some expression of curiosity before it was all silenced by a roaring voice from the front of the riders [Natural 1 on Investigation]. "WHAT IN ASMODEUS' NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, SOLDIER?!? OUR FRONTLINE IS BURNING AND YOU'RE GAWKING AT THE SCENERY ALL AROUND YOU?! FORM BACK IN LINE OR I'LL HAVE MERCER CASTRATE YOU AND THEN DROP YOU DOWN THE SHIT-HOLE THAT NECROMANCER-FREAK LIVES IN!!"
The captain of the riders drilled something into the soldier's head, who hastily whipped his horse into a gallop as the riders quickly took off towards the burning barricades. Minutes passed, but soon their forms merged into a wave of navy blue, their helmets glistened in the sparse rays of sunlight.
After they pass and are well out of sight, Veldyn stands. "That was a lot less impressive than I though it was going to be..." He says. "Well done, Rose! And it honestly lightened my heart that it wasn't the hundred-man army I thought it could be." He looks to Dalton and Jackmon, "I may have overestimated your boss.... but it's better than underestimating him. One leads to survival, the other to an early grave." He tosses the soldier his armor and hands him the heavy crossbow and bolts he took. "Lets go... we've got a couple day's travel ahead."
Rose shrugged at the praise, fading toward the back of the group with Chewie. Natah popped up from her hiding spot in the tall grass. She looked down the road, watching the where the deserters had gone for a moment, pleased they had bypassed the group. Quietly, she allowed the group to pass before following behind at a distance.
“Let’s. I don’t necessarily want to be back here once they find their barricade destroyed.” Rivvil says, opting to keep Dalton’s shield.
Dalton caught his old equipment and flashed a grin. "So... full trust, huh? I'll try not to live it down." He hastily donned the armor, strapping the bolts to his thigh and hefted the heavy crossbow over his shoulder.
Rivvil replies “No. Not full trust. I don’t trust anyone completely until I’ve seen you fight. And so far, I’m not impressed.”
He countered with a snort, "Vision is a far better weapon than a sharpened blade."
Veldyn assists the deserter with his armor. "I don't know what drove you from your service to Neverember," he states as he does. "But know that his time will come. Luskan has never gotten this close to Neverwinter before, and I believe the horrors you may have experienced are in part his doing." He tightens the back-strap for the soldier, "You'll see his fall if you stick with us."
He gave a curt nod. "I've got nothing against the old man. The city's grown under his rule. But this war is Beshaba's luck."
Rivvil chuckles a little at Dalton’s comeback. “Yes. I’m sure your vision was real clear while you were crying on the ground begging for your life.”
"I'm alive now, aren't I?" he mused with a wink.
“Not by my choice.” Rivvil says through gritted teeth.
Veldyn passes Rivval after finishing helping with Dalton's armor. "Oh... but didn't you leave the tent unsatisfied?" He asks with a sly grin.
"I may have left the tent unsatisfied. But me and Rosie had a pleasurable experience later that night that more than made up for it." Rivvil says before turning and joining Rosie towards the back of the marching order.
Lenore lets the chatter pass around her without comment. She walks toward the middle of the group, near enough to those walking behind to lend them aid if needed. As she walks, she frowns in deep thought. After a few minutes, she pipes up. "Their front line is burning, that's what he said. If he means the barricades, then they're not riding for Hannock at all. They came t' check on the fire. Which also means..." Lenore's steps slow and she glances back. "They may be coming back this way again. And wherever they came from may be not too far ahead of us. Possibly we'd be fools to keep tramping in plain sight along the road, like we've not a care in the world?"
"We need to find an alternate route," Veldyn says, pulling the makeshift map from his pouch. "Rivvil," he calls, waving the half-elf over. "Do you think you can navigate us around the town and to the fort?" He inspects the map before handing it to the bloodhunter.
Rivvil is conflicted. On one hand he’s angry at Veldyn. On the other he could really impress Veldyn with this. He decides after a second to take the map and inspect it and the surrounding area looking for an alternative route to the fort that goes around the town and in theory out of the riders way back after they take care of the burning barricade.
Rivvil looked at the map and then his surroundings. Dalton mentioned that Noltengarde was five or six miles from their current location, which would place it around the bend of some hills and trees far ahead. He took the group east, off the path and towards a cluster of hills to get a better vantage point of their surroundings.
“Follow me.” Is all Rivvil says as he leads the group on the course.
The trek was quick, only lasting a few minutes before they were within the safety of the hills. Navigating them until they reached a high point, Rivvil was able to plot a proper course. It would add an extra two hours to their journey he estimated, but it would keep them off the path as they hugged the forest line which surrounded Noltengarde on the east side, moving along the edge of the forest until they found the trail which connected Mercer's Keep to Noltengarde.
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During Travel
Once the group started moving again, Natah noticed Rose and Chewie lingering toward the back, not too far from her. Realizing she hadn't had a chance to talk to Rose since camp, she moved a bit closer. "Rossse?" She looked down a the gnome. "Could I ssspeak with you a moment?"
“Of course,” the gnome replied. “I’m always here. Anytime you need me.”
Natah gave her a nod. "I jussst wanted to thank you for helping me out back at camp. Sssome thingsss are... difficult for me."
“I know,” Rose smiled softly. “I don’t know why, but I just wanted to help you.”
"I really do appreciate it." Natah gave her another nod. "You too, Chewie."
“Chewie is quite good at following directions,” Rose patted her puppy’s head lovingly.
"Indeed," Natah said, smiling behind her mask. "We had a nice chat. He'sss a good lissstener."
“He’s the best listener,” Rose chuckled. “His advice on the other hand...”
Natah looked at Rose, slightly confused. "Advice?"
“His last words of wisdom to me were if a stick doesn’t fit into your mouth, than it’s not actually meant to be your stick,” Rose replied. “Which, actually isn’t that bad I suppose. Still, I was asking him what he wanted for dinner.”
Rose watched as Rivvil just march to the back and immediately just join in with walking next to her.
"You can talk to him?" Natah sounded rather upset by this fact, but quickly got quiet as Rivvil neared them.
Rivvil looks over at the two girls and then says "Don't mind me. If you want to talk in secret do that mind thing Rosie."
Natah cleared her throat. "Anyway, thank you." She moved away again. "I'll leave you to talk."
“I’ve had him since he was a newborn, of course I can talk to him,” Rose replied. “And please Natah, stay and talk.” Natah gave Chewie a worried look, but didn't say anything.
You don’t need to worry, your secret is safe with me, Rose messaged to Natah, in reference to her calculated slip. I don’t care what you look like on the outside.
Natah went wide eyed and looked at Rose in horror. She quickly dropped her gaze to the ground before her, her heart racing. Rivvil isn't really paying attention. He's trying to act like he is but is actually paying attention to the front of the group. How... no, never mind. I know how, Natah sent back to Rose. I... I... She sent a glance toward Rivvil. Why wouldn't you tell him? Tell everyone?
Why would they need to know?
Do... do you actually know anything about... my kind? Natah dropped her gaze once again, ashamed.
I tend to not judge people on the rest of “their kind.” You know, because that’s racist, Rose replied. So far, you’ve been an excellent ally, and that’s enough for me.
Natah took a deep breath. That's well and fine for... well, literally anyone else. But my kind... She paused looking to the front of the group, at Veldyn. My kind are deceivers. Devoid of emotion, and only wish to further their own agenda. We're usually killed when discovered. For good reason.
Are you planning on betraying me?
Regardless of what I tell you, Natah messaged back, looking Rose in the eye. I've been trained to lie. I've been trained to blend in. Even if I tell you I would never betray you, how could you ever trust me, knowing what I am?
I think you’re smart enough to not lie to me, Rose messaged back.
Or you'll betray my secret? Natah asked.
No, Rose replied. If you betray me, I’ll probably end up dead. I just think we’re better off working together.
Natah nodded. Everything, and I mean everything you know about me, must be kept quiet. You can't tell anyone. Even my own people would kill me if they found out about me.
Of course, I already said your secret is safe with me, Rose smiled. Would you feel better if you knew a secret of mine?
Is it a secret that could get you killed? Natah frowned.
If that’s the kind of secret you want.
Fine. Natah nodded at Rose. If you trust me with this kind of information.
I’m wanted by at least six lords, each one has a bounty on my head, Rose shared. Mostly for theft, but there’s a few counts of arson mixed in there.
Natah slowly smiled behind her mask. Six? What did you do?
I told you, theft and arson. Well, mostly.
Better than people wanting you dead for... well, what you are. Natah gave Rose a smile.
Yeah, I’m sorry people suck, Rose frowned. Well, I promise I only hate people for who they are, not what they are.
I appreciate everything you've done for me, Rose. Natah awkwardly placed her hand on the top of Rose's head. Kindness isn't something I'm used to.
Anytime, Nat.
A dwarf with a canoe on his back? What could go wrong?