As the group follows Rivvil through his new route, Veldyn makes it a point to fall back and talk with Rose. "Something about my decision seems to be rubbing you the wrong way. Are you having second thoughts on joining us?" He asks.
“I didn’t join you. I’m just traveling with you while our goals are aligned,” Rose replied. “And saving Hannock was one of my goals.”
"Joining as in travelling with us, of course." Veldyn thinks a moment before adding, "Why are you saving Hannock, and what are your other goals?"
“I’m saving Hannock because it’s the right thing to do,” Rose bit her lip. “The war between Luskan and Neverwinter doesn’t matter to the people caught in the middle. They, like me, just want to make sure they survive it.”
"And you see us, the Zhentarim, as a means to achieving that goal?" Veldyn asks her. "You know we're here for future profit, not for the survival of the people in that town. And your other goals as you travel with us?"
“I’m one person, and not a particularly big or powerful one at that,” Rose replied. “As a group, you have so much potential. That is, if you don’t murder each other in your sleep. If I can use your needs for future profit to help me with mine, I’ll be able to accomplish so much more than I would have alone.”
"And now we're travelling to a Keep on a hill surrounded by cliffs on three sides in an attempt to kill a bandit that has raised former Neverwinter soldiers under his own banner. You could be resting easy in Hannock as we complete this business, content in the fact that Zhentarim caravans are bringing food and supplies to the town." Veldyn grins, "But instead you're here with us, and the potential of death for one or all of us is high. I'm not going to assume it was my drunken invitation that brought you here. So what are your other goals?"
“The bandits aren’t exactly good for the region either,” Rose smiled. “And I’d be lying if I didn’t say this was the most exciting thing to happen to me in at least a week. But in all seriousness, I’m here so that you’ll trust me and stand by me when I need you later.”
“Need me for what?” Veldyn pushes. “You’re being quite evasive in your answers,” he adds.
“My dear, Vel, you’re going to have to be a little more forthcoming yourself if you expect me to trust you,” she gave the man a wink. “This is a two way street.”
Veldyn laughs, shaking his head at this game. “That was three times I’ve asked,” he says, “and you’ve yet to give me a straight answer. If it’s mutual trust you’re looking for, you won’t get it with subterfuge. I’ve never lied to you, but you seem intent on concealing yourself from me.”
“You want the truth, Vel? I’m a smuggler. I’ve made a living off of pissing off powerful lords and redistributing their riches to starving villages. There are at least two pirate captains from Luskan who would pay good money to have my head on a platter, but Lord Eldurdine has gotten closer to capturing me and Chewie than any other Lord. My ambitions have gotten the better of me, and now I’m terrified that if I go off on my own, I’m going to get caught and killed.”
"Name some of these Lords you've swindled," Veldyn responds. "House Steelspire has been around for generations, even if their presence in Neverwinter is much smaller than it once was. The name stretches from Baldur's Gate to Neverwinter, and all along the Sword Coast. So we still have influence... even enough to clear one's name."
“What’s the point, if I’m going to just to get another half dozen on my tail in the next year?” Rose shrugged. “Captains Rethnor and Taerl are the only two High Captains I have had direct dealings with, but there’s a possibility that the other three aren’t too happy with me. Then Eldurdine, who... I stole some priceless family heirlooms from before setting his house on fire...” The gnome cleared her throat. “That’s enough full honesty from me, it’s your turn now. Why is a pretty noble like you roughing it out in the boonies with us? And why do you care so much what my motives are?”
"Pretty, huh?" Veldyn says with a half-smile. "While other lords sit on their haunches and play war, I plan to right the wrongs inflicted to those less fortunate. But often times it takes the slaughtering of one creature to feed the hungry. I don't mind being the one that slaughters. And yes, I will do it tactfully so that my coffers and the coffers of my allies fill. I ally myself with the Zhentarim for my own purpose, as everyone does. But eventually I will rise through their ranks and I will have the power to challenge the mighty Lords that look down on others and move lives and raze towns for their own gain. That is my end game, and it can only be accomplished through the trust of allies like the ones we travel with. The ones that the Zhentarim can provide. If you think being hunted by a few lords is frightening, betraying the Zhentarim can bring agents from all over Faerun after you. That's loyalty enough. But you are an enigma in this group," he continues. "I don't know where your loyalties lie."
“Aw shucks, I’m flattered,” Rose winked. “My loyalties lie with me. I’m a survivor, and I put my neck and Chewie’s above everything else.”
Veldyn nods to Rose. "Those two captains are a dangerous pair to mess with," he says. "But a person whose loyalty only lies with themselves is just as hard to trust as a deserter whose loyalty is fleeting. I trust you, Rose, but if that trust is ever betrayed..." He shakes his head, "Don't betray my trust..." He says simply. With a nod he makes his way back to the head of the group with Rivvil.
“I’ll try not to!” Rose called after him. Veldyn can't help but smile as she calls out behind him.
Following Rivvil's lead, the group trekked through hills and forest as the day progressed into night. The forests here seemed older... more alive than those the group had previously ventured through. The trees stood tall, soaring into the sky, their bronze leaves filtering the light and casting dancing shadows across the terrain. Dead leaves crunched under their boots as they moved through the wild terrain. Birds chirped high above in the tree's foliage while chipmunks scurried across the ground, hastily picking up nuts and acorns for the cold winter to follow.
Rivvil brought them to the forest-line by the evening time. A few miles west of their position stood Noltengarde, surrounded by open prairie and light hills. The group could make out the plumes of chimney-smoke as they raised above the town, dissipating into the sky above. A solid wall of stone surrounded the town as far as they could see with multiple farms dotting the countryside, their waves of amber wheat shifting in unison like waves of a sea of gold as the wind passed by. It was cold, and yet the scene was peaceful, surreal even, as the sun dipped low into the horizon. Gone were the grabbing trees with branches hung low, choking the road just yesterday as they ventured north. Here, the forest was ancient, nestled just beneath the fuming inferno known as Mount Hotenow.
The group set up camp deeper within the forest, finding a dip between some hills that would provide concealment. They lit no fire, for the Neverwinter Wood was wild and filled with numerous dangers, and settled with gathering dried leaves and nestles to insulate their sleeping arrangements to provide them with heat. The night had long overcome the sky, casting the forest in utter darkness. The group fell asleep to the sounds of cicadas buzzing in the distance, the leaves high above flowing in the wind and began their watch for the night.
The night was cold and dark as Rose huddled within Veldyn's community-cloak for warmth. Chewie lay by her side, gnawing on a branch that fit his mouth perfectly, content with the temperature outside.
As she peered out into the darkness from atop the hill, she felt the cold bite of sharp metal press against her neck, drawing a little blood as a firm arm held her lithe body in check. The voice, feminine, seemed to dance with the wind as her hot breath caressed Rose's skin, asking, "Ya tul a e' amin taure?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Rose said very softly, raising her hands up to show she didn't have a weapon.
Rose heard the clench of teeth as the feminine voice asked again, "Mankoi caela lle been a' sina?" Chewie lifted his head up at the sound and looked over to Rose and the shadowed figure. A low-growl uttered from his mouth before it was immediately cut off as Chewie's head dropped into the leaves beneath him, snoring lightly.
"I know common," Rose replied in the language. "And I know gnommish," she switched tongues. "I'd like to help you, but I don't know what you're saying. Barring that, I can talk to Chewie. If you wake him up, perhaps we could use him as a translator."
The figure spit into the ground beneath her. "I hate this tongue. It sounds of orc," the female whispered, tightening her grip. "Why do you walk in forest?"
"Perhaps one day I'll learn a better language," Rose kept her voice low and soft. "We are on our way to rid this land of a blight. I've lived in forests all my life, and try to have great respect for them. I saved that dire wolf from a trophy hunter."
The female sniffed the air, twisting her head about. Rose felt twigs and leave brush up against her as the figure looked around. She whispered something into the darkness, and six figures, while difficult to fully observe, seemed to meld from out of the forest itself, converging on their location. One of them approached Chewie, caressing his head until the pup awoke, and Rose was able to make out the face of an elf, their skin and hair like that of the forest, covered in bark, branches, and leaves. His eyes were of a brilliant green which pierced the night. He began with a series of low barks and growls, to which Chewie responded in similar fashion.
"We will see if you speak truth, gnome," the female stated as she released her grip around Rose's waist, waving her hand in the air. The other five figures, like trees and bushes themselves, moved down the hill towards Rose's sleeping allies.
"If you can, I'd be happy to submit to a Zone of Truth," Rose replied softly. "Please don't hurt Chewie."
"You will submit nothing," the voice warned coldly as the knife dug a little deeper. The conversation between the elf and Chewie was short, lasting no more than a minute. Chewie's tail wagged at the end as the elf patted his head one more time. He gave a quick nod to the figure behind Rose who promptly released the knife from Rose's throat. "Animals are more trust than you and your people," she spoke softly as she got up from her kneeling.
"I'd have to agree," Rose replied. What did they say to you, Chewie? The gnome asked her puppy.
Asked why we're here. What we're doing. I told them why. They're very nice. he responded with a light ruff.
I’m glad you like them, Rose smiled. What did you tell them?
Save good people and kill bad people. The one's in a big castle. He seemed to know what I meant. he replied, sniffing one of the elves as they passed by.
Good boy, Rose gave him a belly scratch.
The elves circled around the encampment, watching the others sleep, like a pack of wolves might watch a herd of doe. With bows drawn, they all cried out loudly, howling into the night as glowing orbs of light circled the sleeping group overhead.
As the group dreamt or laid in trance, their dreams were interrupted by the sudden howling of wolves. The sounds rang out all around them, grabbing them from the dreamscape and tossing them back into reality. They awoke to dancing lights which circled overhead their encampment, bathing the area in dim light.
“Good morning, friends,” Rose said loud enough for everyone to hear. “These are our new buddies, the elves of the forest. Chewie has advocated for us, so let’s be civil.” Natah jumped up from her uneasy sleep, daggers at the ready, eyes wide. Veldyn rolls over and clambers to his feet, drawing his longsword from its sheath and tossing it aside.
He blinks and peers into the darkness around him. "Don't sound like elves," he comments. As Veldyn looked about him, he could make out several figures within the dim light. They appeared more like the forest themselves... as if a bush was given life and shaped into that of a humanoid. Bark, leaves, and branches adorned these figures, spun into their hair and apparel. He spotted the curvature of longbows, arrows knocked and ready to fly at a moments notice.
Dalton and Jackmon woke up slowly, but jumped to their feet as soon as they realized the situation. Dalton fumbled with his crossbow bolts, spilling them all over the ground. He cursed to himself as he looked around. "Wood-demons," he groveled, the adrenaline only just keeping him awake.
“They are not big fans of Mercer either,” Rose added.
Veldyn backs himself over to Dalton, putting a hand on his arm to steady him. "Keep your weapon prepared, but don't provoke them," he says.
" 'Don't provoke the ambush'. Brilliant, truly, brilliant." Grishkar sneered
"I imagine we'd be dead by now if they wanted," Veldyn says, glancing over to the grumpy necromancer. "What do they want?" He asks Rose.
Natah was frightened by this display. "Veldyn? Rossse? What'sss happening?"
“They probably want someone who speaks Elvish,” Rose joked. “But in all seriousness, they are protectors of the forest.”
The howling died down as the wild fey looked around, surrounding the camp. Beyond the darkness, a large beast strode through, rounding the crest of the hill and coming into view. A massive bear, crowned with antlers, strode into the midst of the group... and seated atop it was a weathered elf, his skin more bark than flesh, his hair more like vines than actual strands of hair. He called out with a ragged, yet strong voice, "We're here to decide if we should turn you into animals or not."
"That'sss not necessssary, isss it?" Natah looked around wildly, knowing they were outnumbered.
“Would I be allowed to pick which animal, if we go that route?” Rose asked. “Not that I think we’ll need to.”
The ancient druid chuckled. "Such a large request from such a small creature." He looked down at Chewie, sitting loyally at her side. I've heard you saved the life of that dire wolf at your side, so I'll grant you the choice."
Veldyn shifts back as the bear enters the camp, keeping his eyes roaming to the elves and their weapons. "How long will such an enchantment last?" He asks finally. The thought of being an animal forever did not appeal to him.
"No," Natah said, beginning to panic. "I've done nothing to dessserve thisss. I will not be made into a wild thing!"
“I think we’d all prefer to remain ourselves,” Rose said calmly. “Great one, as both Chewie and I have told you, we plan on ridding this land of a blight. Surely those goals align with yours.”
"This may work to our advantage," Veldyn counters. "If this is the help they offer, I say we take it."
Rivvil, hearing the surface elves, and knowing that they will kill him if he makes himself noticed stays quiet and tries to go unnoticed. Going so far as slinking into his sleeping bag.
Grishkar stands defiant at the elves' apprpach. To the leader, he meets the gaze and spits in Elvish, "Was ceates strange bedfellows. State your terms."
Please trust me, and let me handle this, Rose then messages both Rivvil and Lenore, the two other people she feels most likely to potentially get in the way.
Rivvil whispers back to Rosie Don’t let them see me or they’ll kill us.
I’ll try my best, she replied to Riv.
When the howling started, Lenore had wrapped her fist around the warhammer she kept beside her head. Standing even as she came fully awake, she followed her usual pattern of listening and observing, weighing the situation before taking action. She kept her grip tight on her hammer, but as little as she moved, she might as well have been a stone. The reply Rose receives from Lenore is the mental equivalent of a grunt of agreement to allowing Rose to continue negotiations.
Grishkar smiles deviously to Rose, then to the elves, "Why bother with masks and secrets? We're all friends, apparently."
Lenore gives Grishkar a sidelong look. Her grip tightens on her hammer, but this time she looks like she's thinking about whacking Grishkar across the backs of his legs with it. "Stand down, Sunshine," Lenore says in a gravelly but relatively placid voice. "We've a job to do. Don't foul it up by not knowing when to keep yer trap shut."
The world was coming into focus now, which seemed to skew Grishkar's sanity even further, "Yes! Yes, that's it. We have a job to do, and what was it our friend, Rose, said? That these elves were friendly? Well that means they're amicable to our cause. And why are they amicable?" The necromancer paces close to the surrounding elves, but keeps a bit further away from the antlered bear, "Because they have not been able to accomplish this mutually-sought-after goal. But that's why we're here, isn't it?! We're problem solvers, the executors, the keystone in a grand comstruction." With a flourished twist, Grishkar turns back to the lead elf, "Now that I have elaborated the nuances beyond death and any point of return, I ask again: What. Are. Your. Terms?"
Lenore watches Grishkar's dramatics, and her stoic dwarven face betrays the slightest dumbfounded expression. Leaning in Natah's direction, she grumbles sotto voce, "No one warned me he was a complete lunatic."
"Grishkar, shut your mouth, now," Natah growled.
The druid watched the group's antics, visibly amused at their interparty dynamics. "A lunatic indeed..." His face hardened as he strode closer to Grishkar atop his bear. In Elvish, he asked with a grim look, "Tell me, outcast. When you die, what do you think will happen to you?"
Everyone sees and hears some ruffling from Rivvil’s sleeping bag before the half-elf emerges in nothing but his underwear. He sighs saying “I was hoping you’d go away so I can continue sleeping but I don’t see that happening. And as much as I hate Grishkar I hate bullies more. The answer is the same as you. You become reincarnated in a hopeful attempt of getting closer to your goddess.”
Ignoring Rivvil, Grishkar addresses the Arch-Druid in Elvish, "I have seen the finality of death, stood on its doorstep," he leans in a bit, accenting his point, "and I've felt the sweet inticement to take that one....final...step." The silence hangs for a heartbeat before he shrugs, "But death is for the living and legends are for the dead. To put it bluntly, I do the former and create the latter. When some sorry prick comes and replaces me in the most fitting way, then I guess we'll see what happens then."
"Ssshut the **** up," Natah hissed.
Grishkar spins on a heel to Natah, "So be it, have it your way," with grandiose exaggeration, he makes his way to the border, waiting for the sentries to let him pass.
“Sit down,” Rose said, her words laced with vitriolic magic. “And please, stop acting like the largest idiot to ever come across my path.” (Attempted spell vs. Grishkar. Grishkar passes with a 20 WIS save)
The bear sniffed the air while Grishkar spoke and then roared in his face, raising up on its hind legs. The druid shouted something in Elvish as the bear came back down to all fours. In a flash, threw bows were drawn by three of the elves, their iron tips focused on Grishkar, with the remaining three brandishing their swords, moving on Grishkar.
The druid turned to the rest of the group, his face a visage of fury. "Who of you knew this tish'tokurl walked with the dead?"
Natah simply shook her head no.
“For those of you who don’t understand they’re taking Grishkar. They’ll kill him, and probably us as well, if he resists or we intervene.” Rivvil tells the group.
Natah quietly moved as far away from Grishkar as she could. Her daggers were still drawn but she was watching him instead.
“We all knew, but everyone here, save for me, was bound by a contract to work together,” Rose spoke up again. “Sometimes we must ally ourselves with lesser evils in order to rid a forest of the greater evils that plague it. Mercer and his keep pose a much larger threat to you, and we have sworn to banish them.”
Lenore shows no inclination whatsoever to get between the elves and Grishkar. She frowns at Rose's statement but keeps her peace.
Grishkar hand flashes to the inside of his robe lapel and a half-dozen metal tips jab at him threateningly. Undeterred, he produced a massive, leather-and-iron tome. Staring down the druid, Grishkar throws the book at the bear's feet, "Yes, I am touched by forces of death, and I embrace it willingly. I have felt power, and would do anything to attain it. Anyone that would bar me from this goal will be reduced to ash and those that stand with me will share in glory." His arms crossed, the necromancer stands defiant against the threatening mass, "Why do you need us? If you have such power and Mercer is your sworn enemy, why have you not scaled his walls and razed the keep? I believe our kind - my kind - is the secret to your success now. The greatest tree can be felled by corruption from within, yes? Let me be Mercer's corruption."
Lenore huffs and mutters mostly to herself, “That’s either brilliantly persuasive—or we’re all about to die.”
(Grishkar rolls for Persuassion in a life-or-death gambit of "Insult The Boss". Succeeds with a roll of 22)
The druid held his hand into the air, stopping the other elves' advancement. He grimaced, staring daggers at Grishkar, and then shifted his amber-colored eyes to the rest of the group. "You all will come with us immediately," he commanded, turning the bear around. The other elves backed away from Grishkar, but still kept their arrows knocked and swords drawn, surrounding the group.
“Let me at least put some clothes on.” Rivvil says as he begins dressing, attempting to go as far as his leather armor, and gathering his traveling supplies as quickly as he can. No need to piss them off any more he thinks.
As the elves move, Grishkar bows while sweeping his arm out with a twirl of his wrist, "After you,"
Veldyn took Grishkar's antics in stride. He was honestly curious if he could climb out of the hole he dug himself, but the first sign of one of the elves touching the necromancer and Veldyn would have pounced. Luckily it didn't come to that. "It's not smart to sleep in the nude when travelling, Rivvil," Veldyn says as he gathers his belongings and falls in line with the elves.
“It’s the only way I can get comfortable enough to sleep.” Rivvil says falling behind Veldyn after getting dressed and ready to go.
Natah started to comment, but quickly closed her mouth. No sense in adding to this conversation.
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
Prisoners, and yet not, the group falls in line behind the ancient druid and his fey-touched bear, surrounded by elves masked with wood and leaf, their bows drawn or swords in a tight grip. Dancing orbs of light floated above the group, only illuminating their immediate surroundings; just enough light for Veldyn to see without tripping over his own feet. It was hard to tell just how long they traveled: the dense foliage above blocked any hope of using the star's movement for guidance, and the elves were completely silent in their movement and language. With closed lips and heavy eyes from lack of sleep, they moved their feet through the forest, the leaves crunching beneath their feet and the wind blowing through the canopy above.
Eventually, the druid brought the group to a halt. They looked around them, peering at their surroundings. It all looked like darkened trees... until one of the flying orbs of light glanced by a tree and the group caught sight of a face, halfway concealed by the moss — a man as if screaming in anguish, frozen in wood. Looking up the trunk further, a wall of faces, carved like masks in the ancient trunk, rise before the group. Far above, the cawing of ravens is heard as the beat their dark wings, taking off into the night. As they gaze at the tree, the druid barks out, "Your weapons, outsiders. Only the chieftain may bear chiseled jaw or sharpened steel past this point." He gestured at them with a fist sprouting long, white claws, dropping the hand to point at a row of stones beaten into the ground, like some marking establishing a perimeter. Just as he says so, a group of elves with pale skin and wearing white veils to conceal their faces emerged from the darkness. At their arrival, the elven scouts began unstrapping their scabbards, removing their quivers, and unstringing their bows, handing them to these strange elves.
Natah handed over all of her weapons, while looking at her sharpened nails. It was moments such as these that made her grateful that she'd recently sharpened them. Rivvil is hesitant but does hand over his crossbow and whip. Seeing the other elves handing over their weapons, Veldyn complies. If it comes down to it, he can invoke his powers without a sword in hand. He remains quiet though, watching the elves as best he can in the dim light. He then nods to the two deserters to do the same.
True to form, Grishkar's hand produced his curved dagger, flipped it over end, and passed it to an attendant. He then removed his hood to reveal choppy, unkept hair and bowed low while holding his hands forward. When the desired result is not achieved, he stands again and shrugs, "So be it..."
For a few tense seconds, Lenore fumes silently, glaring (figurative) daggers at every elf in sight. Finally, moving stiffly and slowly, she turns over her warhammer, followed by the handaxe from her belt, and finally the little knife she'd confiscated from Dalton. "If she has so much as a scratch when I get her back..." she grumbles before catching herself and cutting short the threat. Rose hands over her lute and a single dagger.
The druid grunted, satisfied at their work. He eyed Grishkar shiftily, but made no move to bind his hand... yet. "And to make sure you are honest to your word," he gestured for the other elves to approach each of you, "each of you will be searched. This spot is sacred, and only the handmaidens and the chieftain are allowed to bear arms."
Lenore grumbles some more and glares additional daggers at the elves. But she'll allow a pat-down. "Just watch where ye put yer hands."
Veldyn complies, once again nodding to the captives to comply as well. "If ye hid something up your arse, now's the time to unclench," he tells them.
Rivvil complies, he doesn’t have any weapons to hide.
Natah stood, trembling slightly, waiting for her pat down.
The elves were thorough in their search, slipping into crannies and cracks that made the group question just how necessary some of it was. The searches were borderline forceful for Grishkar and Lenore: it was clear no love was shared for either of them.
Once the search was conducted and completed, the druid grunted. "Fortunate for you nothing was found. You may enter our sacred grove now," he cautioned and invited with a long sweep of his white-clawed hand. He descended from him bear, stroking its head a few times before they parted ways. The bear went off into the forest, whereas the druid, on bare foot, led the group and scouts into the grove.
The grove was large, large enough for the canopy to make way, revealing the beautiful night sky up above. Stars glimmered and shone, and a partial moon rained light down through the canopy opening, basking the grove in faint light [dim light]. The dancing orbs disappeared as the scouts went on their separate ways, returning to ring of hills fashioned into homes.
In the center of it all, a massive, granite slab of stone jutted into the sky, perhaps fifteen feet tall. Strange etchings were carved into the face, catching the moon's rays and glowing faintly. The druid led the group into an area, fenced off by twisting vines which grew around several shafts of wood, stretching from one shaft to another. They returned to the ground, marking the entrance, to which the druid deposited each of the group's members. "This is where you will sleep tonight. At dawn, we will meet and speak with the chieftain."
After the body search, Natah crossed her arms over her chest in a protective manner. The entire ordeal had made her very uncomfortable. Once they were lead to their resting place for the night, she sat on the ground, hid her face in her knees, and drew inward.
"I assume we're free to explore this area," Veldyn says, trying to judge the limits of their boundaries.
"Not now," the druid sharply stated. "Now, you will sleep. Tomorrow you may walk around."
Rivvil didn’t mind the pat down, he had to hold his tongue from making a lewd comment though while they were patting around his bum, he does however ask the elf , “After we speak with the chieftain, will we be free to go?”
The druid glanced over to Rivvil, pausing for a moment as he considered his words. "Perhaps," is all he says.
Rivvil just nods in response and decided he may as well get comfortable as he lays out his sleeping gear once more.
Before going off to set up his gear, Veldyn says, "Careful that the way you treat others doesn't come back to haunt you."
“I’ll just keep being on watch,” Rose scratched Chewie behind his ears.
By the time the pat-down is over, Lenore has stopped grumbling and is fuming so hard you can practically hear her about to explode. As they all settle in, she speaks to no one. She glances once and then a second time at Natah before finally asking, brusquely but not unkindly, "You're all right?"
"I'm fine," Natah said, continuing to hide her face.
Lenore looks unconvinced by Natah's claim but grunts in response. "Suit yerself."
Grishkar waves a circle over the grass and a swirl of mist rises and falls to reveal his raven familiar, "Have a look around a bit?"
Veldyn nods, "Careful it doesn't find an arrow..."
Watching Grishkar's raven with a mix of interest and trepidation, Lenore addresses Veldyn. "Let me know when we're done playing nice. I'd be pleased to acquaint mister uppity elf with the concept that I don't need a weapon to do damage."
"I don't think many of us do," Veldyn replies with a a wink. "But they offered something that we didn't have before... a way to infiltrate this Fort without immediately making our presence known. We need to know the details of the offer before we make any decisions. The good part is, they're not delaying us, only annoying us."
Veldyn nods at the group with a sort of approval. They take humiliation well... that's a good thing. They understand what we have to gain. That, or they're terrified of a bunch of pointy eared ingrates with wooden weapons. He hoped for the former.
You ok, Nat? Rose messages her snakey friend.
Natah jumps at the voice in her head. Yeah, sure.
Come on, you can talk to me, Rose replied. It’s just you and me, and I already know your worst. And you, apparently, now know that Chewie is a dire wolf.
Natah doesn't move but finally responds after a moment. I don't want to be turned into an animal.
I’m not going to let that happen to you, Rose messaged back. Grishkar, maybe.
Natah doesn't respond to this.
What happened to you? Rose asked.
I just don't like being touched, Natah replied.
Nobody likes being touched for no reason, Rose frowned. And what does that have to do with being turned into an animal? Come on. Nat, you’re terrified. I just want to help you feel better.
You don't understand. Natah paused for a few moments, then continued. My culture... my people, we don't... care about one another. Even family. Family isn't something that exists. The only time someone is touched is when they are punished.
Well that’s absolutely bullshit, Rose replied. Well, I’m your new family, and I give out great hugs. Come over here and cuddle me and Chewie.
Natah shrinks down into an even tighter ball, but doesn't say anything again.
Chewie pads over and tries to cuddle Natah. You know you waaaant to, the message almost sounds like a song.
Natah doesn't move.
As Grishkar's raven took off into the open air, the distinct twang of a bow, followed by a soaring arrow, blew through the air and pierced Grishkar's raven. Its form dissipated, leaving only the arrow as it dropped to the grass at his feet.
A voice called out from the edge of the forest, and Grishkar could now make out distinct green eyes, slightly aglow, blended into a tree. "No magic," it warned in Elven.
Grishkar smiles into the dark, "Should've removed my hands and head, then. Do you stop a river by simply telling it to stop, or by creating levvies? No, you dam it and block its path."
“Grishkar. Calm down and go back to sleep. Otherwise something might be happening to your hands this time,” Rivvil says.
Chewie curls up with Natah to keep her warm.
Lenore gives Veldyn's response a moment's consideration, shrugs and grumbles something about elves being born annoying, and stumps off to prop herself up against her pack. "We should still keep watches, even with the 'hospitality' suite. Wake me when it's mine." When she's not taking a watch, Lenore sleeps sitting up, with one eye half open, and snores like a rockfall.
Veldyn gets comfortable, offers Grishkar a shrug when his raven poofs from the air the moment he releases it, attempts to doze off to sleep.
They spent the night resting, either dreaming or awake, cautiously watching their surroundings. The elves had taken their weapons, and while they only threatened to turn them into animals, the thought still harrowed some of the members, keeping them awake and watchful during the night... they were already corraled into a pen, after all. The moon's light passed after two hours, the etched runes on the ominous slab of marble fading and disappearing into its smooth face. The sun's reddish light of dawn began to filter in through the leaves soon after, pouring down through the opening in the foliage like a beam of light. Whereas the runes glowed a faint, bluish-white light during the night, they now burned in shades of red, yellow, orange, and gold.
Those sleeping in the group awoke to the sound and sight of songbirds and sparrows, flitting through the air as they chirped and chased each other through the air in swooping arcs and dashing lines. The elves were already up and about, tending to personal errands. They were all dressed in earthy tones, browns, beige, black, and olive green. Their clothes were simple, and yet had an ornate feel to them. A handful of women wore veiled faces with silken white robes, leaving little to the imagination of what form lied underneath. The pleasantness of the sight stopped there, however, as they were heavily armed with sword and bow. The handmaidens the druid had spoken of the night before.
The druid arrived from the forest line just as the group had gotten their gear and made themselves presentable. "You're awake. Good," he stated in a monotonous tone. "Follow me; Uhradhwael waits for you." He guided the group to the far side of the marble pillar, revealing a sunken entrance of stone stairs which twisted around the slab of stone into the earth below. The stairs continued until the group was just a few feet beneath the surface, depositing them into an earthly cave of dirt and stone. Still, the marble faces continued into the ground, though its runes no longer glowed like they did above.
There, with her palms pressed to one of the faces, a female elf stood, her eyes closed. Her hair, long and bright-red, swooped down her back, ending at her waist, with red roses either woven into the strands of hair or growing from them. Her skin was dark brown, dark as the bark of fir tree. The druid began to say something, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. "I know you're here, Alam'cair," she muttered, removing her hands from the marble and opening her eyes. They seemed to burn with fire and flame, like tiny specks of the sun. They pierced each of the members as she stared at them, silent. After a minute, she glanced back to Alam'cair. "These are the ones you say can break the duergar and his bastard pet, Mercer?" Alam'cair simply nodded his head. Uhradwhael glanced back to the group. Choosing her words carefully, she spoke, "And who are you?"
Natah kept to the back of the group, kept her head down, her eyes on the ground, and her mouth shut. She hoped to not draw the attention of the elves, praying to prevent herself from being turned into an animal.
Veldyn steps forward and speaks, "We're an assortment of folk that have come together to accomplish this task. Some of us are Zhentarim, some of us are formers members of Mercer's band, but all of us wish to rid this area of Mercer, the Dooger, and break their small band of Neverwinter deserters." He looks at the others before continuing, "We came upon your forest by accident, meaning to avoid the main road to the keep and their detection as we approached. In an attempt to keep their eyes off of us, we've garnered your people's uninvited attention. We've yet to see if that's good or bad."
Grishkar remains behind the few who speak up. *No sense in pissing this one off*, he thought, *Too much to gain from this alliance. I'll come back some other time...*
*Don’t you dare, Grish,* Rose messages the necromancer. *If you’re good, I’ll be sure to get you a treat later.*
*Run off, little one. The things you'll find in here may just keep you up for weeks* Grishkar responds.
*It doesn’t work that way, I’m not a mind reader,* Rose quipped back. *Although you’d be surprised at what scares me.*
*I'd love to find out. Do tell when you're up to it. Maybe we'll spend the night swapping stories by a campfire and braiding each others' hair?* Grishkar says
*I knew you were a good hair stylist,* Rose replied.
"Zhentarim," she repeated, letting the word sit on her tongue. She tasted it, swishing it around in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. "That is *what* you are." She paused, letting the verbage sink in. "I asked, *who* are you?"
“I’m Rose,” the gnome stepped forward cheerfully. “And that’s Chewie.”
Rivvil pipes up “I don’t think our names really matter. I think our intent and reasoning for being here is what matters.”
"Individually we're an assortment of people that have come together to accomplish this goal, as Rivvil and I have already stated. If you're implying our intent, we mean to free this area of an evil that has plagued the nearby settlements. They deserve to live life without having to worry if they're going to eat the next day, and ridding the area of this group is a step towards ensuring that goal." Veldyn looks at her as if judging her. "What is it that this band of deserters and marauders have done to your people for you to entertain our presence? It must have been pretty bad..." He says as he watches her. "It must have been something personal."
Lenore's expression darkens briefly at mention of Duergar. Veldyn and the others seem to have the conversation aspect handled for the moment, however, so she busies herself with studying the stonework in the room.
She grunted with a scowl, flashing a long look at Alam'cair. "Edan uma il' rangwa, uma il' caela i' beth," she spoke in Elven. He nodded in agreement. "You!" she pointed to Veldyn, and then to herself. "Me. Not Uhradwhael. Not eladrin. *Me.* Your language dictates your thoughts. Not the Zhentarim. Not," she waved her hands openly at Veldyn, "you." She poked in him in his chest with her finger. "*You.* Who are *you*."
Suddenly everyone is subjected to a charming effect by the Eladrin. Rosie, Rivvil, and Natah all fail to resist it.
Rivvil suddenly has a nice warm smile on his face as he’s looking at Uhradwhael. “Oh,” he says “don’t you get Veldyn. She wants to know who you are. Not your name or family but what defines you as a person. Your goals, your ambitions, your experiences.” Rivvil attempts to explain. He then continues on to say “For example, I’m not just Rivvil but I’m a half-drow who was tortured his whole life and I really don’t understand what it’s like to truly connect to someone so I try to by giving into my carnal urges.” Rivvil then looks at the elven woman “Was that good?” he says obviously looking for her approval.
Natah suddenly looks up, staring at the elf. Finding herself unable to look away, she took a few steps toward her.
Grishkar does his best to stay to the back and quiet. He wouldn't likely survive their leader, let alone an escape, but it was increasingly difficult to hold back his cynicism.
At Rivvil's confession, Alam'cair roared loudly, muttering an incantation in Elvish. Before he finished, Uhradwhael held up her hand, stopping him. "This is sacred ground," she began. "I will not have blood shed near the Ileswyndaerelaufimdurlon." The word flowed off her tongue perfectly, as if she had practiced saying it for years.
She turned back to Rivvil, a light smile playing on her lips. "Reveal yourself, lost brother, fallen of the *Ssri-tel-quessir*," she commanded.
Rivvil starts disrobing. In the light of the day it’s easier to see the uncountable number of scars across his body, some look years old, others only a couple months, the newest is from the deserters that got him in the stomach less than a week ago.
She looked to Alam'cair. "Look. See the history written on his flesh. See *who* our lost brother is." Alam'cair grumbled, but otherwise stood down. Uhradwhael motioned for Rivvil to put his clothes back on, bowing her head lightly. "That is who *you* are."
Rivvil has a happy smile on his face. He’s obviously pleased that she is pleased with him. After he’s done dressing he turns to the others “See. It’s not that hard. Just tell her who you are. It’ll make her so happy. And when she’s happy you’re happy.” Rivvil says attempting to encourage them to do what she says.
"Stupid boy," Grishkar grumbled from the back, "Strip down so some wood nynph can oggle you to get her jollies and wax poetic."
Her smile slowly faded as she looked at Grishkar. "*Tish’tokurl.* Who are *you*?"
Without his usual bravado, Grishkar steps forward and spits on the ground, "Tish'tokurl... You threaten to mark that which already holds the brand. Don't play at insulting me with some divine condemnation when I have already turned by back on your false deities." Sweeping his arms wide, a hand slips his weighty tome from the folds of his robes, "I know who I am and that is what matters. I need no approval of mortal, divine, or infernal. I am Grishkar Darkmoor, formerly Aleric Kane, Blasphemer, Murderer, Defiler, Kinslayer, Beast of the Black Wood, and Avatar of Strife, Murder, and Death." Throwing his tome down, he stands defiant against the beguiling aura of the elvish chieftain, "If you would know me, then die, for that is what I am, and I embrace what I am." If no resistance is offered, he collects his book and returns to the back of the party.
She tilted her head to the side and listened to Grishkar's blasphemies as he threw down title after title. Behind it all, truth sat, confirming his words. Again Alam'cair went on edge, but he made no other aggressive movements, his eyes flashing between Uhradwhael and Grishkar. She paused for a moment, contemplating his words. After a few moments, she nodded her head, as if in approval. "Yes... *that* is who you are, tish’tokurl. You are lost in darkness," she said as her eyes blaze, peering into his own, "and it has fully consumed you. Become you. *That* is who you are."
"Just remember that some of us like living in the dark." Grishkar says.
Lenore seems to barely notice Rivvil’s and Grishkar’s displays as she continues to look over the stone, although she tips her head to the side as if listening more closely than she lets on.
“Keep yer fingers out of my brain, ancient one. Not our fault ye don’t know how to word a question so that people understand what you’re asking.” Lenore speaks brusquely as ever but with an underlying note of respect, although she looks at the stone and not at the eldarin as she speaks. She shifts her gaze to the woman, thinks for a second, and continues. “I was born of the hill folk, raised in the ways of smithing and stonecutting, and am guided by Gond the Wonderbringer.”
After another pause, Lenore continues, crafting her words carefully. “I spent enough time as a soldier to know that battlefields are a woefully useless method of bringing about any end to fighting and dying. What the world needs is a hand strong enough to end any need for war. I choose to lend my talents to that end rather than fritter them away on one useless battlefield after another, among soldiers who don’t even know what they’re fighting and dying *for*.”
It's obvious there's as much Lenore is *not* saying as what she *is* saying. But she presses her lips together after her voluntary little speech and stares down the eladrin.
She chuckled at Lenore's stuborness, replying, "Just as you were born with your sight, was I born with my enchanting form. I can no more turn it off than you could blind yourself, craftmaster."
"Still," she looked to to the group, her eyes resting on Natah, "it has its uses. Who are you, veiled one? Draw down your mask and hood, that I might see you."
Veldyn watches as each of his allies confess who they believe themselves to be. If he weren't a title or organization, what would he call himself? The thought lingered in his mind as he watched the woman's beguiling form. She would likely be amazing in bed, was his first thought. But there's another reason for her entertaining their group, and that reason is typically the one that has allowed them all to pass into this grove unimpeded. He had a knack for learning what it was that a person needed, lost, wanted, and he was experienced in fulfilling that promise for gain. He continued to watch as she called out Natah, his curiosity piqued.
Natah stepped closer, tears in her eyes. "There are thossse who would kill me... sssimply for exisssting. There are othersss who would kill me for not being what they expect me to be. I am sssimply trying to ssstay alive. I am nobody, and I wisssh to ssstay hidden asss sssuch."
"No harm will come to you here," she reminded Natah. "Tell me. *Who* are you?"
"I am no one," Natah said, pulling her mask down with a trembling hand. "I am everyone. I am anyone that you need me to be. I blend in, I hide, I do what I have to in order to sssurvive." As she spoke, her forked tongue slid out of her mouth, making it quite apparent *exactly* what she truly was.
Veldyn watches, and almost misses, the slip of Natah's tongue. *Amnian accent my ass,* he thinks, keeping the thought to himself. Now he needed to find out what her ultimate objective was. If it clashed with the Zhentarim's, he'd have to put a stop to it.
Grishkar slinks up behind Veldyn, "And who might you be?" He whispered, "A deposed noble? A righteous avenger of your family? A power-hungry tyrant? This is a sham. Only fools focus on the whims of others. We are Zhentarim, we take care of the world because it serves our ends. Remember that."
Lenore watches Natah as she speaks but appears utterly unperturbed by the forked tongue.
She watched the forked tongue slide out of Natah's mouth for a moment before lashing back in. "A yuan-ti. I don't believe I've actually seen one of your kind," she mentioned, though showed no disdain or disgrace at Natah's form.
Natah dropped her eyes to the ground and stepped back, sliding the mask back over her face.
"Are you satisfied?" Veldyn asks, breaking his gaze from Natah and returning it to the fey woman in front of them. "Now tell us, who are *you*, why do your people need our help, and how can you help *us*?"
She smiled at the pressing human. "Peace... *peace.* We *both* want Mercer and the duergar's blood."
Natah moves to the back of the group, hiding herself as much as possible, afraid of the consequences of her revelation.
Rivvil shakes his head as the charm wears off. His eyes are wide, realizing what he said but also what happened. “Who are you?” Rivvil asks the Eladrin “How...how much power do you have? I....I shouldn’t have been charmed that easily.”
"I am lost, and yet at peace. Caretaker of the Ileswyndaerelaufimdurlon. Eladrin. Seeker of peace and unity, but destroyer of those who would defile the land. I am torn from my home, an exile, bound to this stone. I am solace," her words seemed cryptic, yet there was truth behind them. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, and motioned for the group to do likewise.
Veldyn follows suit. He's had an odd encounter or two in his time as a Lord at the negotiation table, but he knew proper etiquette when presented with it. As a signal to the others, he nods for them to join.
Her face hardened as the group seated themselves, the blaze in her eyes burning brighter. "The bastard duergar and Mercer," she began heatedly. "We both want them dead, but their stronghold is too impregnable for my people to crack." Her eyes drifted over to the two deserters. "However... our scouts have found a secret tunnel in that connects to the ruins the keep is built on."
Natah sat, but took the same defensive position she had during the night, with her knees pulled to her chest, hugging her legs. She listened, but remained silent.
Grishkar approaches the seated eladrin, but stays standing, "I may be in favor of secrecy and schemes, but I'm not fond of going in blind. The tunnel is good, but ehst can we expect before and after?"
She shook her head. "We're not sure. We only found it by chance after the duergar suddenly appeared, as if out of thin air. Searching the air more thoroughly, we found the illusion. We sent two scouts to see what they could dig up, but that was over two weeks ago, so we assume they're dead." "Or undead," Dalton spoke up. "The tunnel must connect to Urmmormdh's twisted funhouse beneath the keep. Which means lots of undead." He looked around at the eyes watching him. "I mean, he must do something with all of the bodies those deserters give him."
Lenore also remains standing, but she's barely tall enough for it to be noticeable. Her irritated frown gives way to one of concentration. She's no more pleased with the situation than before, but she's damned well not about to be distracted from taking note of good information.
"The keep is built on ruins?" Lenore asks. "What sort of ruins?"
Veldyn notes both Grishkar and Lenore's refusal to follow etiquette. There's a reason one leaves their weapons off the negotiation table. He'd have to remember not to bring them when speaking is required. He nods to the Eladrin as she speaks, then to Dalton as he gives his advice.
She shook her head, the blaze still burning in her eyes. "We can't be sure. The keep was there long before I crossed over to this plane. I haven't been there, but previous scouting hints at ancient humans."
Natah listened to the discussion of the hidden tunnel and the horrors within. Then she remembered something. "I have thessse," she said quietly, holding up the tabards. "We could probably just walk in through the front gatesss with thessse." She kept her eyes diverted.
"We've found signs that there may be more to this keep than we thought," he glances over to Natah and shakes his head. Taking the keep out from the bottom up seemed much better than walking into it pretending they're meant to be there. "Has your people ever explored the keep before? And if so, what have they found?"
Natah frowned and hid the tabards away once again.
Watching the brief exchange between Veldyn and Natah, Lenore shuffled her feet before saying to Natah, "Weren't a bad idea. Hang onto 'em, they might come in handy yet."
She glanced to Alam'cair and muttered something in Elvish. He quickly stood and exited the cave. "We do have a map... It's ancient, so some things might have changed within."
"Infiltration doesn't work. We lost four scouts trying that. If you don't have the proper papers... men... women... I don't know, they shoot you down
As Natah put the tabards back in her pack, her hand brushed Aliss' journal. She remembered the paper with the symbols written on it. What if these elves knew what was under the fort, and was hiding it from them? She slid the paper from the journal and stood. "Excussse me," she said stepping forward again, putting herself in front of the group. Kneeling before the elf, she continued. "Thisss wasss found on the body of sssomeone who wasss known to frequent the keep. None of us can read it, ssso we're unsure of what it isss. We thought it could be a code of sssome sssort. Could you help usss figure out thisss myssstery?" With a trembling hand, she held out the symbols.
Rivvil sat down not wanting to give the obviously more powerful creature a reason to hate him. He is though trying to remember everything he can about duergar, their strengths and weaknesses.
She took the scroll in hand and looked it over carefully before shaking her head. "Perhaps one of the scouts have seen it. It was over a century ago before we last visited the keep, so my memory on such specific details of what they found is shaky."
"Are you able to transsslate it?" Natah asked, hopeful.
"The symbols are Draconic, a language I don't speak," she said simply.
Natah nodded, disappointed, but not surprised. She took the paper back and hid it once again in the journal.
Rivvil is intrigued, having not seen the note before, but doesn’t say anything about it now. Rivvil then turns to Veldyn, “Do you think after getting rid of Mercer and the duergar that you can rehabilitate the other deserters in the same way these two have been?”
Veldyn gives Rivval a look before saying, “I wouldn’t call it rehabilitation. They’re free to make their own decisions, and if the other deserters believe joining with us is preferable to a deserter’s death, they will be free to do so. But this is not the time nor the place for this discussion.” He then turns his attention back to the Eladrin, “The dooger and Mercer will be dealt with, I promise you that. Was there anything else you wanted from our exchange?”
“It’s Duergar.” Rivvil says trying to pronounce it slow enough for Veldyn to understand how it’s said. “They’re the dwarves equivalent of drow. And maybe our lovely host is willing to offer us some assistance. Maybe a scout or two to show us this hidden entrance.”
Grishkar comes up behind Natah, taps her on the shoulder and holds out his hand, "The scroll, if you please. If there's two things I do well, it's learn things and know things."
Natah shrank away from the touch. "Later," she hissed.
With a shrug, Grishkar steps away and paces the area, "Suit yourself. So, we have a secret tunnel, no idea what may happen before, during, or after, and all we truly know is that it takes us into Mercer's keep. Sounds like a good plan to me, let's go." There's very little attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
"Yesterday all we had was a destination, Grishkar, so it's progress," Veldyn says, noticing the necromancer's sarcasm. "I imagine Dalton is right. It's likely lined with undead this Derger made."
“Duergar. Or...just call them gray dwarves.” Rivvil says.
She nodded. "I can have my clan provide cover and distraction. If we assault the fortress from range, keeping to the natural terrain surrounding the keep and use our sharpshooters, I can have a scout guide you to the mouth of the entrance into the keep." She looked at the stairs, wondering where Alam'cair was.
Rivvil smiles “And then we can go in under distraction and take care of the Duergar and Mercer.”
Veldyn follows her eyes to the stairs and asks, "Something to be concerned about?"
She shrugged in response, but said nothing.
Natah silently stood and walked to the stairs.
"No better way to die than while killing others, I suppose." Grishkar said with a shrug
“Exactly.” Rivvil says, “Besides, we won’t die. We have the upper hand of knowing what we’re going against. The undead have some weaknesses to exploit.”
Alam'cair made his way quickly down the stairs with a scrolls case in hand. He handed it to Uhradwhael before promptly and silently sitting down. She looked him over briefly but said nothing, instead opening the scroll case and unfurling an immaculately drawn map, complete with tiny squares to give the group a good judgement of how large the keep was.
Veldyn looks over the map carefully before nodding to the elves. "The Fort is raised, meaning your arrows will be flying in blind from your lower position. Be sure to stay behind cover and in concealment. The best time for you to attack is going to be the dark. It will make it so that you're both firing at each other blind. These," he points to the alcoves in the walls, "Are likely murder holes. That means they'll be firing back at you from complete cover. As good as your archers may be, do not expect any of your arrows to cause any damage. If you want the optimal distraction, cover your arrowheads in pitch and light them. Unless they've taken to maintaining their shrubbery, something will catch fire. If you're lucky it'll be the crates of provisions they have stored in the fort."
"Two questions. Where is the secret passage and, do you know how to make sunlight?" Rivvil asks.
Lenore peers over shoulders, since for once things are at a height that's easier for her to see. She glances from the map to Veldyn with a thoughtful expression and nods slightly. Then she catches Rivvil's question and blinks.
Uhradwhael raised her eyebrow and smiled. "That is well-thought and well-put." She looked to Alam'cair, who nodded in response. "I am bound to this stone as its protector and cannot leave. But tactics and stratagem should be discussed with him when you ride out for the keep. "Our... conflict with Noltengarde and this recent advancement by Mercer and the," she glanced to Veldyn, "gray dwarf, is old... older than Mercer himself. If you would have time, I might request a second favor in exchange for something."
"I'm assuming the second favor has something to do with Noltengarde," Veldyn says, having just learned they have a history with the town. "What is the second favor?" He asks.
She gestured to the slab of rune-etched marble as she began, "This obelisk, like many others in history, marks an ancient truce made between the original ruler of Noltengarde, Lord Eldurdine's great-great-great-great grandfather. A truce made with me. In it, he, and by extension his posterity, promised to leave the old forest alone. That they would only log young trees for trade of building. In exchange, we would leave them unhindered as they farmed and walked their unnatural roads.”
"This peace lasted, more or less, for over two-hundred years. Occasionally an old tree would fall, but the current lord was always quick to judge and punish his people. This... Mercer has began cutting down old trees, having even established a logging camp," her eyes burned brighter, "now a graveyard of blood and bones, on a new road between the keep and Noltengarde. "We don't wish for a full war and the destruction of Noltengarde or our people. If you can bring Lord Eldurdine here that we way... speak with him, then you will forever have an ally amongst the elves of the Neverwinter Wood," her eyes flit between the various members, resting on Grishkar, "regardless of disposition
"I cannot promise that we'll be able to convince him to come here or that we'll be in a position to force him here, but we will bring your concerns to light if he remains the Lord of Noltengarde when we're through," Veldyn says.
With his unnatural, disfigured smile, Grishkar bowed, "My Lady, as I told your warden: Mercer is a corruption - an invasive creeper or weed, if you will - and I am a sentient, directed rot set in place to remove such a blight and return what is yours."
"Standing Stone. Huh." Lenore mutters the words and then shrugs. "I've a few bones to pick with the 'Lord of Noltengarde,' myself. He's not done much to endear himself to the Zhentarim so far." Having said her piece, she glances sideways at Grishkar, like she's still trying to decide what exactly to make of him.
"Like Standing Stone, yes," she clarified with a nod to Lenore. "While this obelisk has existed for as long as history can remember, it serves first as a sacred sight for the Seldarine, and second as a place of truce between civilization and the natural world."
"Trust is often fickle and subject to the whims and conveniences of others,” Grishkar says. “Never make a bond with someone you aren't prepared to kill."
Concluding their meeting with Uhradwhael and Alam'cair, the latter set out to rally some scouts to aid in their plan. As the group ascends the stone staircase, they see Natah resting at the top, peering around at their surroundings. She gives a nod frot with poorly concealed worry, but only pulls her hood closer around her head as she skulks back off to their pen. They too follow after, gathering their supplies and preparing for the assault in their individual fashions, coordinating and planning with the band of elves who promptly arrive without Alam'cair. Instead, the female elf Rose met last night leads the band of scouts.
Once ready, they set off with their sixteen allies, moving swiftly through the forest as they aim for Mercer's Keep. The day is cold, thought the clouds are fairly clear, leaving only a faint smog from Mount Hotenow less than thirty miles away. As the group begins to draw closer to the road connecting the keep to Noltengarde, they see the signs of civilization: the stumps of young trees mark where the Noltengardians cut back against the natural world without any thought to whatever druidic and fey history and culture they were destroying. The thought came off as strong to some within the group; there were thousands of trees without Neverwinter Wood: what harm could come from a few being lost? Still, the temporary alliance seemed solid enough, and the support of over a dozen elven scouts far outweighed that of a dozen human knights in this terrain.
By the late afternoon, the group reached the slaughtered log house Uhradwhael had spoken of earlier. A large log mill sat in the middle of a roofed cabin. Stumps of varying tree sizes dotted the open land around them, with large beams of ancient trees cut down and slaughtered being stacked neatly against each other. Beneath the slaughter, the rotting corpses of slaughtered deserters lay caked in mud and dirt, having been there before the heavy rainstorm which swept through just two days ago. Flies buzzed loudly as they implanted their larva in the disease-riddled, necrotizing flesh as the uglier side of nature began to take its course. "They don't have politeness to take care of their dead," the female elf muttered as she spat on the ground, her hand gripping her bow tighter as her sharp eyes pierced their surroundings for any watchers.
"Tread carefully," Veldyn says to all gathered at the logging house. "Sometimes unburied corpses aren't truly dead." Veldyn gives Grishkar a slight glance as he says this. "Lets search the area quickly and return to our path." He eyes the scene, knowing it was likely a warning from the elves. They didn't have to lead the group to the slaughtered house.
Rivvil nods and remembering their encounter from earlier keeps on eye on the corpses to make sure they don’t move again.
"Full disclosure," Grishkar notes to all, even the elf escorts, "Should you find any corpses that seem fresher than the rest, please let me know. The Duergar may be skilled, but he seems to lack guile." He smirks for a minute, "I plan to bring an army of my own against him, but it will be hidden until he is surrounded by it."
"The bodies look far too old for your pleasures, Grishkar. I think it best we search and go," Veldyn says as he scans the area once more, his eyes narrowed. "There doesn't appear to be any undead about... present company excluded."
Grishkar does his best to look offended, "What do you mean 'present company'? As much as I resent it, I do bear a heartbeat."
Natah wrinkled her nose at the smell of the corpses. She cared nothing about how fresh they were, just that they were. Moving quietly, she made her way to the building, to see what mysteries it held.
Lenore grunts in what might be amusement at Grishkar's offended act. Then she moved with brisk efficiency among the dead, scanning their persons for signs of anything which might prove useful. Although she holds a sleeved arm in front of her face to protect herself from the worst of the stink, Lenore doesn't seem particularly disturbed by the presence of death.
As Natah walked into the mill, she froze. Her stomach turned and she suddenly felt ill. Before her was the most gruesome sight she'd ever seen. Blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked as if the saw had been used as some sort of torture device, the corpse upon it split open at the head, brains exposed, and a crow picking through the gray matter. Stumbling back outside once again, Natah leaned against the wall and let out a terrified scream. "Veldyn!"
Veldyn takes one of the heavy crossbows and a few bolts from the corpses before hearing Natah's scream. He rushes over in her direction to see the gruesome display. "I hope they gave you the information you needed," Veldyn says to their guide while looking at the makeshift torture device. She simply nodded in response, saying nothing before signaling for the elves to move northeast again.
Grishkar took a shorter blade from a corpse's hip and gave it a few practice swings before stripping the sheath and belt. Upon hearing Natah's scream, he follows up just behind Veldyn.
Lenore picks through the loose gear, gathering up a small collection of weapons from those the others pass by. A greatsword, two longswords, and a shortsword find their way into her possession. At Natah's scream, Lenore puts her hand on the grip of her warhammer and mutters a quick prayer before stumping off in that direction.
Rivvil finds a breastplate amongst the dead. He is able to get it off and thinks to himself Just a little cleaning and it’ll be good to go. His thoughts are interrupted as he hears Natah’s screams. Quickly putting the breastplate away and makes his way towards the scream. Rivvil hopes she found something to fight. Rivvil goes somber at the display of torture. It’s a sight that reminds him of what could have happened to him.
Grishkar peers over Veldyn's shoulder, then back to the elves. Without a word, he quietly applauds their ingenuity, then turns back to Veldyn and pulls him close, "Such is the will and whim of your Lord. Do you have the strength to champion such a cause?"
Tears streaming down her face, Natah held her stomach. "Why?" she whispered to herself. "Why would someone do that?"
“To get what they want.” Rivvil says eyes not leaving the site.
"There are... other ways to get what you want," Natah replied. "Less violent ways." She wiped the tears from her face, but couldn't wipe the sight from her memory.
"To make a statement, sometimes you must take drastic measures to ensure it's received. Fitting, cut down the forest, cut down the loggers." Girshkar commented.
Rivvil turns and leaves the sight, not able to look at it any longer, as he leaves his quietly says “And I thought these elves might have been different.”
Lenore doesn't exactly look pleased by the scene. But she doesn't flinch away from it, either. Instead, she nods toward Grishkar. "Sunshine has the right of it. To the minds o' the elves, what they did to these men is no different than what these men did to the trees." After a brief pause, Lenore adds, "That's why it's better when one voice speaks and the rest obey. No disagreements over right and wrong or ours or theirs, and there's no violence to be had."
Desperate to leave the gruesome scene, Natah asked, "Can we leave now?"
Lenore eyes Natah for a second and after a second's hesitation says, in a tone that might be construed as kind beneath the typical Lenore brusqueness, "Ye know that things aren't likely to get any prettier inside Mercer's keep, aye? There's no shame in admitting it, if ye're in over yer head."
"I..." Natah said, swallowing hard. "I've just never seen... such... brutality such as this before." She stepped away from the mill, keeping her back to the scene. "I've never seen someone's brains... just... lying there."
Lenore grunts in a way that seems to indicate general agreement. "It'd be a good world if no one ever saw such things. But again, lass, given what we know about the situation we're about to walk into..." Lenore trails off and sighs heavily. "Well, ye may need to brace yerself, as best ye can."
"One voice speaking for all..." Grishkar muses, "How many atrocities, then, are done in the name of just 'following orders'?"
Lenore shoots a sidelong look at Grishkar and then slowly, as if it's against her better judgment, replies to Grishkar. "None. If everyone's on the same page, there's no need for atrocities."
"Remove the head, and then what? Cowardice makes fools of the leader and wretches of the betrayers." Grishkar approaches the corpse under the saw blade, "Do you think he held the saw which felled trees, the whip which drove the laborers, or was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"Could we please stop talking about removing heads?" Natah quickly moved away from the group, trying to calm herself down a bit more.
After hearing enough, Veldyn followed the elves away from the log house. The scene did show how serious they were about the logging operations in the area, which was good information to pass on once they finally make their way to Noltengarde. He gives Dalton and the other deserter a side-glance, wondering what must be going through their minds. They likely won't last in the crypts under the fort... but they were his charges for now.
"Removing the head is exactly the opposite o' what I just said." Lenore takes a breath to continue, abruptly remembers exactly who she has accidentally engaged in conversation, and shakes her head. "At some point, Sunshine, ye need to learn that just because ye're throwing around more words, it don't mean ye're making more sense. Come on, then. There's more dead waiting for us." Lenore heads off after the others, leaving Grishkar to spout monologues at the corpse if he likes.
They followed suit behind the elven scouts, moving off the path and hugging the forest, stalking through its shadows as the sun began to wane, leaving the macabre horrors and slaughter behind them, though keeping it fresh in their minds. The forest grew silent as they drew closer to the keep, the elevation slowly rising as they climbed upward beneath the towering trees. The remaining light of the sun barely clung to the land when the group arrived at the edge of the wood, peering upward at Mercer's Keep from the southwest side. The forest brought them right against a small cliff, upon which the keep sat, granting it an unobstructed view of its surroundings. Pulling back into the forest a bit for shelter, one of the elves cast a spell, illuminating a nearby rock, providing ample light for those without darkvision. The female elf, whose name the group learned to be Leyadwyn, spoke, "Here we rest until battle tonight. The moon will be bright, but not brightest. Alam'cair says to stick to woods and shoot flaming arrows over walls and into keep. Smart man, he is. We will spread out along forest line to make our numbers look bigger." She looked to Dalton and Jackmon. "They will stay with us. Tell us more about defences and where to aim and help siege."
"I will send scout to show you secret tunnel when ready. You will go in, kill everything from below, then work through into the keep and cut the head of the snake. We will win then." She looked into each of your faces, her own heavily obscured with dirt and foliage. "Questions?"
A look of relief swept across both Dalton and Jackmon's faces. They both nodded and Dalton, speaking on their behalf, said, "Of course. We'll be most helpful out here."
Grishkar turns to the infiltrating party, "A word of note: when we encounter living enemies within, please allow me a few minutes after they are felled. I have a plan to bolster our numbers against this other necromancer."
"Just keep the majority of the army off of us and we'll take care of the rest." Rivvil says before he looks at the others saying "I suggest if you took anything from earlier that you clean it now and use it. Who knows what we're going to face down there." Rivvil says as he takes out the breastplate and cleans it before putting it on.
Lenore grunts in agreement with Rivvil's suggestion. "If ye find any damage to yer gear, old or newly-acquired, I can lend ye a hand with that." Then Lenore settles in to clean as much of her new collection of swords as she can, although she doesn't intend to make immediate use of any of them.
Natah made herself comfortable and pulled out the studded leather armor she'd been given. Taking her time, she removed as much blood and mud as she could from it, making it usable once again. Once she was satisfied that it was clean enough to be used, she moved behind some trees and began to change out of her old armor.
"Gods, woman," Veldyn says from his tree. "Do you always have to get naked at the tree I'm using?" He proceeds to relieve himself, moving slightly to the side to give Natah some privacy.
Natah yelped and quickly covered herself. "Why are you always pissssing? You have the bladder of... well... sssomething with a sssmall bladder!"
"I think its the other way around. You're trying to lure her with meat but I don't think thats the meat she wants." Rivvil yells out.
Veldyn finishes and buckles up, walking back to the elves to give Natah her privacy. "Like a snake, maybe?" He calls behind as he leaves.
Natah pursed her lips and finished putting the new armor on. Once finished she caught up to Veldyn. "Isss there sssomething you wisssh to sssay to me?"
Veldyn leans up against a tree and looks at Natah. "Are you from Amn?" He asks.
"No," she quickly replied.
"Why have you joined the Zhentarim?" He follows up.
"It'sss... complicated," Natah said a bit slower. "I wasss forced to. I'm looking for... sssomeone."
"Who?" Veldyn presses on.
"Another..." she said, hesitating. "Like me."
"What name?" He asks.
Natah pulled down her mask, allowing her entire face to show. Her worry was apparent."Her name isss Nesssalli."
"Nesalli? What will you do once you find her?" Veldyn doesn't relent.
"I'll be happy if ssshe isssn't dead," Natah said, her voice a near whisper. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and she turned away, embarrassed.
"Your lover, then?" Veldyn asks, his tone softening. Then, "Is she Zhentarim?" He follows up.
"No," Natah said quickly, turning to face Veldyn again. "My sssissster. The only perssson I have in my life that caresss." She swallowed hard, wiping the tears away. "Yesss, ssshe'sss Zhentarim. Ssshe went missssing monthsss ago. I wasss sssent to take her place. My missssion to find her isss my own. My people do not care if ssshe never returnsss."
Veldyn sinks deeper into the tree's embrace, thinking. "Ok," he says. "We can work with that..." He pulls up from the tree and says, "When we get back to Neverwinter I'll reach out some fingers to find your sister. But once we've found her, you both leave the Zhentarim for good. I don't believe for a second that your loyalty lies with the Zhentarim."
Veldyn's words were like a slap to the face. She dropped her gaze to the ground. "How can you judge loyaltiesss when you don't know..." She stopped and shook her head. "No, thisss... isss fine."
“Because you agreed to my terms,” Veldyn says. “That’s how I know where your loyalties lie.” He continues the rest of the way to the elves and the rest of the group, leaving Natah to her thoughts.
Natah leaned against the tree, contemplating his words, terrified of what they could mean, her only concern at the forefront was not being killed for being what she was, by either side. Calming herself, she pulled the mask back over her face and rejoined the group, keeping her gaze to the ground.
As she finishes up with cleaning the swords she confiscated from the dead at the logging camp, Lenore glances up from her work, once toward Veldyn and once toward Natah, taking note of the things she just learned about each of them. Without comment, she simply returns her attention to getting the assortment of weapons appropriately stowed on her person so that she can easily carry them while still doing her job.
Veldyn takes a seat close to Lenore. He's noticed the care she puts in her equipment and the heavy crossbow he snagged from the corpses looks worse for wear. Setting it down, he asks, "Is this beyond saving?" The crank is rusted to hell and the string itself is weathered. The wood looks as though its lost its sheen from the rain and mud, which makes its structural integrity questionable.
Lenore squints at the crossbow with a critical eye and then grunts. "Think it can be done, sure." She lays one hand on the amulet around her neck, a bronze cog with four spokes. Muttering a few harsh dwarven words which feature the name "Gond," she lays her other hand on the crossbow Veldyn has set before her. Over the course of the next few seconds, the rust flakes away from the crank's metal, the string's shine is restored, and the wood turns dark and rich.
A slight smirk plays across Veldyn's lips. "That's impressive," he says. "You did in a few seconds what would normally take an hour to accomplish. Gond has blessed you indeed." He inspects the craftsmanship and pulls a rag from his pack to finish its cleaning. Once done he loads a bolt and tests it in the ground before him. Satisfied, he places an arm on Lenore's shoulder and says, "My thanks."
Lenore narrows her eyes and studies Veldyn warily for a moment before replying. "Ye're welcome." After another moment of hesitation, she adds, “I appreciate the opportunity to make up for my former party’s inability to carry out Zhentarim orders at Noltengarde. Failure’s left a nasty taste in my mouth. I intend to do what I can to prevent another loss like that one.”
"We've only just begun," Veldyn responds. "Not only will we secure our town, we'll secure yours. Your companions will be avenged, but I didn't join the Zhentarim to spend my life as a fang so I hope you understand that in your team's failure I see opportunity." Veldyn clips the heavy crossbow to his belt, a bolt loaded inside for quick access.
"Not so much interested in vengeance as in accomplishing what I set out to accomplish." Lenore gives Veldyn another appraising look, smiles faintly, and nods. "The work being done is what counts. If ye're the one can get it done, so be it."
"Very good," Veldyn responds. He stands and stretches, judging the light in the sky. "Lets get this show started, shall we?" He turns his attention to the two deserters and says, "Have no illusions, the elves will kill you at the first sign of betrayal." Then to the elves, "Once we're done, we'll meet you all back here."
Once the group's newly acquires weapons and armor are cleaned, they stand from their short rest and move into position. Just as the elves said, they spread out, hugging to the forest, dipping behind large rocks, and using any other sort of natural protection to shield them from the imminent barrage of arrows. One of the elves guides the group to the west side of the keep, quickly darting between openings within the forest and up the hill towards a grove of trees just beneath a small cliff which leads to some wooden blockades. He points to a questionably large line of bushes and mutters, "Esym ael t'ir quensir, oifim al'safir. Jenso." Then, just as quickly as he pointed to the bush he disappeared into the moon-lit night.
“Listen. They don’t know we exist. They might think it’s just the elves attacking. We should try to approach stealthily and get a jump on them.” Rivvil then looks at the two in heavy armor. “Can you two try to be less clunky for this?”
"If you want to be a sneaky elf, feel free to join the rest of them in the forest," Veldyn responds, making his way towards where the illusion is supposed to be.
“When you get swamped by 24 hands don’t complain to me.” Rivvil responds.
Lenore aims a sour look at Rivvil. "Watch who ye're calling clunky, skinny. Ye may need me to save yer arse yet." Then she sighs and shrugs. "But it might be best if I walk a few paces back from the lot of ye, anyhow. Give ye a chance to see what's what before I get close enough to be heard." She slaps her short legs. "My pace is a mite shorter than yers anyhow."
A grin spreads across Veldyn's face. "Hands don't have ears..." Lenore gives a startled snort followed by a chuckle.
Natah pulled out her bow. "I'll... uh... watch the rear," she said staying to the back.
“No, but their controller does,” Rivvil says ignoring the dwarf completely.
"Feel free to scout ahead," Veldyn gestures for Rivvil to take the lead.
"Would you like me to ssscout," Natah said, hearing the suggesting. "I'm quieter than... well mossst of you."
"They have a valid point," Lenore says to Veldyn, with respect. "Us getting pissy about it won't change that. Scouting's not a bad idea."
"I can do it. But you're welcomed to join me." Rivvil says before he begins to quietly scout about 25 feet ahead of the others, keeping an eye out for enemies, traps, ect.
Natah nodded, her hands trembling slightly. She was grateful to not be going alone. Following along, she too kept an eye out for anything they might run across.
Moving forward, the group passed through the illusory terrain, piercing the thin veil which distorted reality. Once through, they find themselves in a pitch-black cavern. Veldyn lit his torch and held it above his head, illuminating the area. It appeared to be a long, cavernous tunnel, artificially dug Natah noted as she looked at the walls and floor. The torch's light could not penetrate the end destination, so they moved forward further into the tunnel.
Natah saw them first as she stood at the edge of Veldyn's torchlight. A pack of mangled, reeking wolves slept soundly on the ground about forty feet ahead of her.
Natah grabbed Rivvil before he could move forward further, and motioned for the others to stop. Then she pointed out the wolves, without a word, and held up five fingers, then a sixth to Veldyn, finally pointing at Chewie.
Seeing some brethren, Chewie barked out a simple message that could be best translated as, “Hey Guys, what’s going on? Can we be friends?”
The wolf's stirred from their "sleep" slowly lurching towards Chewie and the rest of the group. They stalked forward silently and slowly, their forms twisting at odd angles as the shuffled forward, paws and claws dragging against the stone floor. It was only when they reached the outer edges of Veldyn's torchlight did Natah see them for what they were: shambling masses of rotting flesh, undead puppets to Urmmormdh's twisted desires. They began to snap their jaws and charge forward.
Grishkar sweeps his thumbs across his other fingertips and his hands take on a pale, blue glow. "Rose, pull back you dog if you want him to live. Now." Releasing his spell, Grishkar sends forth a pair of skeletal hands. The first plants square on a wolf's muzzle, while the other sails high.
Rivvil does what he does best and while flourishing out his whip slightly cuts along his arm coating the whip in his blood as he calls out “Oury” and it burns that familiar fire. He then rushed towards the injured wolf and calls upon his newfound power as he strikes out against the undead wolf, downing it. His mark burns slightly not enough to hurt but enough to remind him where this newfound power comes from.
Natah released her arrow into one of the wolves that had been injured, dropping it to the ground. Moving forward, she pointed and called out, "Veldyn, thisss one looksss like it hasss been sssick. Focusss on that one firssst. Weed out the weak onesss."
On her short legs, Lenore stumps up behind the others. As she mutters a prayer in dwarven, a glow of fiery radiance forms above one of the still-standing wolves. Alerted to trouble by now, it cowers away from the falling flame. Lenore utters a disgruntled grunt and reaches for her warhammer. She leans like she's about to stomp toward the wolves, but then glances at Veldyn and holds her ground instead. "I'll keep an eye on things back here. Go give 'em what-for."
While two of the zombie wolves quickly fell to the Zhents & Friends, The other didn't slow their assault, leaping and biting at Natah and Rivvil. While two of the wolves missed, the other two sunk their fangs into the arms of both Rivvil and Natah [21 to-hit on both; 4 piercing damage to Natah and knocked prone; 9 piercing damage to Rivvil], the biting Natah able to wrestle her to the floor.
Veldyn rushes forward, calling out the undead wolf in infernal (take that, Rivvil!!) that knocked Natah down. As he does, he throws the torch out towards a wolf further in the tunnel and pulls his longsword. With one quick sweeping motion, he lops the head off Natah's wolf and growls, "Get up Natah! This is no time to rest."
“You are a bad dog!” Rosie shouted at one of the wolves, who seemed to not care that the tiny gnome thought he wasn’t as cool as her puppy.
Initiative Tracker:
Natah, Rivvil, Lenore, Grishkar, Zombie Wolves, Veldyn, Rose
Rivvil, taking a pretty nasty blow from the wolf, let’s out a Drowish curse as he strikes out at the one that struck him. The undead wolf goes down in one hit.
Taking the plain iron shield from her back as she walks, Lenore stomps up to one of the wolves harassing Natah. With a snarl to match the wolves,' she swings her warhammer and wallops the wolf upside the head. The wolf shakes its head but does not fall.
Standing, Natah pulled out a dagger and swung at the wolf Lenore injured, but the wolf moved at the last moment, and Natah's dagger sliced cleanly through the air. "Veldyn, if you could get thessse wolvesss off me, that would be great."
Grishkar sends another pair of ghostly claws forth. One rakes a wolf's flank while the other is brushed off. As the tide of battle quickly shifts, Grishkar muses over their falling enemies, "Too bad this necromancer is in the way. I could spend years picking through his findings before killing him."
The two remaining wolves, in blind obedience to their desecrated master, lunged once more at Rivvil and Veldyn. The two of them easily deflected the attacks, throwing the wolves off-balance as they did so.
Veldyn launches forward at the wolf next to him, stabbing it in the torso and lurching forward. Following through, he stabs it two more times for good measure. Satisfied that it's not getting back up, he turns his attention to the last remaining wolf and advances on it.
“Chewie just wanted to be friends, and you’re not being very nice,” Rose shouted, but again, the undead wolf didn’t seem to mind.
Initiative Tracker:
Natah, Rivvil, Lenore, Grishkar, Zombie Wolves, Veldyn, Rose
Natah stepped forward, pulling out her second dagger. She swung with both, the first missing, but the second connecting, slicing a gash into the wolf's side. "Rivvil, focusss the wound." (Advantage to Rivvil on his next attack)
Lenore wades through the growing pile of dead undead wolves toward the last one standing. Dropping her shield so she can grip her warhammer with both hands, she rears back... and as she sets her foot down, she steps on a body and goes off balance just enough that her blow misses the wolf.
“I already knew that.” Rivvil says back to Natah as he whips out at the undead wolf and effectively drops it again ending combat.
With all the nearby enemies down Rivvil takes the opportunity to pull out his wine-skin that holds the healing potion and takes a swig out of it. (Takes health potion for 7 HP)
Natah narrowed her eyes at Rivvil. "Sssee if I help you again," she mumbled, walking past him.
“What? I already knew to attack wounds. On top of that on an undead creature it doesn’t matter what you strike since they don’t actually feel pain. It’s more about destroying them until the magic can’t hold them together.” Rivvil informs Natah feeling better after that drink.
*I think you mean “Thank you Natah, I appreciate your support in battle,”* Rose messages Rivvil pointedly. Out loud, she said cheerily, “that was a good team effort, everyone. We work quite well as a group.”
Natah only scowled to herself, and leaned against a wall of the tunnel, waiting for the others to decide they were ready to continue further.
*Why do I have to thank her?* Rivvil messages Rosie back.
*Because I said so,* Rose replied.
*Fine* Rivvil’s replies before he turns to Natah. “Thanks for the help in combat. I’m sure your tactical eyes will be helpful against the Duergar. Now, can we move on.” Rivvil says obviously uncomfortable the entire time he is giving this compliment out.
*Thank you!* Rose grinned at the win. Mordenkainen’s knickers, building a team was tough.
"I'm not preventing you from doing anything," Natah retorted.
*You’re supposed to say, “you’re welcome” or “it was my pleasure, I enjoy working with you.”* Rose messaged Natah.
Natah did not reply to Rose's message, instead acted as if she hadn't heard it.
*Come on, you have to make the effort too,* Rosie continued to pester.
Grishkar takes a moment to decapitate the wolves with heads remaining. He gives a sigh as though this was all just a great waste.
Rivvil sighs. He then proceeds to create one Dancing Light for Veldyn. “Here. It’ll help you see but it’s less light than that torch of yours.” Rivvil says before he rejoins Natah scouting ahead.
Veldyn picks his torch back up. "I prefer good light to *some* light.," he retorts. He then turns his attention to Natah and asks, "Are you injured?"
"Only ssslightly," Natah said quietly. "Nothing to be concerned with."
"Let me see," he says, brooking no argument. He goes in close to the wound, placing his hand over it and letting the healing energy flow into her. Satisfied, he nods for her to continue her scouting. "Good spotting that pack. Lets see what other surprises await us."
Natah nodded. "Thank you," she said flatly, then continued down the tunnel, looking for more enemies or traps.
Rivvil mutters some drowish curses before his light goes out and he joins Natah.
*Chewie, how do you make friends so easily?* Rose mused to her pet. *Sometimes I miss when it was just us.*
As Natah and Rivvil lead the group. They see a couple of things. The cavern walls give way to stone architecture, carefully chiseled and ancient. A stone doorway stands forty feet away, partially concealed by darkness. Resting to its right sits a large, purple mushroom, about the size of a human, covered in yellow spots. Through the doorway, a sickly green sliver of light glows horizontally, it's distance hard to determine due to the surrounding darkness.
Natah motions to the group to stop again, pointing out the mushroom.
Veldyn nods, not accustomed to seeing large mushrooms sitting around in a chamber. "I assume it's dangerous?" He whispers.
"I assssume," Natah hissed.
“Yes. It’s a shrieker. They let out a piercing noise whenever it comes into contact with someone or light. It’s native to the Underdark.” Rivvil says to the group instantly recognizing the mushroom. “A lot of people where I’m from use them as an alarm system.”
Veldyn slowly lowers his torch and pulls his crossbow up. "All at the same time?" He whispers.
Rivvil nods having his own crossbow ready.
Natah readied an arrow, preparing herself for a fight. "I have a bad feeling about thissss."
“It’ll go off if you’re within 30 feet. And let’s be careful of more fungi. This is the more harmless of Underdark species but some will literally turn you into a zombie.” Rivvil says to Natah.
Natah nodded and looked from Rivvil to Veldyn. "Ready," she said, aiming. She took a breath while the other two aimed as well, waiting for her mark. "On one. Three, two one." The three sent arrows and bolts slamming into the mushroom, tearing it to shreds before it could make a sound.
"Go team?" Lenore murmurs, mostly as an aside to Rose. She sounds faintly amused that what got the three working together was the common foe of fungi.
Grishkar rolls his fingers over and over, as though turning over a stone, and a mote of flame grows in his palm, "Ready when you all are"
Veldyn smirks. "Save it for the next one," he whispers, reloading and clipping his crossbow to his belt. He leans down and picks the torch back up before nodding for Natah to continue.
Rivvil looks to Rosie expecting her to make the others do the same thing she made him do to Natah when she was helpful.
Dispatching of the shrieker before it could get a warning noise off, the group advanced to the doorway. Veldyn's torchlight illuminated an eerie scene: dozens and dozens of severed hands dangled at different heights from the high ceiling of this vaulted room with thin, silken rope knitted into the flesh. The hands twitched freely as some fingers bent and contorted at odd angles. Four pillars, shackled with blood-ridden chains fit for a prisoner, stand amidst puddles of slightly coagulated blood. Scattered bits of flesh and bone are strewn across the ground, and the heavy stench of death and decay permeated their nostrils. Across the room and to the right, the group saw sickly, pale, green light pouring underneath the cracks of two different doorframes.
"Well, this is promising," Grishkar whispers, "Do mind the hands, I believe they may be a bit...spirited."
Natah backed up, eyes wide. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with the hands.
“While I disapprove of the Hands I do admire the ingenuity of the trap. The fungi shrieks which sets off the hands and then dozens of hands descend to grab you. It seems like there is enough room to crawl under. Let’s go and try and not look up.” Rivvil says before he begins to army crawl to the northernmost door. He stops at it to investigate it first for traps and if the door is locked.
Grishkar watches the drow with obvious skepticism, "I'm debating if I should tell you now or when you reach the door that we should try cutting our way through them first. Why crawl under them when we can kill them while they hang defenseless?"
Lenore eyes the hands speculatively and purses her lips. "Guess it's not like they can scream a warning or anything. But is there anyway whoever made them would be able to tell if we mess with them?" She raises one eyebrow at Grishkar, assuming he'll be the one with an answer to a question like that.
Natah watches as Rivvil starts crawling under the hands, and cringes. "Pleassse tell me we don't really need to do thisss?"
Rivvil gets down on his hands in knees in twisted memory of his dream and begins to crawl through the blood and decayed flesh, leaving a slippery trail of blood for the group to follow behind. Like a snake, he makes his way underneath the hands, heading towards the northern door. Slowly creeping back up and avoiding the hands, he checks it over for traps. Content it isn't trapped, he tests the handle and finds it unlocked.
Not wanting to just open it without knowing what behind the door he puts his ear to the door and attempts to listen for movement on the other side.
Grishkar shrugs and draws his new blade, "Usually, it's a telepathic link to anything within range and sight. But, who knows?"
Not hearing anything he motions the other to come forward before he slowly opens the door.
"A moment, please," Veldyn says quietly, staring at the display intently. It's as if he's watching them, wondering which of the hands are animated, and which of them are merely hanging as a morbid display.
Grishkar leans over to Veldyn and levels his blade toward a nearby hand, "Let me weigh a few options on your mind: 1.) We crawl like worms to a door, open it, and find ourselves face-to-face with an angry necromancer and possible minions while pinned to the ground. 2.) We cut hands like hanging meat, it alerts the master, we fall back to this doorway, and let the minions shamble through and into slaughter while waiting for the master. 3.) We kill the hands as stated in 2, but they don't alert the master, and we surprise him. I personally like them in the reverse order, but I suppose the choice is yours." He turns his blade and picks at its edge, "I'm just saying that each of us carries lethal weaponry, at least 3 or 4 have weapons idealy suited for hacking at hanging meat."
As Rivvil opens the door, a horrible, shrieking noise rings out from the other side. It rings within the group's ears and seems to echo across the entire compound.
"Prepare yourselves," Veldyn says, taking a position at the doorway.
While Rivvil closes the door, the hands start twitching in a frenzy, grasping the air around them in hopes of clinging onto something living. The others take up arms, guarding the doorway while Rivvil stays crouched on the floor, the undead hands grasping wildly above him. A few seconds pass and the shrieking from the shrieker dies down, replaced by something much more... eerie. Melodic whistling begins from the southern door as it slowly swings open, a pale, sickly green light pouring out into the room with hands.
Rivvil attempts to slowly and sneakily make his way around, avoiding the southern door and making his way closer to the others. Hoping that being low to the floor in the darkness will help.
Lenore, having stepped up alongside Veldyn in order to form a bottleneck, keeps a watchful eye on Rivvil, prepared to step back and allow him into the front line alongside Veldyn instead, if he makes it that far. Lenore casts one quick glance toward the opening door. "That can't be anything good," she mutters, to no one in particular.
Veldyn readies himself for whatever comes his way.
Natah cringes at the whistling, and nocks an arrow, preparing for whatever is coming at them (readied action, attacking whatever comes through the door).
As Rivvil gets to others he whispers to the others “What’s the plan now?”
"If you have something to clear out these hands, now's a good time to start using it," Veldyn responds in a low voice.
“Yeah. Give me a minute and cover my back if something comes through the door.” With that Rivvil starts chanting (Casting: Sword Burst) and this giant spectral Greatsword starts swinging around his body as he walks through the hands becoming a propeller of death for them. After a minute the whistling stops and Rivvil is done with the hands but he is covered head to toe in gore. He turns to the party “Now who wants a hug.” He says arms wide open.
Lenore snorts and then chuckles. But she absolutely does not make a move to take Rivvil up on the hug offer. Instead she takes another look around the now-undecorated room.
Veldyn finally enters the room, avoiding Rivvil's outstretched arms. "What do you make of the whistling?" He asks. "A tactic to unsettle those that get caught by the hands?" He glances towards the now-closed door.
Rivvil puts his arms down. “Probably. And now he waits as we struggle. So, do we go towards the whistling?”
"Screaming or whistling?" Veldyn muses. He looks around, noticing the snail trail Rivvel left more clearly. "Maybe..." He wipes a bit of the gore off of Rivvil's armor, "If people travel through here, they're bound to leave a sort of trail."
While Rivvil and Veldyn are having their discussion, Lenore spends a few more seconds peering up at the architecture. She nods to herself but then sighs. "Netherese," she declares, without additional explanation. "But damned if I recall anything about them or their building habits that'll do us any good."
Rivvil is distracted momentarily by Veldyn cleaning his armor. “Ummmm.....ummm...a trail. Tracks. Yeah I can do that.” Rivvil points out the footprints he sees. “Look at these. They’re obviously dwarf prints that go between these two doors.” He says pointing out the doors with the lights on them. “And he’s not alone. I see some skeletal prints and something flat-footed. Like a zombie maybe.”
"How astute...footprints belonging to a dwarf necromancer in his home along with several from undead minions. Remind me to get your advice on tracking an enemy the next time we get caught in their trap." Grasalfan says.
“They’re fresh. As if he was just here. Like he walked through while I was cutting up his hands and is taunting us.” Rivvil says. “And look. There’s a secret message in the prints. It says Grishkar is a second rate necromancer.” Rivvil continues
Veldyn audibly laughs. "So screaming or whistling. I imagine if something comes back through that door," he points, "we'll hear it. Lets go with whistling."
"And you are a pathetic drow slave. I can't recall, does that mean you are a good lay or not?" Grasalfan asks.
"Focusss..." Natah hissed sharply.
“Better than you’ll ever know” Rivvil says with a wink. “Let’s follow the prints.”
Lenore gets distracted from enjoying the friendly patter between Rivvil and Grishkar and peers a little closer at the nearest wall. "There are some runes on these walls, though. Ancient and probably of no value to us. But ye never know, I guess. I can't read 'em, though. Maybe Sunshine should take a gander at 'em? You know," Lenore adds, "In case they're a warning sign that we're about to walk into the room with spikes in a pit or something lovely like that."
Chewie, I swear, I’m going to murder these ********, Rosie growled softly to her dire wolf.
"You said they're Netherese?" Veldyn asks. "These ruins really must be ancient." He peers at the runes that Lenore pointed out. "And the runes are far beyond my education," Veldyn adds.
"Netherese, aye. If ye look at the way the grain of the stone is set... Never mind. Not important at the moment." Lenore scratches her chin. "More likely to be magical traps, I suppose, given they were Netherese. But like I said. Could be it's not important at all. Those tracks? They probably take priority."
“Well, if it’s a magical trap we probably want to know. I bet he has them all set now. I have some training in the arcane but I don’t know a lot about ancient human cultures. But, I can certainly try and figure them out.” Rivvil offers. “Unless you read Nethernese you’re not reading these ruins. I read about them while bored and not in training. I recognize them as that language but never learned how to actually read the ruins.” Rivvil explains.
Grishkar sits behind the others as they ponder, idly whistling while he reads the runes. Natah glanced at the runes for a moment, then turned her focus back to the door. "The runesss are gibberisssh."
“If they’re nothing then let’s get going.” Rivvil says making his way towards the door opposite of the one that opened.
Grishkar seems bored by the whole affair. What's the point of having a puzzle when you can't even begin to know where to start? But..."Natah, what was that mystery scroll you picked up back in town?"
"Ah!" Natah looked at the runes once again, paying closer attention. "Thessse! Veldyn! Thessse are the runesss!" She quickly fished in her pack and pulled out the slip of paper from Aliss' journal and handed them to Grishkar. "I'm sssorry. I forgot while in the heat of battle."
Veldyn turns his attention from Rivvil, to Natah, then Grishkar. He leans against one of the least gory walls, "Lets see what becomes of this," he says to Rivvil.
Grishkar takes the scroll and begins to compare it with the wall. "It's a code, and this is it's cipher. Thieves' Guilds will often leave codes throughout their territory and gift the secret to it's most trusted members while pawns received only temporary decoding notes such as this."
"Does that mean the cipher is useless unless it's for a specific set of runes?" Veldyn asks.
"Only one way to find out," Grishkar responds.
Natah quickly turned her focus back to the open door. "Jussst do it quickly." Seeing both Natah and Rivvil ready to pounce the door, Veldyn lifts his torch back up and assumes his position near the back of the group.
Rivvil checks the door for traps first. "The doors poisoned. See that spider. It is the handle and is imbedded with some specific poison. So, unless you're immune or resistant to it I'd suggest we go through the Whistling Door instead." Rivvil says.
Lenore scowls at the door, sighs, and lifts one finger. "Dwarves do have a certain natural resistance to most poisons. If we're dying to get through that specific door, I could give it a try." As she speaks, Lenore sort of involuntarily twitches half a glance toward Natah.
“My dear friend Natah The clever, slippery snake Pick that ******* lock,” Rosie encouraged through haiku.
Natah took a deep breath and stepped toward the door, while pulling out her tools. She began to poke around the spider, and eventually discovered one of the spiders eyes could be pressed in. After fiddling for a moment, there was a clicking sound, and the door swung open. "Easssy enough," she mumbled, peering through the doors.
"Good job Natah. Let's go." Rivvil says ready to go ahead.
Opening the door, the group finds a macabre study and living quarters. Two desks contain various supplies, varying from torture devices to studies on the arcane. A bookshelf contains bits of rotting body parts and other necromantic paraphernalia. A large chest sits at the foot of a bed, and a strange, arcane gylph, splattered with blood, sits on the floor, glowing and illuminating the room.
Veldyn nods towards the room, "Be quick, I think we'll have some company soon." He then positions himself at the Southern door, laying his torch on the ground and pulling his sword.
"Grishkar you look at the books, Natah the chest, I'll look at the glyph." Rivvil says heading to the glyph to inspect it. "This glyph is well drawn. I wonder what would happen if I marked it up or altered it." Rivvil ponders aloud.
Natah flipped the chest open and recoiled in horror. "Oh, godsss!" Inside were various body parts, drained of blood and neatly stacked. Strangely, no smell came off them. "Thisss isss meant for you... Grisssshkar." Natah quickly left the room, finding herself next to Veldyn. Pulling out her bow again, she busied herself with looking it over, closely.
"Nothing of value?" Valdyn asks the rogue.
"Not unlessss you find value in body partsss," Natah hissed. "Thisss necromancer bussssinesss is disssgusting."
Grishkar moves directly to the bookshelf and scans each book to tell it's general subject before stuffing it into a pack.
"Hey, Grishkar. Do you think you can use your undead hands to get rid of this glyph?" Rivvil asks the elf.
"Plenty of value." Grishkar beams a malevolent smile before diving into the chest and throwing hands onto the floor. Once all hands are removed, he goes to work with his Animate Claw spell in rapid succession. After a minute of working over his dagger and spell work, Grishkar has 4 animated companions tucked into the folds of his robes.
"No value," Natah repeated.
"I guess that's a no then." Rivvil says to Grishkar after seeing him put the hands in his robes. On his way out Rivvil looks at the books to see if there is anything on demons.
Grishkar approaches Natah until they are face-to-face, "Value is in the eye of the beholder. Where one would find dusty tomes and carrion, I find knowledge of ancient power and willing servants." Natah will notice a strange poking at her ankle. Looking down, a claw is scratching at her leg.
Natah jumped away from the claw, and Grishkar. "Keep it away from me!"
"Unless someone can get rid of a glyph I guess we're done in that room. And lets go through the Whistling Door next." Rivvil suggests.
With a chuckle, the necromancer approaches the circle and looks it over for a minute. "Hmmm, it's a teleportation circle of some kind. Could be that it's used for easy access to Mercer. I wouldn't destroy it just yet. Let's just be sure that we kill the duergar before he can flee through this."
Lenore, having cast a quick glance into the room and decided she's not needed in there, takes up a position near the east door and keeps an eye on the north door.
"Can we use it to quickly get to him as well?" Rivvil asks.
"If it's a means for them to escape, shouldn't we destroy it now?" Veldyn adds.
"Hard to say," Grishkar takes a moment to ponder, "People typically don't like it to be widely known that they have a necromancer close at hand, so I don't think it would just drop us at Mercer's feet. It could be for more clandestine meetings. Could be a good way for us to get the drop on him when we're done here."
"I don't like the idea of leaving them a clear escape," Veldyn approaches the room as he says this and looks inside at the circle. "How do we destroy it?"
"Like anything else, we probably just muck it up." Grishkar responds. Veldyn tests the circle outline with his foot, trying to muck it up. The bloodied chalk gave way as the magic glow slowly dissipates before the room is bathed in darkness, only illuminated by Veldyn's torch laying on the ground outside.
Satisfied, Veldyn went back into the main chamber, sheathed his weapon, and raised the torch. "Are we ready to move on?" He asks.
"Yes. Lets go. Whistling Door?" Rivvil says inspecting that door for any traps. Not finding any he opens the door. Rose and Chewie hang toward the back, just listening for anyone incoming. The "whistling door" swings open with ease, its hinges recently oiled and silent, revealing a hallway, about ten paces long that ends at another doorway. Two torches blaze with a green light which dances along the dark stone, standing sentinel on either side of the other door.
Grishkar takes a bit if chopped hand from the previous room and roll it across the floor to check for any obvious traps. The hand rolled across the stone-cold floor, unimpeded by trip wires and triggered no pressure plates or other sensors. He works his way as quietly as possible across the room, waving his blade up and down in front of him as he goes to catch any airborne dangers. Once Grishkar reaches the end of the hall, Veldyn nods for him to proceed and open the door. Natah, standing next to Veldyn, watches curiously. Grishkar waves for Veldyn to get up front since he has the shield and better armor. With a sigh, Veldyn makes his way towards the door and asks, "Trapped? Locked?" As he looks it over.
“Let me have a look see. He likes to use Underdark traps so I have a better chance at recognizing them.” Rivvil says as he looks for traps on the door and if it is unlocked. Satisfied of its safety, he adds, "“I don’t see any traps and it looks unlocked. Is everyone ready for what might be on the other side?” Veldyn nods in response, setting his torch on the floor and pulling his longsword just in case.
Lenore stays a bit back from the door but moves up closer to the group, shield and hammer in her hands and ready. She tries to stagger her position with Veldyn's and Rivvil's in such a way that anything coming out of the door has to come through her before it can get to Natah or Rose. And probably Grishkar. Lenore also eyes the green torches. "And we don't think there's anything fancy about the lighting?"
As Lenore finished her questioning, the whistling resumed, seeming to come from the other side of the door. It quickly opened up, revealing a wide room, flanked with stone pillars like those in the "room with hands". The farther portion of the room is elevated, and an impossibly black set of double-doors sat at the far wall, writhing in shadows. Four, lanky skeletons stood behind stone fences with ornate longbows strung and nocked, their eyeless eye sockets gazing at the live meat before them.
As the group's eyes fixed on the skeletons and they brandished their weapons, a taunting, Dwarvish voice called out from somewhere along the far side of the room, "Ahaha! ... Wait. You're not one of those miserable Luskan fanatics."
“What’s wrong with being Luskonian?” Rosie shouted back.
"Luskanite, you half-brained, half-height filth," he shouted back.
“I dunno, we always called ourselves Luskonians, and I feel like, as someone born there, I would know,” Rosie replied in mock consternation. “Seems to me like you’re just being racist and ignorant.”
He repeats what she says in a higher-pitched, mocking voice, adding at the end, "Shut up you daft girl. You're not even worth turning into undead after you die."
Veldyn slowly approaches as the chatter continues. "What is your purpose here, necromancer!?"
“Oh man, I’m glad you said that, because I don’t think the undead pallor would suit my complexion.” Rose taunted in retaliation.
While Rose is trading barbs with the Dwarvish voice, Lenore squints toward the shadowy door at the far end of the room. "More runes. Or ciphers. That door is pure stone. The shadows are coming straight out of it."
Rivvil slowly approaches with Veldyn, his shield raised up. But, Rivvil is paying more attention to the door.
Grishkar strolls in, standing just behind Veldyn's shoulder (D5) and claps lightly, "Well done, I truly like what you've done with the place. Unfortunately, this is where it ends for you. I can't have competition in my way, after all."
"Cocky and an elf?" the voice questioned. "How original."
"Says the duergar using literally every Underdark trick in the book to try and protect himself." Rivvil pipes up.
Lenore eases up behind Veldyn and Rivvil and a few steps past Grishkar, leaving the spots behind the pillars for those less sturdy if they want them. (C6).
"Hiding behind stone and shadows, how duergar," Grishkar added with a sneer.
"The hells call you back" Veldyn whispers in Infernal as he approaches the skeletons. (Hunters mark on E12)
"Hiding?" Urmmormdh questioned, following with a vile laugh. "What do you mean? I'm right here." Blasphemous chanting began as his black figure was given form just in front of the shadowy stone doors. Behind the group, blood-curdling yelping and screaming began as a portal appeared from the middle of the air, spilling forth wretched and dretched (get it?) abominations from the Abyss. They poured out of the portal before it quickly closed, leaving them in the dark room with bloodied eyes fixated on Rose and Natah. He cackled once again before retreating behind one of the massive stone pillars.
Moments later, four zombies silently came into view from the opposite side of the nearby pillar, their claws grasping at the living flesh in front of them. Their fists pounded into Lenore (natural 20; 14 bludgeoning damage), Rivvil, (22 to-hit; 9 bludgeoning damage), and Grishkar (natural 20; 9 bludgeoning damage), while Veldyn was able to block the assault against him with his shield (11 to-hit; miss).
Although reeling from the blow she just took from the nearest zombie, Lenore reasserted her grip on shield and hammer and lifted her gravelly voice in a Dwarven prayer. At the sound of her words, all four of the zombies rocked back. Three of them turned away to run. The one that had just struck Lenore, however, snarled and did not run. Lenore cast a quick glance toward the front of the room, where the Duergar hid behind a pillar. But she recalled Natah and Rose behind her and decided to stay put, engaged with the unturned zombie. (C8)
Rivvil hearing the voice of the duergar rushes towards it (C15) and upon seeing him immediately calls upon his connection with Graz'zt to Hex the necromancer's strength before Rivvil lashes out with the whip. However, it seems he should have done dexterity because the gray dwarf moves behind the pillar which blocks Rivvil's whip.
Natah turned around and saw eyes focusing on her. Spotting the door, she quickly ran forward and slammed the doors shut. "We have a problem back here!" She began hammering her piton into the wood, wedging the door closed, hoping it would be enough. Moving forward again, she said, "Lenore, do you think you can take care of all thessse thingsss with your... powersss?" Stepping up next to Veldyn, she pulled her bow out, her eyes going wide, as she realizes she's just stepped up next to a zombie. (moved to C9, advantage to Lenore)
Grishkar lashes out with his blade at the adjacent frightened zombie, but the swing falls short. He digs in his robes for a moment and produces a crawling claw, "Kill!" He barks, and the hand springs into the zombie's face, raking a fistful of rotten flesh as it falls (5 dmg)
“You’re such a huge dickwad, and you’re not that much taller than me!” Rose called over to the necromancer. It looked as if the duergar would shake it off, so the pint-sized bard called out another insult. “And you should be scared and be hiding from me.” She then ran up and squeezed herself and her dog into the fray next to Lenore and Natah.
From the other side of the door, the group can hear the scratching of claws, wailing of fists, and screeching and fiendish yelping as the Abyss pounds on their environment in an attempt to break down the door.
Veldyn rushes past the zombie as it turns away from Lenore's holy symbol and straight up the stairs. Once there, he lunges at one of the skeletons, tearing its ribcage to shreds with his longsword. "Do you hear that, dwarf... it's your life fleeing from your body. Your time has come. Embrace death with dignity," Veldyn calls in the dwarf's direction in fiendish.
The skeletons, in blind obedience to their dark master, aim their bows at Rivvil, launching the arrows in unison. While they might've been master elven marksmen in life, in death, they were but mere shadows as the arrows sailed straight at Rivvil... and missed him completely. Urmmormdh let out a curse in response.
Urmmormdh, rounding the corner so Rivvil is in sight, muttered some foul as a bell tolled in the background. The sound strained against Rivvil's lifeforce, but he shrugged off the assault (21 to-save). Frustrated, Urmmormdh rounded the corner once again.
The zombies fled from Lenore's righteous presence, cowering in fear as they were turned... all except for one. It continued its assault on Lenore, but she brushed the attack away with her round shield (10 to-hit).
Although obviously pained by the zombie's first attack against her, Lenore nods an acknowledgment to Natah and gamely lifts her warhammer. Her swing connects with the zombie's side. Glancing toward Rivvil, she shouts a few words in Dwarven, and a radiant glow appears around Rivvil, soothing the worst of his wounds. "If ye leave those fool zombies alone, they're harmless for the moment!" she shouts toward the front of the room, where the zombies she turned are milling frantically up against the necromancer's dais.
Natah took Lenore's advice and ignored the zombie next to her. Frightened, she raised her bow toward the dwarf, but the arrow sailed wide. "Rivvil, show that dwarf what your whip can do." (Advantage)
Rivvil gives Natah and wink and steps forward towards the Duergar. Rivvil takes some of his blood from his wound sprays it towards the Duergar effectively marking him. A quick Abyssal phrase comes out of Rivvil as he sends the whip, now also rung with Thunder energy, towards the necromancer. The strike goes through breaking through his arcane shield and leaving a nasty scar on the Duergar. Satisfied he moves back and yells out to Veldyn “He’s weak finish him.” (Critical Hit on Duergar. Finishes at C13)
Grishkar steps out around one of the pillars. "Dwarf, your time has come. Attack!" Spreading his arms, three crawling claws fall from his robes and charge across the room to attack the first skeleton in the path to the necromancer master. In a flurry, they cripple the legs and smash the skeleton's skull, leaving only a pile of dry bones. Pointing a finger to his adversary, Grishkar mutters a short, gutteral chant that sinks the duergar's heart and forms a cold sweat. The gray dwarf just manages to shake of the effect, though. The first crawling claw released in the forray skitters up to it's master, ready to charge in with its comrades.
Veldyn marches past the skeleton, ignoring its clattering, and approaches the dwarf. He swings hard and the dwarf who is now on-guard from Rivvil's massive attack. The dwarf easily ducks out of the way of the blade. "Call them off!" Veldyn yells to the dwarf. "If you don't want to join these zombies as slaves to one more powerful than you..."
“Lenore, it would really suck if you died because you’re a way better healer than me, so don’t do that,” Rosie healed the dwarf from a distance. She then tried to climb the pillar to get a better view of the duergar, but she slipped and fell back to the floor.
Rivvil encourages Rosie from a distance. “You’re the best. You can do it. You’re the little gnome that could!” In response, the little gnome that could flipped the half-drow off.
"Need a hand?" Grishkar quipped as his nearby claw patted Rose on the foot.
“Leave the puns to the professional,” Rose teased back.
The skeletons, their assault still focused on Rivvil, rounded the two pillars to provide clear points-of-view of the half-drow. They let loose their arrows, though only one connected, piercing deep into Rivvil's shoulder (22 to-hit; 13 piercing damage).
Encounter Tracker:
Lenore: 11 damage taken
Grishkar: 9 damage taken
Rivvil: 15 damage taken
Urmmormdh: 38 damage taken
E8 Skeleton: 10 damage taken; Dead
B1 Zombie: 6 damage taken
F7 Zombie: 5 damage taken
Battle Map:
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Also During Travel
As the group follows Rivvil through his new route, Veldyn makes it a point to fall back and talk with Rose. "Something about my decision seems to be rubbing you the wrong way. Are you having second thoughts on joining us?" He asks.
“I didn’t join you. I’m just traveling with you while our goals are aligned,” Rose replied. “And saving Hannock was one of my goals.”
"Joining as in travelling with us, of course." Veldyn thinks a moment before adding, "Why are you saving Hannock, and what are your other goals?"
“I’m saving Hannock because it’s the right thing to do,” Rose bit her lip. “The war between Luskan and Neverwinter doesn’t matter to the people caught in the middle. They, like me, just want to make sure they survive it.”
"And you see us, the Zhentarim, as a means to achieving that goal?" Veldyn asks her. "You know we're here for future profit, not for the survival of the people in that town. And your other goals as you travel with us?"
“I’m one person, and not a particularly big or powerful one at that,” Rose replied. “As a group, you have so much potential. That is, if you don’t murder each other in your sleep. If I can use your needs for future profit to help me with mine, I’ll be able to accomplish so much more than I would have alone.”
"And now we're travelling to a Keep on a hill surrounded by cliffs on three sides in an attempt to kill a bandit that has raised former Neverwinter soldiers under his own banner. You could be resting easy in Hannock as we complete this business, content in the fact that Zhentarim caravans are bringing food and supplies to the town." Veldyn grins, "But instead you're here with us, and the potential of death for one or all of us is high. I'm not going to assume it was my drunken invitation that brought you here. So what are your other goals?"
“The bandits aren’t exactly good for the region either,” Rose smiled. “And I’d be lying if I didn’t say this was the most exciting thing to happen to me in at least a week. But in all seriousness, I’m here so that you’ll trust me and stand by me when I need you later.”
“Need me for what?” Veldyn pushes. “You’re being quite evasive in your answers,” he adds.
“My dear, Vel, you’re going to have to be a little more forthcoming yourself if you expect me to trust you,” she gave the man a wink. “This is a two way street.”
Veldyn laughs, shaking his head at this game. “That was three times I’ve asked,” he says, “and you’ve yet to give me a straight answer. If it’s mutual trust you’re looking for, you won’t get it with subterfuge. I’ve never lied to you, but you seem intent on concealing yourself from me.”
“You want the truth, Vel? I’m a smuggler. I’ve made a living off of pissing off powerful lords and redistributing their riches to starving villages. There are at least two pirate captains from Luskan who would pay good money to have my head on a platter, but Lord Eldurdine has gotten closer to capturing me and Chewie than any other Lord. My ambitions have gotten the better of me, and now I’m terrified that if I go off on my own, I’m going to get caught and killed.”
"Name some of these Lords you've swindled," Veldyn responds. "House Steelspire has been around for generations, even if their presence in Neverwinter is much smaller than it once was. The name stretches from Baldur's Gate to Neverwinter, and all along the Sword Coast. So we still have influence... even enough to clear one's name."
“What’s the point, if I’m going to just to get another half dozen on my tail in the next year?” Rose shrugged. “Captains Rethnor and Taerl are the only two High Captains I have had direct dealings with, but there’s a possibility that the other three aren’t too happy with me. Then Eldurdine, who... I stole some priceless family heirlooms from before setting his house on fire...” The gnome cleared her throat. “That’s enough full honesty from me, it’s your turn now. Why is a pretty noble like you roughing it out in the boonies with us? And why do you care so much what my motives are?”
"Pretty, huh?" Veldyn says with a half-smile. "While other lords sit on their haunches and play war, I plan to right the wrongs inflicted to those less fortunate. But often times it takes the slaughtering of one creature to feed the hungry. I don't mind being the one that slaughters. And yes, I will do it tactfully so that my coffers and the coffers of my allies fill. I ally myself with the Zhentarim for my own purpose, as everyone does. But eventually I will rise through their ranks and I will have the power to challenge the mighty Lords that look down on others and move lives and raze towns for their own gain. That is my end game, and it can only be accomplished through the trust of allies like the ones we travel with. The ones that the Zhentarim can provide. If you think being hunted by a few lords is frightening, betraying the Zhentarim can bring agents from all over Faerun after you. That's loyalty enough. But you are an enigma in this group," he continues. "I don't know where your loyalties lie."
“Aw shucks, I’m flattered,” Rose winked. “My loyalties lie with me. I’m a survivor, and I put my neck and Chewie’s above everything else.”
Veldyn nods to Rose. "Those two captains are a dangerous pair to mess with," he says. "But a person whose loyalty only lies with themselves is just as hard to trust as a deserter whose loyalty is fleeting. I trust you, Rose, but if that trust is ever betrayed..." He shakes his head, "Don't betray my trust..." He says simply. With a nod he makes his way back to the head of the group with Rivvil.
“I’ll try not to!” Rose called after him. Veldyn can't help but smile as she calls out behind him.
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Following Rivvil's lead, the group trekked through hills and forest as the day progressed into night. The forests here seemed older... more alive than those the group had previously ventured through. The trees stood tall, soaring into the sky, their bronze leaves filtering the light and casting dancing shadows across the terrain. Dead leaves crunched under their boots as they moved through the wild terrain. Birds chirped high above in the tree's foliage while chipmunks scurried across the ground, hastily picking up nuts and acorns for the cold winter to follow.
Rivvil brought them to the forest-line by the evening time. A few miles west of their position stood Noltengarde, surrounded by open prairie and light hills. The group could make out the plumes of chimney-smoke as they raised above the town, dissipating into the sky above. A solid wall of stone surrounded the town as far as they could see with multiple farms dotting the countryside, their waves of amber wheat shifting in unison like waves of a sea of gold as the wind passed by. It was cold, and yet the scene was peaceful, surreal even, as the sun dipped low into the horizon. Gone were the grabbing trees with branches hung low, choking the road just yesterday as they ventured north. Here, the forest was ancient, nestled just beneath the fuming inferno known as Mount Hotenow.
The group set up camp deeper within the forest, finding a dip between some hills that would provide concealment. They lit no fire, for the Neverwinter Wood was wild and filled with numerous dangers, and settled with gathering dried leaves and nestles to insulate their sleeping arrangements to provide them with heat. The night had long overcome the sky, casting the forest in utter darkness. The group fell asleep to the sounds of cicadas buzzing in the distance, the leaves high above flowing in the wind and began their watch for the night.
The night was cold and dark as Rose huddled within Veldyn's community-cloak for warmth. Chewie lay by her side, gnawing on a branch that fit his mouth perfectly, content with the temperature outside.
As she peered out into the darkness from atop the hill, she felt the cold bite of sharp metal press against her neck, drawing a little blood as a firm arm held her lithe body in check. The voice, feminine, seemed to dance with the wind as her hot breath caressed Rose's skin, asking, "Ya tul a e' amin taure?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Rose said very softly, raising her hands up to show she didn't have a weapon.
Rose heard the clench of teeth as the feminine voice asked again, "Mankoi caela lle been a' sina?" Chewie lifted his head up at the sound and looked over to Rose and the shadowed figure. A low-growl uttered from his mouth before it was immediately cut off as Chewie's head dropped into the leaves beneath him, snoring lightly.
"I know common," Rose replied in the language. "And I know gnommish," she switched tongues. "I'd like to help you, but I don't know what you're saying. Barring that, I can talk to Chewie. If you wake him up, perhaps we could use him as a translator."
The figure spit into the ground beneath her. "I hate this tongue. It sounds of orc," the female whispered, tightening her grip. "Why do you walk in forest?"
"Perhaps one day I'll learn a better language," Rose kept her voice low and soft. "We are on our way to rid this land of a blight. I've lived in forests all my life, and try to have great respect for them. I saved that dire wolf from a trophy hunter."
The female sniffed the air, twisting her head about. Rose felt twigs and leave brush up against her as the figure looked around. She whispered something into the darkness, and six figures, while difficult to fully observe, seemed to meld from out of the forest itself, converging on their location. One of them approached Chewie, caressing his head until the pup awoke, and Rose was able to make out the face of an elf, their skin and hair like that of the forest, covered in bark, branches, and leaves. His eyes were of a brilliant green which pierced the night. He began with a series of low barks and growls, to which Chewie responded in similar fashion.
"We will see if you speak truth, gnome," the female stated as she released her grip around Rose's waist, waving her hand in the air. The other five figures, like trees and bushes themselves, moved down the hill towards Rose's sleeping allies.
"If you can, I'd be happy to submit to a Zone of Truth," Rose replied softly. "Please don't hurt Chewie."
"You will submit nothing," the voice warned coldly as the knife dug a little deeper. The conversation between the elf and Chewie was short, lasting no more than a minute. Chewie's tail wagged at the end as the elf patted his head one more time. He gave a quick nod to the figure behind Rose who promptly released the knife from Rose's throat. "Animals are more trust than you and your people," she spoke softly as she got up from her kneeling.
"I'd have to agree," Rose replied. What did they say to you, Chewie? The gnome asked her puppy.
Asked why we're here. What we're doing. I told them why. They're very nice. he responded with a light ruff.
I’m glad you like them, Rose smiled. What did you tell them?
Save good people and kill bad people. The one's in a big castle. He seemed to know what I meant. he replied, sniffing one of the elves as they passed by.
Good boy, Rose gave him a belly scratch.
The elves circled around the encampment, watching the others sleep, like a pack of wolves might watch a herd of doe. With bows drawn, they all cried out loudly, howling into the night as glowing orbs of light circled the sleeping group overhead.
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
As the group dreamt or laid in trance, their dreams were interrupted by the sudden howling of wolves. The sounds rang out all around them, grabbing them from the dreamscape and tossing them back into reality. They awoke to dancing lights which circled overhead their encampment, bathing the area in dim light.
“Good morning, friends,” Rose said loud enough for everyone to hear. “These are our new buddies, the elves of the forest. Chewie has advocated for us, so let’s be civil.” Natah jumped up from her uneasy sleep, daggers at the ready, eyes wide. Veldyn rolls over and clambers to his feet, drawing his longsword from its sheath and tossing it aside.
He blinks and peers into the darkness around him. "Don't sound like elves," he comments. As Veldyn looked about him, he could make out several figures within the dim light. They appeared more like the forest themselves... as if a bush was given life and shaped into that of a humanoid. Bark, leaves, and branches adorned these figures, spun into their hair and apparel. He spotted the curvature of longbows, arrows knocked and ready to fly at a moments notice.
Dalton and Jackmon woke up slowly, but jumped to their feet as soon as they realized the situation. Dalton fumbled with his crossbow bolts, spilling them all over the ground. He cursed to himself as he looked around. "Wood-demons," he groveled, the adrenaline only just keeping him awake.
“They are not big fans of Mercer either,” Rose added.
Veldyn backs himself over to Dalton, putting a hand on his arm to steady him. "Keep your weapon prepared, but don't provoke them," he says.
" 'Don't provoke the ambush'. Brilliant, truly, brilliant." Grishkar sneered
"I imagine we'd be dead by now if they wanted," Veldyn says, glancing over to the grumpy necromancer. "What do they want?" He asks Rose.
Natah was frightened by this display. "Veldyn? Rossse? What'sss happening?"
“They probably want someone who speaks Elvish,” Rose joked. “But in all seriousness, they are protectors of the forest.”
The howling died down as the wild fey looked around, surrounding the camp. Beyond the darkness, a large beast strode through, rounding the crest of the hill and coming into view. A massive bear, crowned with antlers, strode into the midst of the group... and seated atop it was a weathered elf, his skin more bark than flesh, his hair more like vines than actual strands of hair. He called out with a ragged, yet strong voice, "We're here to decide if we should turn you into animals or not."
"That'sss not necessssary, isss it?" Natah looked around wildly, knowing they were outnumbered.
“Would I be allowed to pick which animal, if we go that route?” Rose asked. “Not that I think we’ll need to.”
The ancient druid chuckled. "Such a large request from such a small creature." He looked down at Chewie, sitting loyally at her side. I've heard you saved the life of that dire wolf at your side, so I'll grant you the choice."
Veldyn shifts back as the bear enters the camp, keeping his eyes roaming to the elves and their weapons. "How long will such an enchantment last?" He asks finally. The thought of being an animal forever did not appeal to him.
"No," Natah said, beginning to panic. "I've done nothing to dessserve thisss. I will not be made into a wild thing!"
“I think we’d all prefer to remain ourselves,” Rose said calmly. “Great one, as both Chewie and I have told you, we plan on ridding this land of a blight. Surely those goals align with yours.”
"This may work to our advantage," Veldyn counters. "If this is the help they offer, I say we take it."
Rivvil, hearing the surface elves, and knowing that they will kill him if he makes himself noticed stays quiet and tries to go unnoticed. Going so far as slinking into his sleeping bag.
Grishkar stands defiant at the elves' apprpach. To the leader, he meets the gaze and spits in Elvish, "Was ceates strange bedfellows. State your terms."
Please trust me, and let me handle this, Rose then messages both Rivvil and Lenore, the two other people she feels most likely to potentially get in the way.
Rivvil whispers back to Rosie Don’t let them see me or they’ll kill us.
I’ll try my best, she replied to Riv.
When the howling started, Lenore had wrapped her fist around the warhammer she kept beside her head. Standing even as she came fully awake, she followed her usual pattern of listening and observing, weighing the situation before taking action. She kept her grip tight on her hammer, but as little as she moved, she might as well have been a stone. The reply Rose receives from Lenore is the mental equivalent of a grunt of agreement to allowing Rose to continue negotiations.
Grishkar smiles deviously to Rose, then to the elves, "Why bother with masks and secrets? We're all friends, apparently."
Lenore gives Grishkar a sidelong look. Her grip tightens on her hammer, but this time she looks like she's thinking about whacking Grishkar across the backs of his legs with it. "Stand down, Sunshine," Lenore says in a gravelly but relatively placid voice. "We've a job to do. Don't foul it up by not knowing when to keep yer trap shut."
The world was coming into focus now, which seemed to skew Grishkar's sanity even further, "Yes! Yes, that's it. We have a job to do, and what was it our friend, Rose, said? That these elves were friendly? Well that means they're amicable to our cause. And why are they amicable?" The necromancer paces close to the surrounding elves, but keeps a bit further away from the antlered bear, "Because they have not been able to accomplish this mutually-sought-after goal. But that's why we're here, isn't it?! We're problem solvers, the executors, the keystone in a grand comstruction." With a flourished twist, Grishkar turns back to the lead elf, "Now that I have elaborated the nuances beyond death and any point of return, I ask again: What. Are. Your. Terms?"
Lenore watches Grishkar's dramatics, and her stoic dwarven face betrays the slightest dumbfounded expression. Leaning in Natah's direction, she grumbles sotto voce, "No one warned me he was a complete lunatic."
"Grishkar, shut your mouth, now," Natah growled.
The druid watched the group's antics, visibly amused at their interparty dynamics. "A lunatic indeed..." His face hardened as he strode closer to Grishkar atop his bear. In Elvish, he asked with a grim look, "Tell me, outcast. When you die, what do you think will happen to you?"
Everyone sees and hears some ruffling from Rivvil’s sleeping bag before the half-elf emerges in nothing but his underwear. He sighs saying “I was hoping you’d go away so I can continue sleeping but I don’t see that happening. And as much as I hate Grishkar I hate bullies more. The answer is the same as you. You become reincarnated in a hopeful attempt of getting closer to your goddess.”
Ignoring Rivvil, Grishkar addresses the Arch-Druid in Elvish, "I have seen the finality of death, stood on its doorstep," he leans in a bit, accenting his point, "and I've felt the sweet inticement to take that one....final...step." The silence hangs for a heartbeat before he shrugs, "But death is for the living and legends are for the dead. To put it bluntly, I do the former and create the latter. When some sorry prick comes and replaces me in the most fitting way, then I guess we'll see what happens then."
"Ssshut the **** up," Natah hissed.
Grishkar spins on a heel to Natah, "So be it, have it your way," with grandiose exaggeration, he makes his way to the border, waiting for the sentries to let him pass.
“Sit down,” Rose said, her words laced with vitriolic magic. “And please, stop acting like the largest idiot to ever come across my path.” (Attempted spell vs. Grishkar. Grishkar passes with a 20 WIS save)
The bear sniffed the air while Grishkar spoke and then roared in his face, raising up on its hind legs. The druid shouted something in Elvish as the bear came back down to all fours. In a flash, threw bows were drawn by three of the elves, their iron tips focused on Grishkar, with the remaining three brandishing their swords, moving on Grishkar.
The druid turned to the rest of the group, his face a visage of fury. "Who of you knew this tish'tokurl walked with the dead?"
Natah simply shook her head no.
“For those of you who don’t understand they’re taking Grishkar. They’ll kill him, and probably us as well, if he resists or we intervene.” Rivvil tells the group.
Natah quietly moved as far away from Grishkar as she could. Her daggers were still drawn but she was watching him instead.
“We all knew, but everyone here, save for me, was bound by a contract to work together,” Rose spoke up again. “Sometimes we must ally ourselves with lesser evils in order to rid a forest of the greater evils that plague it. Mercer and his keep pose a much larger threat to you, and we have sworn to banish them.”
Lenore shows no inclination whatsoever to get between the elves and Grishkar. She frowns at Rose's statement but keeps her peace.
Grishkar hand flashes to the inside of his robe lapel and a half-dozen metal tips jab at him threateningly. Undeterred, he produced a massive, leather-and-iron tome. Staring down the druid, Grishkar throws the book at the bear's feet, "Yes, I am touched by forces of death, and I embrace it willingly. I have felt power, and would do anything to attain it. Anyone that would bar me from this goal will be reduced to ash and those that stand with me will share in glory." His arms crossed, the necromancer stands defiant against the threatening mass, "Why do you need us? If you have such power and Mercer is your sworn enemy, why have you not scaled his walls and razed the keep? I believe our kind - my kind - is the secret to your success now. The greatest tree can be felled by corruption from within, yes? Let me be Mercer's corruption."
Lenore huffs and mutters mostly to herself, “That’s either brilliantly persuasive—or we’re all about to die.”
(Grishkar rolls for Persuassion in a life-or-death gambit of "Insult The Boss". Succeeds with a roll of 22)
The druid held his hand into the air, stopping the other elves' advancement. He grimaced, staring daggers at Grishkar, and then shifted his amber-colored eyes to the rest of the group. "You all will come with us immediately," he commanded, turning the bear around. The other elves backed away from Grishkar, but still kept their arrows knocked and swords drawn, surrounding the group.
“Let me at least put some clothes on.” Rivvil says as he begins dressing, attempting to go as far as his leather armor, and gathering his traveling supplies as quickly as he can. No need to piss them off any more he thinks.
As the elves move, Grishkar bows while sweeping his arm out with a twirl of his wrist, "After you,"
Veldyn took Grishkar's antics in stride. He was honestly curious if he could climb out of the hole he dug himself, but the first sign of one of the elves touching the necromancer and Veldyn would have pounced. Luckily it didn't come to that. "It's not smart to sleep in the nude when travelling, Rivvil," Veldyn says as he gathers his belongings and falls in line with the elves.
“It’s the only way I can get comfortable enough to sleep.” Rivvil says falling behind Veldyn after getting dressed and ready to go.
Natah started to comment, but quickly closed her mouth. No sense in adding to this conversation.
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
Prisoners, and yet not, the group falls in line behind the ancient druid and his fey-touched bear, surrounded by elves masked with wood and leaf, their bows drawn or swords in a tight grip. Dancing orbs of light floated above the group, only illuminating their immediate surroundings; just enough light for Veldyn to see without tripping over his own feet. It was hard to tell just how long they traveled: the dense foliage above blocked any hope of using the star's movement for guidance, and the elves were completely silent in their movement and language. With closed lips and heavy eyes from lack of sleep, they moved their feet through the forest, the leaves crunching beneath their feet and the wind blowing through the canopy above.
Eventually, the druid brought the group to a halt. They looked around them, peering at their surroundings. It all looked like darkened trees... until one of the flying orbs of light glanced by a tree and the group caught sight of a face, halfway concealed by the moss — a man as if screaming in anguish, frozen in wood. Looking up the trunk further, a wall of faces, carved like masks in the ancient trunk, rise before the group. Far above, the cawing of ravens is heard as the beat their dark wings, taking off into the night. As they gaze at the tree, the druid barks out, "Your weapons, outsiders. Only the chieftain may bear chiseled jaw or sharpened steel past this point." He gestured at them with a fist sprouting long, white claws, dropping the hand to point at a row of stones beaten into the ground, like some marking establishing a perimeter. Just as he says so, a group of elves with pale skin and wearing white veils to conceal their faces emerged from the darkness. At their arrival, the elven scouts began unstrapping their scabbards, removing their quivers, and unstringing their bows, handing them to these strange elves.
Natah handed over all of her weapons, while looking at her sharpened nails. It was moments such as these that made her grateful that she'd recently sharpened them. Rivvil is hesitant but does hand over his crossbow and whip. Seeing the other elves handing over their weapons, Veldyn complies. If it comes down to it, he can invoke his powers without a sword in hand. He remains quiet though, watching the elves as best he can in the dim light. He then nods to the two deserters to do the same.
True to form, Grishkar's hand produced his curved dagger, flipped it over end, and passed it to an attendant. He then removed his hood to reveal choppy, unkept hair and bowed low while holding his hands forward. When the desired result is not achieved, he stands again and shrugs, "So be it..."
For a few tense seconds, Lenore fumes silently, glaring (figurative) daggers at every elf in sight. Finally, moving stiffly and slowly, she turns over her warhammer, followed by the handaxe from her belt, and finally the little knife she'd confiscated from Dalton. "If she has so much as a scratch when I get her back..." she grumbles before catching herself and cutting short the threat. Rose hands over her lute and a single dagger.
The druid grunted, satisfied at their work. He eyed Grishkar shiftily, but made no move to bind his hand... yet. "And to make sure you are honest to your word," he gestured for the other elves to approach each of you, "each of you will be searched. This spot is sacred, and only the handmaidens and the chieftain are allowed to bear arms."
Lenore grumbles some more and glares additional daggers at the elves. But she'll allow a pat-down. "Just watch where ye put yer hands."
Veldyn complies, once again nodding to the captives to comply as well. "If ye hid something up your arse, now's the time to unclench," he tells them.
Rivvil complies, he doesn’t have any weapons to hide.
Natah stood, trembling slightly, waiting for her pat down.
The elves were thorough in their search, slipping into crannies and cracks that made the group question just how necessary some of it was. The searches were borderline forceful for Grishkar and Lenore: it was clear no love was shared for either of them.
Once the search was conducted and completed, the druid grunted. "Fortunate for you nothing was found. You may enter our sacred grove now," he cautioned and invited with a long sweep of his white-clawed hand. He descended from him bear, stroking its head a few times before they parted ways. The bear went off into the forest, whereas the druid, on bare foot, led the group and scouts into the grove.
The grove was large, large enough for the canopy to make way, revealing the beautiful night sky up above. Stars glimmered and shone, and a partial moon rained light down through the canopy opening, basking the grove in faint light [dim light]. The dancing orbs disappeared as the scouts went on their separate ways, returning to ring of hills fashioned into homes.
In the center of it all, a massive, granite slab of stone jutted into the sky, perhaps fifteen feet tall. Strange etchings were carved into the face, catching the moon's rays and glowing faintly. The druid led the group into an area, fenced off by twisting vines which grew around several shafts of wood, stretching from one shaft to another. They returned to the ground, marking the entrance, to which the druid deposited each of the group's members. "This is where you will sleep tonight. At dawn, we will meet and speak with the chieftain."
After the body search, Natah crossed her arms over her chest in a protective manner. The entire ordeal had made her very uncomfortable. Once they were lead to their resting place for the night, she sat on the ground, hid her face in her knees, and drew inward.
"I assume we're free to explore this area," Veldyn says, trying to judge the limits of their boundaries.
"Not now," the druid sharply stated. "Now, you will sleep. Tomorrow you may walk around."
Rivvil didn’t mind the pat down, he had to hold his tongue from making a lewd comment though while they were patting around his bum, he does however ask the elf , “After we speak with the chieftain, will we be free to go?”
The druid glanced over to Rivvil, pausing for a moment as he considered his words. "Perhaps," is all he says.
Rivvil just nods in response and decided he may as well get comfortable as he lays out his sleeping gear once more.
Before going off to set up his gear, Veldyn says, "Careful that the way you treat others doesn't come back to haunt you."
“I’ll just keep being on watch,” Rose scratched Chewie behind his ears.
By the time the pat-down is over, Lenore has stopped grumbling and is fuming so hard you can practically hear her about to explode. As they all settle in, she speaks to no one. She glances once and then a second time at Natah before finally asking, brusquely but not unkindly, "You're all right?"
"I'm fine," Natah said, continuing to hide her face.
Lenore looks unconvinced by Natah's claim but grunts in response. "Suit yerself."
Grishkar waves a circle over the grass and a swirl of mist rises and falls to reveal his raven familiar, "Have a look around a bit?"
Veldyn nods, "Careful it doesn't find an arrow..."
Watching Grishkar's raven with a mix of interest and trepidation, Lenore addresses Veldyn. "Let me know when we're done playing nice. I'd be pleased to acquaint mister uppity elf with the concept that I don't need a weapon to do damage."
"I don't think many of us do," Veldyn replies with a a wink. "But they offered something that we didn't have before... a way to infiltrate this Fort without immediately making our presence known. We need to know the details of the offer before we make any decisions. The good part is, they're not delaying us, only annoying us."
Veldyn nods at the group with a sort of approval. They take humiliation well... that's a good thing. They understand what we have to gain. That, or they're terrified of a bunch of pointy eared ingrates with wooden weapons. He hoped for the former.
You ok, Nat? Rose messages her snakey friend.
Natah jumps at the voice in her head. Yeah, sure.
Come on, you can talk to me, Rose replied. It’s just you and me, and I already know your worst. And you, apparently, now know that Chewie is a dire wolf.
Natah doesn't move but finally responds after a moment. I don't want to be turned into an animal.
I’m not going to let that happen to you, Rose messaged back. Grishkar, maybe.
Natah doesn't respond to this.
What happened to you? Rose asked.
I just don't like being touched, Natah replied.
Nobody likes being touched for no reason, Rose frowned. And what does that have to do with being turned into an animal? Come on. Nat, you’re terrified. I just want to help you feel better.
You don't understand. Natah paused for a few moments, then continued. My culture... my people, we don't... care about one another. Even family. Family isn't something that exists. The only time someone is touched is when they are punished.
Well that’s absolutely bullshit, Rose replied. Well, I’m your new family, and I give out great hugs. Come over here and cuddle me and Chewie.
Natah shrinks down into an even tighter ball, but doesn't say anything again.
Chewie pads over and tries to cuddle Natah. You know you waaaant to, the message almost sounds like a song.
Natah doesn't move.
As Grishkar's raven took off into the open air, the distinct twang of a bow, followed by a soaring arrow, blew through the air and pierced Grishkar's raven. Its form dissipated, leaving only the arrow as it dropped to the grass at his feet.
A voice called out from the edge of the forest, and Grishkar could now make out distinct green eyes, slightly aglow, blended into a tree. "No magic," it warned in Elven.
Grishkar smiles into the dark, "Should've removed my hands and head, then. Do you stop a river by simply telling it to stop, or by creating levvies? No, you dam it and block its path."
“Grishkar. Calm down and go back to sleep. Otherwise something might be happening to your hands this time,” Rivvil says.
Chewie curls up with Natah to keep her warm.
Lenore gives Veldyn's response a moment's consideration, shrugs and grumbles something about elves being born annoying, and stumps off to prop herself up against her pack. "We should still keep watches, even with the 'hospitality' suite. Wake me when it's mine." When she's not taking a watch, Lenore sleeps sitting up, with one eye half open, and snores like a rockfall.
Veldyn gets comfortable, offers Grishkar a shrug when his raven poofs from the air the moment he releases it, attempts to doze off to sleep.
Breenie Wrynn (Half-Elf Rogue/Arcane Trickster), Dragons of Despair
Runa Barnatsdottir (Human Fighter/Eldritch Knight), A Journey Across the Planes
Tia Cabrera (Human Sorcerer/Wild Magic), Kingdoms of Magic: Tinseltown
Lenore (Dwarf Cleric/Forge Domain), Threnody of Neverwinter
They spent the night resting, either dreaming or awake, cautiously watching their surroundings. The elves had taken their weapons, and while they only threatened to turn them into animals, the thought still harrowed some of the members, keeping them awake and watchful during the night... they were already corraled into a pen, after all. The moon's light passed after two hours, the etched runes on the ominous slab of marble fading and disappearing into its smooth face. The sun's reddish light of dawn began to filter in through the leaves soon after, pouring down through the opening in the foliage like a beam of light. Whereas the runes glowed a faint, bluish-white light during the night, they now burned in shades of red, yellow, orange, and gold.
Those sleeping in the group awoke to the sound and sight of songbirds and sparrows, flitting through the air as they chirped and chased each other through the air in swooping arcs and dashing lines. The elves were already up and about, tending to personal errands. They were all dressed in earthy tones, browns, beige, black, and olive green. Their clothes were simple, and yet had an ornate feel to them. A handful of women wore veiled faces with silken white robes, leaving little to the imagination of what form lied underneath. The pleasantness of the sight stopped there, however, as they were heavily armed with sword and bow. The handmaidens the druid had spoken of the night before.
The druid arrived from the forest line just as the group had gotten their gear and made themselves presentable. "You're awake. Good," he stated in a monotonous tone. "Follow me; Uhradhwael waits for you." He guided the group to the far side of the marble pillar, revealing a sunken entrance of stone stairs which twisted around the slab of stone into the earth below. The stairs continued until the group was just a few feet beneath the surface, depositing them into an earthly cave of dirt and stone. Still, the marble faces continued into the ground, though its runes no longer glowed like they did above.
There, with her palms pressed to one of the faces, a female elf stood, her eyes closed. Her hair, long and bright-red, swooped down her back, ending at her waist, with red roses either woven into the strands of hair or growing from them. Her skin was dark brown, dark as the bark of fir tree. The druid began to say something, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. "I know you're here, Alam'cair," she muttered, removing her hands from the marble and opening her eyes. They seemed to burn with fire and flame, like tiny specks of the sun. They pierced each of the members as she stared at them, silent. After a minute, she glanced back to Alam'cair. "These are the ones you say can break the duergar and his bastard pet, Mercer?" Alam'cair simply nodded his head. Uhradwhael glanced back to the group. Choosing her words carefully, she spoke, "And who are you?"
Natah kept to the back of the group, kept her head down, her eyes on the ground, and her mouth shut. She hoped to not draw the attention of the elves, praying to prevent herself from being turned into an animal.
Veldyn steps forward and speaks, "We're an assortment of folk that have come together to accomplish this task. Some of us are Zhentarim, some of us are formers members of Mercer's band, but all of us wish to rid this area of Mercer, the Dooger, and break their small band of Neverwinter deserters." He looks at the others before continuing, "We came upon your forest by accident, meaning to avoid the main road to the keep and their detection as we approached. In an attempt to keep their eyes off of us, we've garnered your people's uninvited attention. We've yet to see if that's good or bad."
Grishkar remains behind the few who speak up. *No sense in pissing this one off*, he thought, *Too much to gain from this alliance. I'll come back some other time...*
*Don’t you dare, Grish,* Rose messages the necromancer. *If you’re good, I’ll be sure to get you a treat later.*
*Run off, little one. The things you'll find in here may just keep you up for weeks* Grishkar responds.
*It doesn’t work that way, I’m not a mind reader,* Rose quipped back. *Although you’d be surprised at what scares me.*
*I'd love to find out. Do tell when you're up to it. Maybe we'll spend the night swapping stories by a campfire and braiding each others' hair?* Grishkar says
*I knew you were a good hair stylist,* Rose replied.
"Zhentarim," she repeated, letting the word sit on her tongue. She tasted it, swishing it around in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. "That is *what* you are." She paused, letting the verbage sink in. "I asked, *who* are you?"
“I’m Rose,” the gnome stepped forward cheerfully. “And that’s Chewie.”
Rivvil pipes up “I don’t think our names really matter. I think our intent and reasoning for being here is what matters.”
"Individually we're an assortment of people that have come together to accomplish this goal, as Rivvil and I have already stated. If you're implying our intent, we mean to free this area of an evil that has plagued the nearby settlements. They deserve to live life without having to worry if they're going to eat the next day, and ridding the area of this group is a step towards ensuring that goal." Veldyn looks at her as if judging her. "What is it that this band of deserters and marauders have done to your people for you to entertain our presence? It must have been pretty bad..." He says as he watches her. "It must have been something personal."
Lenore's expression darkens briefly at mention of Duergar. Veldyn and the others seem to have the conversation aspect handled for the moment, however, so she busies herself with studying the stonework in the room.
She grunted with a scowl, flashing a long look at Alam'cair. "Edan uma il' rangwa, uma il' caela i' beth," she spoke in Elven. He nodded in agreement. "You!" she pointed to Veldyn, and then to herself. "Me. Not Uhradwhael. Not eladrin. *Me.* Your language dictates your thoughts. Not the Zhentarim. Not," she waved her hands openly at Veldyn, "you." She poked in him in his chest with her finger. "*You.* Who are *you*."
Suddenly everyone is subjected to a charming effect by the Eladrin. Rosie, Rivvil, and Natah all fail to resist it.
Rivvil suddenly has a nice warm smile on his face as he’s looking at Uhradwhael. “Oh,” he says “don’t you get Veldyn. She wants to know who you are. Not your name or family but what defines you as a person. Your goals, your ambitions, your experiences.” Rivvil attempts to explain. He then continues on to say “For example, I’m not just Rivvil but I’m a half-drow who was tortured his whole life and I really don’t understand what it’s like to truly connect to someone so I try to by giving into my carnal urges.” Rivvil then looks at the elven woman “Was that good?” he says obviously looking for her approval.
Natah suddenly looks up, staring at the elf. Finding herself unable to look away, she took a few steps toward her.
Grishkar does his best to stay to the back and quiet. He wouldn't likely survive their leader, let alone an escape, but it was increasingly difficult to hold back his cynicism.
At Rivvil's confession, Alam'cair roared loudly, muttering an incantation in Elvish. Before he finished, Uhradwhael held up her hand, stopping him. "This is sacred ground," she began. "I will not have blood shed near the Ileswyndaerelaufimdurlon." The word flowed off her tongue perfectly, as if she had practiced saying it for years.
She turned back to Rivvil, a light smile playing on her lips. "Reveal yourself, lost brother, fallen of the *Ssri-tel-quessir*," she commanded.
Rivvil starts disrobing. In the light of the day it’s easier to see the uncountable number of scars across his body, some look years old, others only a couple months, the newest is from the deserters that got him in the stomach less than a week ago.
She looked to Alam'cair. "Look. See the history written on his flesh. See *who* our lost brother is." Alam'cair grumbled, but otherwise stood down. Uhradwhael motioned for Rivvil to put his clothes back on, bowing her head lightly. "That is who *you* are."
Rivvil has a happy smile on his face. He’s obviously pleased that she is pleased with him. After he’s done dressing he turns to the others “See. It’s not that hard. Just tell her who you are. It’ll make her so happy. And when she’s happy you’re happy.” Rivvil says attempting to encourage them to do what she says.
"Stupid boy," Grishkar grumbled from the back, "Strip down so some wood nynph can oggle you to get her jollies and wax poetic."
Her smile slowly faded as she looked at Grishkar. "*Tish’tokurl.* Who are *you*?"
Without his usual bravado, Grishkar steps forward and spits on the ground, "Tish'tokurl... You threaten to mark that which already holds the brand. Don't play at insulting me with some divine condemnation when I have already turned by back on your false deities." Sweeping his arms wide, a hand slips his weighty tome from the folds of his robes, "I know who I am and that is what matters. I need no approval of mortal, divine, or infernal. I am Grishkar Darkmoor, formerly Aleric Kane, Blasphemer, Murderer, Defiler, Kinslayer, Beast of the Black Wood, and Avatar of Strife, Murder, and Death." Throwing his tome down, he stands defiant against the beguiling aura of the elvish chieftain, "If you would know me, then die, for that is what I am, and I embrace what I am." If no resistance is offered, he collects his book and returns to the back of the party.
She tilted her head to the side and listened to Grishkar's blasphemies as he threw down title after title. Behind it all, truth sat, confirming his words. Again Alam'cair went on edge, but he made no other aggressive movements, his eyes flashing between Uhradwhael and Grishkar. She paused for a moment, contemplating his words. After a few moments, she nodded her head, as if in approval. "Yes... *that* is who you are, tish’tokurl. You are lost in darkness," she said as her eyes blaze, peering into his own, "and it has fully consumed you. Become you. *That* is who you are."
"Just remember that some of us like living in the dark." Grishkar says.
Lenore seems to barely notice Rivvil’s and Grishkar’s displays as she continues to look over the stone, although she tips her head to the side as if listening more closely than she lets on.
“Keep yer fingers out of my brain, ancient one. Not our fault ye don’t know how to word a question so that people understand what you’re asking.” Lenore speaks brusquely as ever but with an underlying note of respect, although she looks at the stone and not at the eldarin as she speaks. She shifts her gaze to the woman, thinks for a second, and continues. “I was born of the hill folk, raised in the ways of smithing and stonecutting, and am guided by Gond the Wonderbringer.”
After another pause, Lenore continues, crafting her words carefully. “I spent enough time as a soldier to know that battlefields are a woefully useless method of bringing about any end to fighting and dying. What the world needs is a hand strong enough to end any need for war. I choose to lend my talents to that end rather than fritter them away on one useless battlefield after another, among soldiers who don’t even know what they’re fighting and dying *for*.”
It's obvious there's as much Lenore is *not* saying as what she *is* saying. But she presses her lips together after her voluntary little speech and stares down the eladrin.
She chuckled at Lenore's stuborness, replying, "Just as you were born with your sight, was I born with my enchanting form. I can no more turn it off than you could blind yourself, craftmaster."
"Still," she looked to to the group, her eyes resting on Natah, "it has its uses. Who are you, veiled one? Draw down your mask and hood, that I might see you."
Veldyn watches as each of his allies confess who they believe themselves to be. If he weren't a title or organization, what would he call himself? The thought lingered in his mind as he watched the woman's beguiling form. She would likely be amazing in bed, was his first thought. But there's another reason for her entertaining their group, and that reason is typically the one that has allowed them all to pass into this grove unimpeded. He had a knack for learning what it was that a person needed, lost, wanted, and he was experienced in fulfilling that promise for gain. He continued to watch as she called out Natah, his curiosity piqued.
Natah stepped closer, tears in her eyes. "There are thossse who would kill me... sssimply for exisssting. There are othersss who would kill me for not being what they expect me to be. I am sssimply trying to ssstay alive. I am nobody, and I wisssh to ssstay hidden asss sssuch."
"No harm will come to you here," she reminded Natah. "Tell me. *Who* are you?"
"I am no one," Natah said, pulling her mask down with a trembling hand. "I am everyone. I am anyone that you need me to be. I blend in, I hide, I do what I have to in order to sssurvive." As she spoke, her forked tongue slid out of her mouth, making it quite apparent *exactly* what she truly was.
Veldyn watches, and almost misses, the slip of Natah's tongue. *Amnian accent my ass,* he thinks, keeping the thought to himself. Now he needed to find out what her ultimate objective was. If it clashed with the Zhentarim's, he'd have to put a stop to it.
Grishkar slinks up behind Veldyn, "And who might you be?" He whispered, "A deposed noble? A righteous avenger of your family? A power-hungry tyrant? This is a sham. Only fools focus on the whims of others. We are Zhentarim, we take care of the world because it serves our ends. Remember that."
Lenore watches Natah as she speaks but appears utterly unperturbed by the forked tongue.
She watched the forked tongue slide out of Natah's mouth for a moment before lashing back in. "A yuan-ti. I don't believe I've actually seen one of your kind," she mentioned, though showed no disdain or disgrace at Natah's form.
Natah dropped her eyes to the ground and stepped back, sliding the mask back over her face.
"Are you satisfied?" Veldyn asks, breaking his gaze from Natah and returning it to the fey woman in front of them. "Now tell us, who are *you*, why do your people need our help, and how can you help *us*?"
She smiled at the pressing human. "Peace... *peace.* We *both* want Mercer and the duergar's blood."
Natah moves to the back of the group, hiding herself as much as possible, afraid of the consequences of her revelation.
Rivvil shakes his head as the charm wears off. His eyes are wide, realizing what he said but also what happened. “Who are you?” Rivvil asks the Eladrin “How...how much power do you have? I....I shouldn’t have been charmed that easily.”
"I am lost, and yet at peace. Caretaker of the Ileswyndaerelaufimdurlon. Eladrin. Seeker of peace and unity, but destroyer of those who would defile the land. I am torn from my home, an exile, bound to this stone. I am solace," her words seemed cryptic, yet there was truth behind them. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, and motioned for the group to do likewise.
Veldyn follows suit. He's had an odd encounter or two in his time as a Lord at the negotiation table, but he knew proper etiquette when presented with it. As a signal to the others, he nods for them to join.
Her face hardened as the group seated themselves, the blaze in her eyes burning brighter. "The bastard duergar and Mercer," she began heatedly. "We both want them dead, but their stronghold is too impregnable for my people to crack." Her eyes drifted over to the two deserters. "However... our scouts have found a secret tunnel in that connects to the ruins the keep is built on."
Natah sat, but took the same defensive position she had during the night, with her knees pulled to her chest, hugging her legs. She listened, but remained silent.
Grishkar approaches the seated eladrin, but stays standing, "I may be in favor of secrecy and schemes, but I'm not fond of going in blind. The tunnel is good, but ehst can we expect before and after?"
She shook her head. "We're not sure. We only found it by chance after the duergar suddenly appeared, as if out of thin air. Searching the air more thoroughly, we found the illusion. We sent two scouts to see what they could dig up, but that was over two weeks ago, so we assume they're dead." "Or undead," Dalton spoke up. "The tunnel must connect to Urmmormdh's twisted funhouse beneath the keep. Which means lots of undead." He looked around at the eyes watching him. "I mean, he must do something with all of the bodies those deserters give him."
Lenore also remains standing, but she's barely tall enough for it to be noticeable. Her irritated frown gives way to one of concentration. She's no more pleased with the situation than before, but she's damned well not about to be distracted from taking note of good information.
"The keep is built on ruins?" Lenore asks. "What sort of ruins?"
Veldyn notes both Grishkar and Lenore's refusal to follow etiquette. There's a reason one leaves their weapons off the negotiation table. He'd have to remember not to bring them when speaking is required. He nods to the Eladrin as she speaks, then to Dalton as he gives his advice.
She shook her head, the blaze still burning in her eyes. "We can't be sure. The keep was there long before I crossed over to this plane. I haven't been there, but previous scouting hints at ancient humans."
Natah listened to the discussion of the hidden tunnel and the horrors within. Then she remembered something. "I have thessse," she said quietly, holding up the tabards. "We could probably just walk in through the front gatesss with thessse." She kept her eyes diverted.
"We've found signs that there may be more to this keep than we thought," he glances over to Natah and shakes his head. Taking the keep out from the bottom up seemed much better than walking into it pretending they're meant to be there. "Has your people ever explored the keep before? And if so, what have they found?"
Natah frowned and hid the tabards away once again.
Watching the brief exchange between Veldyn and Natah, Lenore shuffled her feet before saying to Natah, "Weren't a bad idea. Hang onto 'em, they might come in handy yet."
She glanced to Alam'cair and muttered something in Elvish. He quickly stood and exited the cave. "We do have a map... It's ancient, so some things might have changed within."
"Infiltration doesn't work. We lost four scouts trying that. If you don't have the proper papers... men... women... I don't know, they shoot you down
As Natah put the tabards back in her pack, her hand brushed Aliss' journal. She remembered the paper with the symbols written on it. What if these elves knew what was under the fort, and was hiding it from them? She slid the paper from the journal and stood. "Excussse me," she said stepping forward again, putting herself in front of the group. Kneeling before the elf, she continued. "Thisss wasss found on the body of sssomeone who wasss known to frequent the keep. None of us can read it, ssso we're unsure of what it isss. We thought it could be a code of sssome sssort. Could you help usss figure out thisss myssstery?" With a trembling hand, she held out the symbols.
Rivvil sat down not wanting to give the obviously more powerful creature a reason to hate him. He is though trying to remember everything he can about duergar, their strengths and weaknesses.
She took the scroll in hand and looked it over carefully before shaking her head. "Perhaps one of the scouts have seen it. It was over a century ago before we last visited the keep, so my memory on such specific details of what they found is shaky."
"Are you able to transsslate it?" Natah asked, hopeful.
"The symbols are Draconic, a language I don't speak," she said simply.
Natah nodded, disappointed, but not surprised. She took the paper back and hid it once again in the journal.
Rivvil is intrigued, having not seen the note before, but doesn’t say anything about it now. Rivvil then turns to Veldyn, “Do you think after getting rid of Mercer and the duergar that you can rehabilitate the other deserters in the same way these two have been?”
Veldyn gives Rivval a look before saying, “I wouldn’t call it rehabilitation. They’re free to make their own decisions, and if the other deserters believe joining with us is preferable to a deserter’s death, they will be free to do so. But this is not the time nor the place for this discussion.” He then turns his attention back to the Eladrin, “The dooger and Mercer will be dealt with, I promise you that. Was there anything else you wanted from our exchange?”
“It’s Duergar.” Rivvil says trying to pronounce it slow enough for Veldyn to understand how it’s said. “They’re the dwarves equivalent of drow. And maybe our lovely host is willing to offer us some assistance. Maybe a scout or two to show us this hidden entrance.”
Grishkar comes up behind Natah, taps her on the shoulder and holds out his hand, "The scroll, if you please. If there's two things I do well, it's learn things and know things."
Natah shrank away from the touch. "Later," she hissed.
With a shrug, Grishkar steps away and paces the area, "Suit yourself. So, we have a secret tunnel, no idea what may happen before, during, or after, and all we truly know is that it takes us into Mercer's keep. Sounds like a good plan to me, let's go." There's very little attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
"Yesterday all we had was a destination, Grishkar, so it's progress," Veldyn says, noticing the necromancer's sarcasm. "I imagine Dalton is right. It's likely lined with undead this Derger made."
“Duergar. Or...just call them gray dwarves.” Rivvil says.
She nodded. "I can have my clan provide cover and distraction. If we assault the fortress from range, keeping to the natural terrain surrounding the keep and use our sharpshooters, I can have a scout guide you to the mouth of the entrance into the keep." She looked at the stairs, wondering where Alam'cair was.
Rivvil smiles “And then we can go in under distraction and take care of the Duergar and Mercer.”
Veldyn follows her eyes to the stairs and asks, "Something to be concerned about?"
She shrugged in response, but said nothing.
Natah silently stood and walked to the stairs.
"No better way to die than while killing others, I suppose." Grishkar said with a shrug
“Exactly.” Rivvil says, “Besides, we won’t die. We have the upper hand of knowing what we’re going against. The undead have some weaknesses to exploit.”
Alam'cair made his way quickly down the stairs with a scrolls case in hand. He handed it to Uhradwhael before promptly and silently sitting down. She looked him over briefly but said nothing, instead opening the scroll case and unfurling an immaculately drawn map, complete with tiny squares to give the group a good judgement of how large the keep was.
Veldyn looks over the map carefully before nodding to the elves. "The Fort is raised, meaning your arrows will be flying in blind from your lower position. Be sure to stay behind cover and in concealment. The best time for you to attack is going to be the dark. It will make it so that you're both firing at each other blind. These," he points to the alcoves in the walls, "Are likely murder holes. That means they'll be firing back at you from complete cover. As good as your archers may be, do not expect any of your arrows to cause any damage. If you want the optimal distraction, cover your arrowheads in pitch and light them. Unless they've taken to maintaining their shrubbery, something will catch fire. If you're lucky it'll be the crates of provisions they have stored in the fort."
"Two questions. Where is the secret passage and, do you know how to make sunlight?" Rivvil asks.
Lenore peers over shoulders, since for once things are at a height that's easier for her to see. She glances from the map to Veldyn with a thoughtful expression and nods slightly. Then she catches Rivvil's question and blinks.
Uhradwhael raised her eyebrow and smiled. "That is well-thought and well-put." She looked to Alam'cair, who nodded in response. "I am bound to this stone as its protector and cannot leave. But tactics and stratagem should be discussed with him when you ride out for the keep. "Our... conflict with Noltengarde and this recent advancement by Mercer and the," she glanced to Veldyn, "gray dwarf, is old... older than Mercer himself. If you would have time, I might request a second favor in exchange for something."
"I'm assuming the second favor has something to do with Noltengarde," Veldyn says, having just learned they have a history with the town. "What is the second favor?" He asks.
She gestured to the slab of rune-etched marble as she began, "This obelisk, like many others in history, marks an ancient truce made between the original ruler of Noltengarde, Lord Eldurdine's great-great-great-great grandfather. A truce made with me. In it, he, and by extension his posterity, promised to leave the old forest alone. That they would only log young trees for trade of building. In exchange, we would leave them unhindered as they farmed and walked their unnatural roads.”
"This peace lasted, more or less, for over two-hundred years. Occasionally an old tree would fall, but the current lord was always quick to judge and punish his people. This... Mercer has began cutting down old trees, having even established a logging camp," her eyes burned brighter, "now a graveyard of blood and bones, on a new road between the keep and Noltengarde. "We don't wish for a full war and the destruction of Noltengarde or our people. If you can bring Lord Eldurdine here that we way... speak with him, then you will forever have an ally amongst the elves of the Neverwinter Wood," her eyes flit between the various members, resting on Grishkar, "regardless of disposition
"I cannot promise that we'll be able to convince him to come here or that we'll be in a position to force him here, but we will bring your concerns to light if he remains the Lord of Noltengarde when we're through," Veldyn says.
With his unnatural, disfigured smile, Grishkar bowed, "My Lady, as I told your warden: Mercer is a corruption - an invasive creeper or weed, if you will - and I am a sentient, directed rot set in place to remove such a blight and return what is yours."
"Standing Stone. Huh." Lenore mutters the words and then shrugs. "I've a few bones to pick with the 'Lord of Noltengarde,' myself. He's not done much to endear himself to the Zhentarim so far." Having said her piece, she glances sideways at Grishkar, like she's still trying to decide what exactly to make of him.
"Like Standing Stone, yes," she clarified with a nod to Lenore. "While this obelisk has existed for as long as history can remember, it serves first as a sacred sight for the Seldarine, and second as a place of truce between civilization and the natural world."
"Trust is often fickle and subject to the whims and conveniences of others,” Grishkar says. “Never make a bond with someone you aren't prepared to kill."
Breenie Wrynn (Half-Elf Rogue/Arcane Trickster), Dragons of Despair
Runa Barnatsdottir (Human Fighter/Eldritch Knight), A Journey Across the Planes
Tia Cabrera (Human Sorcerer/Wild Magic), Kingdoms of Magic: Tinseltown
Lenore (Dwarf Cleric/Forge Domain), Threnody of Neverwinter
Concluding their meeting with Uhradwhael and Alam'cair, the latter set out to rally some scouts to aid in their plan. As the group ascends the stone staircase, they see Natah resting at the top, peering around at their surroundings. She gives a nod frot with poorly concealed worry, but only pulls her hood closer around her head as she skulks back off to their pen. They too follow after, gathering their supplies and preparing for the assault in their individual fashions, coordinating and planning with the band of elves who promptly arrive without Alam'cair. Instead, the female elf Rose met last night leads the band of scouts.
Once ready, they set off with their sixteen allies, moving swiftly through the forest as they aim for Mercer's Keep. The day is cold, thought the clouds are fairly clear, leaving only a faint smog from Mount Hotenow less than thirty miles away. As the group begins to draw closer to the road connecting the keep to Noltengarde, they see the signs of civilization: the stumps of young trees mark where the Noltengardians cut back against the natural world without any thought to whatever druidic and fey history and culture they were destroying. The thought came off as strong to some within the group; there were thousands of trees without Neverwinter Wood: what harm could come from a few being lost? Still, the temporary alliance seemed solid enough, and the support of over a dozen elven scouts far outweighed that of a dozen human knights in this terrain.
By the late afternoon, the group reached the slaughtered log house Uhradwhael had spoken of earlier. A large log mill sat in the middle of a roofed cabin. Stumps of varying tree sizes dotted the open land around them, with large beams of ancient trees cut down and slaughtered being stacked neatly against each other. Beneath the slaughter, the rotting corpses of slaughtered deserters lay caked in mud and dirt, having been there before the heavy rainstorm which swept through just two days ago. Flies buzzed loudly as they implanted their larva in the disease-riddled, necrotizing flesh as the uglier side of nature began to take its course. "They don't have politeness to take care of their dead," the female elf muttered as she spat on the ground, her hand gripping her bow tighter as her sharp eyes pierced their surroundings for any watchers.
"Tread carefully," Veldyn says to all gathered at the logging house. "Sometimes unburied corpses aren't truly dead." Veldyn gives Grishkar a slight glance as he says this. "Lets search the area quickly and return to our path." He eyes the scene, knowing it was likely a warning from the elves. They didn't have to lead the group to the slaughtered house.
Rivvil nods and remembering their encounter from earlier keeps on eye on the corpses to make sure they don’t move again.
"Full disclosure," Grishkar notes to all, even the elf escorts, "Should you find any corpses that seem fresher than the rest, please let me know. The Duergar may be skilled, but he seems to lack guile." He smirks for a minute, "I plan to bring an army of my own against him, but it will be hidden until he is surrounded by it."
"The bodies look far too old for your pleasures, Grishkar. I think it best we search and go," Veldyn says as he scans the area once more, his eyes narrowed. "There doesn't appear to be any undead about... present company excluded."
Grishkar does his best to look offended, "What do you mean 'present company'? As much as I resent it, I do bear a heartbeat."
Natah wrinkled her nose at the smell of the corpses. She cared nothing about how fresh they were, just that they were. Moving quietly, she made her way to the building, to see what mysteries it held.
Lenore grunts in what might be amusement at Grishkar's offended act. Then she moved with brisk efficiency among the dead, scanning their persons for signs of anything which might prove useful. Although she holds a sleeved arm in front of her face to protect herself from the worst of the stink, Lenore doesn't seem particularly disturbed by the presence of death.
As Natah walked into the mill, she froze. Her stomach turned and she suddenly felt ill. Before her was the most gruesome sight she'd ever seen. Blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked as if the saw had been used as some sort of torture device, the corpse upon it split open at the head, brains exposed, and a crow picking through the gray matter. Stumbling back outside once again, Natah leaned against the wall and let out a terrified scream. "Veldyn!"
Veldyn takes one of the heavy crossbows and a few bolts from the corpses before hearing Natah's scream. He rushes over in her direction to see the gruesome display. "I hope they gave you the information you needed," Veldyn says to their guide while looking at the makeshift torture device. She simply nodded in response, saying nothing before signaling for the elves to move northeast again.
Grishkar took a shorter blade from a corpse's hip and gave it a few practice swings before stripping the sheath and belt. Upon hearing Natah's scream, he follows up just behind Veldyn.
Lenore picks through the loose gear, gathering up a small collection of weapons from those the others pass by. A greatsword, two longswords, and a shortsword find their way into her possession. At Natah's scream, Lenore puts her hand on the grip of her warhammer and mutters a quick prayer before stumping off in that direction.
Rivvil finds a breastplate amongst the dead. He is able to get it off and thinks to himself Just a little cleaning and it’ll be good to go. His thoughts are interrupted as he hears Natah’s screams. Quickly putting the breastplate away and makes his way towards the scream. Rivvil hopes she found something to fight. Rivvil goes somber at the display of torture. It’s a sight that reminds him of what could have happened to him.
Grishkar peers over Veldyn's shoulder, then back to the elves. Without a word, he quietly applauds their ingenuity, then turns back to Veldyn and pulls him close, "Such is the will and whim of your Lord. Do you have the strength to champion such a cause?"
Tears streaming down her face, Natah held her stomach. "Why?" she whispered to herself. "Why would someone do that?"
“To get what they want.” Rivvil says eyes not leaving the site.
"There are... other ways to get what you want," Natah replied. "Less violent ways." She wiped the tears from her face, but couldn't wipe the sight from her memory.
"To make a statement, sometimes you must take drastic measures to ensure it's received. Fitting, cut down the forest, cut down the loggers." Girshkar commented.
Rivvil turns and leaves the sight, not able to look at it any longer, as he leaves his quietly says “And I thought these elves might have been different.”
Lenore doesn't exactly look pleased by the scene. But she doesn't flinch away from it, either. Instead, she nods toward Grishkar. "Sunshine has the right of it. To the minds o' the elves, what they did to these men is no different than what these men did to the trees." After a brief pause, Lenore adds, "That's why it's better when one voice speaks and the rest obey. No disagreements over right and wrong or ours or theirs, and there's no violence to be had."
Desperate to leave the gruesome scene, Natah asked, "Can we leave now?"
Lenore eyes Natah for a second and after a second's hesitation says, in a tone that might be construed as kind beneath the typical Lenore brusqueness, "Ye know that things aren't likely to get any prettier inside Mercer's keep, aye? There's no shame in admitting it, if ye're in over yer head."
"I..." Natah said, swallowing hard. "I've just never seen... such... brutality such as this before." She stepped away from the mill, keeping her back to the scene. "I've never seen someone's brains... just... lying there."
Lenore grunts in a way that seems to indicate general agreement. "It'd be a good world if no one ever saw such things. But again, lass, given what we know about the situation we're about to walk into..." Lenore trails off and sighs heavily. "Well, ye may need to brace yerself, as best ye can."
"One voice speaking for all..." Grishkar muses, "How many atrocities, then, are done in the name of just 'following orders'?"
Lenore shoots a sidelong look at Grishkar and then slowly, as if it's against her better judgment, replies to Grishkar. "None. If everyone's on the same page, there's no need for atrocities."
"Remove the head, and then what? Cowardice makes fools of the leader and wretches of the betrayers." Grishkar approaches the corpse under the saw blade, "Do you think he held the saw which felled trees, the whip which drove the laborers, or was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"Could we please stop talking about removing heads?" Natah quickly moved away from the group, trying to calm herself down a bit more.
After hearing enough, Veldyn followed the elves away from the log house. The scene did show how serious they were about the logging operations in the area, which was good information to pass on once they finally make their way to Noltengarde. He gives Dalton and the other deserter a side-glance, wondering what must be going through their minds. They likely won't last in the crypts under the fort... but they were his charges for now.
"Removing the head is exactly the opposite o' what I just said." Lenore takes a breath to continue, abruptly remembers exactly who she has accidentally engaged in conversation, and shakes her head. "At some point, Sunshine, ye need to learn that just because ye're throwing around more words, it don't mean ye're making more sense. Come on, then. There's more dead waiting for us." Lenore heads off after the others, leaving Grishkar to spout monologues at the corpse if he likes.
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They followed suit behind the elven scouts, moving off the path and hugging the forest, stalking through its shadows as the sun began to wane, leaving the macabre horrors and slaughter behind them, though keeping it fresh in their minds. The forest grew silent as they drew closer to the keep, the elevation slowly rising as they climbed upward beneath the towering trees. The remaining light of the sun barely clung to the land when the group arrived at the edge of the wood, peering upward at Mercer's Keep from the southwest side. The forest brought them right against a small cliff, upon which the keep sat, granting it an unobstructed view of its surroundings. Pulling back into the forest a bit for shelter, one of the elves cast a spell, illuminating a nearby rock, providing ample light for those without darkvision. The female elf, whose name the group learned to be Leyadwyn, spoke, "Here we rest until battle tonight. The moon will be bright, but not brightest. Alam'cair says to stick to woods and shoot flaming arrows over walls and into keep. Smart man, he is. We will spread out along forest line to make our numbers look bigger." She looked to Dalton and Jackmon. "They will stay with us. Tell us more about defences and where to aim and help siege."
"I will send scout to show you secret tunnel when ready. You will go in, kill everything from below, then work through into the keep and cut the head of the snake. We will win then." She looked into each of your faces, her own heavily obscured with dirt and foliage. "Questions?"
A look of relief swept across both Dalton and Jackmon's faces. They both nodded and Dalton, speaking on their behalf, said, "Of course. We'll be most helpful out here."
Grishkar turns to the infiltrating party, "A word of note: when we encounter living enemies within, please allow me a few minutes after they are felled. I have a plan to bolster our numbers against this other necromancer."
"Just keep the majority of the army off of us and we'll take care of the rest." Rivvil says before he looks at the others saying "I suggest if you took anything from earlier that you clean it now and use it. Who knows what we're going to face down there." Rivvil says as he takes out the breastplate and cleans it before putting it on.
Lenore grunts in agreement with Rivvil's suggestion. "If ye find any damage to yer gear, old or newly-acquired, I can lend ye a hand with that." Then Lenore settles in to clean as much of her new collection of swords as she can, although she doesn't intend to make immediate use of any of them.
Natah made herself comfortable and pulled out the studded leather armor she'd been given. Taking her time, she removed as much blood and mud as she could from it, making it usable once again. Once she was satisfied that it was clean enough to be used, she moved behind some trees and began to change out of her old armor.
"Gods, woman," Veldyn says from his tree. "Do you always have to get naked at the tree I'm using?" He proceeds to relieve himself, moving slightly to the side to give Natah some privacy.
Natah yelped and quickly covered herself. "Why are you always pissssing? You have the bladder of... well... sssomething with a sssmall bladder!"
"I think its the other way around. You're trying to lure her with meat but I don't think thats the meat she wants." Rivvil yells out.
Veldyn finishes and buckles up, walking back to the elves to give Natah her privacy. "Like a snake, maybe?" He calls behind as he leaves.
Natah pursed her lips and finished putting the new armor on. Once finished she caught up to Veldyn. "Isss there sssomething you wisssh to sssay to me?"
Veldyn leans up against a tree and looks at Natah. "Are you from Amn?" He asks.
"No," she quickly replied.
"Why have you joined the Zhentarim?" He follows up.
"It'sss... complicated," Natah said a bit slower. "I wasss forced to. I'm looking for... sssomeone."
"Who?" Veldyn presses on.
"Another..." she said, hesitating. "Like me."
"What name?" He asks.
Natah pulled down her mask, allowing her entire face to show. Her worry was apparent."Her name isss Nesssalli."
"Nesalli? What will you do once you find her?" Veldyn doesn't relent.
"I'll be happy if ssshe isssn't dead," Natah said, her voice a near whisper. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and she turned away, embarrassed.
"Your lover, then?" Veldyn asks, his tone softening. Then, "Is she Zhentarim?" He follows up.
"No," Natah said quickly, turning to face Veldyn again. "My sssissster. The only perssson I have in my life that caresss." She swallowed hard, wiping the tears away. "Yesss, ssshe'sss Zhentarim. Ssshe went missssing monthsss ago. I wasss sssent to take her place. My missssion to find her isss my own. My people do not care if ssshe never returnsss."
Veldyn sinks deeper into the tree's embrace, thinking. "Ok," he says. "We can work with that..." He pulls up from the tree and says, "When we get back to Neverwinter I'll reach out some fingers to find your sister. But once we've found her, you both leave the Zhentarim for good. I don't believe for a second that your loyalty lies with the Zhentarim."
Veldyn's words were like a slap to the face. She dropped her gaze to the ground. "How can you judge loyaltiesss when you don't know..." She stopped and shook her head. "No, thisss... isss fine."
“Because you agreed to my terms,” Veldyn says. “That’s how I know where your loyalties lie.” He continues the rest of the way to the elves and the rest of the group, leaving Natah to her thoughts.
Natah leaned against the tree, contemplating his words, terrified of what they could mean, her only concern at the forefront was not being killed for being what she was, by either side. Calming herself, she pulled the mask back over her face and rejoined the group, keeping her gaze to the ground.
As she finishes up with cleaning the swords she confiscated from the dead at the logging camp, Lenore glances up from her work, once toward Veldyn and once toward Natah, taking note of the things she just learned about each of them. Without comment, she simply returns her attention to getting the assortment of weapons appropriately stowed on her person so that she can easily carry them while still doing her job.
Veldyn takes a seat close to Lenore. He's noticed the care she puts in her equipment and the heavy crossbow he snagged from the corpses looks worse for wear. Setting it down, he asks, "Is this beyond saving?" The crank is rusted to hell and the string itself is weathered. The wood looks as though its lost its sheen from the rain and mud, which makes its structural integrity questionable.
Lenore squints at the crossbow with a critical eye and then grunts. "Think it can be done, sure." She lays one hand on the amulet around her neck, a bronze cog with four spokes. Muttering a few harsh dwarven words which feature the name "Gond," she lays her other hand on the crossbow Veldyn has set before her. Over the course of the next few seconds, the rust flakes away from the crank's metal, the string's shine is restored, and the wood turns dark and rich.
A slight smirk plays across Veldyn's lips. "That's impressive," he says. "You did in a few seconds what would normally take an hour to accomplish. Gond has blessed you indeed." He inspects the craftsmanship and pulls a rag from his pack to finish its cleaning. Once done he loads a bolt and tests it in the ground before him. Satisfied, he places an arm on Lenore's shoulder and says, "My thanks."
Lenore narrows her eyes and studies Veldyn warily for a moment before replying. "Ye're welcome." After another moment of hesitation, she adds, “I appreciate the opportunity to make up for my former party’s inability to carry out Zhentarim orders at Noltengarde. Failure’s left a nasty taste in my mouth. I intend to do what I can to prevent another loss like that one.”
"We've only just begun," Veldyn responds. "Not only will we secure our town, we'll secure yours. Your companions will be avenged, but I didn't join the Zhentarim to spend my life as a fang so I hope you understand that in your team's failure I see opportunity." Veldyn clips the heavy crossbow to his belt, a bolt loaded inside for quick access.
"Not so much interested in vengeance as in accomplishing what I set out to accomplish." Lenore gives Veldyn another appraising look, smiles faintly, and nods. "The work being done is what counts. If ye're the one can get it done, so be it."
"Very good," Veldyn responds. He stands and stretches, judging the light in the sky. "Lets get this show started, shall we?" He turns his attention to the two deserters and says, "Have no illusions, the elves will kill you at the first sign of betrayal." Then to the elves, "Once we're done, we'll meet you all back here."
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Once the group's newly acquires weapons and armor are cleaned, they stand from their short rest and move into position. Just as the elves said, they spread out, hugging to the forest, dipping behind large rocks, and using any other sort of natural protection to shield them from the imminent barrage of arrows. One of the elves guides the group to the west side of the keep, quickly darting between openings within the forest and up the hill towards a grove of trees just beneath a small cliff which leads to some wooden blockades. He points to a questionably large line of bushes and mutters, "Esym ael t'ir quensir, oifim al'safir. Jenso." Then, just as quickly as he pointed to the bush he disappeared into the moon-lit night.
“Listen. They don’t know we exist. They might think it’s just the elves attacking. We should try to approach stealthily and get a jump on them.” Rivvil then looks at the two in heavy armor. “Can you two try to be less clunky for this?”
"If you want to be a sneaky elf, feel free to join the rest of them in the forest," Veldyn responds, making his way towards where the illusion is supposed to be.
“When you get swamped by 24 hands don’t complain to me.” Rivvil responds.
Lenore aims a sour look at Rivvil. "Watch who ye're calling clunky, skinny. Ye may need me to save yer arse yet." Then she sighs and shrugs. "But it might be best if I walk a few paces back from the lot of ye, anyhow. Give ye a chance to see what's what before I get close enough to be heard." She slaps her short legs. "My pace is a mite shorter than yers anyhow."
A grin spreads across Veldyn's face. "Hands don't have ears..." Lenore gives a startled snort followed by a chuckle.
Natah pulled out her bow. "I'll... uh... watch the rear," she said staying to the back.
“No, but their controller does,” Rivvil says ignoring the dwarf completely.
"Feel free to scout ahead," Veldyn gestures for Rivvil to take the lead.
"Would you like me to ssscout," Natah said, hearing the suggesting. "I'm quieter than... well mossst of you."
"They have a valid point," Lenore says to Veldyn, with respect. "Us getting pissy about it won't change that. Scouting's not a bad idea."
"I can do it. But you're welcomed to join me." Rivvil says before he begins to quietly scout about 25 feet ahead of the others, keeping an eye out for enemies, traps, ect.
Natah nodded, her hands trembling slightly. She was grateful to not be going alone. Following along, she too kept an eye out for anything they might run across.
Moving forward, the group passed through the illusory terrain, piercing the thin veil which distorted reality. Once through, they find themselves in a pitch-black cavern. Veldyn lit his torch and held it above his head, illuminating the area. It appeared to be a long, cavernous tunnel, artificially dug Natah noted as she looked at the walls and floor. The torch's light could not penetrate the end destination, so they moved forward further into the tunnel.
Natah saw them first as she stood at the edge of Veldyn's torchlight. A pack of mangled, reeking wolves slept soundly on the ground about forty feet ahead of her.
Natah grabbed Rivvil before he could move forward further, and motioned for the others to stop. Then she pointed out the wolves, without a word, and held up five fingers, then a sixth to Veldyn, finally pointing at Chewie.
Seeing some brethren, Chewie barked out a simple message that could be best translated as, “Hey Guys, what’s going on? Can we be friends?”
The wolf's stirred from their "sleep" slowly lurching towards Chewie and the rest of the group. They stalked forward silently and slowly, their forms twisting at odd angles as the shuffled forward, paws and claws dragging against the stone floor. It was only when they reached the outer edges of Veldyn's torchlight did Natah see them for what they were: shambling masses of rotting flesh, undead puppets to Urmmormdh's twisted desires. They began to snap their jaws and charge forward.
Grishkar sweeps his thumbs across his other fingertips and his hands take on a pale, blue glow. "Rose, pull back you dog if you want him to live. Now." Releasing his spell, Grishkar sends forth a pair of skeletal hands. The first plants square on a wolf's muzzle, while the other sails high.
Rivvil does what he does best and while flourishing out his whip slightly cuts along his arm coating the whip in his blood as he calls out “Oury” and it burns that familiar fire. He then rushed towards the injured wolf and calls upon his newfound power as he strikes out against the undead wolf, downing it. His mark burns slightly not enough to hurt but enough to remind him where this newfound power comes from.
Natah released her arrow into one of the wolves that had been injured, dropping it to the ground. Moving forward, she pointed and called out, "Veldyn, thisss one looksss like it hasss been sssick. Focusss on that one firssst. Weed out the weak onesss."
On her short legs, Lenore stumps up behind the others. As she mutters a prayer in dwarven, a glow of fiery radiance forms above one of the still-standing wolves. Alerted to trouble by now, it cowers away from the falling flame. Lenore utters a disgruntled grunt and reaches for her warhammer. She leans like she's about to stomp toward the wolves, but then glances at Veldyn and holds her ground instead. "I'll keep an eye on things back here. Go give 'em what-for."
While two of the zombie wolves quickly fell to the Zhents & Friends, The other didn't slow their assault, leaping and biting at Natah and Rivvil. While two of the wolves missed, the other two sunk their fangs into the arms of both Rivvil and Natah [21 to-hit on both; 4 piercing damage to Natah and knocked prone; 9 piercing damage to Rivvil], the biting Natah able to wrestle her to the floor.
Veldyn rushes forward, calling out the undead wolf in infernal (take that, Rivvil!!) that knocked Natah down. As he does, he throws the torch out towards a wolf further in the tunnel and pulls his longsword. With one quick sweeping motion, he lops the head off Natah's wolf and growls, "Get up Natah! This is no time to rest."
“You are a bad dog!” Rosie shouted at one of the wolves, who seemed to not care that the tiny gnome thought he wasn’t as cool as her puppy.
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Rivvil, taking a pretty nasty blow from the wolf, let’s out a Drowish curse as he strikes out at the one that struck him. The undead wolf goes down in one hit.
Taking the plain iron shield from her back as she walks, Lenore stomps up to one of the wolves harassing Natah. With a snarl to match the wolves,' she swings her warhammer and wallops the wolf upside the head. The wolf shakes its head but does not fall.
Standing, Natah pulled out a dagger and swung at the wolf Lenore injured, but the wolf moved at the last moment, and Natah's dagger sliced cleanly through the air. "Veldyn, if you could get thessse wolvesss off me, that would be great."
Grishkar sends another pair of ghostly claws forth. One rakes a wolf's flank while the other is brushed off. As the tide of battle quickly shifts, Grishkar muses over their falling enemies, "Too bad this necromancer is in the way. I could spend years picking through his findings before killing him."
The two remaining wolves, in blind obedience to their desecrated master, lunged once more at Rivvil and Veldyn. The two of them easily deflected the attacks, throwing the wolves off-balance as they did so.
Veldyn launches forward at the wolf next to him, stabbing it in the torso and lurching forward. Following through, he stabs it two more times for good measure. Satisfied that it's not getting back up, he turns his attention to the last remaining wolf and advances on it.
“Chewie just wanted to be friends, and you’re not being very nice,” Rose shouted, but again, the undead wolf didn’t seem to mind.
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Natah stepped forward, pulling out her second dagger. She swung with both, the first missing, but the second connecting, slicing a gash into the wolf's side. "Rivvil, focusss the wound." (Advantage to Rivvil on his next attack)
Lenore wades through the growing pile of dead undead wolves toward the last one standing. Dropping her shield so she can grip her warhammer with both hands, she rears back... and as she sets her foot down, she steps on a body and goes off balance just enough that her blow misses the wolf.
“I already knew that.” Rivvil says back to Natah as he whips out at the undead wolf and effectively drops it again ending combat.
With all the nearby enemies down Rivvil takes the opportunity to pull out his wine-skin that holds the healing potion and takes a swig out of it. (Takes health potion for 7 HP)
Natah narrowed her eyes at Rivvil. "Sssee if I help you again," she mumbled, walking past him.
“What? I already knew to attack wounds. On top of that on an undead creature it doesn’t matter what you strike since they don’t actually feel pain. It’s more about destroying them until the magic can’t hold them together.” Rivvil informs Natah feeling better after that drink.
*I think you mean “Thank you Natah, I appreciate your support in battle,”* Rose messages Rivvil pointedly. Out loud, she said cheerily, “that was a good team effort, everyone. We work quite well as a group.”
Natah only scowled to herself, and leaned against a wall of the tunnel, waiting for the others to decide they were ready to continue further.
*Why do I have to thank her?* Rivvil messages Rosie back.
*Because I said so,* Rose replied.
*Fine* Rivvil’s replies before he turns to Natah. “Thanks for the help in combat. I’m sure your tactical eyes will be helpful against the Duergar. Now, can we move on.” Rivvil says obviously uncomfortable the entire time he is giving this compliment out.
*Thank you!* Rose grinned at the win. Mordenkainen’s knickers, building a team was tough.
"I'm not preventing you from doing anything," Natah retorted.
*You’re supposed to say, “you’re welcome” or “it was my pleasure, I enjoy working with you.”* Rose messaged Natah.
Natah did not reply to Rose's message, instead acted as if she hadn't heard it.
*Come on, you have to make the effort too,* Rosie continued to pester.
Grishkar takes a moment to decapitate the wolves with heads remaining. He gives a sigh as though this was all just a great waste.
Rivvil sighs. He then proceeds to create one Dancing Light for Veldyn. “Here. It’ll help you see but it’s less light than that torch of yours.” Rivvil says before he rejoins Natah scouting ahead.
Veldyn picks his torch back up. "I prefer good light to *some* light.," he retorts. He then turns his attention to Natah and asks, "Are you injured?"
"Only ssslightly," Natah said quietly. "Nothing to be concerned with."
"Let me see," he says, brooking no argument. He goes in close to the wound, placing his hand over it and letting the healing energy flow into her. Satisfied, he nods for her to continue her scouting. "Good spotting that pack. Lets see what other surprises await us."
Natah nodded. "Thank you," she said flatly, then continued down the tunnel, looking for more enemies or traps.
Rivvil mutters some drowish curses before his light goes out and he joins Natah.
*Chewie, how do you make friends so easily?* Rose mused to her pet. *Sometimes I miss when it was just us.*
As Natah and Rivvil lead the group. They see a couple of things. The cavern walls give way to stone architecture, carefully chiseled and ancient. A stone doorway stands forty feet away, partially concealed by darkness. Resting to its right sits a large, purple mushroom, about the size of a human, covered in yellow spots. Through the doorway, a sickly green sliver of light glows horizontally, it's distance hard to determine due to the surrounding darkness.
Natah motions to the group to stop again, pointing out the mushroom.
Veldyn nods, not accustomed to seeing large mushrooms sitting around in a chamber. "I assume it's dangerous?" He whispers.
"I assssume," Natah hissed.
“Yes. It’s a shrieker. They let out a piercing noise whenever it comes into contact with someone or light. It’s native to the Underdark.” Rivvil says to the group instantly recognizing the mushroom. “A lot of people where I’m from use them as an alarm system.”
Veldyn slowly lowers his torch and pulls his crossbow up. "All at the same time?" He whispers.
Rivvil nods having his own crossbow ready.
Natah readied an arrow, preparing herself for a fight. "I have a bad feeling about thissss."
“It’ll go off if you’re within 30 feet. And let’s be careful of more fungi. This is the more harmless of Underdark species but some will literally turn you into a zombie.” Rivvil says to Natah.
Natah nodded and looked from Rivvil to Veldyn. "Ready," she said, aiming. She took a breath while the other two aimed as well, waiting for her mark. "On one. Three, two one." The three sent arrows and bolts slamming into the mushroom, tearing it to shreds before it could make a sound.
"Go team?" Lenore murmurs, mostly as an aside to Rose. She sounds faintly amused that what got the three working together was the common foe of fungi.
Grishkar rolls his fingers over and over, as though turning over a stone, and a mote of flame grows in his palm, "Ready when you all are"
Veldyn smirks. "Save it for the next one," he whispers, reloading and clipping his crossbow to his belt. He leans down and picks the torch back up before nodding for Natah to continue.
Rivvil looks to Rosie expecting her to make the others do the same thing she made him do to Natah when she was helpful.
Dispatching of the shrieker before it could get a warning noise off, the group advanced to the doorway. Veldyn's torchlight illuminated an eerie scene: dozens and dozens of severed hands dangled at different heights from the high ceiling of this vaulted room with thin, silken rope knitted into the flesh. The hands twitched freely as some fingers bent and contorted at odd angles. Four pillars, shackled with blood-ridden chains fit for a prisoner, stand amidst puddles of slightly coagulated blood. Scattered bits of flesh and bone are strewn across the ground, and the heavy stench of death and decay permeated their nostrils. Across the room and to the right, the group saw sickly, pale, green light pouring underneath the cracks of two different doorframes.
"Well, this is promising," Grishkar whispers, "Do mind the hands, I believe they may be a bit...spirited."
Natah backed up, eyes wide. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with the hands.
“While I disapprove of the Hands I do admire the ingenuity of the trap. The fungi shrieks which sets off the hands and then dozens of hands descend to grab you. It seems like there is enough room to crawl under. Let’s go and try and not look up.” Rivvil says before he begins to army crawl to the northernmost door. He stops at it to investigate it first for traps and if the door is locked.
Grishkar watches the drow with obvious skepticism, "I'm debating if I should tell you now or when you reach the door that we should try cutting our way through them first. Why crawl under them when we can kill them while they hang defenseless?"
Lenore eyes the hands speculatively and purses her lips. "Guess it's not like they can scream a warning or anything. But is there anyway whoever made them would be able to tell if we mess with them?" She raises one eyebrow at Grishkar, assuming he'll be the one with an answer to a question like that.
Natah watches as Rivvil starts crawling under the hands, and cringes. "Pleassse tell me we don't really need to do thisss?"
Rivvil gets down on his hands in knees in twisted memory of his dream and begins to crawl through the blood and decayed flesh, leaving a slippery trail of blood for the group to follow behind. Like a snake, he makes his way underneath the hands, heading towards the northern door. Slowly creeping back up and avoiding the hands, he checks it over for traps. Content it isn't trapped, he tests the handle and finds it unlocked.
Not wanting to just open it without knowing what behind the door he puts his ear to the door and attempts to listen for movement on the other side.
Grishkar shrugs and draws his new blade, "Usually, it's a telepathic link to anything within range and sight. But, who knows?"
Not hearing anything he motions the other to come forward before he slowly opens the door.
"A moment, please," Veldyn says quietly, staring at the display intently. It's as if he's watching them, wondering which of the hands are animated, and which of them are merely hanging as a morbid display.
Grishkar leans over to Veldyn and levels his blade toward a nearby hand, "Let me weigh a few options on your mind: 1.) We crawl like worms to a door, open it, and find ourselves face-to-face with an angry necromancer and possible minions while pinned to the ground. 2.) We cut hands like hanging meat, it alerts the master, we fall back to this doorway, and let the minions shamble through and into slaughter while waiting for the master. 3.) We kill the hands as stated in 2, but they don't alert the master, and we surprise him. I personally like them in the reverse order, but I suppose the choice is yours." He turns his blade and picks at its edge, "I'm just saying that each of us carries lethal weaponry, at least 3 or 4 have weapons idealy suited for hacking at hanging meat."
As Rivvil opens the door, a horrible, shrieking noise rings out from the other side. It rings within the group's ears and seems to echo across the entire compound.
"Prepare yourselves," Veldyn says, taking a position at the doorway.
While Rivvil closes the door, the hands start twitching in a frenzy, grasping the air around them in hopes of clinging onto something living. The others take up arms, guarding the doorway while Rivvil stays crouched on the floor, the undead hands grasping wildly above him. A few seconds pass and the shrieking from the shrieker dies down, replaced by something much more... eerie. Melodic whistling begins from the southern door as it slowly swings open, a pale, sickly green light pouring out into the room with hands.
Rivvil attempts to slowly and sneakily make his way around, avoiding the southern door and making his way closer to the others. Hoping that being low to the floor in the darkness will help.
Lenore, having stepped up alongside Veldyn in order to form a bottleneck, keeps a watchful eye on Rivvil, prepared to step back and allow him into the front line alongside Veldyn instead, if he makes it that far. Lenore casts one quick glance toward the opening door. "That can't be anything good," she mutters, to no one in particular.
Veldyn readies himself for whatever comes his way.
Natah cringes at the whistling, and nocks an arrow, preparing for whatever is coming at them (readied action, attacking whatever comes through the door).
As Rivvil gets to others he whispers to the others “What’s the plan now?”
"If you have something to clear out these hands, now's a good time to start using it," Veldyn responds in a low voice.
“Yeah. Give me a minute and cover my back if something comes through the door.” With that Rivvil starts chanting (Casting: Sword Burst) and this giant spectral Greatsword starts swinging around his body as he walks through the hands becoming a propeller of death for them. After a minute the whistling stops and Rivvil is done with the hands but he is covered head to toe in gore. He turns to the party “Now who wants a hug.” He says arms wide open.
Lenore snorts and then chuckles. But she absolutely does not make a move to take Rivvil up on the hug offer. Instead she takes another look around the now-undecorated room.
Veldyn finally enters the room, avoiding Rivvil's outstretched arms. "What do you make of the whistling?" He asks. "A tactic to unsettle those that get caught by the hands?" He glances towards the now-closed door.
Rivvil puts his arms down. “Probably. And now he waits as we struggle. So, do we go towards the whistling?”
"Screaming or whistling?" Veldyn muses. He looks around, noticing the snail trail Rivvel left more clearly. "Maybe..." He wipes a bit of the gore off of Rivvil's armor, "If people travel through here, they're bound to leave a sort of trail."
While Rivvil and Veldyn are having their discussion, Lenore spends a few more seconds peering up at the architecture. She nods to herself but then sighs. "Netherese," she declares, without additional explanation. "But damned if I recall anything about them or their building habits that'll do us any good."
Rivvil is distracted momentarily by Veldyn cleaning his armor. “Ummmm.....ummm...a trail. Tracks. Yeah I can do that.” Rivvil points out the footprints he sees. “Look at these. They’re obviously dwarf prints that go between these two doors.” He says pointing out the doors with the lights on them. “And he’s not alone. I see some skeletal prints and something flat-footed. Like a zombie maybe.”
"How astute...footprints belonging to a dwarf necromancer in his home along with several from undead minions. Remind me to get your advice on tracking an enemy the next time we get caught in their trap." Grasalfan says.
“They’re fresh. As if he was just here. Like he walked through while I was cutting up his hands and is taunting us.” Rivvil says. “And look. There’s a secret message in the prints. It says Grishkar is a second rate necromancer.” Rivvil continues
Veldyn audibly laughs. "So screaming or whistling. I imagine if something comes back through that door," he points, "we'll hear it. Lets go with whistling."
"And you are a pathetic drow slave. I can't recall, does that mean you are a good lay or not?" Grasalfan asks.
"Focusss..." Natah hissed sharply.
“Better than you’ll ever know” Rivvil says with a wink. “Let’s follow the prints.”
Lenore gets distracted from enjoying the friendly patter between Rivvil and Grishkar and peers a little closer at the nearest wall. "There are some runes on these walls, though. Ancient and probably of no value to us. But ye never know, I guess. I can't read 'em, though. Maybe Sunshine should take a gander at 'em? You know," Lenore adds, "In case they're a warning sign that we're about to walk into the room with spikes in a pit or something lovely like that."
Chewie, I swear, I’m going to murder these ********, Rosie growled softly to her dire wolf.
"You said they're Netherese?" Veldyn asks. "These ruins really must be ancient." He peers at the runes that Lenore pointed out. "And the runes are far beyond my education," Veldyn adds.
"Netherese, aye. If ye look at the way the grain of the stone is set... Never mind. Not important at the moment." Lenore scratches her chin. "More likely to be magical traps, I suppose, given they were Netherese. But like I said. Could be it's not important at all. Those tracks? They probably take priority."
“Well, if it’s a magical trap we probably want to know. I bet he has them all set now. I have some training in the arcane but I don’t know a lot about ancient human cultures. But, I can certainly try and figure them out.” Rivvil offers. “Unless you read Nethernese you’re not reading these ruins. I read about them while bored and not in training. I recognize them as that language but never learned how to actually read the ruins.” Rivvil explains.
Grishkar sits behind the others as they ponder, idly whistling while he reads the runes. Natah glanced at the runes for a moment, then turned her focus back to the door. "The runesss are gibberisssh."
“If they’re nothing then let’s get going.” Rivvil says making his way towards the door opposite of the one that opened.
Grishkar seems bored by the whole affair. What's the point of having a puzzle when you can't even begin to know where to start? But..."Natah, what was that mystery scroll you picked up back in town?"
"Ah!" Natah looked at the runes once again, paying closer attention. "Thessse! Veldyn! Thessse are the runesss!" She quickly fished in her pack and pulled out the slip of paper from Aliss' journal and handed them to Grishkar. "I'm sssorry. I forgot while in the heat of battle."
Veldyn turns his attention from Rivvil, to Natah, then Grishkar. He leans against one of the least gory walls, "Lets see what becomes of this," he says to Rivvil.
Grishkar takes the scroll and begins to compare it with the wall. "It's a code, and this is it's cipher. Thieves' Guilds will often leave codes throughout their territory and gift the secret to it's most trusted members while pawns received only temporary decoding notes such as this."
"Does that mean the cipher is useless unless it's for a specific set of runes?" Veldyn asks.
"Only one way to find out," Grishkar responds.
Natah quickly turned her focus back to the open door. "Jussst do it quickly." Seeing both Natah and Rivvil ready to pounce the door, Veldyn lifts his torch back up and assumes his position near the back of the group.
Rivvil checks the door for traps first. "The doors poisoned. See that spider. It is the handle and is imbedded with some specific poison. So, unless you're immune or resistant to it I'd suggest we go through the Whistling Door instead." Rivvil says.
Lenore scowls at the door, sighs, and lifts one finger. "Dwarves do have a certain natural resistance to most poisons. If we're dying to get through that specific door, I could give it a try." As she speaks, Lenore sort of involuntarily twitches half a glance toward Natah.
“My dear friend Natah The clever, slippery snake Pick that ******* lock,” Rosie encouraged through haiku.
Natah took a deep breath and stepped toward the door, while pulling out her tools. She began to poke around the spider, and eventually discovered one of the spiders eyes could be pressed in. After fiddling for a moment, there was a clicking sound, and the door swung open. "Easssy enough," she mumbled, peering through the doors.
"Good job Natah. Let's go." Rivvil says ready to go ahead.
Opening the door, the group finds a macabre study and living quarters. Two desks contain various supplies, varying from torture devices to studies on the arcane. A bookshelf contains bits of rotting body parts and other necromantic paraphernalia. A large chest sits at the foot of a bed, and a strange, arcane gylph, splattered with blood, sits on the floor, glowing and illuminating the room.
Veldyn nods towards the room, "Be quick, I think we'll have some company soon." He then positions himself at the Southern door, laying his torch on the ground and pulling his sword.
"Grishkar you look at the books, Natah the chest, I'll look at the glyph." Rivvil says heading to the glyph to inspect it. "This glyph is well drawn. I wonder what would happen if I marked it up or altered it." Rivvil ponders aloud.
Natah flipped the chest open and recoiled in horror. "Oh, godsss!" Inside were various body parts, drained of blood and neatly stacked. Strangely, no smell came off them. "Thisss isss meant for you... Grisssshkar." Natah quickly left the room, finding herself next to Veldyn. Pulling out her bow again, she busied herself with looking it over, closely.
"Nothing of value?" Valdyn asks the rogue.
"Not unlessss you find value in body partsss," Natah hissed. "Thisss necromancer bussssinesss is disssgusting."
Grishkar moves directly to the bookshelf and scans each book to tell it's general subject before stuffing it into a pack.
"Hey, Grishkar. Do you think you can use your undead hands to get rid of this glyph?" Rivvil asks the elf.
"Plenty of value." Grishkar beams a malevolent smile before diving into the chest and throwing hands onto the floor. Once all hands are removed, he goes to work with his Animate Claw spell in rapid succession. After a minute of working over his dagger and spell work, Grishkar has 4 animated companions tucked into the folds of his robes.
"No value," Natah repeated.
"I guess that's a no then." Rivvil says to Grishkar after seeing him put the hands in his robes. On his way out Rivvil looks at the books to see if there is anything on demons.
Grishkar approaches Natah until they are face-to-face, "Value is in the eye of the beholder. Where one would find dusty tomes and carrion, I find knowledge of ancient power and willing servants." Natah will notice a strange poking at her ankle. Looking down, a claw is scratching at her leg.
Natah jumped away from the claw, and Grishkar. "Keep it away from me!"
"Unless someone can get rid of a glyph I guess we're done in that room. And lets go through the Whistling Door next." Rivvil suggests.
With a chuckle, the necromancer approaches the circle and looks it over for a minute. "Hmmm, it's a teleportation circle of some kind. Could be that it's used for easy access to Mercer. I wouldn't destroy it just yet. Let's just be sure that we kill the duergar before he can flee through this."
Lenore, having cast a quick glance into the room and decided she's not needed in there, takes up a position near the east door and keeps an eye on the north door.
"Can we use it to quickly get to him as well?" Rivvil asks.
"If it's a means for them to escape, shouldn't we destroy it now?" Veldyn adds.
"Hard to say," Grishkar takes a moment to ponder, "People typically don't like it to be widely known that they have a necromancer close at hand, so I don't think it would just drop us at Mercer's feet. It could be for more clandestine meetings. Could be a good way for us to get the drop on him when we're done here."
"I don't like the idea of leaving them a clear escape," Veldyn approaches the room as he says this and looks inside at the circle. "How do we destroy it?"
"Like anything else, we probably just muck it up." Grishkar responds. Veldyn tests the circle outline with his foot, trying to muck it up. The bloodied chalk gave way as the magic glow slowly dissipates before the room is bathed in darkness, only illuminated by Veldyn's torch laying on the ground outside.
Satisfied, Veldyn went back into the main chamber, sheathed his weapon, and raised the torch. "Are we ready to move on?" He asks.
"Yes. Lets go. Whistling Door?" Rivvil says inspecting that door for any traps. Not finding any he opens the door. Rose and Chewie hang toward the back, just listening for anyone incoming. The "whistling door" swings open with ease, its hinges recently oiled and silent, revealing a hallway, about ten paces long that ends at another doorway. Two torches blaze with a green light which dances along the dark stone, standing sentinel on either side of the other door.
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Grishkar takes a bit if chopped hand from the previous room and roll it across the floor to check for any obvious traps. The hand rolled across the stone-cold floor, unimpeded by trip wires and triggered no pressure plates or other sensors. He works his way as quietly as possible across the room, waving his blade up and down in front of him as he goes to catch any airborne dangers. Once Grishkar reaches the end of the hall, Veldyn nods for him to proceed and open the door. Natah, standing next to Veldyn, watches curiously. Grishkar waves for Veldyn to get up front since he has the shield and better armor. With a sigh, Veldyn makes his way towards the door and asks, "Trapped? Locked?" As he looks it over.
“Let me have a look see. He likes to use Underdark traps so I have a better chance at recognizing them.” Rivvil says as he looks for traps on the door and if it is unlocked. Satisfied of its safety, he adds, "“I don’t see any traps and it looks unlocked. Is everyone ready for what might be on the other side?” Veldyn nods in response, setting his torch on the floor and pulling his longsword just in case.
Lenore stays a bit back from the door but moves up closer to the group, shield and hammer in her hands and ready. She tries to stagger her position with Veldyn's and Rivvil's in such a way that anything coming out of the door has to come through her before it can get to Natah or Rose. And probably Grishkar. Lenore also eyes the green torches. "And we don't think there's anything fancy about the lighting?"
As Lenore finished her questioning, the whistling resumed, seeming to come from the other side of the door. It quickly opened up, revealing a wide room, flanked with stone pillars like those in the "room with hands". The farther portion of the room is elevated, and an impossibly black set of double-doors sat at the far wall, writhing in shadows. Four, lanky skeletons stood behind stone fences with ornate longbows strung and nocked, their eyeless eye sockets gazing at the live meat before them.
As the group's eyes fixed on the skeletons and they brandished their weapons, a taunting, Dwarvish voice called out from somewhere along the far side of the room, "Ahaha! ... Wait. You're not one of those miserable Luskan fanatics."
“What’s wrong with being Luskonian?” Rosie shouted back.
"Luskanite, you half-brained, half-height filth," he shouted back.
“I dunno, we always called ourselves Luskonians, and I feel like, as someone born there, I would know,” Rosie replied in mock consternation. “Seems to me like you’re just being racist and ignorant.”
He repeats what she says in a higher-pitched, mocking voice, adding at the end, "Shut up you daft girl. You're not even worth turning into undead after you die."
Veldyn slowly approaches as the chatter continues. "What is your purpose here, necromancer!?"
“Oh man, I’m glad you said that, because I don’t think the undead pallor would suit my complexion.” Rose taunted in retaliation.
While Rose is trading barbs with the Dwarvish voice, Lenore squints toward the shadowy door at the far end of the room. "More runes. Or ciphers. That door is pure stone. The shadows are coming straight out of it."
Rivvil slowly approaches with Veldyn, his shield raised up. But, Rivvil is paying more attention to the door.
Grishkar strolls in, standing just behind Veldyn's shoulder (D5) and claps lightly, "Well done, I truly like what you've done with the place. Unfortunately, this is where it ends for you. I can't have competition in my way, after all."
"Cocky and an elf?" the voice questioned. "How original."
"Says the duergar using literally every Underdark trick in the book to try and protect himself." Rivvil pipes up.
Lenore eases up behind Veldyn and Rivvil and a few steps past Grishkar, leaving the spots behind the pillars for those less sturdy if they want them. (C6).
"Hiding behind stone and shadows, how duergar," Grishkar added with a sneer.
"The hells call you back" Veldyn whispers in Infernal as he approaches the skeletons. (Hunters mark on E12)
"Hiding?" Urmmormdh questioned, following with a vile laugh. "What do you mean? I'm right here." Blasphemous chanting began as his black figure was given form just in front of the shadowy stone doors. Behind the group, blood-curdling yelping and screaming began as a portal appeared from the middle of the air, spilling forth wretched and dretched (get it?) abominations from the Abyss. They poured out of the portal before it quickly closed, leaving them in the dark room with bloodied eyes fixated on Rose and Natah. He cackled once again before retreating behind one of the massive stone pillars.
Moments later, four zombies silently came into view from the opposite side of the nearby pillar, their claws grasping at the living flesh in front of them. Their fists pounded into Lenore (natural 20; 14 bludgeoning damage), Rivvil, (22 to-hit; 9 bludgeoning damage), and Grishkar (natural 20; 9 bludgeoning damage), while Veldyn was able to block the assault against him with his shield (11 to-hit; miss).
Although reeling from the blow she just took from the nearest zombie, Lenore reasserted her grip on shield and hammer and lifted her gravelly voice in a Dwarven prayer. At the sound of her words, all four of the zombies rocked back. Three of them turned away to run. The one that had just struck Lenore, however, snarled and did not run. Lenore cast a quick glance toward the front of the room, where the Duergar hid behind a pillar. But she recalled Natah and Rose behind her and decided to stay put, engaged with the unturned zombie. (C8)
Rivvil hearing the voice of the duergar rushes towards it (C15) and upon seeing him immediately calls upon his connection with Graz'zt to Hex the necromancer's strength before Rivvil lashes out with the whip. However, it seems he should have done dexterity because the gray dwarf moves behind the pillar which blocks Rivvil's whip.
Natah turned around and saw eyes focusing on her. Spotting the door, she quickly ran forward and slammed the doors shut. "We have a problem back here!" She began hammering her piton into the wood, wedging the door closed, hoping it would be enough. Moving forward again, she said, "Lenore, do you think you can take care of all thessse thingsss with your... powersss?" Stepping up next to Veldyn, she pulled her bow out, her eyes going wide, as she realizes she's just stepped up next to a zombie. (moved to C9, advantage to Lenore)
Grishkar lashes out with his blade at the adjacent frightened zombie, but the swing falls short. He digs in his robes for a moment and produces a crawling claw, "Kill!" He barks, and the hand springs into the zombie's face, raking a fistful of rotten flesh as it falls (5 dmg)
“You’re such a huge dickwad, and you’re not that much taller than me!” Rose called over to the necromancer. It looked as if the duergar would shake it off, so the pint-sized bard called out another insult. “And you should be scared and be hiding from me.” She then ran up and squeezed herself and her dog into the fray next to Lenore and Natah.
From the other side of the door, the group can hear the scratching of claws, wailing of fists, and screeching and fiendish yelping as the Abyss pounds on their environment in an attempt to break down the door.
Veldyn rushes past the zombie as it turns away from Lenore's holy symbol and straight up the stairs. Once there, he lunges at one of the skeletons, tearing its ribcage to shreds with his longsword. "Do you hear that, dwarf... it's your life fleeing from your body. Your time has come. Embrace death with dignity," Veldyn calls in the dwarf's direction in fiendish.
The skeletons, in blind obedience to their dark master, aim their bows at Rivvil, launching the arrows in unison. While they might've been master elven marksmen in life, in death, they were but mere shadows as the arrows sailed straight at Rivvil... and missed him completely. Urmmormdh let out a curse in response.
Encounter Tracker:
Battle Map:
Urmmormdh, rounding the corner so Rivvil is in sight, muttered some foul as a bell tolled in the background. The sound strained against Rivvil's lifeforce, but he shrugged off the assault (21 to-save). Frustrated, Urmmormdh rounded the corner once again.
The zombies fled from Lenore's righteous presence, cowering in fear as they were turned... all except for one. It continued its assault on Lenore, but she brushed the attack away with her round shield (10 to-hit).
Although obviously pained by the zombie's first attack against her, Lenore nods an acknowledgment to Natah and gamely lifts her warhammer. Her swing connects with the zombie's side. Glancing toward Rivvil, she shouts a few words in Dwarven, and a radiant glow appears around Rivvil, soothing the worst of his wounds. "If ye leave those fool zombies alone, they're harmless for the moment!" she shouts toward the front of the room, where the zombies she turned are milling frantically up against the necromancer's dais.
Natah took Lenore's advice and ignored the zombie next to her. Frightened, she raised her bow toward the dwarf, but the arrow sailed wide. "Rivvil, show that dwarf what your whip can do." (Advantage)
Rivvil gives Natah and wink and steps forward towards the Duergar. Rivvil takes some of his blood from his wound sprays it towards the Duergar effectively marking him. A quick Abyssal phrase comes out of Rivvil as he sends the whip, now also rung with Thunder energy, towards the necromancer. The strike goes through breaking through his arcane shield and leaving a nasty scar on the Duergar. Satisfied he moves back and yells out to Veldyn “He’s weak finish him.” (Critical Hit on Duergar. Finishes at C13)
Grishkar steps out around one of the pillars. "Dwarf, your time has come. Attack!" Spreading his arms, three crawling claws fall from his robes and charge across the room to attack the first skeleton in the path to the necromancer master. In a flurry, they cripple the legs and smash the skeleton's skull, leaving only a pile of dry bones. Pointing a finger to his adversary, Grishkar mutters a short, gutteral chant that sinks the duergar's heart and forms a cold sweat. The gray dwarf just manages to shake of the effect, though. The first crawling claw released in the forray skitters up to it's master, ready to charge in with its comrades.
Veldyn marches past the skeleton, ignoring its clattering, and approaches the dwarf. He swings hard and the dwarf who is now on-guard from Rivvil's massive attack. The dwarf easily ducks out of the way of the blade. "Call them off!" Veldyn yells to the dwarf. "If you don't want to join these zombies as slaves to one more powerful than you..."
“Lenore, it would really suck if you died because you’re a way better healer than me, so don’t do that,” Rosie healed the dwarf from a distance. She then tried to climb the pillar to get a better view of the duergar, but she slipped and fell back to the floor.
Rivvil encourages Rosie from a distance. “You’re the best. You can do it. You’re the little gnome that could!” In response, the little gnome that could flipped the half-drow off.
"Need a hand?" Grishkar quipped as his nearby claw patted Rose on the foot.
“Leave the puns to the professional,” Rose teased back.
The skeletons, their assault still focused on Rivvil, rounded the two pillars to provide clear points-of-view of the half-drow. They let loose their arrows, though only one connected, piercing deep into Rivvil's shoulder (22 to-hit; 13 piercing damage).
Encounter Tracker:
E8 Skeleton: 10 damage taken; DeadBattle Map: