Urmmormdh spat on the ground in retaliation against the group's taunts and jeers. "I serve the new god of death. I fear nothing." Yet, even as he spoke those words, he cocked his head to the side, as if listening. "As you wish, master," was his reply to the stale air as he muttered, "Krosh nag'tildom ehgroff." When the dwarvish statement finishes, his form disappeared into thin air. (For those that speak Dwarvish, he said, "Two-hundred-and-eighty-one feet northeast.")
While confused, Urmmormdh's disappearance did not mark an end. The zombies and skeletons still stood, poised to fight the Zhents and Friends. Putting off thoughts of his cowardice, the group focused their fighting on the undead, and after a handful of seconds, they were quickly dispatched, leaving the room filled with stale air, labored breathing, blood, and sweat. And undeath. Always the smell of undeath.
After they finish up with the last of the undead, Lenore cleans the gore from her warhammer and shield, glancing around with a scowl. "'Two-hundred-and-eighty-one feet northeast.' That's what the bastard said. Means we got no time for resting, I imagine. Though there's a couple of us could sorely use it."
"How far away was the room with the teleportation circle?" Grishkar rushes to the zombies first, removing their hands with his blade while his hand-pets pull arms of the other fallen into good positions for butchering. While the hands are hands, Grishkar quickly realizes that their rot marks them as far beyond the likes of his animate claws spell. "What a waste...Maybe his tomes will have some insight when we get clear of this shithole."
"Not so far as that," Lenore replies to Grishkar's question about the teleportation circle. She turns to face roughly northeast and ponders for a moment. "Were it some spell to teleport him, though, and that were his directions to it? Might be that tells us where Mercer is holed up."
"We don't have much time to waste. He's gettin away." Rivvil says pulling the arrow out of his shoulder and then putting his hand there to apply pressure and slow down the bleeding.
"Get a grip," Veldyn says to Rivval, pouring some healing energy into him (6 points). "Lets keep moving." With that, Veldyn walks past the others and towards the North. Without a word, Natah follows, bow in hand. Lenore grunts agreement and follows along, pausing long enough to put a hand on each Rivvil (4 points) and Grishkar (11 points), providing a flare of healing light. As she passes Rose, she gives the gnome a nod of thanks. With everyone else taken care of, she finally expends another spell to heal herself (4).
“Thanks Lenore and Veldyn. That necromancer put a little more pump in those skeletons. Let’s go get him. Then we’ll come back to this door. I think this is where he probably keeps his goodies.” Rivvil says following the group north. Grishkar gathers his claws once more into the folds of his robes and follows behind the rest.
Moving through the room of deceased hands, the group approached the northern door and opened it. The shrieking began once again, and they quickly cut down the mushroom, finding themselves in a small room with a spiral staircase on the far side of the wall that led upwards. Veldyn leads the group up the stairs, shield raised as they make their way upwards. Rivvil follows close behind Veldyn. Lenore hangs back to let everyone else go ahead of her and then brings up the rear, counting on Veldyn to lead them while she keeps an eye out behind them. She grits her teeth as she climbs, still hurting but not as badly as she could be, thanks to her sturdy dwarven constitution.
The spiraling stone staircase wound up and up and up, and the group met no resistance thankfully. As they approached the top of the stairs, they could hear voices shouting within the keep. As they reared the top and poked their heads from the room the staircase deposits into, they saw their plan was unfolding beautifully. Tents, crates, and strewn straw was all set ablaze in fire as the elves' flaming arrows continued to rain down from the sky as the deserter's desperately rushed in with blankets, trying to swat out the blazes. It was evident they had no water to assist in their efforts. Several corpses lay prostrate on the ground with a blackened arrow protruding from their chest, head, or neck. Far above along the battlements, archers hid in their murder holes, trying in vain to put an end to the flaming siege.
Even from the back, Grishkar seems to start connecting pieces together until he grows wild-eyed, "Someone get me cover and corpses...drag them back here if you need to. It would be easy to ambush someone looking to chase us back into this hole. 2-for-1 then..." A moment of clarity seems to reach the necromancer...but just a moment, "6...yes. Yes I can do 6. I need 6 bodies."
Veldyn continues his rush forward, and once he gets clear view of the inside of the fort, he looks out at the destruction and mayhem for the dwarf and/or Mercer. Cut the head off the snake, so they say, he thinks as he scans the battlefield.
“Let’s get rid of those in the arrow slits while they’re distracted. Then we can open the main gates for the elves to come inside and deal with all the extras while we focus on finding Mercer and the Duergar.” Rivvil suggests to the group.
"Stay low and stick close to the walls," Veldyn offers. "Lets make our way around to the South and take them out. Lenore, Grishkar, as we near the gates try to get them open. Natah... find a high place, stay hidden, and rain death from above. Rose... try not to die."
“You’re really making me feel like a valued member of the team here,” Rose rolled her eyes.
Natah nodded. She was clearly distressed by the situation and struggling to maintain composure. Scanning around, she began to look for a vantage point.
Rounding the corner, the group is careful to avoid unwanted eyes seeing them as they briskly cling to the shadows and darker recesses of the keep. The heavy oak doors to inside the keep are blockaded with multiple pieces of furniture and logs of wood, making the process of unbarring them tedious. Veldyn reaches into his pouch, pulls a vial of oil out, and slams it against the door and blockade. He then tosses his torch on the pile. "First door opened..." Pulling his sword, he continues south cautiously.
“Let’s hope that fire doesn’t prevent our exit or burn down the forest.” Rivvil quietly comments but continues to follow Veldyn.
"The tunnels are our exit, and if the elves were concerned about burning down the forest they wouldn't have been using fire in the first place. Lets go," Veldyn responds. "If I remember correctly, there's another gate to the South."
“Yeah. But elves are hypocrites.” Rivvil comments back.
"Jussst get me up on the wall," Natah said quickly, a panicked look in her eyes.
Veldyn just glances at Rivvil's slightly pointed ears in response. "We'll clear the battlements for you, Natah," he responds to the rogue.
Grishkar slinks behind the rest, staff and short sword ready for any that might be stupid enough to attack. He can't help but to feel aggrivated that so many fresh materials are left to waste in the courtyard. Lenore nods in response to Veldyn's orders and continues to bring up the rear of the group and scan for trouble coming from behind. She looks almost... happy, as if she's now perfectly in her element.
The Zhents continue on their path as the fire slowly rages across the convenient bonfire placed against the door. Just as they enter the rubble-filled ingroove, shouts ring as panicked hands point to the-now-burning gate doors. Dipping into another ingroove, they find a set of ladders leading to a closed trapdoor about twenty feet above.
Veldyn leads the charge upwards, stowing his sword and shield and moving quickly up the ladder at first before slowing just as he reaches the trap door. Then, in one quick movement he lifts it open and rushes the rest of the way up and onto the battlement. Natah clipped her crossbow to her belt and followed up the ladder, pulling the crossbow free, ready to shoot if needed. As Veldyn rushes up the rest of the latter to get onto the battlements, two deserters turn around from their murderholes with drawn heavy crossbows.
Veldyn launches himself out of the hatch and straight towards one of the deserters. Pulling his longsword he wraps an arm around the man's neck and squeezes, sword poised to kill him. Keeping the deserter between him and the other one, he growls, "Drop your crossbows and you'll live this day!"
Natah popped up and saw what Veldyn intended. She pointed her crossbow in the face of the second deserter. "You heard him," she said, nodding at Veldyn. "Or would you rather try to sssee how long you can live with a bolt lodged in your brain?" (17 to intimidate)
Panic played across their faces as Veldyn lurched forward, grappling one while Natah's crossbow lay leveled at the second deserter's skull. Without word, they quickly dropped their heavy crossbows and remained silent.
As the others come up, Veldyn says, "Bind them." His grip tightens on the deserter until he's safely bound. After they're bound, Veldyn assures them, "You've made the right decision..." Before knocking them both out with the hilt of his longsword. He then checks them with a quick pat-down before nodding towards the Southern door. "Lets see what other surprises await us."
Grishkar makes his way into the murderhole, ignoring the bound desserters. He peers out the window to where the elves had been attacking from. With a series of gestures, he forms a message in Elvish, letter-by-letter across the outer wall of the keep: "Infiltrated. Stand by to Enter"
Lenore is the last one up the ladder. She glances out the opening to see what Grishkar's up to this time. After a second, she grunts. "Fancy," she says, as she follows Veldyn toward the south door.
"Even the wisest sage knows that the most minor cantrip can become a great asset." Grishkar approaches the two unconcious desserters and draws his dagger, "And they also recognize that the smallest creature can topple giants," he smiles as his incantation begins and his four Crawling Claws skitter down from his robe and welcome their new brethren.
Natah opened the southern door and peered out. "There'sss another room like thisss one," she called over her shoulder to Veldyn. "Perhapsss we ssshould clear that one asss well? If I'm ssstaying up here, I don't want to be sssurprisssed."
"Wonderful," Grishkar beamed, his hands covered in fresh blood and black ichor, "More pets."
Veldyn nods, then sighs at Grishkar as he performs his ritual. "Cover the trapdoor with their bodies, at least," he says to the necromancer. He then stands and heads out onto the palisade to peer down below at the situation in the fort. Veldyn sees more troops attempting to put out fires, but the darkness and the smoke obscures anything else down below. With shield and longsword prepared, he makes his way to the next door.
Rivvil follows, a little upset they didn’t get to kill but at least the plan is going smoothly for now. Or at least he hopes it is having no idea where Rose disappeared to.
"Mmm hmm," Lenore replies to Grishkar's mini-monologue, in a semi-amused smile-and-nod tone reserved by the highly practical for their most eccentric acquaintances. As the others step out onto the palisade, she hangs back in the open door to keep an eye on Grishkar's back as he finishes his task.
Moving into the second murderhole room and ready for combat, the Zhents find the room empty, save for a corpse with a black arrow sprouting through his eye lying in a pool of fresh blood.
“Someone got a good shot in.” Rivvil comments about the dead body.
" 'Scuse me." Grishkar takes a minute to add 2 more claws to his menagerie.
“Soon your going to have to start stuffing those things into a bag. Otherwise, city guards are going to attack you on sight.” Rivvil says as the necromancer goes about his favorite spell.
"Hmm. You may be right." Grishkar's robes start to convulse and shuffle. Until a bulge forms over his shoulders and upper-back, "You would appreciate this, I suppose: Momma spider."
Rivvil shudders at the mention of Momma Spider. *Does the elf not know that Momma Spider is a sexual nickname some drow give Lloth?*
*Hey, do you copy?* Rose messages Rivvil.
*Loud and Clear. Where’d you go Wildcard?* Rivvil messages backs
*Seems appropriate. We’re almost done. You?* Rivvil sends back.
*I freed the prisoners and they’re willing to fight with us,* Rose reported. *Where do you want us to go?*
*Stay there. We’ll bring weapons for them to use. Find out if the old mans son is there.* Rivvil sends back before he turns to the others. “Rose found and freed some prisoners. They’re willing to fight so let’s bring them some crossbows from these guys to use.” Rivvil informs them.
"Oh well, very good. Everyone's making lots of new friends today." Grishkar's back-lump shifts and wriggles slightly.
*Oh he is, we’re friends now!* Rose messaged back.
*Perfect. We’ll bring as many weapons as we can. Directions to where you are?* Rivvil responds
*Well, I don’t know where you are, so directions might be difficult,* Rose smiled. *I’m on the north wall.*
*Good enough. We’ll find you.* Rivvil sends back. “Let’s take out this last murder hole and then find Rose and her army of prisoners. They’re on the north wall.” Rivvil informs the others.
While Rose waited with her newfound friends, Natah slid into the door, closing it behind her. "Backup isss here."
“Oh good, I missed you Nat,” Rose said softly, smiling widely. “Ex-prisoners, this is Natah. Natah, these are the fine people Mercer was keeping locked up. What do you have for us?”
"We liberated thessse weapons up in the murderholesss," Natah said, putting the various weapons down in a pile. "Welcome to the party."
“Ooh, murderholes.”
"Our resssident necromancer made new friendsss," Natah said, giving Rose a look.
“Oh, that reminds me, I need to warn our new friends,” Rose turned to the four freed prisoners. “We’ve got some... slightly unsavory looking members of our team. You have my word, we come with the best of intentions. That being said, one of our party does dabble in death magic. So don’t kill him on accident.”
Fallil grimaced while the pair of elves looked at each other curiously, but he nodded in agreement. Natah diverted her gaze, hoping the revelation of what she is stays hidden. With that out of the way, the sextet moved out to find the rest of the crew.
Under Veldyn's guidance, the group heads down a ladder and begins to move around the rubble on the base level. They aren't able to make it very far before recognition. One of the deserters, fanning out some flames, spots the four of them moving along the stonewall. He shouts, "Hey! Who are ye!" Recognition hits his eyes after a few moments before he shouts, "Intruders! We got 'em in the gate!" The shouting draws the attention of the two closest groups of deserters as they all look towards the darkened figures hanging just beyond the fire's main light.
Rivvil, acting the quickest after being spotted moved up the closest guy and lashes at him with his fiery whip leaving a bright red scar. Veldyn moves directly up to the nearest deserter, banging his sword against his shield with each step. Once he gets close enough, he roars out, "Come at me, deserters! Show us why you fled your duties to live in this shit-filled fort!" He sets himself for their charge, shield raised high.
And the deserters certainly came. While the one that Rivvil assaulted charged at Rivvil, slashing wildly and allowing Veldyn the chance to slash at his side while he ran past, the remaining deserters around him launched crossbow bolts and slashed with swords, deeply wounding him.
Lenore points her hammer at Grishkar. "Before ye start hauling out yer toys and playing, get yerself a mite further along this wall, where Rivvil can catch any o' them before they get around here." She gestures toward the more distant deserters the others had called out to. Then Lenore jogs along the wall, sticking close to it, and gestures with her shield arm as she chants a prayer. A flash of radiance splashes the nearest crossbow wielder, splashing at him from the darkness so quickly he can't avoid it.
"You think me so careless...such a grave injustice." It's not clear if Grishkar is acting a fool or an offended parent. Regardless, he rushes to a nearby wagon, launching a pair of skeletal hands at nearby deserters, which ultimately miss.
The deserters further away charged between the burning ground and tents, loading up their crossbows and firing at the whole group of them. Veldyn was hit again, pierced in the shoulder, but did not fall.
Rivvil continues his assault on the same deserter but this time misses. He then repositions himself to be next to Veldyn. Veldyn pushes past the pain of the two sword strikes and the bolt that got past his defenses and glares at one of the deserters that engaged him, yelling, "The God of Vengeance looks down on you this day, and your debts to him will be paid!" He then pushes past the deserter's defenses, his sword glowing with righteous fury, and shoves his sword deep into the man's belly. Bloodlust in his eyes, it's as if he doesn't even realize he's outnumbered and on the brink of death.
In panic and frantic retaliation, the nearest deserters swung as Veldyn as his longsword plunged through their ally. One of the deserters brought him own sword into Veldyn's side, whispering, "And may Bhaal drag you down too."
Grishkar, seeing the poor state of his Zhent allies, unleashed his swarm of undead hands as he furthered the barrage of arcane energy. The hands swarmed the two deserters without warning as their loud screams of panic and fear became silent, falling to the undead onslaught as the hands ripped apart their throats and eyes. Arcane energy blasted from his hands as two more skeletal claws soared through the air, striking one deserter and killing him but missing the second.
Lenore glances toward the clash of swords from the other side of the campfire. But she keeps her focus on the crossbowman who's now shooting at her. "More'n one way to mitigate damage," she mutters as she marches straight past the fire and plants her sturdy form in front of the enemy. Knocking aside his crossbow with her shield, she delivers a hammer blow to his skull that finishes the job her spell started.
At this point, the remaining deserters knocked their crossbows and fired again, focusing their assault on Rivvil and Lenore. Two crossbow bolts pierced Rivvil square in the chest as he let out a low grunt and collapsed to the cold stone ground beneath him aside his fallen ally, Veldyn. Blood squirted from Rivvil's wound as blood poured slowly from Veldyn's.
One of the deserters, their heart thumping so loud it could be heard externally, loaded a crossbow bolt and aimed it at Grishkar's dark figure. Grishkar released a twisted smile as he stared the crossbow down with a dead gaze. It fired, and soared by his head. He chuckled maniacally as he tossed two more hands from his folds into the mass of undead which writhed around the deserter's desecrated corpses. With an almost childlike glee, Grishkar tilted his head to the side and smiled at the deserter and his ally next to him as the full might of his undead swarm bore on them both. The deserter could only begin to turn and run as the hands lept on him, ripping at his the weak parts of his flesh as he fell to the ground, quickly bleeding out. His ally was able to deflect some of their attacks, but only a few as several hands clung to him, continuing their assault.
Unfazed by the necrotic assault, Lenore rushed past the hands towards Veldyn, placing a healing hand on his chest. "Get up ye crazy human. There's more fightin' to be done," she spoke as his wounded quickly sealed up. He coughed up blood, clearing his throat and looked at her with glazed eyes.
From the darkness, Rose's voice sung, "You too... Blackie! Wake up from your nap!" Her words laced with healing energy, his open began to open as he stared into the night sky. Selune's Tears shone brilliantly on him, and he felt as if he could hear a second voice, more enchanting and melodic, whisper sweetly into his ear.
Natah, moving with two of the prisoners, focused fire on one of the deserters, dropping him with two crossbow bolts. The elves moved on their own accord, their long legs carrying them swiftly as they dashed along the east edge, sliding behind a tent as they stalked their prey. Their prey, while not seeing the elves, saw the chaos and slaughter around them. Cringing as they witnessed their allies get torn to shreds but undead hands, dropped their weapons with panic-filled eyes and frantic voices. "... Parley?"
Veldyn rose quickly, unaware that he had even fallen. He dashes towards the nearest unarmed deserter and digs his longsword deep into his flesh. Eyes bloodshot and blood spilling out of his mouth he whispers, "Bhaal has rejected your offering." (Hit unarmed deserter, 8 damage)
Having just come back to Rivvil stand ups and quickly realizes how weak he currently is; weak enough that his blood magic could kill him. “I could really use a rest.” he complains while taking a defensive position and scanning the battlefield unsure of how it’s changed during his couple moments of unconsciousness.
Veldyn rose quickly, unaware that he had even fallen. He dashes towards the nearest unarmed deserter and digs his longsword deep into his flesh. Eyes bloodshot and blood spilling out of his mouth he whispers, "Bhaal has rejected your offering."
Through blood and smoke, Grishkar emerges from his cover as the image of death and horror. From his robes, a multitude of Crawling Claws come forth. Some skitter from below and tear at the legs and feet of their victims, others leap from his sleeves and shoulders onto the faces of foes. All the while, fire and decay spring from the necromancer's fingers as incantations of doom stream forth.
The last to fall was bloodied, though still standing, by Grishkar's assault. Left as an island among the damned undead, he was overrun. In seconds after toppling, the man's body was in ruins. Crawling Claws moved like a blight in their master's wake as he approached the last two desserters. "Now you have a choice. Join or die." The elf threw his short sword before him and to the pair, "As it turns out, we have a brand new batch of recruits, so space is limited. Considering your....proclivity for disloyalty, a demonstration is in order. Last one alive serves with us." The necromancer waits patiently for response, his swarm ready at his heels.
The two elves who had just ganked one of the two deserters scowls, but move back as a sign of non-interference.
Natah rushed over to where Veldyn was. "Isss everything alright? Are you okay?" She kept glancing at the two deserters. "What are we doing with them?"
Rivvil is silent and just sits down. Obviously, still very hurt from the onslaught of attacks.
Veldyn turns to Natah, then around to everyone that has joined in the fight against the deserters, finally assessing the scene. Long lines of red run down his chainmail and his teeth are red with blood as he speaks. "What did we find in the Northern section of the fort?" He asks. "Any sign of Mercer or the dwarf? We need to push the assault until they're all dead, fleeing, or surrendering." He looks down at the corpse of the deserter he just killed and spits a large glob of red on his corpse.
"I only found Rossse and the prisssonersss," Natah said, watching Veldyn, concern on her face. "Would you like me to go ssscout it out? There'sss a large building, if he'sss here, I think that'sss mossst likely."
"Lets see if the elves have still been waiting in the forest first," Veldyn responds, looking at the two elven ex-prisoners. "They'll be happy to see that we were able to save some of their scouting party. Lets raise the gates and let them in."
“The mess hall is up on the north wall,” Rose piped up. “Or at least, that’s where all the food is.”
Veldyn nods to Rose and points to the southern bridge and tower. "After we've raised the gates there, we'll have a better understanding of what forces we've allied against Mercer. Maybe we'll fortify outside the fort and let them make the next move..." He clutches his side as he says this, obviously in more pain than he's trying to show.
Natah noticed Veldyn holding his side. "You're injured," she said, grabbing his arm. "You're still bleeding. Can sssomeone do sssomething? I... don't have medical training."
While the group discussed amongst themselves their plan, the two surviving deserters looked at each other frantically, their eyes darting to the shortsword dropped between them, waiting to see who would move first. The wounded deserter lunged for the shortsword, but the uninjured one was smarter, moving for his loaded crossbow. The battle was over in less than a few rushed heartbeats as the uninjured deserter planted a crossbow bolt into the other deserter upper shoulder, angled at his heart. He dropped the crossbow on the ground in surrender once again, still scared out of his wits.
Grishkar approaches the remaining deserter, applauding, "Well done. I suppose he got....the point," he gives a sarcastic chuckle and waves his arms forward, "Let's give the man a hand for his works. Or maybe, how about several." The swarm of Crawling Claws surge forward and begin to envelop the man, "Despite my patron, I am true to my word! Let's welcome him to the fold!" Over several grisly minutes, Grishkar adds three more sets of Crawling Claws to his swarm, "Now then, let's proceed."
Rivvil stand up clearly also injured. He reaches down to the wineskin which only has one use of healing left. “Check their wine skins and their tents. Make sure they don’t have any healing potions on them.”
With the worst of the fighting over, Lenore hobbles to the wagon and leans heavily against it, taking the time to break off and pull through the most recent crossbow bolt where it pierced between the scales on her leg armor. Still sporting injuries from their encounter below, she's now also bleeding from additional fresh wounds. "No, no. I'm good." She pauses for a long, gurgling cough. "Don't give it another thought."
Glancing around, Lenore aims a pointed look at Veldyn. "If ye're actually asking for opinions this time around, I'm thinking if the opportunity to fortify presents itself, at least until we can do a little regrouping, that might be a wise choice. I can't speak for Rose or for yerself, but my spells are all but drained. Ye pull another stunt like that last one, and it might indeed be yer last one."
"Let'sss get the elvesss in here," Natah suggested while cringing. "We ssstill don't know where the necromancer isss, and none of you look well enough to fight him if we do find him."
Lenore nods in agreement with Natah. "If we're going into that gatehouse, though, let's be a little cautious about it. Ye'd think if there're more o' Mercer's inside, they'd be well alerted and joining the fray out here. But ye never know."
Natah looked at the gatehouse and took a deep breath. "I guesss we'd better find out." Hoping to convey a bit of confidence, she strode over to the gatehouse, hiding the fact that she was terrified. "We've killed your comradesss," she yelled. "Put down your weaponsss and come out peacefully, and we will allow you to live."
Veldyn nods to the others and makes his way over to the gatehouse cautiously.
Natah bursts into the gatehouse, finding it empty. Embarrassed by her display, she followed up with, "Yeah, that'sss what I thought!" She began looking for a way to get the gates open.
Lenore raises her eyebrows at Natah's display and chuckles with quiet appreciation. She stays where she is, leaning on the wagon and catching her breath, while the others go off to do their thing.
Veldyn follows her in, a slight grin on his face at the sheer ferocious display. He assists her in finding a way to get the gate open.
A few moments into Natah and Veldyn's search, they find what looks like the wheel of a ship bored into the stone with a long metal chain running into the ceiling above.
"Thisss looksss like it," Natah says to Veldyn. "Are you able to help me with thisss?"
Veldyn nods, taking the wheel in his hands and attempting to turn it.
Purely due to Natah's sheer strength, Veldyn and her are able to twist the wheel. They can hear the lurching of grating stone coming from the open doorway at the top of the stairs in the room.
"Sssomeone get the elves," Natah yelled out the door.
"Grishkar can likely send them a message again," Veldyn offered.
Rivvil comes out of the deserters tents and goes towards the group “No potions. But I found these.” He says holding out a couple of items that look important “Are we going to rest now?”
In Rivvil's hands, he holds a fearful helmet, made out of black metal with bone horns sprouting from it, a large clockwork piece, like it came from some construct, as well as a brilliant gem that seems to hold a light deep within it, and a vibrant purple stone shaped like a pyramid.
Grishkar makes his way to each facing wall and creates an illusionary banner depicting the Zhentarim crest and "SAFE" written in Elvish.
With the courtyard claimed and the gates razed and raised (tee-hee, word puns), the group took a much-needed rest after they blockaded the doors leading into the northern compound and the northeast tower. The stars shone brilliantly as Selune's Tears arched across the sky, an omen an elf might have taken of Sehanine's approval. Within the hour, their elven allies marched through the two gates, moving silently under the night sky. Counting their numbers, the Zhents realized a few of them had fallen during the siege. They marched into the courtyard somberly, under the leadership of the nameless she-elf. The two prisoner elves quickly rushed over and embraced their kin and clansfolk as excited Elvish whispers circulated amongst themselves, sharing their past experiences and memories.
Once the elves had reunited with their comrades, a more somber ceremony was administered as the equipment of their fallen kin was passed to the prisoners, who carefully and thoughtfully put on the gear. They ran their hands across the smooth, carved wood of the longbows, closing their eyes and bringing the grip to their lips with a kiss and whispering a few words in Elvish. Once the ceremony was complete, the she-elf looked to the Zhentarim as they partook in their own ceremonial passing of the magic items.
As the group is sitting around for their short rest Rivvil looks at all the magical loot he found. He knows what everything is and after some thought, he decides to thank and build some trust with this individuals by gifting some of his findings to them. “Rosiniana thanks for healing me back there. You didn’t have to do that. Here I want you to have this. It’s an Ioun Stone of Spell Storing. You can store a couple of your spells in it and then use them later. It looks like it already has one inside it. Some spell that lets you breathe underwater.”
Rivvil then turns to Lenore “You’re the newest and I don’t know much about you or dwarves in general. But you have saved me and the others with some of your magic. Here’s some piece of metal that I think use to be part of a metal construct. Dwarves are good with metal, right? I’m sure you could figure out how to turn this piece back into some type of construct for yourself.”
Next Rivvil goes to Natah “You like hiding your face. I thought this might help.” He says as he hands her the Dread Helm. “You can also use it to make your eyes glow red and then you look more like a drow. Helps with the scary thing you do.”
Natah looked at the helm, confused. "Ssscary thing?" she asked, looking to Veldyn.
Finally, Rivvil goes to Veldyn the half-drow has a blush on his face as he gives the human the gift. “This.....this is a gem of brightness. You....you....you can use it to create light. Small enough light to see like a torch. Or...or super bright light that can blind someone.” Rivvil explains before he quickly sits back down and attempts to hide the blush.
Grishkar stands behind Veldyn, staring at Rivvil. He holds the wrist of a Crawling Claw with fingers and thumb curled into a ring as he wags it up and down.
Veldyn, currently wrapping the wounds on his torso, nods to Rivvil in thanks. "Better than a torch, I suppose," he says, dropping the small stone in his pouch. "Remember that the Zhentarim demands a cut of all loot found in our travels. Be sure to set aside the appropriate amount for these trinkets."
“Yes. Well. I’m sure it’ll come out of our payment we were getting for the job.” Rivvil says while looking down and getting his mind back into mission mode.
Natah leans closer to Veldyn. "What ssscary thing?" she whispered.
A hand pokes Natah's leg. On the ground, a Crawling Claw skitters to another one and taps its wrist. When the second turn, the first springs up with fingers splayed and shaking. The second seems to collapse in fright. Then the first twists and waves as though a part of a bow.
Natah jumps away from the disembodied hand. "Ssstop that!"
Veldyn grins, strapping his padding on. "You can be quite deadly, Natah. You always seem to find a vulnerable spot, your threats are perfectly timed and effective, and you sharpen your claws to a point..." He pulls his chainmail up and drapes it over his head. "You can be pretty intimidating to some people."
Natah looked at Veldyn skeptically. "If you sssay ssso." She continued to look at the helm for a moment longer, then gingerly dropped her mask and hood. Putting the helm on, she looked back at Veldyn, with glowing red eyes. "Well?"
Veldyn lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Gods... you look like you crawled out of the nine hells." He pulls his tunic on and cinches his belt tight around it. "It's a pretty fiendish look if I ever saw one," he smirks as he says this and follows it up with, "I approve," in fiendish.
Not understanding the strange language Veldyn began talking in, Natah quickly dropped her face and pulled the helmet off. She pulled the mask over her face once again and the hood over her head.
One of Grishkar's claws seems to jump when Natah dons the helmet, then falls flat. Another scurries over and starts fanning it off.
Natah frowned, hiding her face.
Rivvil can’t help but let out the smallest of chuckles at these hands but, he quickly stops himself. He doesn’t want to encourage Grishkar.
Rose walked over to Rivvil and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to give me- thank you for thinking of me.”
Rivvil, knowing this is a hug and not an attempt to suffocate him, says “You’re welcome. You’ve saved both my life and Veldyn’s and all the others. You’ve earned it. Just make sure Chewie doesn’t attempt to eat it while it circles your head.”
Lenore blinks at Rivvil, obviously surprised when he hands her the clockwork piece. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before settling on a simple grunt and nod. "This dwarf enjoys working with metal, at least. Thank ye. I'll see if I can't figure out some way to put this to good use for the Zhentarim." For a second, Lenore looks like she might start fiddling with the clockwork right then and there, but good sense sets in. She carefully packs it away and turns her attention back to binding her wounds and getting her gear settled for the next step along their journey.
“I’ll always have your back,” Rose smiled at Riv. Chewie, you know not to eat magic items, right?
Chewie barked an affirmative as he began gnawing on one of the deserter's bones.
Once the Zhentarim ceremony was complete, the she-elf approached the group. In broken Common, she asked, "Where is this duergar? I wish to see the corpse."
Veldyn sheathes his sword after checking it for cracks and chips and gestures to the barricaded keep. "They're holed up in there," he says to the she-elf. "He left his people outside to be slaughtered and took refuge inside. Care to breach it with us?" He asks.
Lenore grunts in general disgusted agreement with the way Veldyn worded his reply. Taking a last swipe at her warhammer so that it fairly sparkles like new, she ambles over to stand just behind and to one side of Veldyn and tips her head at the elf, waiting for the reply.
Having rested and ready to take down that necromancer Rivvil cuts a fresh wound on his hand and smears it across his whip igniting it. “Let’s go do this.”
She immediately stood on edge, barking out an order to the elves who quickly ended their festivities, getting into arrangement around the northern compound. "They live and you rest??"
“If we did not rest, we would probably not have lived,” Rose replied.
“And you would still be in jail and down in the necromancer lab being turned into pathetic zombies. Now. Are we going to argue or are we going to kill shit.” Rivvil states not liking the elves attitude.
Lenore snorts and opens her mouth. Then she glances around at Rose and Rivvil and simply shrugs as if to say she couldn't have said it better herself.
She grinned wickedly at the defiant half-drow. "Alam'cair told me on you... Ssri-tel-quessir. Uhradwhael kept my blades sheathed." She glanced back to the compound and to her elves. "Yes. Let's kill shit."
“Good,” Rivvil says as he puts his unarmed hand in his pocket and finds the clockwork amulet. Finally realizing what it is he throws it to Grishkar. “Don’t say I never found something for you. It’ll help you be average at something. Which is better than your normal mediocrity.”
Natah stood, looking at the helm that was given to her. "Let'sss do sssomething," she said, gliding toward the barricaded keep.
As Lenore watches the amulet sail past her head on the way to Grishkar, her eyebrows raise as if she recognizes something about it. Rather than commenting on it, however, Lenore turns her attention to studying the front of the keep. "So. How're we doing this?"
Veldyn watches as Natah marches towards the keep. "Well, we don't know what waits for us on the other side. Likely they've barricaded themselves in if they didn't have a secret exit already established. Rose," he glances at the gnome, "mentioned there was food inside, so that would make waiting them out more difficult. I imagine they're poised to fire at the first thing they see attempting to breach the doors. In a perfect world, we barricade, open the doors, and wait in ambush as they starve inside."
"Then burn it down," Natah suggested.
"Hmm. A piece of a puzzle with unknown total pieces, purpose, or final design. Madness attracts madness, I suppose." Grishkar says.
"We could smoke them from two sides and force them through the entrance we designate," Veldyn says, glancing at the tower. "But the stone has withstood centuries so simply burning it down won't do."
"What about trap doorsss?" Natah pointed to the building she had found Rose. "There wasss one in there, there could be one in the keep. They could be long gone by now."
"We won't know until we check," Veldyn replies. "How well are you at scaling walls?" He asks.
Natah eyed the walls. "I could try. What do you have in mind?"
"The tower," Veldyn points. "If there are any windows, it's likely in the tower."
While they're talking, Lenore ambles a little closer and inspects the keep's walls, looking over the stonework for weak points and/or places Natah might be able to find the best for climbing. "Good news is, there're several likely places for climbing," Lenore says and points them out to Natah. "Huh," she adds as an afterthought. "Th' stonework's different up here than it is below. This keep is more recent."
"Let's check the rest of the courtyard before we come up with a plan," Veldyn says, pointing out the various areas they've yet to explore.
Natah nodded and began to walk to the east side of the courtyard crossbow at the ready.
As Natah walked to the east side, she found the flames absent in this area, concealing her movement under the cover of darkness. She heard the soft movement of hooves on stone coming from a large room built into the wall along the east wall.
Natah stopped at the door, hiding in the shadows and looked inside. Other than the movement of the horses, she saw and heard nothing else. She did a quick sweep of the building, finding no other deserters, no trap doors. Seeing that she had startled the horses, she backed out of the building slowly. Getting Veldyn's attention, she simply shook her head, indicating she'd found nothing.
Veldyn nods to Natah and gestures for her to go with him to the tower. He glances back to make sure the others follow.
Natah nods and begins making her way to the tower.
Rivvil is following shield and whip up ready for an attack. He leads them to the door to the tower that is unlocked and leads to a spiral staircase. He motions for the others to follow him as he tentatively climbs the staircase keeping an eye out for traps as he’s climbing up.
Natah follows, crossbow raised and ready.
Traveling upward, the staircase ends at a trapdoor in the ceiling which draws closer to them as they travel up the stairs.
“Natah. This door is trapped. Can you disarm it?” Rivvil asks after Investigating the door.
Natah nodded and moved in front of Rivvil.
Natah lifts the trapdoor just a paper's length and feels the slightest pressure. Peering through the crack, she sees a small latch attached to some trigger, and removing the latch from the trigger, she opens to door. A curious contraption is set by the trap door, rigged to several alchemist's flasks set against a large barrel.
Natah gingerly steps into the room.
Lenore peers up through the trapdoor in the ceiling and frowns. "There any actual enemies up there, lass? 'Cause if there's naught more than a trap waiting to be set off, maybe we'd be better off not getting anyone killed until after we find Mercer and his lackey Duergar."
Natah slowly scanned the room. "Nobody elssse isss here. I think you're right. We need to find that dwarf."
Lenore nods approvingly. "Ye need a hand down, lass?" she calls up to Natah, ignoring the fact that she is four feet tall and only going to be helpful if Natah needs to use her head as a step stool to get down.
Rivvil peers up. “Is that Alchemist Flasks?” He asks before he proceeds to rush up like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, man. I loved playing with the Alchemist supplies back when I was kid.” Rivvil proceeds to say as he looks over what’s actually there.
Natah gave Lenore a confused look, unsure if this was acceptable behavior. Deciding that it must be, or the dwarf wouldn't have offered, Natah began to step down, onto the smaller woman, when Rivvil bounded the rest of the way up. "Be careful. There'sss a reassson they made that the trap." Deciding she wanted nothing more to do with those barrels, Natah dropped down. "Thank you," she said to Lenore.
Valdyn continues to wait at the bottom of the tower.
"Come on," said Natah to Lenore. "Let'sss get out of here before he ssstartsss messsing with that ssstuff. That entire room is designed to explode us to hell." She began to quickly descend, and upon seeing Veldyn, began to pull him away. "We don't want to be closssse, jussst in cassse."
Veldyn takes Natah's advice and follows her away from the tower. "I was able to hear the conversation. Sounds serious," he says, looking up at it.
“It’ll be fine. We can use this to burn the keep to the ground once we’re done.” Rivvil calls downward.
Hey, Riv, can I have your stuff if you die? Rose messaged from a safe distance.
I thought at least you’d have confidence in me. Rivvil says with a ping of sadness.
I have confidence in you. This is a blanket request! We are in a dangerous line of work you know.
"I'm very lucky to have been able to disarm that trap," Natah said, looking up at the tower from a safe distance away. "It could have easssily taken my head off." Looking at Veldyn again, she added, "Then you wouldn't have had to worry about my loyaltiesss."
"It would be tough to explain to your sister after I find her," Veldyn responds.
I’ll answer that after I come back down with tons of Alchemist Stuff Rivvil replied to Rose.
"Why would you even care about finding her if I die?" Natah asked, confused. "You have no attachment to her. You didn't even know ssshe exisssted."
I’ll take that as a yes. Rosie responds.
Veldyn gives Natah a side-grin. "It was a joke, Natah."
"Oh," Natah said, not understanding the joke. "Yesss, quite amusssing." She forced out a fake laugh.
During the sweep of the remaining bits of the outer area, Grishkar takes cover in a tent. "Guard the entrance," he commands a group of hands. With a bit of blood and chalk, he traces a small circle on the floor and begins an incantation. After several minutes, he emerges again, rolling a small spider across his fingers. "Who's ready to move along?"
Rivvil steps into the room with his whip ablaze. The contraption he sees is several alchemist fires dangling precariously above the stone ground, their glass vials begging to be shattered to unleash the contents within. Separate strings are attached to each one, eventually woven together as they hang from a loop suspended from the tower's ceiling. The rope trails downward to a small, curious, mechanical contraption that the delicate rope is fed through.
Natah, still watching the tower, says to Grishkar, "We're waiting to ssseee if Rivvil blowsss up."
Next to where they'd land if they fell sat a large wooden barrel. Looking throughout the room, it's clear someone wealthy spent a good amount of time here. A plump bed with scarlet bedding lay against the wall, with ornate paintings of fashionable pirates hung against the walls.
Not seeing anything worth value or an easy way to take the Alchemical Stuff Rivvil comes down empty-handed. “They left in a hurry before making that trap. Very well done trap. It might blow the whole place up. When we’re done here Grishkar should have a hand set it off.”
"No way to ussse it to blow up the barricade?" Natah looked toward the barricaded building. "Would be an easssy way to rid ourssselves of a certain necromancer."
“I wouldn’t move it unless you want it to blow yourself up.” Rivvil explains.
"I'm not wasting a pet just to tell the enemy where we stand." He holds out his arm to show off the spider familiar, "Now then, if we can decide how to approach, I can certainly scout ahead of us."
"Perhaps scout ahead so that we can decide how we wish to approach," Veldyn counters.
Grishkar grunts and nods as his new familiar spins a string of web and leaps off the tip of Grishkar's finger, slowly descending onto the cold stone floor below. It scutters over to the west-facing door and then disappears beneath the noticeably large crack between the stone and the door's bottom.
A few minutes later, the spider pops back into existence atop Grishkar's shoulder and he gives a grim smile. "The good news is the compound is vacant. The bad news is we don't get any new flesh-toys to play with."
Lenore scowls. "Vacant?" she huffs. "I suppose with him being able to teleport himself away from us, we shouldn't be over-surprised. You think he took Mercer and hauled ass outta here entirely?"
"Maybe there'sss another trapdoor and they went back down to the portal," Natah suggested. "Either way, we ssshould invessstigate."
“We should at least see what’s behind that wall. With him gone we can attempt to track him but, I don’t know how easy or difficult that’s going to be.” Rivvil says
Lenore nods and waggles a finger, first at Natah and then at Rivvil. "Points. Good ones. We could go in here and see if we can follow whatever way they went. Or maybe it would be smarter to backtrack the way we came. Faster than tiptoeing into whatever trap they might've set for us inside here, with the bonus that we can maybe catch 'em by surprise." Lenore pauses for a breath and shrugs. "Assuming they're not long gone through that portal already, of course."
"What exactly are we dealing with in there, Grishkar?" Veldyn asks. If it's undead, it'll be easier to open the doors and take them out from the courtyard.
"Nothing," Grishkar responds flatly, "But nothing and something can sometimes be just as dangerous." The spider moves again under the door, skitters up a wall, and onto the ceiling. Grishkar's eyes roll to white and he holds out his hands, "Let me be your eyes and ears. Unfortunately, I can't use my own, so one of you will have to be a dear and guide me."
"Did you at leassst check for trapsss?" Natah said, looking at the door skeptically.
"It's a spider, not a cat burglar," Grishkar quips about 2' to the side of Natah, "It's a bit tricky to see through four times the eyes, so excuse me if I can't spot when a rat passes gas in there."
Natah smiles and moves to the other side of Grishkar, getting close to his ear. "You ssshould be able to ssse a tripwire, no?" Then she walks toward the door.
His head turns slightly toward the lispy voice, "My dear, I'm deaf and blind right now. Try again later."
Then his eyes turn back to white...
Rose, who took it upon herself to lead Grishkar, steers him straight into a section of un-even ground and trips him.
A swarm of hands assault Rose in a flurry of pinches and flicks
Veldyn leads the group over to start disassembling the barrier.
Lenore silently observes the interactions going on around her. When Veldyn makes the call to start disassembling the barrier, she doesn't ask questions. She just follows suit.
Rose attempts to shake every hand that attacks her.
Once the last of the barricade is down, Veldyn pulls his sword and prepares his shield. "Get ready," he says, opening the door.
Natah pulls her crossbow at the ready, and nods at Veldyn.
Rivvil has his whip ready and ignited.
Opening the western door, the Zhents barge into the common room within the compound, finding it deserted. Crates and barrels bearing Noltengarde's symbol are stacked against the north wall, and the two long tables lay strewn with random bits and other things: plates, half-eaten food, some copper and silver pieces, a deck of cards, a knife, etc. Sweeping over towards the southern double doors and opening them reveals a similar blank site: a simply kitchen with cabinets and a sink filled with dirty water with several plates stacked within it.
"Stay on your guard," Veldyn says, weapon still drawn. "Rose, Natah... check the crates. They're the only things I see piled high, there may be a passage behind them. I'll take a closer look at the kitchens." With that, Veldyn moves towards the kitchens and begins a thorough search of the area.
Lenore assists as best she can with assorted searching of the premises. When it becomes increasingly apparent that no one is there, she eventually repeats her earlier opinion with all the patience a dwarf can muster. "If th' gray bastard teleported himself away once, I don't find it too hard to believe he magicked himself and Mercer both out of here, too. Our best hope of catching up to them may be to backtrack to the room with the shadow door. Unless they've simply fled the premises altogether, of course."
Natah began to search through crates, finding the same thing in many of them, "Food and building sssuppliesss," she reported back to Veldyn.
Veldyn nods to Lenore. "What of the cells? And were there people here when Rose and Natah snuck in?" Veldyn returns empty handed from the kitchens as he says this.
Rivvil, who has just been doing as he was told, piped up saying “I agree with the Lenore. If nothings here let’s go check the shadow door. Make sure they didn’t flee there. If they did leave the castle I might get lucky and be able to track them but the longer we are here the less likely is becomes that’ll I’ll be able to do so.”
Standing in the middle of the common room, Lenore turns slowly in place, squinting as if she thinks she must have missed something. She takes in the crates and barrels Natah and Rose went through, the cluttered tables, and the double doors to the south that Veldyn himself just returned from. With a slow shake of her head, she asks, "Cells, sir?"
"I grabbed our new friends from some different cells, that aren't connected to here," Rose said softly.
"It wasss jussst Rossse and the othersss when I got there," Natah agreed.
Veldyn nods. "Lets see what's behind the big, dark, door then," he says, making his way out and towards the elves.
"The dooger teleported to safety, it's unknown if Mercer was with him. They're long gone," Veldyn tells them. "We'll continue to track them and hunt them down, but for the night we plan to camp out here. You're free to join us as well, as they could be lurking in the forest as we speak."
The she-elf turned her head to Veldyn after speaking with two of her clansfolk. She looked around at the slain bodies an embers of burned-down crates, straw, and wood surrounded them. "Such war is disgusting," she remarked, "which is why we avoid it it with Noltengarde's people." She thought for a few more moments, contemplating the proper course of action. "We will return to the village. The stone's protection is more imporant than fort's. We will place a barricade blocking them from returning by horse or wagon too... Make the slaughter at lumber house more... uninviting."
Rivvil nods “Making the lumber house as least inviting to the Duergar as possible is probably best. Otherwise, he’ll raise them for a new undead army.”
"Be safe, friend," Veldyn says, finally. He then nods to the others and makes his way towards the stairs to the lower dungeons of the keep. As he passes the others, he says, "Lets see what this dark door has to offer."
Jackmon rushed after them soon after Veldyn's conversation with the she-elf. "Hold up! I'll come with. Now that the necromancer is gone, I want to see what's down there."
"Lets go," Veldyn responds. "Dalton run off?"
"He died," Jackmon responded simply. "Took an arrow to the knee and bleed out abnormally quickly."
Valdyn grimaces and says, "An arrow to the knee will do it, I hear. Sorry about that. Hope you hid him well, else Grishkar will be digging him up."
Fallil and Denver tended to deserter's fire amidst the tents in the center of the courtyard. Their faces were weary, but they both had a plate filled with food from the central compound, eagerly eating from them while they sat.
Jackmon looked over at the fire and the large plates of food Fallil and Denver had. His eyes went wide as he muttered a silent curse, hid his face deeper in his hood, and quickly headed for the stairs leading below.
Lenore listens to the exchange regarding Dalton and snorts quietly. As Jackmon falls in with the group, she aims a dark look at him. "Best to keep yer wits about ye down there," she remarks. "There's a rare chance the gray bastard is still lurking about down there. If he gets his hands on ye, ye'll be lucky if the worst he does is stuff ye in a trunk." While her gravelly voice reveals as little emotion as ever, Lenore might sound a little bit like she hopes Jackmon gets the chance to find out.
Jackmon stopped dead in his tracks as Lenore mentioned the duergar still being alive. His voice a little deeper and off, he replied, "Well, I'll just let you lead the way then!"
Lenore snorts again, more loudly this time, and motions Jackmon ahead of her. "Fat chance. Get yer meat shield self to th' front of the line. Ye're working out some sort of redemption, aye?"
He groaned, bringing Dalton's old shield in front of him and a battleaxe at the ready as he lead the charge below. "Yeah yeah... don't remind me, dwarf."
"Don't need reminding o' nothing," Lenore replies. "Yer living might serve the Zhent right now. Don't mean I won't forget what I owe you if it ever comes about ye stop serving."
Jackmon said nothing, staying silent at her veiled threat while continuing to move down the stairs.
Rivvil smirks before saying to Jackmon “If you would have taken me up on my original offer you wouldn’t have to be front lines because you wouldn’t be able to walk straight.”
Natah had seen Jackmon's reactions and heard his voice, beginning to piece things together. "I don't blame you for coming with usss," she said, keeping her crossbow ready. "I don't blame you for avoiding Fallil."
He only gave a curt nod, his back turned to Natah and the rest of the group as his hood concealed his face.
Grishkar surveys the damage done. Content, he gathers up his swarm once more and meets the others, "What're we waiting for?"
With their questionably-loyal meatshield in the front, the Zhents travelled down the wide, spiraling staircase, reaching the bottom. As Lenore had noticed, the architecture was different upon reaching the bottom. They moved through the gore left behind from the crawling claw slaughter, noting the Draconic runes on the walls, and then reached the room with the large, double-doored stone door with shadows seeming to emanate from it. On the stone door's surface, they could see strange right angles etched across the face, all connected to each other in some fashion, with varying, small symbols lying in each right angle's corner.
Veldyn leans against the back wall as he watches. He knows his limits, and stuff such as this is beyond them. He keeps his weapons and shield handy in case something eventually pops out of the door.
Lenore peers at the shadow-covered surface for a few moments and then shrugs. "I can tell ye about stone. About those runes, I can tell ye a lot less. They bear any resemblance to the ones we saw before, in the earlier corridors?" She glances toward Rivvil and Grishkar as she asks.
“The door doesn’t seemed to appear trapped. At least not in the mundane way. It does however radiate magic. If I was to guess I’d say necromancy in nature but unless someone has some sort of magic detection spell I can’t say for sure. Just be careful when touching it.” Rivvil tells the others after examining the door.
Natah stepped forward, looking at the door, while digging round in her pack. She withdrew the journal and from the journal, the scrap of paper with runes drawn upon it. "Thisss hasss sssomething to do with thisss door," she said, holding the scrap up, looking between it and the door. "I don't think I'm able to figure thisss out. I know it'sss written in Draconic, but it'sss a cipher of sssome sssort." Natah peered at the symbols and shook her head. "I can't figure it out. Sssomeone elssse want to try?"
"Sure, lets give it a shot. I don't know the language of dragons but we have a cipher so it can't hurt to try." Rivvil says. "I can't read it but here. It makes like a sentence or something." Rivvil says as he points out the corresponding letters and the long flow of them to Natah who can read draconic.
Natah reads the characters pointed out and shakes her head. "Thisss isss ssstill gibberisssh. I don't know what it'sss sssuposssed to mean."
"Try sounding it out aloud. Maybe something will happen." Rivvil says with an excited look.
Natah looks to Veldyn for input. Veldyn nods for her to go ahead, saying, "This isn't my area of expertise." Natah nods and turns back to the door. Slowly, she says the words in Draconic, then pauses looking at the door. Moments pass, but nothing happens. "Maybe touch them?" Veldyn offers.
"Grishkar. Can you have one of your hands trace the pattern I pointed out?" Rivvil asks the necromancer. Grishkar gives a shrug and a hand skitters down and up to the shadowy door.
Natah speaks out loud again, touching the corresponding runes. Again, nothing happens.
"Well. Nevermind. Hmmmm.....should we just attempt to push it open?" Rivvil asks the group.
Veldyn feels the hair on the back of his neck rise as an airy voice enters his mind. "Reeeeaaaad the scroll," is the voice's command. (Suggestion - Rolled 16 for save - Failed) Veldyn steps forward from his perch and approaches Natah and Rivvil. He slowly reaches over and plucks the scroll from their fingers. Looking it over briefly, he begins reading every word on the scroll out loud.
As Veldyn's spoke each Draconic letter with a glazed expression, the cipher symbols glowed a brilliant blue light on the stone's shadowy surface, transforming into the appropriate symbol. When Veldyn finished speaking the words, the glazed look disappeared, and he looked up to see the whole stone surface glowing in blue Draconic letters. A magical hum that had slowly been building up while he spoke suddenly stops as the stone doors crack open, slowly swinging to the sides of the wall, and revealing a pitch-black room, mirroring the one the group currently stood in. A second voice enters Veldyn's mind as the words finish. This voice is almost alien, like a shrill. "Sooooo.... my blood still continues, thousands of years later."
Natah looks at Veldyn confused. "What did you do?"
"****ed if I know," Veldyn responds. "Something told me to read it, and I couldn't stop myself from obeying its commands." He takes a few steps back and retrieves his sword from where he left it.
“Looks like he just has a talented tongue.” Rivvil says with a wink before he summons his dancing lights to attempt to illuminate the newly opened room.
"Sssomthing told you?" Natah looked at the others, fearful. "Isss... isss sssomething controlling you?" She brought her crossbow up before her chest.
After retrieving his weapon, Veldyn looks into the darkness. "Who... what... are you?" He asks it. Veldyn's words hung in the air, met with absolute silence. Natah stared at Veldyn intensely. As soon as Veldyn started with the weird behavior, Lenore took her hammer from her belt and started watching Veldyn like a hawk. A short, stumpy hawk.
"There's at least two," Veldyn says to the others as they look at him with skepticism. "They spoke in my head..."
"That's not th' most reassuring thing I've ever heard ye say." Without taking her eyes off Veldyn, she nods toward the newly-opened room. "Coming from in there, maybe?"
Natah slowly lifted her crossbow, until it was aimed at Veldyn. "Are you a liability?" Veldyn gives Natah a cold, hard stare in response.
“He’s fine.” Rivvil says in Veldyns defense. “The priestess Of Lloth have her speak to them in their heads all the time.”
"I need to know, Veldyn," Natah said, clearly frightened. "We all need to know."
Lenore snorts in Rivvil's direction. "Still not reassuring." She aims a frown at Veldyn. "Don't be death-staring th' lass. Ye'd ask the same question, were it one of us."
His Master speaks, yes?" Grishkar moves forward, the weight of his hand-army slumping his shoulders, "It's not uncommon by any means."
"I'm in control of myself right now," he responds. "Else I'd be doing something else than trying to calm your paranoia."
"And if you ssshould lossse control?" Natah's crossbow lowered slightly.
“He’s not possessed by a demon. I would know. Demon possessions was one of the things I was taught to look for in someone. It’s all in the eyes and his eyes are just as blue as they normally are.” Rivvil explains. Lenore rolls her eyes, whether at Veldyn or Rivvil, it's hard to tell. But she does loosen her grip on her hammer.
"Whatever it is, it wanted me to open the door," Veldyn explains. "Be ready for anything." Natah nodded, aiming her crossbow toward the door, but her eyes never leaving Veldyn. Lenore grunts in agreement. Finally taking her eyes off Veldyn, she moves up a bit closer to the door (but not too close) and tries to peer inside using her darkvision.
Grishkar steps up next to Veldyn and behind Lenore, "If you stare too long into The Abyss, well...." His robes wriggle excitedly.
As Rivvil's dancing lights cross the threshold of darkness, their light dwindles and fades, illuminating nothing. Lenore's darkvision helps her sight, allowing her to see the bare outline of the room. Just within the edge of her darkvision, she sees a dark figure disappear beyond the limit of her darkvision, fading into the room's inky blackness.
“Really. I’m getting tired of my lights not working.” Rivvil mutters before looking at Veldyn. “See if your gem works.”
Lenore frowns, and her grip tightens once more on her hammer. "There's someone in there. They've moved to the back of the room, out of my sight. But I most certainly saw someone."
Natah turned her attention to the door. "If we have to come in there after you," she yells. "You won't like the end resultsss. I sssuggessst you come out here. Now!" Natah's intimidation is met with silence, as whatever was there had either disappeared or not given in to your threats.
Veldyn touches the gemstone he tied to his belt and whispers, "Lumos." The gemstone flares to life in a brilliant light. (30' bright, 30' dim) Veldyn's gemstone shone brightly within their room, but the light dimmed significantly once it crossed the blackened threshold of the door's frame. Still, the bright light was able to pierce the inky blackness his vision offered him, showing him the room up to thirty feet out.
Rivvil gives a silent nod and slowly and carefully begins to make his way into the room. Valdyn enters as well, crotch-stone leading the way. Crossbow raised and at the ready, Natah followed close, making sure not to let Veldyn get too far away from her. Lenore watches with a thoughtful frown as the others cross the threshold. After a few seconds, she heaves a resigned sigh and follows after, shield and warhammer in hand.
The group slowly moved through the door's threshold with extreme caution. As they crossed the entrance, their senses seemed to dull. Sounds were muffled slightly. Light didn't shine as brightly. Even the colors they wore seemed to be drained from their vivid hues, giving the whole atmosphere a dreary and depressing feeling. Off in the darkness, beyond the edge of Veldyn's shining codpiece, a voice travelled, echoing across the dark stone. "Friends... friends... friends... friends... friends!" the voice called in an unfamiliar tone. Those with darkvision could make out a humanoid-sized figure with a massive cowled head, walking from the edge of their darkvision and towards the edge of Veldyn's light.
"Show, yourself." Rivvil says still on edge.
They heard the sound of groveling from the figure as he continued at the same pace. "I haven't had to run for centuries. I'm not about to do so now! But you've followed orders and pleased Our Unholy Lord, so that is good news." As the figure talks and walks, he eventually steps into view of the group. What first appeared as a massive, cowled head became three distinct, separate heads, each one cowled, the flesh stripped from their faces long ago.
Grishkar smiles amidst the sensory trap of the room, "Who are you and who do you serve?"
The central mouth hung open for a moment and then closed again. They saw that the other two skulls' mouths were bound by a metal plate grafted into the jaw, preventing them from speaking. "Your... your Organ sent the uninitiated, mere recruits, to open a Netherese portal for the Baleful God's gain? Gods, your Thought has balls larger than my heads!" He laughed heartily, looking at the panic and confusion in their faces. "My oh my... well, your Thought has their reasons for their Organ, just as I do for mine."
"Never hears it like that, but I suppose so, yes. My Thought's balls are quite respectable," Grishkar responds.
He chuckled, looking over Grishkar. "You must be a low-ranking Tooth. I heard the Tooth opening this would be shorter but... you know. Interplanar communication is so shoddy and unreliable."
"Wait. Tooth. Do you mean Fang? Are you....are you working with the Zhentarim?" Rivvil asks the skeletal creature.
He threw his arms open wide in dramatic effect, bowing down low. "But where are my manners. Welcome to the Shadowfell! I am this Organ's humble Thought, Drek'rauvokai. Zhentarim? I don't know the full extent of Our Undead King's intracate plans, but it's possible such allegiances are formed."
Lenore hangs back, listening closely but letting Rivvil and Grishkar do the talking. "Not sure what that thing is," Lenore finally murmurs quietly to Rivvil and Grishkar. "But it's fair brimming with arcane power. Tread light. But ah... keep talking, by all means."
"Organ is some type of organization. I think he believes we're a part of it and sent here to open up a portal between the Material Plane and the Shadowfell." Rivvil whispers to the others.
Grishkar takes a step forward, "Great Harbinger, I believe our purposes are entwined, but you must forgive this mortal shell for being so ignorant from so few years of reprehensible Life. Would you illuminate further on yours or your master's purpose? I believe we have much to gain from each other's assistance." A few hands creep down from Grishkar's robes like curious spiders.
Rosie stands at the edge of the threshold, not going over it.
Veldyn watches the creature as it stalks through the shadows, noting that its voice didn't sound like the second one he heard.
Overhearing Rivvil's whispering, the creature smiled. "By Bhaal's balls! Your Thought really keeps the noose of knowledge short on her part of the Body. But, bravo to her for keeping you all unaware of even why you came here. Please, send Lady Erenelor my regards, and tell her to try and be more open with the knowledge she divvies."
A gleam shone in the undead's purple orbs embedded with its skull's sockets. "You seek knowledge, young Tooth?" he taunted haughtily. "Knowledge is," he gestured with a wide sweep of his hand to each of you, "what brought you into this cult in the first place, no? What did she or one of her Memories share with you? That this cult was to some obscure god of knowledge? Or that we were some book-reading club who met every tenday?"
His ever radiating bony smile seemed to almost broaden even wider as he offered, "As a reward for assisting in the Undying King's schemes, I will truthfully answer the first question that comes out of one of your mouths." He added as an afterthought. "But no whispering and cheating! Whose thirst for knowledge is strongest amongst you?"
"What does it mean, 'my blood still continues, thousands of years later' and who was it that invaded my mind with those words?" Veldyn speaks up, taking this 'reward' for himself.
"So many questions, all to be summed into one. You say that you are a servant of an Undead King, and I found a text supposedly penned by one of the legendary names of such arts." Grishkar's inhibitions were burned to cinders by the enticement of what could come, "Where can I obtain power over Life, Death, and Undeath? I must know!"
He laughed loudly as he watched Grishkar and Veldyn perform their race of words. Turning to Veldyn, he simply said, "So. You are the one."
Lenore just holds her ground, watching and listening but keeping her mouth firmly shut.
Questions swirled through Natah's mind. She desperately wanted to know where her sister was, but each time she tried to ask, the words died on her lips. Quickly, she knew she had missed her opportunity, as others spoke their questions. She stood, frozen in terror, wondering what was next. Would they all be killed by this creature? Would they manage to escape. Blood pumped in her ears, making it difficult to concentrate on what was being said.
Rivvil is confused by this creature and what he thinks they are. He is also unsure of the name the weird skeleton mentions. But with the promise of the answering of any question his hormonal teenage mind takes over as he looks at Veldyn and his crotch light. But, he shakes his head and instead gets back into a defensive stance in-case this weird skeleton attempts to attack them.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he excused the Zhents. "Your role is finished. I would... advise against staying in this keep on either side of the planar portal for much longer."
"We should go," Veldyn says to the others. "I don't think this creature knows how to bluff."
He cackled. "Stay. I can't promise the Shadowfell's denizens will take kindly to the living though."
Grishkar seems desperate to stay and consume ounce of knowledge to be had, "Who is your Master? I must know!" He drew his grim, iron-bound, leather tome and shook it at the skeletal being, "This thing gave me a glimpse of true power, but it is a cup compared to the ocean that lies out of my reach."
Lenore casts an uncertain look at Veldyn but takes a couple of obedient steps backward. "C'mon, Sunshine," she mutters mostly under her breath, like she knows Grishkar wouldn't listen whether he could hear her or not.
Rivvil listens to Veldyn and begins to back up and head towards the portal but he doesn't turn his back on the skeletal creature.
The figure only glanced up with two of his heads as he eyed Grishkar's tome. "A likely fake, your book is then." His voice treated the word "book" as if it was a tart berry. Still, his eyes lingered on Grishkar, seeming to peer at something within him, before turning his back to the Zhents and moving into the darkness.
"What do you mean 'a fake'?" Grishkar's words seemed to be swallowed by the otherworldly gloom in the air. Defeated, he shambles out of the room, looking only slightly better than the duegar necromancer's pets.
Veldyn waits until everyone is out before he leaves himself.
As they exit the creepy room of doom, Lenore clears her throat before speaking, keeping her voice low. "Erenelor. That's th' name o' the high cloakmage in Neverwinter, isn't it? Sits on the Nevercourt? And ah... Well, court intrigue isn't really my thing. But if Mercer and Duergar are aligned with Luskan, yet this Erenelor is the one pulling their strings, then... Well, there's some dots trying to connect that make me a bit anxious. Is that thing back there going to make the Zhentarim's goals easier or tougher?"
Natah exited the doors quickly, and continued up the stairs, not wanting to be anywhere near it any longer. Once outside, she sat on the ground heavily, taking deep breaths.
"You're assuming she's with Mercer and the dooger rather than with the Fang sent here to research the door. Either way, we'll find the answers in Neverwinter," Veldyn says as he exits.
“Do we leave this portal open then or.....what?” Rivvil says looking to the others.
"I say we heed that creature's warning and get out," Veldyn responds. "Lets find a place to camp away from the fort."
Lenore bristles momentarily. "I ain't assuming nothing, fancy pants. Just putting the questions out there to be considered." She appears for a moment to be about to say much more. Then she glances around at where they are and bites back whatever else she was going to add. "But as ye say. I imagine there are better places to be before we set about answering them."
“Let’s. And remember we’re to get the son back to Hannock safely. What was his name again?” Rivvil asks having genuinely forgotten.
"Fallil," Rose piped up, keeping Chewie calm. He was whimpering in the corner. "Chewie didn't want to go in there, so we held back."
“Thanks Rose. Let’s make sure to get him back safely. But I’m ready to gather him up and start the trek back.” Rivvil says, tiredness clear in his eyes.
Lenore snorts. "Th' wolf's probably smarter than the rest of us put together." Without waiting for Veldyn's orders this time, she stumps back the way they came, toward the spiral stairs that will take them back into the keep to collect whoever needs collecting.
The Zhents retreated from the Netherese level of the keep, moving up the winding staircase to the upper courtyard where Fallil and Denver rested, having stuffed themselves with food and were sound asleep atop bundles of unburnt hay and blankets. Jackmon quickly moved and pried a full-face helmet off of one of the corpse's heads, placing it on his own in an attempt to keep his identity concealed from the sleeping duo. Veldyn approached the pair with a firm shake, jostling them awake with startled looks. "It's not safe here," Veldyn simply stated as he helped them to their feet. While confused, the gravity in his voice brought agreement from the two worn and fatigued veterans, who quickly packed up their things and left with the Zhents and Jackmon.
Heading deeper into the Neverwinter Wood, Rivvil's darkvision secured the group a safe place to rest, one that they hoped wouldn't be disturbed by another clan of elves. Rivvil eagerly showed the spot, nestled against a cliff on one side with a thick bundle of bush and low trees and the second and a small river on the third, leaving the fourth side open to come and go. Placing down his cot, he invited Fallil and Denver to set up their spots next to his, even going so far as to shoe away Grishkar from trying to lay claim to it. He smiled gently as he helped the two men get settled and fall back asleep, casting his vision to Veldyn, who only appeared distant and uninterested. Dismayed, Rivvil fell asleep closely to Fallil, trying to use his body for heat in the cold environment. Far in the background, Natah watched the proceedings with passive amusement, glancing around at their surroundings, listening to the birds flutter through the air and to small critters scurry across the ground.
It was a near-freezing night for the group without a fire as they shivered from the dropping temperature. When they awoke, Rivvil and Fallil were practically stuck together, with something only the two of them knew poking Fallil from Rivvil. Fallil smiled and blushed slightly as he awoke, glancing over to his older and huskier companion, Denver, who was still knocked out cold, deep in sleep. Natah was frigid, barely able to move in the cold, but hustled about with all of her might to get a fire started to warm them up.
With the fire started and the entire ensemble awake and geared, they warmed themselves by the fire, munching down what rations they had and what they had scavenged from the keep before setting out into the forest. While Rivvil's life might've been spent underground, he was oddly precise in his spatial awareness, able to guide the group back to the road quickly which connected Noltengarde and the keep. Spreading out in case of an ambush, they proceeded carefully down the road, passing the log house slaughter continuing southwest.
Only a few minutes passed after passing the old log house until they came across an unknown human corpse, fully geared as a veteran fighter, lying in the center of the road face-down in a pool of his own blood. Within his helm, Jackmon let out a sound of curiosity before exclaiming, "By the Gods, that's Mercer!"
Fallil and Denver cast curious looks to Jackmon before moving closer, examining the corpse. "Aye," Denver confirmed, "It's the bastard alright." He spit on his corpse, looking around. "I wonder what done 'im in."
"Be careful. If it was the duergar he might be a zombie." Rivvil says as he picks up a stone and chucks it at the corpse hoping that if it is a zombie it'll respond to the blunt force. Rivvil's rock clunks against the corpse's studded leather armor, bouncing off and provoking no reaction. Rivvil being very careful, is going to approach and attempt to flip the corpse over onto its back.
Veldyn joins Rivvil near the corpse, inspecting it closer. Flipping the corpse over, there was no sense or sign to indicate the corpse as a zombie. Rivvil observed the large, slashing marks across Mercer's chest and back, leaving a swathe of necrotic tissue with each gash. Veldyn focused on the silver longsword Mercer still grasped firmly in his hand, the cold having sealed he corpse's grip tight. The blade of the sword had several runes inscribed along both edges, their appearance similar to the runes found in the Netherese dungeon, which glowed faintly with ice-blue light as it rested against the cold ground.
"He won't be needing that any longer," Veldyn comments, breaking the corpse's grip from the sword and giving it a swing. The sword rung lightly as it cut through the air, the runes' shimmer intensifying in the cold air. Veldyn spotted a matching ornate scabbard strapped around Mercer's waist while he practiced a few techniques with his new blade. At the sight of the scabbard, Veldyn slices Mercer's belt and pulls the scabbard off. He then sheaths the blade and takes a moment to strap it to his own belt.
"I can attempt to check it for magical properties when we rest again but, lets see what else Mercer was holding on to." Rivvil says before he begins to loot whatever else is on the corpse.
Lenore watches Veldyn prancing around with the pretty new sword for a few moments. "Like it was made for ye," she finally remarks, without inflection. "Don't forget, ye'll owe the Zhentarim a percentage of its worth." Then she wanders closer to Mercer's body to have a closer gander at the necrotic-tainted gashes on it. "Just as an afterthought," Lenore remarks to Rivvil and Veldyn and whomever else is close enough to hear, as she idly looks over the gashes. "We made something of a deal with the eldarin, didn't we? To bring the Lord fella from Noltengarde to her for a visit? We planning to uphold our end of that deal now or later?"
"Eager to get back to the town that killed your friends and locked you in a chest?" Veldyn asks. "They're elves... they're patient. We have other matters to tend to."
Lenore straightens and eyes Veldyn for a long moment. "Ye're making assumptions again. About a whole lot a things."
"Perhaps..." Veldyn says, sticking his boot on the Mercer corpse's face. "Like how this one's small band managed to route a group of Fangs... with one survivor. How that survivor was captured, humiliated, and very nearly ended up being taken for interrogation only to end up another dwarf's undead slave. And now you return a failure to the Ardragon in Neverwinter. Is that what you fear, Lenore? Do you want our help to finish your mission and help the 'friends' you abandoned?" He locks eyes with Lenore. He felt she'd been quietly judging them all along, but it was time to be out with it. For someone that failed so terribly, she was quite cocky.
Lenore meets Veldyn’s gaze without blinking but narrows her eyes, like she’s actually considering her words before speaking, for once. “Every good commander knows that a mission failed on account of sending soldiers into a situation with inaccurate intelligence is no failure on account of the soldiers,” she finally replies. “The fact that we’ll be bringing the Zhentarim a better understanding of the actual situation in Noltengarde is as valuable as what my squad set out to do to begin with. Nor did I abandon anyone. I was ordered to get out and take word to Neverwinter if I could, an’ that’s what I’m doing. So nah, I’m no worried about the Ardragon’s reaction. And I am, of course, grateful for th’ rescue from that blasted chest, as well as for being allowed the opportunity for th’ chance to aid in setting that situation at least a bit a’right again. Yer assumption is that every time I end a string o’ words in a question mark, I’m somehow challenging yer decisions. Are ye truly the sort of leader, then, who prefers yer lackeys to simply carry out yer orders with no discussion? Because ye struck me at first as a smarter man than that.”
"Guys. I think I may have figured out how they escaped. They used the Underdark. The duergar must have known of a tunnel relatively close to the surface that they escaped down. The dust on these boots. It's a byproduct of some vines that only grow in the sunless Underdark. And the dust is recent. The necromancer might be near by." Rivvil says as he then begins looking in the immediate area for any purple colored footprints that look about dwarf sized.
"Every good commander..." Veldyn grins at that. "Your squad failed, and no matter how you make it right in your mind, you're abandoning what's left of them." Veldyn breaks contact with the dwarf at Rivvil's words and nods in his direction. "Can you track it?" He asks. Lenore heaves a heavy sigh, shakes her head, and casts one last look over Mercer's dead body. Then she walks back along the road to rejoin Natah where she waits with the others.
Rivvil begins immediately looking for tracks but he cannot have any. "Duergar. He probably knew of the dust those vines left and I think he wiped it all off of his boots before he left the cave. I'm sorry Veldyn I can't find him."
"No worries, Rivvil," Veldyn says, clasping him on the shoulder. "It's not our problem." He turns to Jackmon and asks, "Know of any tunnels?"
Jackmon froze. "In... my time... no," he said simply, very carefully observing a fallen log to the side of the road.
"Keep us going then, Rivvil," Veldyn gestures forward. Rivvil nods, believing Jackmon but recognizing why he's acting strange.
After the night of peace, Grishkar finds a secluded spot in the woods to perform a ritual over his claw army. Each give a small shudder as Grishkar's control is reinforced for another day. Before the party sets off from Mercer's corpse, Grishkar rifles through the body for a pair of gloves, then performs yet another profane ritual. The infamous now-corpse's hands tear free of their host and Grishkar fits them into a pair of fine gloves. "A pair of trophy hands such as you mustn't be sullied by everday wear and tear." He muses.
During the cold night, Veldyn takes a seat close to Lenore during her watch. "Natah, Rose, Rivvil, even Grishkar are easy to read. Sometimes I feel like I know what they're going to do before they do it themselves. This makes us a good team, I think. It allows us to predict what the other is going to do or say when there's no time for instruction," Veldyn speaks next to Lenore, not directly looking at her but just allowing his words and his cold breath to linger in the air. "You talk about leadership and questioning decisions. I understand your meaning, but I don't claim leadership over this group. Often times I'm unsure if we'll even start moving until someone says something, so I do. I'll take charge of situations if I feel I can make the outcome beneficial... not just for me, but for the group and the Zhentarim."
Lenore keeps her eyes on her watch. She takes her job seriously. But she grunts acknowledgment and then chuckles. "Well, sir, what ye just described, I believe that's what they call 'leadership.'" She shrugs with one shoulder. "So, fer that matter, is hauling yer ass out on a cold night to have this out. I appreciate that."
After a second, she adds, "I ain't aiming to undermine yer leadership as such, mind. Wasn't my point at all."
"You're an unpredictable complication," Veldyn continues, "A member of the group that's only travelled with us for a handful of days. The circumstances of your arrival, as unfortunate as it is, leaves you to be trusted as much as Jackmon is. A little more because of your allegiance to the Zhentarim, but the same, you know? I'm not dismissing you when you suggest something, I'm trying to ferry out a deeper meaning for the suggestions. Why do you want to go to Noltengard? Are you using the promise to the elves as a way to get us there?"
He finally gives Lenore a glance, "Did you even care that your team is missing or dead, now that you've set your path on leaving them? Ordered to flee, sure... as you say... but I wasn't there to witness that. Will Lenore leave us to die when she knows she can save us? That's what I want to know."
Lenore tips her head and squints, like she's trying to decide which of Veldyn's concerns to address first. "Let's start with Noltengarde first," she finally says. "I wasn't suggesting we go to Noltengarde. I was pointing out that we cut a deal, because in all the huff and hurry we left in, it never came up. And I was asking if we were going t' make good on that deal now or later. Were just a simple question." A wry smile curls the corner of her mouth. "It's been pointed out to me in the past that I have a somewhat... abrasive manner about me. I suppose I can allow how it might cause ye to misunderstand."
"On multiple occasions we've mentioned avoiding the town," Veldyn states. "A few savages in the forest, as useful as they were, wouldn't have us stray from that decision. I'm a noble of Neverwinter," Veldyn shrugs, "It's bred in me that there's always deeper meanings to one's words." After saying this, he waits for her to continue.
Lenore snorts softly. "Well, sir, I can save ye some trouble on that. Ain't much of a buffer between my mind and my mouth. If I'm saying it, it's pretty much the unaltered version of what I'm thinking." She hesitates, and her voice drops a tad lower. "As to whether I care that my team's missing or dead? Aye, o' course I care. But caring and being able to do something about it, those aren't always the same thing. Tell me, Veldyn--ye ever been on a battlefield?"
"In a war, no," Veldyn admits. "But I've seen what becomes of those that can't handle it," he glances over to Jackmon as he says this, but then continues, "I imagine the horrors could twist ones mind, as each day more and more deserters are found. My place isn't the battlefield, and now... neither is yours."
Lenore glances sidelong at him before continuing. "On a battlefield, it doesn't matter how much ye care. Most times, ye can't save every life. So ye have to set your eye to what it is ye're set to accomplish by the battle being won. So that it can be won. So that the dying can stop. And aye, this battlefield we're on now, it's different. But the point remains, so I'll tell it to ye as honest as I do everything I say. Zhentarim is family. I'll fight my best to protect the individual members of that family. If I can save ye, I will."
She finally turns and meets Veldyn's gaze. "But if saving ye will cause the Zhentarim a bigger loss than th' cost o' yer lives? I'm sorry, sir, and I'll be sorry if it ever comes to that. But I'll have to choose whatever's best for the Zhent as a whole."
Veldyn nods a confirmation to that. The Zhentarim has taken center stage to his end-goals as well. "It was Mercer's men that confronted you at Noltengarde, was it not? Mercer lies dead, his fort taken by the gods-know-what," Veldyn says. "So why do you still believe going back to Neverwinter is the best course of action when you know we can turn this failure into a success?"
Lenore goes back to her watching. "You and yers have made it abundantly clear ye have no interest in going to Noltengarde. If I recollect correctly, that's what sparked this little conversation to begin with. An' me, alone? I'm a pawn, just a simple playing piece on the bigger board. Bricio, he were leading us. They sent a team to handle Noltengarde, and I'm no team. Not much point to going back there alone. Better to turn myself and the unfavorable outcome I'm returning with over to better minds than mine."
"I think you underestimate your value," Veldyn says. "The majority of Fangs end up dead in their first assignment. It was a statistic quoted to me by more than one person before I left Neverwinter. That makes you the minority that can survive and thrive in the Zhentarim. The reason we don't go back is because we've done our jobs. Risk vs. Reward. But the appeal of going beyond our duties to help you is there... you just don't offer a reason for us to do so."
Lenore does the squinty-eyed thinking thing for a few seconds. "Bet yer real good at the politicking thing, aye? Ye talk in circles well enough for it. But if, as we've been saying, our first duty is to the Zhentarim always, then if ye believed going to Noltengarde were the best thing, ye shouldn't need me to offer ye a reason to go. Certainly ye have no trouble making a decision, most times." She blinks and turns to look at Veldyn again, squinting even harder. "Unless ye're looking less for a reason and more for an excuse?"
"What I'm looking for," Veldyn says. "Is loyalty. Your team will likely take credit for this success if we save the surviving members. You're in a position to report the truth and we're in a position to help you. I'd rather make my pilgrimage sooner rather than later, wouldn't you? Join our team officially upon arrival in Neverwinter, we all put in a good report, and both of our missions will be successful." Veldyn gives her a shrug as he adds, "That means that if some of your team is alive, you betray them for us."
Lenore leans back and sits up straight, regarding Veldyn much less squintily. She snorts. "My loyalty is to th' Zhentarim. And I'm not just in a position to report the truth, I do report the truth. If you and yer team were to believe an attempt at handling the situation at Noltengarde would be in the Zhentarim's best interests and be willing to accompany me there, then aye. That's what we should do. If ye're not--as I've been led to believe to this point--then it'd be a fool's errand and waste of Zhentarim resources for me to attempt it alone, so I'll accompany ye to Neverwinter." She leans slightly forward, more earnest than angry. "In either case, I'll make my report. I suppose that means it's up to you what I'll be reporting."
"So you'll report the truth, but we part ways?" Veldyn asks for clarification. "They'll likely assign your remaining team more fodder for the next mission, but if you wish to rise slowly through their ranks, that's your decision." Veldyn sighs and stands, saying, "That's not good enough."
Lenore stands as well and pulls herself up to her full four feet of height. "With respect, neither you nor me get to say what's good enough. I report the truth, they decide where I'm assigned next. Could be they'll decide we're well suited for working together. Could be they'll find I'm more use elsewhere." She hesitates. "This ain't personal, Veldyn. It's the way it is."
Veldyn nods. "To Neverwinter then," he says with finality. "Have you ever known Lady Erenelor to be affiliated with the Zhentarim?" He asks as a side-note. "Typically she's called in to deal with the guilds that have gained too much influence."
"And we opened a portal for her," Veldyn adds.
Lenore nods in return, then shakes her head at his question. "Don't know much more than th' name. Still learning about the city, quite truly." She hesitates and then adds, "Another thing, though. I been trying to sort through it and figure out why it should be, but Mercer's body? He'd been dead a while, I think. Couldn't tell much about those gashes, but judging by the body I'd guess it's been a few days."
"There's demons below the earth in this area," Veldyn says. "Rivvil and my squire encountered one earlier. But I do know that Grishkar can't animate hands that have died too soon, so the corpse was still within his grasp. The timeline could still add up... have a safe watch, Lenore."
"Hrmm." Lenore absently starts to salute and then catches herself. "Aye." She snorts in semi-amusement. "Pleasant dreams, sir."
With Grishkar's "trophy hand's collected, the ragtag group of Zhents, Hannockians, a smuggler, and a deserter marshaled their way through the remainder of the Neverwinter Wood. The forest thinned out as they approached the wide expanse which Noltengarde sat in the middle of, arriving at the edge by mid-afternoon. Hugging the forest line, Rivvil guided the group along the border, keeping out of sight of any potential deserter scouts wandering the area.
They avoided the roads for the next two days of travel, sticking to the easier parts of the more rugged terrain in order to avoid detection. Grishkar explained the meaning of the runes on the blade. Within Draconic runes written along the fuller of the blade naming it The Brotherhood's Foe, in suspected reference to the Arcane Brotherhood in Luskan, the blade likewise bore runes along the edges of the blade. They seemed to almost thirst after magic, offering protection against magic in an expended form. Rivvil noted that the blade's edge itself had been created by arcane means, giving it a much sharper edge that wouldn't dull after extended usage. The blade itself was lighter too, cutting through the air with ease, and forged with alchemical silver.
Fallil and Rivvil maintained a flirtatious relationship during their travels, chatting away the day or playing cute tricks on each other. During the night, they were often seen talking beside the campfire, lost to the external world around them. To Rivvil's despair, the relationship didn't seem to faze Veldyn in the slightest, who only smiled, knowing Fallil to be some plaything for the half-drow.
The morning before the Zhentarim reached Hannock was the first day of snow's fall. Auril's breath had swept through the region with a cold rain that turned to snow during the night. The temperature bit at the Zhents, who were forced to bundle up into warmer clothing. Eager to get to the Lodge and warm themselves by the greasy fires within, they trekked forward, reaching Hannock in the afternoon.
Much had changed in Hannock during the week that they were gone. More fortifications had been placed along the wall, building up the portions of the wall which had crumbled or were in serious disrepair. Many of the trees closest to Hannock had been cut down, their wood needed to fortify the small town against other threats. It was almost as if Hannock had been privvy of the information the Zhentarim band had learned during their travels.
The large, oak gates were quickly opened as the day shift of guardsmen spotted the Zhentarim's apparel. Denver and Fallil let out frigid breaths of relief as they saw their hometown open before them. Rushing in, they were received with shouts of joy and relief, which is likewise reciprocated to the Zhentarim as they answered. Beneath his helm's visor, Jackmon looked at the proceedings with curiosity. The Zhentarim were practically treated as heroes to this small town and its townsfolk.
Veldyn puts on a smile as the villagers surround and thank the party, but he keeps his eyes out for the acting mayor. Close to Jackmon, he whispers, "Stay close and keep the helm on. Once we obtain the signed trade agreement, I'll see you back to Neverwinter."(edited)
Rivvil enjoys the positive attention and then begins to wonder what benefits being a town hero will bring him.
Natah moves to Fallil. "Come, we need to find your father and sssister, let them know you're sssafe."
While the Zhentarim company enjoyed the positive attention, an older woman rushed to Denver with tears in her eyes. Spotting her amongst the crowd, Denver rushed towards her as well. "Tilda!" he quickly exclaimed as they embraced. "You're alive," is all she could say amidst her tears and sobbing. A small girl clung to his legs, causing him to pick her up and put her on his shoulders. Reunited with his family, he left the scene and made way for his home in the town.
Jackmon grunted in response to Veldyn, sticking close to the Zhentarim in hopes of not sticking out too much. Even with the positive celebration, several women and men wept tears of loss as they learned from Fallil that their loved ones had died in the skirmish against the Zhentarim. A man on crutches approached Fallil with a weak smile, a man Lenore recognized from the prisons in Noltengarde as one of the captured Hannock militia. Him and Fallil quietly discussed amongst themselves within the crowd.
"Natah", Fallil said, gesturing for her to them. "Meet Campton. He was with my militia when we were captured, though sent to Noltengarde instead. He escaped!"
"Hello," Natah said, giving a slight bow of her head. "Very nice to meet you."
He nodded sheepishly with a smile. "A pleasure to meet ye, m'lady."
"Fallil," Natah said again. "We really ssshould find your father."
Rivvil looks to Veldyn before saying “I’ll help Natah escort Fallil to his father and get the contracts signed. You should make sure your squire is okay and get that one in a room somewhere.” Rivvil says with a smile before he walks up next to Fallil, keeping the same flirtatious smile and lingering touches with Fallil that’s he’s had the whole trip back.
Veldyn nods, allowing Natah and Rivvil to take point on the mission’s completion. He guides Jackmon towards the inn, gets some rooms, and meets with Godiva and their driver.
As Natah, Rivvil, and Fallil move away from Campton, Lenore hesitates a moment and then sidles up and clears her throat. "Good t' see ye made it out," she says, in a pretty awkward attempt to make pleasantries. She watches his face as she waits to see if he recognizes her.
He looked her over slowly, examining her face. Baffled, he asked, "Who are ye?"
Lenore heaves a resigned sigh. "I were at Noltengarde, too. One of the other prisoners." The word obviously pains her to speak it. After a second she continues, "Was with a halfling fellow, name of Bricio. Don't suppose ye have any knowledge of his current whereabouts?"
"'Alfling fella? Ye, I remember the bastard. Was a prisoner one day, then there was some commotion, somethin' about prisoners escaping, and then a few days la'er 'e was walkin' around with the bastard lion's crest like the rest o' them." He looked at you for a few moments before the candle lit in his mind. "Oi! Ye were one of the escapees, weren't ye?"
Several odd expressions flicker across Lenore's face over the course of a single heartbeat. "Huh," is her only remark. Then, "Aye, was." She makes a few more moments of awkward conversation with Campton, then extricates herself and goes to find a quiet tavern corner.
Lenore enters the one tavern in the small town and, while Veldyn is occupied with getting rooms and reuniting with his companions, takes a hefty mug to a back table and sits with her back to the room, where she will likely stay one way or another for at least the next hour.
Seeing Lenore enter and go straight to a table, waving for ale, Veldyn tells the owner to add her orders to his tab. He then proceeds to read the message that flew in for him.
Once Fallil finished conversing with Campton, he turned to Natah and Rivvil. "Yes, let's find my dad and sister." Following behind him, they only made it a few paces up the hill before Sir Toldine and Karine rounded the corner. "Fallil!" Karine cried out in her chipper tone, rushing through the fallen snow and embracing her brother. "I'm so glad you're alive."
Sir Toldine nodded his head, and Natah noticed just how weary the man appeared. Someone unforeseen stress or illness had slowly taken its toll on the aged man. Still, he smiled as he saw his son and daughter embrace. "I'm glad you're safe, Fallil." Looking to Natah and Rivvil, he added, "And thank you to your group." He looked up to the sky as light snow began to fall from the sky, going into a quick coughing fit. Once recovered, he said, "Let's go inside and discuss by a fire."
"Thisss sssoundsss like a wonderful idea," Natah agreed, near desperate to get warm again. "Pleassse, after you."
Karine smiled at Natah as she assisted her father and the rest of the group to their home. Nestled near the town's small center, they walked through the old, wooden door, greeted to a warm fire and the smell of fresh bread permeating the air. They sat around a small table situated near the fire. "I'll go get us some supper," Karine offered as she moved to the kitchen.
Natah sat politely, but internally was worried about the prospect of having to eat. She looked Sir Toldine over, waiting for him to speak first.
Rivvil sits down as well, close by Fallil. "Thank you for the food. Unfortunately, our ambassador Natah here has some dietary restraints so please do excuse her if she doesn't eat." he says aloud knowing that Natah normally eats with her mask on and that might upset the old man that already doesn't really like us.
"Oh!" Karine exclaimed with sorrow. "I hope you don't have the sugar death. Took my sweet auntie two years ago."
She walked back into the main room with a tray of warm bread and some crushed berry jam. "The jam might be a little tart since we ran out of sugar weeks ago, but I think it has a more *earthy* taste," she explained as she sat down at the table.
Fallil's eyes became a little misty at the sight as he smiled and let out a sigh. "I'm glad to be home."
"As are we," Sir Toldine responded, grabbing Fallil's hand with his own. Looking to Natah and Rivvil, he stated, "You've held up your end of the bargain, and it is only fair that I hold up mine. We will *accept* the Zhentarim's shipments of supplies and food in exchange for taxation in the years to come."
Natah smiled behind her mask, her eyes softening. "Thisss isss wonderful newsss."
Natah pulled a pack of papers from her bag. "Ssshall we make thisss official?"
"You're making the right choice. It'll help see your people through this food shortage. I know the Zhents may not have been the best to you in the past but, we're trying to help now." Rivvil says to the old man.
As Rivvil spoke with Sir Toldine, his eyesight began to take on a hazy appearance around his peripheral vision as reds and purples in his vision began to brighten and bolden.
Rivvil, with his eye sight changing, looks around, but attempting to do it subtly as to not alert the others, to see if he can identify the cause of this.
As he looked around, the faint aromas of brimstone and lilac wafted through his noise, and an all-too-familiar seductive voice filled his mind. "Seduce the son."
Rivvil just smiles. "Will do." he replies within his mind.
In response, he felt a caressing touch in his nether regions as the sight and smells continued to linger in his senses.
He nodded in response, taking the papers from Natah and looking them over while the five of them ate. Once finished, he nodded again silently, signing the documents with a quill and black ink. Grabbing one of the lit candles, he drizzled the wax on the parchment by his name and then stamped it with the insignia of Hannock. Once dried, he handed it back to Natah. "There you are. I expect the first shipment within the week," he stated with a hint of defeat in his voice.
Rivvil nods his heads, then turns to Fallil, grabbing him by the hand, "Let us celebrate this agreement and let me treat you. Come, drinks on me at the tavern." Rivvil says to Fallil with the same "love-sick" smile he's kept up around him the entire trip.
Natah takes the papers, folding them carefully, and placing them neatly inside her pack once again. "Yesss, you will have a caravan sssoon." She glanced at Rivvil quickly, wishing he would remain more calm than he was at the moment. "Pleassse, let me know if there isss anything elssse you require," she directed at Sir Toldine.
Karine looked to her dad, who simply nodded. With a wide smile, she beamed. "I'll bring a friend too!" Fallil returned the "love-sick" smile, saying, "Sounds good to me, Rivvil."
"If there is more we need, I'll let the first caravan know." he responded in kind.
As they left, Fallil and Rivvil giving each other eyes, and Karine bouncing off to find her friend, Natah lagged behind, releasing a sad sigh.
Rivvil hearing the sigh quickly glances in Natah’s direction to figure out what’s wrong with her. (Insight: 8) *She must be sad that I’m getting some tonight. I’ll help her. Hmmm....she has scales like a snake so I guess her people mate with snakes. I’ll get her one. She’ll be so happy to have something like that for late at night*
As they’re walking Rivvil will turn and whisper into Fallil’s ear “Natah’s looking a little down. Do you know where I can find a snake? They’re here favorite animal and it’ll really cheer her up.”
He chuckled. "You know what? I do know of one. One of the widow's sons has a snake he found in the summer, and I think he still keeps it in his room."
Rivvil smiles and whispers back to him “Perfect. If you can get it for me just for the night I would really appreciate it. And then, I’ll take care of your snake.”
He looked at Rivvil curiously before the meaning dawned on him. With a blush, he laughed out of nervousness or excitement. "Yeah! I'll grab his snake and then you can grab mine," he whispered back.
"I need to get something," he said more loudly. "I'll meet you two at the Lodge." With that said, he departed from Rivvil and Natah and headed south.
Rivvil and Natah strolled into the Lodge, greeted by the warmth of several greasy fires and a scattered numbers of patrons who raised their cups to the duo as they walked in. Lenore sat against the far wall, leaning into her chair as she contemplated something deep. Veldyn clasped a small note in his hand as he read it over with a furrowed brow. Natah immediately speaks to the bartender, then retreats to her room. Rivvil follows and notes what room is Natah’s before getting his room key from Veldyn and asking the bartender for a bottle of the good stuff from the last time he was here. Once settled in a bit, Fallil walked into the Lodge with a basket in his hand. Quickly moving over to Rivvil, he smiled as he pushed the basket into his lap. "Here's what you requested. One of two you'll get tonight," he said with a wink.
The bartender chuckled, "It's good stuff ain't it? For the full bottle? There's about 10 gold pieces left in there."
“I’ll take the whole bottle.” Rivvil says sliding the barkeep a platinum piece. Bottle and key in hand he looks over to Fallil, “Take this up to the room and get ready. You’re getting the full hero treatment tonight.” He says as he hands Fallil the bottle and key and takes the basket. Fallil smiled and went up the wrong flight of stairs to the opposite side of rooms. Rivvil let’s out a chuckle and follows behind him. Once finding him he leans over and whispers in his ear “Wrong flight of stairs. Try again big boy.” Karine and Merissa walked into the Lodge moments later, looking around at the slowly gathering crowd. Once they spotted Veldyn, they quickly made their way over to him and sat down at his table.
"Doh!" he exclaimed sheepishly. Seeing his sister and Merissa, he smiled faintly before quickly moving across the common area to the opposite flight of stairs and begun trying to the locks with the key to find Rivvil's room. Rivvil chuckles and then makes his way to Natah’s room and knocks on the door.
"Who isss it?" Natah's voice calls out.
“It’s Rivvil. Open up I have a surprise for you.” He says with a smile on his face.
Natah sighed again, she looked at her mask and contacts, sitting on the table next to the bed. Tired, she didn't want to take the time to cover up again. Walking to the door, she unlocked it, and stood behind. "Come in," she said. "Ssshut the door behind you."
Rivvil comes in with a basket in hand and a smile on his face. “I got a surprise for you. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
Making sure the door is closed, Natah moves away from the door. She watches Rivvil and eyes the basket. Her golden eyes move from the basket to his face. "What isss it?"
Rivvil slowly open the baskets and says “Come out little guy. She won’t hurt you.”
Natah peered into the basket. "What'sss thisss?"
“It’s a partner for you for the night. I saw the way you were looking at me and Fallil and I realized you were lonely. And you look like a snake so your people must have a thing for snakes so I got you a snake for the night.” Rivvil says.
"What?" Natah looked into the basket again, and shock set in. "What?" she asked again, looking at Rivvil. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything else, then reality set in. "Isss... isss thisss a sssick joke?" Her eyes began to fill with tears. "Isss thisss what you think of me?"
Rivvil looks confused. “What do you mean a joke? Is...is this not what your people do?”
"No!" Natah shouted. "Why... do you think of me asss an animal?"
“No. I...I just thought this would be a nice gesture. Is...is this wrong?” Rivvil asks.
"Would you... mate with Chewy?" Natah hissed.
Rivvil thinks about it and then shrugs. “Maybe. If my Lord commanded it then yes.”
Tears streaming down her face, Natah sat on the bed. "I never ssshould have told the truth about who... what I am. I don't mate with animalsss." The adder slowly slithered out of the basket, flicking its tongue in the air, tasting the scents.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. What would you like next time?” Rivvil asks.
"I don't want anything," Natah said, then slumped a little. "Okay, that'sss not entirely true. There isss... sssomeone. But he... barely ever looked at me."
“Who?” Rivvil asks.
"Hisss... hisss name is Hamak," Natah said, a dreamy look crossing her face. "But he'sss back in Neverwinter."
“I’ll make up for this. I’ll get Hamak to go out with you, okay?” Rivvil responds.
"No!" Natah yelled again, jumping up to grasp Rivvil by the arms, careful to avoid crushing the little snake. "You must never tell anyone!"
“Okay. Okay. I won’t. Geez. I was trying to make up for this. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Are we okay now?” Rivvil asks.
"I appreciate the gesssture," Natah said, releasing him. She held a hand out for the little snake. "Hamak can never know how I feel. I would be put to death if it wasss dissscovered." She rubbed the snake on the top of the head, still looking sad. "Yesss... we're okay now. You can go."
“Okay. Have fun.” Rivvil says leaving Natah alone and then heading to his own room.
Natah frowned sadly at the door after Rivvil quickly fled her room. Picking up the adder, she gave it a soft rub on the top of the head. "Hello there."
Lenore lets everything go on around her without much notice as she concentrates on what she's doing. She has her back to the room, but at one point there's a short sword lying on the table and then there's not. After spending an hour alternately muttering in dwarven and taking slugs of ales, eventually she finishes up and carefully places the new item she's wrought into her pack. Then she scoots her chair around a nudge so she can take in what's going on in the rest of the room while she finishes her current drink.
As the Zhentarim began to gather together once again, the Lodge quickly filled with patrons as word spread that the Zhentarim were offering drinks on the house once more. Discouraged to discuss their findings in such a crowd, they chose to mingle with the crowd as loud music was played by the corner bard. Veldyn retreated to his room for the night with Karine and Merissa in tow, wearing a very large smile as his mind played out the events that would unfold with the two damsels. One by one, the rest of the Zhentarim returned to their rooms in the Lodge, eventually able to fall asleep once the barkeep kicked out those too drunk to leave on their own. While the night was cold, the heat from those who had company helped stave off the worst of it as those without company were forced to bundle up in their blankets for a more proper warmth. Soon the morning's light shone through the building's wooden walls, indicated that it was time to arise and set out for Neverwinter. Godiva sat downstairs, her feet bouncing up and down as she held a large mug of some drink, as the first of the group arose and moved down the creaking wooden stairs towards the common room. Rivvil comes down late in the morning after some last minute special goodbye with Fallil. He makes sure to give Fallil his address within Neverwinter in case he's ever in the city. Natah sat silently at a table by herself, deep in thought.
Godiva waved at Rivvil and giggled as he said goodbye to Fallil, taking a large drink of some black concoction within her mug. "Hey! Hey! Look what I have!" She tipped her mug slightly, revealing a steaming mug of black coffee.
"That looks good, where did you get that from?" Rivvil asks her.
She simply pointed to the bar where six more drinks were arrayed. A note was left there too, reading: "Zhentarim, Please visit the chapel before you go for a proper farewell. - Sir Toldine"
Chewie sits by the fireplace, looking forlorn. Rivvil takes a mug and at seeing the sad puppy whistles to get its attention and attempts to get Chewie to come sit with him. Chewie pads over and licks Rivvil’s hand. He'll pet the puppy and say to it "Where's Rosie? I thought you'd be with her?" Chewie whines. "Hmmm.....I hope she's okay. I didn't really see her last night but my hands were kind of full." Rivvil says to the puppy. Chewie growls. "I wish I knew what you meant by that." Rivvil chuckles at the puppy.
Veldyn comes down looking refreshed and ready to set out. Upon seeing Godiva and the note, he takes a mug of coffee for himself and sits down next to his squire. After a few moments of hushed discussion, Veldyn slides a long sword her way. Godiva beamed as her eyes quickly flickered back and forth between Veldyn and the longsword. Once slid her way, she opened the sheath and inspected the edge of the blade for imperfections. Satisfied, she nodded to Veldyn in appreciation before setting her new longsword beside her.
Lenore stumps down the stairs and gets around to helping herself to a mug, as well. Then she parks herself and looks the room over, taking note of who is and who isn't there, as she drinks her coffee. Apparently, dwarven custom calls for much loud blowing on hot beverages to cool them before them slurping loud sips. Chewie nips Rivvil on the arm. Natah, still sitting alone, is hunched over the table, distracted by something she's covering with her hands. She seems to not notice anyone else in the room.
Rivvil picks the puppy up and puts him in his lap. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” He tells the dog while scratching it behind the ears. Chewie struggles to get out of Rivvil's lap and back to the floor. Rivvil puts him down on the floor then sighs. “Did any of you happen to see Rosie last night?” Chewie runs to the door and barks.
"Ain't seen Rose nor Sunshine since yesterday." Lenore pauses for a slurp of coffee. "Hope his hands didn't run off with 'em."
“Guys. I think something might have happened to Rosie. I’m going with the dog to find her.” Rivvil says standing up and opening the door for Chewie to lead the way in the search of the little gnome. Natah is distracted enough she won't notice anyone talking. Chewie barks loudly. “Find her boy. Find her before she gets stuck in a well.” Rivvil tells the puppy once they are outside. Chewie growls at the well comment. Some undermined amount of time later Rivvil busts back into the tavern Chewie on his heels. He'll for Natah and upon finding her says "Come with me. Rosie got herself trapped and we need you to get her out."
“She didn’t get trapped in a well, did she!?” Godiva goes pale as she thinks about the last creature that crawled out of a well.
Natah looked at him and silently nodded. She picked up the little snake and wrapped it around her neck, tucking it under her mask. She followed, not saying anything.
"Not a well, but a cellar maybe. Anyway, lets go." Rivvil says as he begins to lead Natah and whoever else wants to come to rescue Rosie.
Grishkar strolls down to where the others are gathered, a feigned surprise overtaking him, "Oh. Off so soon?" Natah says nothing, keeping her head down, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Veldyn nods to Godiva and she rushes out to find Rose with the others. Veldyn pulls a few small bits of parchment and begins writing a couple more messages for Neverwinter. Rushing off to find their lost friend, Chewie and Rivvil guide the group to the backside of Sir Toldine's house. Once there, they see two guards conversing with Sir Toldine himself about fifteen feet from a trapdoor built next to the side of the house.
Worried, Natah stepped forward. "Sssir Toldine, what'sss happened?" Rivvil does a face palm as Natah does this.
He whipped around, looking at the group suspiciously. "Someone broke into my cellar." Seeing Rivvil's facepalm, he added, "What do you know about it? And why are you all here and not at the chapel?"
"We were heading there when we sssaw you," Natah replied.
"Saw me?" he inquired. "I've been inside my house all morning."
"Jussst now."
"I don't know anything. I told her not to bother you. Come, lets go to the temple Sir Toldin. Tell me about this problem. Natah, I think Chewie has to go pee. Take him some place appropriate to pee." Rivvil says attempting to distract Toldin.
He looked at the Zhents and then back to the guards, who stood idle and silent behind him. He glanced down at Rivvil's shoes, then back to some of the tracks near the trapdoor. "Take off your shoes," he ordered.
"Why? I'd rather not get my socks wet. Have you ever had wet socks, its the worst." Rivvil says.
"You'll take your shoes off or I'll order my guards to arrest you," he stated. Turning to the guards, he said, "I think this one broke into my cellar."
"I haven't broken into anything. I was with your son all night and morning until now. If you don't believe me ask him yourself." Rivvil tells the old man.
He glanced around. "Any where is my son?" he asked. "I haven't seen him since last night." The guards step forward a few feet, their hands on their blade's handles, and he recognized them as the ones he tried to seduce the first night. "Don't make this harder on us, Rivvil," one of them responded.
"Sssir Toldin," Natah said, interjecting herself. "Pleassse allow me to handle thisss. We've all been together at the tavern, celebrating. Your ssson will be along sssoon. He had a bit too much to drink lassst night." She pointed toward the building. "Allow my assssociates and myssself to handle thisss intruder for you. We've made promisssesss to you, and I'm eager to prove how ssseriousss we are about protecting this town, and yourssself."
The guards glanced back to Toldine, awaiting his instruction. He replied, "I already checked the cellar and no one was down there. Tell your Zhentarim comrade to give me his boots and then we'll proceed from there." Natah looks at Rivvil.
"Really. Can I at least take them off in your house so I don't get me feet wet?" Rivvil asks.
"No. You'll do it here, and you'll do it now, or my guards will do it for you and then arrest you." he responded, nodding his head to the guards who continued to move forward.
Natah held up her hands between them. "Gentlemen, pleassse. What isss it you wisssh to know about Rivvil'sss bootsss?"
"You're stalling," he declared. "Arrest that man," he ordered the guards, pointing at Rivvil. The two guards, almost desparingly, grabbed Rivvil by the wrists. While one put him into shackles, the other began unstrapping one of the boots from Rivvil's foot.
"Gentlemen," Natah said, her voice growing angry. "You will ssstop." She reached into her pack and pulled out the paperwork. Holding it before her chest, she said, "You know what thessse are, Sssir Toldin. I sssuggessst you think hard on your next move."
Toldine looked angrily at Natah as she held the papers out. Her tone carried authority, even causing the guards to pause as Rivvil was halfway shackled. The one upstrapping his boots looked at the papers, and then to Toldine. "What are those?" he asked openly.
"You can explain to your men, Sssir Toldin," Natah hissed. "Explain how you sssigned thessse papersss and what they mean."
They glanced to Toldine who was practically fuming. He spat on the ground and turned to walk away. "Release the whore," is all he ordered as he started to cough from the cold air.
"I sssuggessst you go inssside, Sssir Toldin." Natah continued. "You don't sssound well, and we wouldn't want you to catch your death of cold."
His breath only rose in silence as he trekked through the snow, turning the bend of the house and disappearing. The guards looked at each other confused, but followed orders, releasing Rivvil.
Natah glared daggers at the guards. "Move on," she commanded. They nodded, knowing they were outmatched, and headed towards the town's square.
Rivvil, opens his mouth to say something but then decides against it. He'll look to the guards "I'm sorry this had to happen. I would move on and stay away from me for now. He's angry I beded his son last night."
"You need to learn to ssshut up," Natah said angrily to Rivvil. "Let'sss get Rosie out of there."
"I'm not shamed of what I do. Also, if you hadn't talked to him and paid attention to what I said you would know who is down there and would have just let me take him to the temple while you let Chewie pee." Rivvil counters back.
"When I speak, you will never contradict what I say, again, do you understand me?" Natah turned her glare toward Rivvil. "Now shut the **** up, and let's get the stupid little gnome."
Rivvil glares back. Not responding just thinking of a certain man back in Neverwinter. As soon as the guards leave, Chewie immediately moves for the lock and starts pawing at it. Natah pulls at the door, finding it locked. She pulled out her thieves tools and spent a few moments fiddling with the lock, but found she couldn't open it. Frustrated, she growled, "Any other brilliant ideasss?"
“Let me try.” Rivvil says holding his hands out for her lockpicks. She hands them over, still glaring. “I’d like to point out that the stupid little gnome had no problems picking that lock,” Rosie’s muffled voice came from below.
"Then you won't mind if we leave you here to rot," Natah hissed back. "What the **** were you thinking?"
Rivvils takes Natah’s lock picks and attempts to pick the lock.
Rivvil's dextrous hands worked nimbly and quickly, picking the lock in just a matter of seconds. Natah's previous effort *obviously* made it easier for him. Opening the door, he revealed a lone, little gnome named Rose, sitting at the top of the wooden stairs. (22 on lockpicking)
"What were you thinking," Natah asked again, immediately upon seeing Rose.
“It’s all in the wrist.” Rivvil says with a wink as he hands Natah her lockpicks back.
Natah snatched them back with an angry hiss.
Chewie practically barreled into Rose before she could respond, licking her face viciously before continuing down the stairs into the cellar.
“What a happy reunion. Let’s go before Toldin finds us. He already wants to lock me up for showing his son a good night.” Rivvil says ready to go now that the gnome is free.
"No," Natah said, blocking the exit. "You're going to explain yourself, *right now*."
“I was thinking I wasn’t going to get locked in a cellar.” Rose answers
"Why did you come in here?" Natah pressed.
“Chewie smelled gold.” Rose responded
Natah narrowed her eyes. "You didn't come in here for gold. What did you find?"
“No, that is one hundred percent what I came in here for,” Rose pulled a small handful of gold out of her bag. “Chewie can track gold and food. We’re still working on people.”
"I told you to shut up," Natah said, pointing a finger at Rivvil. Turning back to Rose, she continued. "I talked you out of this cellar, you could be honessst with me."
Chewie returned from the darkness of the cellar with a gold piece in its mouth. He dropped it on the base of the stairs before disappearing again.
"Isss there more?" Natah hissed.
“There’s almost a thousand down here, but I only nabbed 50,” Rose replied patiently. “Natah, I have never lied to you, and I’m not starting now.”
"Ssso," Natah said, still quite angry. "Our dear friend Sssir Toldine is sssitting on money that could help hisss people." Natah descended the stairs, looking for this stash of gold.
“And a shitty romance novel.” Rose added
Chewie's tail wagged excitedly as he stood on his hind legs, sniffing into a wooden barrel.
Natah pauses, holding a hand out. "Book pleassse."
Rivvils eyes light up at the mention of a shitty romance novel. "How shitty is the novel? How smutty?" he asks Rosie.
“It’s not a novel yet, it’s in progress,” Rose pointed at the loose pages of parchment on the desk. “It’s not code or anything, I checked.”
Natah gathered up the papers and stashed them in her pack.
"Oh. I don't like unfinished works. Anyways, can we leave? Or you know, keep standing at a crime scene in broad daylight." Rivvil says.
“I was going to try and leave it not looking as if the place had been looted,” Rose grumbled.
"It doesn't matter now," Natah said coolly.
“Riv, Chewie is super pissed at you,” Rose said. “You’ve got to learn how to listen better.”
"I don't speak dog, sorry." Rivvil says with a smile.
"Take the gold," Natah said, her voice monotone. "We own thisss town now. If he won't help hisss people, sssomeone elssse can do it."
"The town will be fine. The old man will die soon and then Fallil will take over. He'll gladly do what I ask and keep the town alive." Rivvil says.
"Then maybe," Natah said, leveling a cold gaze at Rivvil. "We ssshould ssspeed up the processs."
“Look, are we going to take over the town, or are we going to just piss off another lord?” Rosie asked. “I’m fine either way, I just need to know which plan I’m using. I’m happy to collect another wanted poster, but if we’re going the other way we’re going to need to be a tad smarter”
"I mean. The town already loves us. Lets just let nature runs its course. Unless, your new snake friend has given you some slow-acting venom you can use." Rivvil says.
"Do whatever you wisssh," Natah said, heading back up the stairs. "Take the barrel, it'sss oursss now." Exiting the cellar, she disappeared.
“A town liking us isn’t enough,” Rose growled. “Natah, slow the **** down. What do you know hat you’re not telling me? This street goes both ways you know.”
"She's gone. Let's just go. We were suppose to meet the old man in the temple but who knows if thats still happening. Lets go get the others and leave before we get wrapped up in something else." Rivvil says to Rosie.
While Lenore is helping to prepare their departure, she takes a moment to approach Grishkar. From her pack she produces a pair of half-gauntlets, which are shorter than average gauntlets since they have no section to protect a forearm. Instead, the open end stops closer to the wrist area and features a pair of clasps to hold them shut once the hands they're protecting are inside. "These are fer Mercer," she says as she presents the half-gauntlets to Grishkar. "Figure he deserves something special, aye?"
With an unusually *natural* smile, Grishkar accepts the guantlets as the black-gloved hands emerge, "Stop that now or I may genuinely cry."
Lenore opens her mouth, gets a look at Grishkar's unusually *natural* smile and hesitates, then finally adds, "Uh huh. I should add that if ye ever try t' use those hands against *me,* those gauntlets'll self-destruct."
His face goes blank before Grishkar ponders a moment, "I could kill two birds with one stone if you were in combat..."
Lenore chuckles quietly. "Ah, ye don't disappoint, Sunshine. Self-destruct as in 'poof,' implosion that'll take out the gauntlets and th' hands. And leave ye with a truly pissed-off dwarf." Lenore gives Grishkar a hearty and not entirely un-friendly slap on the shoulder. "I think we'd be better off watchin' each other's backs instead of figuring out how t' off each other." Lenore moves off to continue preparing the cart to depart, leaving Grishkar with his gift.
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Urmmormdh spat on the ground in retaliation against the group's taunts and jeers. "I serve the new god of death. I fear nothing." Yet, even as he spoke those words, he cocked his head to the side, as if listening. "As you wish, master," was his reply to the stale air as he muttered, "Krosh nag'tildom ehgroff." When the dwarvish statement finishes, his form disappeared into thin air. (For those that speak Dwarvish, he said, "Two-hundred-and-eighty-one feet northeast.")
While confused, Urmmormdh's disappearance did not mark an end. The zombies and skeletons still stood, poised to fight the Zhents and Friends. Putting off thoughts of his cowardice, the group focused their fighting on the undead, and after a handful of seconds, they were quickly dispatched, leaving the room filled with stale air, labored breathing, blood, and sweat. And undeath. Always the smell of undeath.
After they finish up with the last of the undead, Lenore cleans the gore from her warhammer and shield, glancing around with a scowl. "'Two-hundred-and-eighty-one feet northeast.' That's what the bastard said. Means we got no time for resting, I imagine. Though there's a couple of us could sorely use it."
"How far away was the room with the teleportation circle?" Grishkar rushes to the zombies first, removing their hands with his blade while his hand-pets pull arms of the other fallen into good positions for butchering. While the hands are hands, Grishkar quickly realizes that their rot marks them as far beyond the likes of his animate claws spell. "What a waste...Maybe his tomes will have some insight when we get clear of this shithole."
"Not so far as that," Lenore replies to Grishkar's question about the teleportation circle. She turns to face roughly northeast and ponders for a moment. "Were it some spell to teleport him, though, and that were his directions to it? Might be that tells us where Mercer is holed up."
"We don't have much time to waste. He's gettin away." Rivvil says pulling the arrow out of his shoulder and then putting his hand there to apply pressure and slow down the bleeding.
"Get a grip," Veldyn says to Rivval, pouring some healing energy into him (6 points). "Lets keep moving." With that, Veldyn walks past the others and towards the North. Without a word, Natah follows, bow in hand. Lenore grunts agreement and follows along, pausing long enough to put a hand on each Rivvil (4 points) and Grishkar (11 points), providing a flare of healing light. As she passes Rose, she gives the gnome a nod of thanks. With everyone else taken care of, she finally expends another spell to heal herself (4).
“Thanks Lenore and Veldyn. That necromancer put a little more pump in those skeletons. Let’s go get him. Then we’ll come back to this door. I think this is where he probably keeps his goodies.” Rivvil says following the group north. Grishkar gathers his claws once more into the folds of his robes and follows behind the rest.
Moving through the room of deceased hands, the group approached the northern door and opened it. The shrieking began once again, and they quickly cut down the mushroom, finding themselves in a small room with a spiral staircase on the far side of the wall that led upwards. Veldyn leads the group up the stairs, shield raised as they make their way upwards. Rivvil follows close behind Veldyn. Lenore hangs back to let everyone else go ahead of her and then brings up the rear, counting on Veldyn to lead them while she keeps an eye out behind them. She grits her teeth as she climbs, still hurting but not as badly as she could be, thanks to her sturdy dwarven constitution.
The spiraling stone staircase wound up and up and up, and the group met no resistance thankfully. As they approached the top of the stairs, they could hear voices shouting within the keep. As they reared the top and poked their heads from the room the staircase deposits into, they saw their plan was unfolding beautifully. Tents, crates, and strewn straw was all set ablaze in fire as the elves' flaming arrows continued to rain down from the sky as the deserter's desperately rushed in with blankets, trying to swat out the blazes. It was evident they had no water to assist in their efforts. Several corpses lay prostrate on the ground with a blackened arrow protruding from their chest, head, or neck. Far above along the battlements, archers hid in their murder holes, trying in vain to put an end to the flaming siege.
Even from the back, Grishkar seems to start connecting pieces together until he grows wild-eyed, "Someone get me cover and corpses...drag them back here if you need to. It would be easy to ambush someone looking to chase us back into this hole. 2-for-1 then..." A moment of clarity seems to reach the necromancer...but just a moment, "6...yes. Yes I can do 6. I need 6 bodies."
Veldyn continues his rush forward, and once he gets clear view of the inside of the fort, he looks out at the destruction and mayhem for the dwarf and/or Mercer. Cut the head off the snake, so they say, he thinks as he scans the battlefield.
“Let’s get rid of those in the arrow slits while they’re distracted. Then we can open the main gates for the elves to come inside and deal with all the extras while we focus on finding Mercer and the Duergar.” Rivvil suggests to the group.
"Stay low and stick close to the walls," Veldyn offers. "Lets make our way around to the South and take them out. Lenore, Grishkar, as we near the gates try to get them open. Natah... find a high place, stay hidden, and rain death from above. Rose... try not to die."
“You’re really making me feel like a valued member of the team here,” Rose rolled her eyes.
Natah nodded. She was clearly distressed by the situation and struggling to maintain composure. Scanning around, she began to look for a vantage point.
Rounding the corner, the group is careful to avoid unwanted eyes seeing them as they briskly cling to the shadows and darker recesses of the keep. The heavy oak doors to inside the keep are blockaded with multiple pieces of furniture and logs of wood, making the process of unbarring them tedious. Veldyn reaches into his pouch, pulls a vial of oil out, and slams it against the door and blockade. He then tosses his torch on the pile. "First door opened..." Pulling his sword, he continues south cautiously.
“Let’s hope that fire doesn’t prevent our exit or burn down the forest.” Rivvil quietly comments but continues to follow Veldyn.
"The tunnels are our exit, and if the elves were concerned about burning down the forest they wouldn't have been using fire in the first place. Lets go," Veldyn responds. "If I remember correctly, there's another gate to the South."
“Yeah. But elves are hypocrites.” Rivvil comments back.
"Jussst get me up on the wall," Natah said quickly, a panicked look in her eyes.
Veldyn just glances at Rivvil's slightly pointed ears in response. "We'll clear the battlements for you, Natah," he responds to the rogue.
Grishkar slinks behind the rest, staff and short sword ready for any that might be stupid enough to attack. He can't help but to feel aggrivated that so many fresh materials are left to waste in the courtyard. Lenore nods in response to Veldyn's orders and continues to bring up the rear of the group and scan for trouble coming from behind. She looks almost... happy, as if she's now perfectly in her element.
The Zhents continue on their path as the fire slowly rages across the convenient bonfire placed against the door. Just as they enter the rubble-filled ingroove, shouts ring as panicked hands point to the-now-burning gate doors. Dipping into another ingroove, they find a set of ladders leading to a closed trapdoor about twenty feet above.
Veldyn leads the charge upwards, stowing his sword and shield and moving quickly up the ladder at first before slowing just as he reaches the trap door. Then, in one quick movement he lifts it open and rushes the rest of the way up and onto the battlement. Natah clipped her crossbow to her belt and followed up the ladder, pulling the crossbow free, ready to shoot if needed. As Veldyn rushes up the rest of the latter to get onto the battlements, two deserters turn around from their murderholes with drawn heavy crossbows.
Veldyn launches himself out of the hatch and straight towards one of the deserters. Pulling his longsword he wraps an arm around the man's neck and squeezes, sword poised to kill him. Keeping the deserter between him and the other one, he growls, "Drop your crossbows and you'll live this day!"
Natah popped up and saw what Veldyn intended. She pointed her crossbow in the face of the second deserter. "You heard him," she said, nodding at Veldyn. "Or would you rather try to sssee how long you can live with a bolt lodged in your brain?" (17 to intimidate)
Panic played across their faces as Veldyn lurched forward, grappling one while Natah's crossbow lay leveled at the second deserter's skull. Without word, they quickly dropped their heavy crossbows and remained silent.
As the others come up, Veldyn says, "Bind them." His grip tightens on the deserter until he's safely bound. After they're bound, Veldyn assures them, "You've made the right decision..." Before knocking them both out with the hilt of his longsword. He then checks them with a quick pat-down before nodding towards the Southern door. "Lets see what other surprises await us."
Grishkar makes his way into the murderhole, ignoring the bound desserters. He peers out the window to where the elves had been attacking from. With a series of gestures, he forms a message in Elvish, letter-by-letter across the outer wall of the keep: "Infiltrated. Stand by to Enter"
Lenore is the last one up the ladder. She glances out the opening to see what Grishkar's up to this time. After a second, she grunts. "Fancy," she says, as she follows Veldyn toward the south door.
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"Even the wisest sage knows that the most minor cantrip can become a great asset." Grishkar approaches the two unconcious desserters and draws his dagger, "And they also recognize that the smallest creature can topple giants," he smiles as his incantation begins and his four Crawling Claws skitter down from his robe and welcome their new brethren.
Natah opened the southern door and peered out. "There'sss another room like thisss one," she called over her shoulder to Veldyn. "Perhapsss we ssshould clear that one asss well? If I'm ssstaying up here, I don't want to be sssurprisssed."
"Wonderful," Grishkar beamed, his hands covered in fresh blood and black ichor, "More pets."
Veldyn nods, then sighs at Grishkar as he performs his ritual. "Cover the trapdoor with their bodies, at least," he says to the necromancer. He then stands and heads out onto the palisade to peer down below at the situation in the fort. Veldyn sees more troops attempting to put out fires, but the darkness and the smoke obscures anything else down below. With shield and longsword prepared, he makes his way to the next door.
Rivvil follows, a little upset they didn’t get to kill but at least the plan is going smoothly for now. Or at least he hopes it is having no idea where Rose disappeared to.
"Mmm hmm," Lenore replies to Grishkar's mini-monologue, in a semi-amused smile-and-nod tone reserved by the highly practical for their most eccentric acquaintances. As the others step out onto the palisade, she hangs back in the open door to keep an eye on Grishkar's back as he finishes his task.
Moving into the second murderhole room and ready for combat, the Zhents find the room empty, save for a corpse with a black arrow sprouting through his eye lying in a pool of fresh blood.
“Someone got a good shot in.” Rivvil comments about the dead body.
" 'Scuse me." Grishkar takes a minute to add 2 more claws to his menagerie.
“Soon your going to have to start stuffing those things into a bag. Otherwise, city guards are going to attack you on sight.” Rivvil says as the necromancer goes about his favorite spell.
"Hmm. You may be right." Grishkar's robes start to convulse and shuffle. Until a bulge forms over his shoulders and upper-back, "You would appreciate this, I suppose: Momma spider."
Rivvil shudders at the mention of Momma Spider. *Does the elf not know that Momma Spider is a sexual nickname some drow give Lloth?*
*Hey, do you copy?* Rose messages Rivvil.
*Loud and Clear. Where’d you go Wildcard?* Rivvil messages backs
*Seems appropriate. We’re almost done. You?* Rivvil sends back.
*I freed the prisoners and they’re willing to fight with us,* Rose reported. *Where do you want us to go?*
*Stay there. We’ll bring weapons for them to use. Find out if the old mans son is there.* Rivvil sends back before he turns to the others. “Rose found and freed some prisoners. They’re willing to fight so let’s bring them some crossbows from these guys to use.” Rivvil informs them.
"Oh well, very good. Everyone's making lots of new friends today." Grishkar's back-lump shifts and wriggles slightly.
*Oh he is, we’re friends now!* Rose messaged back.
*Perfect. We’ll bring as many weapons as we can. Directions to where you are?* Rivvil responds
*Well, I don’t know where you are, so directions might be difficult,* Rose smiled. *I’m on the north wall.*
*Good enough. We’ll find you.* Rivvil sends back. “Let’s take out this last murder hole and then find Rose and her army of prisoners. They’re on the north wall.” Rivvil informs the others.
While Rose waited with her newfound friends, Natah slid into the door, closing it behind her. "Backup isss here."
“Oh good, I missed you Nat,” Rose said softly, smiling widely. “Ex-prisoners, this is Natah. Natah, these are the fine people Mercer was keeping locked up. What do you have for us?”
"We liberated thessse weapons up in the murderholesss," Natah said, putting the various weapons down in a pile. "Welcome to the party."
“Ooh, murderholes.”
"Our resssident necromancer made new friendsss," Natah said, giving Rose a look.
“Oh, that reminds me, I need to warn our new friends,” Rose turned to the four freed prisoners. “We’ve got some... slightly unsavory looking members of our team. You have my word, we come with the best of intentions. That being said, one of our party does dabble in death magic. So don’t kill him on accident.”
Fallil grimaced while the pair of elves looked at each other curiously, but he nodded in agreement. Natah diverted her gaze, hoping the revelation of what she is stays hidden. With that out of the way, the sextet moved out to find the rest of the crew.
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Under Veldyn's guidance, the group heads down a ladder and begins to move around the rubble on the base level. They aren't able to make it very far before recognition. One of the deserters, fanning out some flames, spots the four of them moving along the stonewall. He shouts, "Hey! Who are ye!" Recognition hits his eyes after a few moments before he shouts, "Intruders! We got 'em in the gate!" The shouting draws the attention of the two closest groups of deserters as they all look towards the darkened figures hanging just beyond the fire's main light.
Rivvil, acting the quickest after being spotted moved up the closest guy and lashes at him with his fiery whip leaving a bright red scar. Veldyn moves directly up to the nearest deserter, banging his sword against his shield with each step. Once he gets close enough, he roars out, "Come at me, deserters! Show us why you fled your duties to live in this shit-filled fort!" He sets himself for their charge, shield raised high.
And the deserters certainly came. While the one that Rivvil assaulted charged at Rivvil, slashing wildly and allowing Veldyn the chance to slash at his side while he ran past, the remaining deserters around him launched crossbow bolts and slashed with swords, deeply wounding him.
Lenore points her hammer at Grishkar. "Before ye start hauling out yer toys and playing, get yerself a mite further along this wall, where Rivvil can catch any o' them before they get around here." She gestures toward the more distant deserters the others had called out to. Then Lenore jogs along the wall, sticking close to it, and gestures with her shield arm as she chants a prayer. A flash of radiance splashes the nearest crossbow wielder, splashing at him from the darkness so quickly he can't avoid it.
"You think me so careless...such a grave injustice." It's not clear if Grishkar is acting a fool or an offended parent. Regardless, he rushes to a nearby wagon, launching a pair of skeletal hands at nearby deserters, which ultimately miss.
The deserters further away charged between the burning ground and tents, loading up their crossbows and firing at the whole group of them. Veldyn was hit again, pierced in the shoulder, but did not fall.
Rivvil continues his assault on the same deserter but this time misses. He then repositions himself to be next to Veldyn. Veldyn pushes past the pain of the two sword strikes and the bolt that got past his defenses and glares at one of the deserters that engaged him, yelling, "The God of Vengeance looks down on you this day, and your debts to him will be paid!" He then pushes past the deserter's defenses, his sword glowing with righteous fury, and shoves his sword deep into the man's belly. Bloodlust in his eyes, it's as if he doesn't even realize he's outnumbered and on the brink of death.
In panic and frantic retaliation, the nearest deserters swung as Veldyn as his longsword plunged through their ally. One of the deserters brought him own sword into Veldyn's side, whispering, "And may Bhaal drag you down too."
Grishkar, seeing the poor state of his Zhent allies, unleashed his swarm of undead hands as he furthered the barrage of arcane energy. The hands swarmed the two deserters without warning as their loud screams of panic and fear became silent, falling to the undead onslaught as the hands ripped apart their throats and eyes. Arcane energy blasted from his hands as two more skeletal claws soared through the air, striking one deserter and killing him but missing the second.
Lenore glances toward the clash of swords from the other side of the campfire. But she keeps her focus on the crossbowman who's now shooting at her. "More'n one way to mitigate damage," she mutters as she marches straight past the fire and plants her sturdy form in front of the enemy. Knocking aside his crossbow with her shield, she delivers a hammer blow to his skull that finishes the job her spell started.
At this point, the remaining deserters knocked their crossbows and fired again, focusing their assault on Rivvil and Lenore. Two crossbow bolts pierced Rivvil square in the chest as he let out a low grunt and collapsed to the cold stone ground beneath him aside his fallen ally, Veldyn. Blood squirted from Rivvil's wound as blood poured slowly from Veldyn's.
One of the deserters, their heart thumping so loud it could be heard externally, loaded a crossbow bolt and aimed it at Grishkar's dark figure. Grishkar released a twisted smile as he stared the crossbow down with a dead gaze. It fired, and soared by his head. He chuckled maniacally as he tossed two more hands from his folds into the mass of undead which writhed around the deserter's desecrated corpses. With an almost childlike glee, Grishkar tilted his head to the side and smiled at the deserter and his ally next to him as the full might of his undead swarm bore on them both. The deserter could only begin to turn and run as the hands lept on him, ripping at his the weak parts of his flesh as he fell to the ground, quickly bleeding out. His ally was able to deflect some of their attacks, but only a few as several hands clung to him, continuing their assault.
Unfazed by the necrotic assault, Lenore rushed past the hands towards Veldyn, placing a healing hand on his chest. "Get up ye crazy human. There's more fightin' to be done," she spoke as his wounded quickly sealed up. He coughed up blood, clearing his throat and looked at her with glazed eyes.
From the darkness, Rose's voice sung, "You too... Blackie! Wake up from your nap!" Her words laced with healing energy, his open began to open as he stared into the night sky. Selune's Tears shone brilliantly on him, and he felt as if he could hear a second voice, more enchanting and melodic, whisper sweetly into his ear.
Natah, moving with two of the prisoners, focused fire on one of the deserters, dropping him with two crossbow bolts. The elves moved on their own accord, their long legs carrying them swiftly as they dashed along the east edge, sliding behind a tent as they stalked their prey. Their prey, while not seeing the elves, saw the chaos and slaughter around them. Cringing as they witnessed their allies get torn to shreds but undead hands, dropped their weapons with panic-filled eyes and frantic voices. "... Parley?"
Encounter Tracker:
- Uhh... lots of people hurt!
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Veldyn rose quickly, unaware that he had even fallen. He dashes towards the nearest unarmed deserter and digs his longsword deep into his flesh. Eyes bloodshot and blood spilling out of his mouth he whispers, "Bhaal has rejected your offering." (Hit unarmed deserter, 8 damage)
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Having just come back to Rivvil stand ups and quickly realizes how weak he currently is; weak enough that his blood magic could kill him. “I could really use a rest.” he complains while taking a defensive position and scanning the battlefield unsure of how it’s changed during his couple moments of unconsciousness.
Veldyn rose quickly, unaware that he had even fallen. He dashes towards the nearest unarmed deserter and digs his longsword deep into his flesh. Eyes bloodshot and blood spilling out of his mouth he whispers, "Bhaal has rejected your offering."
Through blood and smoke, Grishkar emerges from his cover as the image of death and horror. From his robes, a multitude of Crawling Claws come forth. Some skitter from below and tear at the legs and feet of their victims, others leap from his sleeves and shoulders onto the faces of foes. All the while, fire and decay spring from the necromancer's fingers as incantations of doom stream forth.
The last to fall was bloodied, though still standing, by Grishkar's assault. Left as an island among the damned undead, he was overrun. In seconds after toppling, the man's body was in ruins. Crawling Claws moved like a blight in their master's wake as he approached the last two desserters. "Now you have a choice. Join or die." The elf threw his short sword before him and to the pair, "As it turns out, we have a brand new batch of recruits, so space is limited. Considering your....proclivity for disloyalty, a demonstration is in order. Last one alive serves with us." The necromancer waits patiently for response, his swarm ready at his heels.
The two elves who had just ganked one of the two deserters scowls, but move back as a sign of non-interference.
Natah rushed over to where Veldyn was. "Isss everything alright? Are you okay?" She kept glancing at the two deserters. "What are we doing with them?"
Rivvil is silent and just sits down. Obviously, still very hurt from the onslaught of attacks.
Veldyn turns to Natah, then around to everyone that has joined in the fight against the deserters, finally assessing the scene. Long lines of red run down his chainmail and his teeth are red with blood as he speaks. "What did we find in the Northern section of the fort?" He asks. "Any sign of Mercer or the dwarf? We need to push the assault until they're all dead, fleeing, or surrendering." He looks down at the corpse of the deserter he just killed and spits a large glob of red on his corpse.
"I only found Rossse and the prisssonersss," Natah said, watching Veldyn, concern on her face. "Would you like me to go ssscout it out? There'sss a large building, if he'sss here, I think that'sss mossst likely."
"Lets see if the elves have still been waiting in the forest first," Veldyn responds, looking at the two elven ex-prisoners. "They'll be happy to see that we were able to save some of their scouting party. Lets raise the gates and let them in."
“The mess hall is up on the north wall,” Rose piped up. “Or at least, that’s where all the food is.”
Veldyn nods to Rose and points to the southern bridge and tower. "After we've raised the gates there, we'll have a better understanding of what forces we've allied against Mercer. Maybe we'll fortify outside the fort and let them make the next move..." He clutches his side as he says this, obviously in more pain than he's trying to show.
Natah noticed Veldyn holding his side. "You're injured," she said, grabbing his arm. "You're still bleeding. Can sssomeone do sssomething? I... don't have medical training."
While the group discussed amongst themselves their plan, the two surviving deserters looked at each other frantically, their eyes darting to the shortsword dropped between them, waiting to see who would move first. The wounded deserter lunged for the shortsword, but the uninjured one was smarter, moving for his loaded crossbow. The battle was over in less than a few rushed heartbeats as the uninjured deserter planted a crossbow bolt into the other deserter upper shoulder, angled at his heart. He dropped the crossbow on the ground in surrender once again, still scared out of his wits.
Grishkar approaches the remaining deserter, applauding, "Well done. I suppose he got....the point," he gives a sarcastic chuckle and waves his arms forward, "Let's give the man a hand for his works. Or maybe, how about several." The swarm of Crawling Claws surge forward and begin to envelop the man, "Despite my patron, I am true to my word! Let's welcome him to the fold!" Over several grisly minutes, Grishkar adds three more sets of Crawling Claws to his swarm, "Now then, let's proceed."
Rivvil stand up clearly also injured. He reaches down to the wineskin which only has one use of healing left. “Check their wine skins and their tents. Make sure they don’t have any healing potions on them.”
With the worst of the fighting over, Lenore hobbles to the wagon and leans heavily against it, taking the time to break off and pull through the most recent crossbow bolt where it pierced between the scales on her leg armor. Still sporting injuries from their encounter below, she's now also bleeding from additional fresh wounds. "No, no. I'm good." She pauses for a long, gurgling cough. "Don't give it another thought."
Glancing around, Lenore aims a pointed look at Veldyn. "If ye're actually asking for opinions this time around, I'm thinking if the opportunity to fortify presents itself, at least until we can do a little regrouping, that might be a wise choice. I can't speak for Rose or for yerself, but my spells are all but drained. Ye pull another stunt like that last one, and it might indeed be yer last one."
"Let'sss get the elvesss in here," Natah suggested while cringing. "We ssstill don't know where the necromancer isss, and none of you look well enough to fight him if we do find him."
Lenore nods in agreement with Natah. "If we're going into that gatehouse, though, let's be a little cautious about it. Ye'd think if there're more o' Mercer's inside, they'd be well alerted and joining the fray out here. But ye never know."
Natah looked at the gatehouse and took a deep breath. "I guesss we'd better find out." Hoping to convey a bit of confidence, she strode over to the gatehouse, hiding the fact that she was terrified. "We've killed your comradesss," she yelled. "Put down your weaponsss and come out peacefully, and we will allow you to live."
Veldyn nods to the others and makes his way over to the gatehouse cautiously.
Natah bursts into the gatehouse, finding it empty. Embarrassed by her display, she followed up with, "Yeah, that'sss what I thought!" She began looking for a way to get the gates open.
Lenore raises her eyebrows at Natah's display and chuckles with quiet appreciation. She stays where she is, leaning on the wagon and catching her breath, while the others go off to do their thing.
Veldyn follows her in, a slight grin on his face at the sheer ferocious display. He assists her in finding a way to get the gate open.
A few moments into Natah and Veldyn's search, they find what looks like the wheel of a ship bored into the stone with a long metal chain running into the ceiling above.
"Thisss looksss like it," Natah says to Veldyn. "Are you able to help me with thisss?"
Veldyn nods, taking the wheel in his hands and attempting to turn it.
Purely due to Natah's sheer strength, Veldyn and her are able to twist the wheel. They can hear the lurching of grating stone coming from the open doorway at the top of the stairs in the room.
"Sssomeone get the elves," Natah yelled out the door.
"Grishkar can likely send them a message again," Veldyn offered.
Rivvil comes out of the deserters tents and goes towards the group “No potions. But I found these.” He says holding out a couple of items that look important “Are we going to rest now?”
In Rivvil's hands, he holds a fearful helmet, made out of black metal with bone horns sprouting from it, a large clockwork piece, like it came from some construct, as well as a brilliant gem that seems to hold a light deep within it, and a vibrant purple stone shaped like a pyramid.
Grishkar makes his way to each facing wall and creates an illusionary banner depicting the Zhentarim crest and "SAFE" written in Elvish.
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
With the courtyard claimed and the gates razed and raised (tee-hee, word puns), the group took a much-needed rest after they blockaded the doors leading into the northern compound and the northeast tower. The stars shone brilliantly as Selune's Tears arched across the sky, an omen an elf might have taken of Sehanine's approval. Within the hour, their elven allies marched through the two gates, moving silently under the night sky. Counting their numbers, the Zhents realized a few of them had fallen during the siege. They marched into the courtyard somberly, under the leadership of the nameless she-elf. The two prisoner elves quickly rushed over and embraced their kin and clansfolk as excited Elvish whispers circulated amongst themselves, sharing their past experiences and memories.
Once the elves had reunited with their comrades, a more somber ceremony was administered as the equipment of their fallen kin was passed to the prisoners, who carefully and thoughtfully put on the gear. They ran their hands across the smooth, carved wood of the longbows, closing their eyes and bringing the grip to their lips with a kiss and whispering a few words in Elvish. Once the ceremony was complete, the she-elf looked to the Zhentarim as they partook in their own ceremonial passing of the magic items.
As the group is sitting around for their short rest Rivvil looks at all the magical loot he found. He knows what everything is and after some thought, he decides to thank and build some trust with this individuals by gifting some of his findings to them. “Rosiniana thanks for healing me back there. You didn’t have to do that. Here I want you to have this. It’s an Ioun Stone of Spell Storing. You can store a couple of your spells in it and then use them later. It looks like it already has one inside it. Some spell that lets you breathe underwater.”
Rivvil then turns to Lenore “You’re the newest and I don’t know much about you or dwarves in general. But you have saved me and the others with some of your magic. Here’s some piece of metal that I think use to be part of a metal construct. Dwarves are good with metal, right? I’m sure you could figure out how to turn this piece back into some type of construct for yourself.”
Next Rivvil goes to Natah “You like hiding your face. I thought this might help.” He says as he hands her the Dread Helm. “You can also use it to make your eyes glow red and then you look more like a drow. Helps with the scary thing you do.”
Natah looked at the helm, confused. "Ssscary thing?" she asked, looking to Veldyn.
Finally, Rivvil goes to Veldyn the half-drow has a blush on his face as he gives the human the gift. “This.....this is a gem of brightness. You....you....you can use it to create light. Small enough light to see like a torch. Or...or super bright light that can blind someone.” Rivvil explains before he quickly sits back down and attempts to hide the blush.
Grishkar stands behind Veldyn, staring at Rivvil. He holds the wrist of a Crawling Claw with fingers and thumb curled into a ring as he wags it up and down.
Veldyn, currently wrapping the wounds on his torso, nods to Rivvil in thanks. "Better than a torch, I suppose," he says, dropping the small stone in his pouch. "Remember that the Zhentarim demands a cut of all loot found in our travels. Be sure to set aside the appropriate amount for these trinkets."
“Yes. Well. I’m sure it’ll come out of our payment we were getting for the job.” Rivvil says while looking down and getting his mind back into mission mode.
Natah leans closer to Veldyn. "What ssscary thing?" she whispered.
A hand pokes Natah's leg. On the ground, a Crawling Claw skitters to another one and taps its wrist. When the second turn, the first springs up with fingers splayed and shaking. The second seems to collapse in fright. Then the first twists and waves as though a part of a bow.
Natah jumps away from the disembodied hand. "Ssstop that!"
Veldyn grins, strapping his padding on. "You can be quite deadly, Natah. You always seem to find a vulnerable spot, your threats are perfectly timed and effective, and you sharpen your claws to a point..." He pulls his chainmail up and drapes it over his head. "You can be pretty intimidating to some people."
Natah looked at Veldyn skeptically. "If you sssay ssso." She continued to look at the helm for a moment longer, then gingerly dropped her mask and hood. Putting the helm on, she looked back at Veldyn, with glowing red eyes. "Well?"
Veldyn lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Gods... you look like you crawled out of the nine hells." He pulls his tunic on and cinches his belt tight around it. "It's a pretty fiendish look if I ever saw one," he smirks as he says this and follows it up with, "I approve," in fiendish.
Not understanding the strange language Veldyn began talking in, Natah quickly dropped her face and pulled the helmet off. She pulled the mask over her face once again and the hood over her head.
One of Grishkar's claws seems to jump when Natah dons the helmet, then falls flat. Another scurries over and starts fanning it off.
Natah frowned, hiding her face.
Rivvil can’t help but let out the smallest of chuckles at these hands but, he quickly stops himself. He doesn’t want to encourage Grishkar.
Rose walked over to Rivvil and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to give me- thank you for thinking of me.”
Rivvil, knowing this is a hug and not an attempt to suffocate him, says “You’re welcome. You’ve saved both my life and Veldyn’s and all the others. You’ve earned it. Just make sure Chewie doesn’t attempt to eat it while it circles your head.”
Lenore blinks at Rivvil, obviously surprised when he hands her the clockwork piece. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before settling on a simple grunt and nod. "This dwarf enjoys working with metal, at least. Thank ye. I'll see if I can't figure out some way to put this to good use for the Zhentarim." For a second, Lenore looks like she might start fiddling with the clockwork right then and there, but good sense sets in. She carefully packs it away and turns her attention back to binding her wounds and getting her gear settled for the next step along their journey.
“I’ll always have your back,” Rose smiled at Riv. Chewie, you know not to eat magic items, right?
Chewie barked an affirmative as he began gnawing on one of the deserter's bones.
Once the Zhentarim ceremony was complete, the she-elf approached the group. In broken Common, she asked, "Where is this duergar? I wish to see the corpse."
Veldyn sheathes his sword after checking it for cracks and chips and gestures to the barricaded keep. "They're holed up in there," he says to the she-elf. "He left his people outside to be slaughtered and took refuge inside. Care to breach it with us?" He asks.
Lenore grunts in general disgusted agreement with the way Veldyn worded his reply. Taking a last swipe at her warhammer so that it fairly sparkles like new, she ambles over to stand just behind and to one side of Veldyn and tips her head at the elf, waiting for the reply.
Having rested and ready to take down that necromancer Rivvil cuts a fresh wound on his hand and smears it across his whip igniting it. “Let’s go do this.”
She immediately stood on edge, barking out an order to the elves who quickly ended their festivities, getting into arrangement around the northern compound. "They live and you rest??"
“If we did not rest, we would probably not have lived,” Rose replied.
“And you would still be in jail and down in the necromancer lab being turned into pathetic zombies. Now. Are we going to argue or are we going to kill shit.” Rivvil states not liking the elves attitude.
Lenore snorts and opens her mouth. Then she glances around at Rose and Rivvil and simply shrugs as if to say she couldn't have said it better herself.
She grinned wickedly at the defiant half-drow. "Alam'cair told me on you... Ssri-tel-quessir. Uhradwhael kept my blades sheathed." She glanced back to the compound and to her elves. "Yes. Let's kill shit."
“Good,” Rivvil says as he puts his unarmed hand in his pocket and finds the clockwork amulet. Finally realizing what it is he throws it to Grishkar. “Don’t say I never found something for you. It’ll help you be average at something. Which is better than your normal mediocrity.”
Natah stood, looking at the helm that was given to her. "Let'sss do sssomething," she said, gliding toward the barricaded keep.
As Lenore watches the amulet sail past her head on the way to Grishkar, her eyebrows raise as if she recognizes something about it. Rather than commenting on it, however, Lenore turns her attention to studying the front of the keep. "So. How're we doing this?"
Veldyn watches as Natah marches towards the keep. "Well, we don't know what waits for us on the other side. Likely they've barricaded themselves in if they didn't have a secret exit already established. Rose," he glances at the gnome, "mentioned there was food inside, so that would make waiting them out more difficult. I imagine they're poised to fire at the first thing they see attempting to breach the doors. In a perfect world, we barricade, open the doors, and wait in ambush as they starve inside."
"Then burn it down," Natah suggested.
"Hmm. A piece of a puzzle with unknown total pieces, purpose, or final design. Madness attracts madness, I suppose." Grishkar says.
"We could smoke them from two sides and force them through the entrance we designate," Veldyn says, glancing at the tower. "But the stone has withstood centuries so simply burning it down won't do."
"What about trap doorsss?" Natah pointed to the building she had found Rose. "There wasss one in there, there could be one in the keep. They could be long gone by now."
"We won't know until we check," Veldyn replies. "How well are you at scaling walls?" He asks.
Natah eyed the walls. "I could try. What do you have in mind?"
"The tower," Veldyn points. "If there are any windows, it's likely in the tower."
While they're talking, Lenore ambles a little closer and inspects the keep's walls, looking over the stonework for weak points and/or places Natah might be able to find the best for climbing. "Good news is, there're several likely places for climbing," Lenore says and points them out to Natah. "Huh," she adds as an afterthought. "Th' stonework's different up here than it is below. This keep is more recent."
"Let's check the rest of the courtyard before we come up with a plan," Veldyn says, pointing out the various areas they've yet to explore.
Natah nodded and began to walk to the east side of the courtyard crossbow at the ready.
As Natah walked to the east side, she found the flames absent in this area, concealing her movement under the cover of darkness. She heard the soft movement of hooves on stone coming from a large room built into the wall along the east wall.
Natah stopped at the door, hiding in the shadows and looked inside. Other than the movement of the horses, she saw and heard nothing else. She did a quick sweep of the building, finding no other deserters, no trap doors. Seeing that she had startled the horses, she backed out of the building slowly. Getting Veldyn's attention, she simply shook her head, indicating she'd found nothing.
Veldyn nods to Natah and gestures for her to go with him to the tower. He glances back to make sure the others follow.
Natah nods and begins making her way to the tower.
Rivvil is following shield and whip up ready for an attack. He leads them to the door to the tower that is unlocked and leads to a spiral staircase. He motions for the others to follow him as he tentatively climbs the staircase keeping an eye out for traps as he’s climbing up.
Natah follows, crossbow raised and ready.
Traveling upward, the staircase ends at a trapdoor in the ceiling which draws closer to them as they travel up the stairs.
“Natah. This door is trapped. Can you disarm it?” Rivvil asks after Investigating the door.
Natah nodded and moved in front of Rivvil.
Natah lifts the trapdoor just a paper's length and feels the slightest pressure. Peering through the crack, she sees a small latch attached to some trigger, and removing the latch from the trigger, she opens to door. A curious contraption is set by the trap door, rigged to several alchemist's flasks set against a large barrel.
Natah gingerly steps into the room.
Lenore peers up through the trapdoor in the ceiling and frowns. "There any actual enemies up there, lass? 'Cause if there's naught more than a trap waiting to be set off, maybe we'd be better off not getting anyone killed until after we find Mercer and his lackey Duergar."
Natah slowly scanned the room. "Nobody elssse isss here. I think you're right. We need to find that dwarf."
Lenore nods approvingly. "Ye need a hand down, lass?" she calls up to Natah, ignoring the fact that she is four feet tall and only going to be helpful if Natah needs to use her head as a step stool to get down.
Rivvil peers up. “Is that Alchemist Flasks?” He asks before he proceeds to rush up like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, man. I loved playing with the Alchemist supplies back when I was kid.” Rivvil proceeds to say as he looks over what’s actually there.
Natah gave Lenore a confused look, unsure if this was acceptable behavior. Deciding that it must be, or the dwarf wouldn't have offered, Natah began to step down, onto the smaller woman, when Rivvil bounded the rest of the way up. "Be careful. There'sss a reassson they made that the trap." Deciding she wanted nothing more to do with those barrels, Natah dropped down. "Thank you," she said to Lenore.
Valdyn continues to wait at the bottom of the tower.
"Come on," said Natah to Lenore. "Let'sss get out of here before he ssstartsss messsing with that ssstuff. That entire room is designed to explode us to hell." She began to quickly descend, and upon seeing Veldyn, began to pull him away. "We don't want to be closssse, jussst in cassse."
Veldyn takes Natah's advice and follows her away from the tower. "I was able to hear the conversation. Sounds serious," he says, looking up at it.
“It’ll be fine. We can use this to burn the keep to the ground once we’re done.” Rivvil calls downward.
Hey, Riv, can I have your stuff if you die? Rose messaged from a safe distance.
I thought at least you’d have confidence in me. Rivvil says with a ping of sadness.
I have confidence in you. This is a blanket request! We are in a dangerous line of work you know.
"I'm very lucky to have been able to disarm that trap," Natah said, looking up at the tower from a safe distance away. "It could have easssily taken my head off." Looking at Veldyn again, she added, "Then you wouldn't have had to worry about my loyaltiesss."
"It would be tough to explain to your sister after I find her," Veldyn responds.
I’ll answer that after I come back down with tons of Alchemist Stuff Rivvil replied to Rose.
"Why would you even care about finding her if I die?" Natah asked, confused. "You have no attachment to her. You didn't even know ssshe exisssted."
I’ll take that as a yes. Rosie responds.
Veldyn gives Natah a side-grin. "It was a joke, Natah."
"Oh," Natah said, not understanding the joke. "Yesss, quite amusssing." She forced out a fake laugh.
During the sweep of the remaining bits of the outer area, Grishkar takes cover in a tent. "Guard the entrance," he commands a group of hands. With a bit of blood and chalk, he traces a small circle on the floor and begins an incantation. After several minutes, he emerges again, rolling a small spider across his fingers. "Who's ready to move along?"
Rivvil steps into the room with his whip ablaze. The contraption he sees is several alchemist fires dangling precariously above the stone ground, their glass vials begging to be shattered to unleash the contents within. Separate strings are attached to each one, eventually woven together as they hang from a loop suspended from the tower's ceiling. The rope trails downward to a small, curious, mechanical contraption that the delicate rope is fed through.
Natah, still watching the tower, says to Grishkar, "We're waiting to ssseee if Rivvil blowsss up."
Next to where they'd land if they fell sat a large wooden barrel. Looking throughout the room, it's clear someone wealthy spent a good amount of time here. A plump bed with scarlet bedding lay against the wall, with ornate paintings of fashionable pirates hung against the walls.
Not seeing anything worth value or an easy way to take the Alchemical Stuff Rivvil comes down empty-handed. “They left in a hurry before making that trap. Very well done trap. It might blow the whole place up. When we’re done here Grishkar should have a hand set it off.”
"No way to ussse it to blow up the barricade?" Natah looked toward the barricaded building. "Would be an easssy way to rid ourssselves of a certain necromancer."
“I wouldn’t move it unless you want it to blow yourself up.” Rivvil explains.
"I'm not wasting a pet just to tell the enemy where we stand." He holds out his arm to show off the spider familiar, "Now then, if we can decide how to approach, I can certainly scout ahead of us."
"Perhaps scout ahead so that we can decide how we wish to approach," Veldyn counters.
Grishkar grunts and nods as his new familiar spins a string of web and leaps off the tip of Grishkar's finger, slowly descending onto the cold stone floor below. It scutters over to the west-facing door and then disappears beneath the noticeably large crack between the stone and the door's bottom.
A few minutes later, the spider pops back into existence atop Grishkar's shoulder and he gives a grim smile. "The good news is the compound is vacant. The bad news is we don't get any new flesh-toys to play with."
Lenore scowls. "Vacant?" she huffs. "I suppose with him being able to teleport himself away from us, we shouldn't be over-surprised. You think he took Mercer and hauled ass outta here entirely?"
"Maybe there'sss another trapdoor and they went back down to the portal," Natah suggested. "Either way, we ssshould invessstigate."
“We should at least see what’s behind that wall. With him gone we can attempt to track him but, I don’t know how easy or difficult that’s going to be.” Rivvil says
Lenore nods and waggles a finger, first at Natah and then at Rivvil. "Points. Good ones. We could go in here and see if we can follow whatever way they went. Or maybe it would be smarter to backtrack the way we came. Faster than tiptoeing into whatever trap they might've set for us inside here, with the bonus that we can maybe catch 'em by surprise." Lenore pauses for a breath and shrugs. "Assuming they're not long gone through that portal already, of course."
"What exactly are we dealing with in there, Grishkar?" Veldyn asks. If it's undead, it'll be easier to open the doors and take them out from the courtyard.
"Nothing," Grishkar responds flatly, "But nothing and something can sometimes be just as dangerous." The spider moves again under the door, skitters up a wall, and onto the ceiling. Grishkar's eyes roll to white and he holds out his hands, "Let me be your eyes and ears. Unfortunately, I can't use my own, so one of you will have to be a dear and guide me."
"Did you at leassst check for trapsss?" Natah said, looking at the door skeptically.
"It's a spider, not a cat burglar," Grishkar quips about 2' to the side of Natah, "It's a bit tricky to see through four times the eyes, so excuse me if I can't spot when a rat passes gas in there."
Natah smiles and moves to the other side of Grishkar, getting close to his ear. "You ssshould be able to ssse a tripwire, no?" Then she walks toward the door.
His head turns slightly toward the lispy voice, "My dear, I'm deaf and blind right now. Try again later."
Then his eyes turn back to white...
Rose, who took it upon herself to lead Grishkar, steers him straight into a section of un-even ground and trips him.
A swarm of hands assault Rose in a flurry of pinches and flicks
Veldyn leads the group over to start disassembling the barrier.
Lenore silently observes the interactions going on around her. When Veldyn makes the call to start disassembling the barrier, she doesn't ask questions. She just follows suit.
Rose attempts to shake every hand that attacks her.
Once the last of the barricade is down, Veldyn pulls his sword and prepares his shield. "Get ready," he says, opening the door.
Natah pulls her crossbow at the ready, and nods at Veldyn.
Rivvil has his whip ready and ignited.
Opening the western door, the Zhents barge into the common room within the compound, finding it deserted. Crates and barrels bearing Noltengarde's symbol are stacked against the north wall, and the two long tables lay strewn with random bits and other things: plates, half-eaten food, some copper and silver pieces, a deck of cards, a knife, etc. Sweeping over towards the southern double doors and opening them reveals a similar blank site: a simply kitchen with cabinets and a sink filled with dirty water with several plates stacked within it.
"Stay on your guard," Veldyn says, weapon still drawn. "Rose, Natah... check the crates. They're the only things I see piled high, there may be a passage behind them. I'll take a closer look at the kitchens." With that, Veldyn moves towards the kitchens and begins a thorough search of the area.
Lenore assists as best she can with assorted searching of the premises. When it becomes increasingly apparent that no one is there, she eventually repeats her earlier opinion with all the patience a dwarf can muster. "If th' gray bastard teleported himself away once, I don't find it too hard to believe he magicked himself and Mercer both out of here, too. Our best hope of catching up to them may be to backtrack to the room with the shadow door. Unless they've simply fled the premises altogether, of course."
Natah began to search through crates, finding the same thing in many of them, "Food and building sssuppliesss," she reported back to Veldyn.
Veldyn nods to Lenore. "What of the cells? And were there people here when Rose and Natah snuck in?" Veldyn returns empty handed from the kitchens as he says this.
Rivvil, who has just been doing as he was told, piped up saying “I agree with the Lenore. If nothings here let’s go check the shadow door. Make sure they didn’t flee there. If they did leave the castle I might get lucky and be able to track them but the longer we are here the less likely is becomes that’ll I’ll be able to do so.”
Standing in the middle of the common room, Lenore turns slowly in place, squinting as if she thinks she must have missed something. She takes in the crates and barrels Natah and Rose went through, the cluttered tables, and the double doors to the south that Veldyn himself just returned from. With a slow shake of her head, she asks, "Cells, sir?"
"I grabbed our new friends from some different cells, that aren't connected to here," Rose said softly.
"It wasss jussst Rossse and the othersss when I got there," Natah agreed.
Veldyn nods. "Lets see what's behind the big, dark, door then," he says, making his way out and towards the elves.
"The dooger teleported to safety, it's unknown if Mercer was with him. They're long gone," Veldyn tells them. "We'll continue to track them and hunt them down, but for the night we plan to camp out here. You're free to join us as well, as they could be lurking in the forest as we speak."
The she-elf turned her head to Veldyn after speaking with two of her clansfolk. She looked around at the slain bodies an embers of burned-down crates, straw, and wood surrounded them. "Such war is disgusting," she remarked, "which is why we avoid it it with Noltengarde's people." She thought for a few more moments, contemplating the proper course of action. "We will return to the village. The stone's protection is more imporant than fort's. We will place a barricade blocking them from returning by horse or wagon too... Make the slaughter at lumber house more... uninviting."
Rivvil nods “Making the lumber house as least inviting to the Duergar as possible is probably best. Otherwise, he’ll raise them for a new undead army.”
"Be safe, friend," Veldyn says, finally. He then nods to the others and makes his way towards the stairs to the lower dungeons of the keep. As he passes the others, he says, "Lets see what this dark door has to offer."
Jackmon rushed after them soon after Veldyn's conversation with the she-elf. "Hold up! I'll come with. Now that the necromancer is gone, I want to see what's down there."
"Lets go," Veldyn responds. "Dalton run off?"
"He died," Jackmon responded simply. "Took an arrow to the knee and bleed out abnormally quickly."
Valdyn grimaces and says, "An arrow to the knee will do it, I hear. Sorry about that. Hope you hid him well, else Grishkar will be digging him up."
Fallil and Denver tended to deserter's fire amidst the tents in the center of the courtyard. Their faces were weary, but they both had a plate filled with food from the central compound, eagerly eating from them while they sat.
Jackmon looked over at the fire and the large plates of food Fallil and Denver had. His eyes went wide as he muttered a silent curse, hid his face deeper in his hood, and quickly headed for the stairs leading below.
Lenore listens to the exchange regarding Dalton and snorts quietly. As Jackmon falls in with the group, she aims a dark look at him. "Best to keep yer wits about ye down there," she remarks. "There's a rare chance the gray bastard is still lurking about down there. If he gets his hands on ye, ye'll be lucky if the worst he does is stuff ye in a trunk." While her gravelly voice reveals as little emotion as ever, Lenore might sound a little bit like she hopes Jackmon gets the chance to find out.
Jackmon stopped dead in his tracks as Lenore mentioned the duergar still being alive. His voice a little deeper and off, he replied, "Well, I'll just let you lead the way then!"
Lenore snorts again, more loudly this time, and motions Jackmon ahead of her. "Fat chance. Get yer meat shield self to th' front of the line. Ye're working out some sort of redemption, aye?"
He groaned, bringing Dalton's old shield in front of him and a battleaxe at the ready as he lead the charge below. "Yeah yeah... don't remind me, dwarf."
"Don't need reminding o' nothing," Lenore replies. "Yer living might serve the Zhent right now. Don't mean I won't forget what I owe you if it ever comes about ye stop serving."
Jackmon said nothing, staying silent at her veiled threat while continuing to move down the stairs.
Rivvil smirks before saying to Jackmon “If you would have taken me up on my original offer you wouldn’t have to be front lines because you wouldn’t be able to walk straight.”
Natah had seen Jackmon's reactions and heard his voice, beginning to piece things together. "I don't blame you for coming with usss," she said, keeping her crossbow ready. "I don't blame you for avoiding Fallil."
He only gave a curt nod, his back turned to Natah and the rest of the group as his hood concealed his face.
Grishkar surveys the damage done. Content, he gathers up his swarm once more and meets the others, "What're we waiting for?"
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
With their questionably-loyal meatshield in the front, the Zhents travelled down the wide, spiraling staircase, reaching the bottom. As Lenore had noticed, the architecture was different upon reaching the bottom. They moved through the gore left behind from the crawling claw slaughter, noting the Draconic runes on the walls, and then reached the room with the large, double-doored stone door with shadows seeming to emanate from it. On the stone door's surface, they could see strange right angles etched across the face, all connected to each other in some fashion, with varying, small symbols lying in each right angle's corner.
Veldyn leans against the back wall as he watches. He knows his limits, and stuff such as this is beyond them. He keeps his weapons and shield handy in case something eventually pops out of the door.
Lenore peers at the shadow-covered surface for a few moments and then shrugs. "I can tell ye about stone. About those runes, I can tell ye a lot less. They bear any resemblance to the ones we saw before, in the earlier corridors?" She glances toward Rivvil and Grishkar as she asks.
“The door doesn’t seemed to appear trapped. At least not in the mundane way. It does however radiate magic. If I was to guess I’d say necromancy in nature but unless someone has some sort of magic detection spell I can’t say for sure. Just be careful when touching it.” Rivvil tells the others after examining the door.
Natah stepped forward, looking at the door, while digging round in her pack. She withdrew the journal and from the journal, the scrap of paper with runes drawn upon it. "Thisss hasss sssomething to do with thisss door," she said, holding the scrap up, looking between it and the door. "I don't think I'm able to figure thisss out. I know it'sss written in Draconic, but it'sss a cipher of sssome sssort." Natah peered at the symbols and shook her head. "I can't figure it out. Sssomeone elssse want to try?"
"Sure, lets give it a shot. I don't know the language of dragons but we have a cipher so it can't hurt to try." Rivvil says. "I can't read it but here. It makes like a sentence or something." Rivvil says as he points out the corresponding letters and the long flow of them to Natah who can read draconic.
Natah reads the characters pointed out and shakes her head. "Thisss isss ssstill gibberisssh. I don't know what it'sss sssuposssed to mean."
"Try sounding it out aloud. Maybe something will happen." Rivvil says with an excited look.
Natah looks to Veldyn for input. Veldyn nods for her to go ahead, saying, "This isn't my area of expertise." Natah nods and turns back to the door. Slowly, she says the words in Draconic, then pauses looking at the door. Moments pass, but nothing happens. "Maybe touch them?" Veldyn offers.
"Grishkar. Can you have one of your hands trace the pattern I pointed out?" Rivvil asks the necromancer. Grishkar gives a shrug and a hand skitters down and up to the shadowy door.
Natah speaks out loud again, touching the corresponding runes. Again, nothing happens.
"Well. Nevermind. Hmmmm.....should we just attempt to push it open?" Rivvil asks the group.
Veldyn feels the hair on the back of his neck rise as an airy voice enters his mind. "Reeeeaaaad the scroll," is the voice's command. (Suggestion - Rolled 16 for save - Failed) Veldyn steps forward from his perch and approaches Natah and Rivvil. He slowly reaches over and plucks the scroll from their fingers. Looking it over briefly, he begins reading every word on the scroll out loud.
As Veldyn's spoke each Draconic letter with a glazed expression, the cipher symbols glowed a brilliant blue light on the stone's shadowy surface, transforming into the appropriate symbol. When Veldyn finished speaking the words, the glazed look disappeared, and he looked up to see the whole stone surface glowing in blue Draconic letters. A magical hum that had slowly been building up while he spoke suddenly stops as the stone doors crack open, slowly swinging to the sides of the wall, and revealing a pitch-black room, mirroring the one the group currently stood in. A second voice enters Veldyn's mind as the words finish. This voice is almost alien, like a shrill. "Sooooo.... my blood still continues, thousands of years later."
Natah looks at Veldyn confused. "What did you do?"
"****ed if I know," Veldyn responds. "Something told me to read it, and I couldn't stop myself from obeying its commands." He takes a few steps back and retrieves his sword from where he left it.
“Looks like he just has a talented tongue.” Rivvil says with a wink before he summons his dancing lights to attempt to illuminate the newly opened room.
"Sssomthing told you?" Natah looked at the others, fearful. "Isss... isss sssomething controlling you?" She brought her crossbow up before her chest.
After retrieving his weapon, Veldyn looks into the darkness. "Who... what... are you?" He asks it. Veldyn's words hung in the air, met with absolute silence. Natah stared at Veldyn intensely. As soon as Veldyn started with the weird behavior, Lenore took her hammer from her belt and started watching Veldyn like a hawk. A short, stumpy hawk.
"There's at least two," Veldyn says to the others as they look at him with skepticism. "They spoke in my head..."
"That's not th' most reassuring thing I've ever heard ye say." Without taking her eyes off Veldyn, she nods toward the newly-opened room. "Coming from in there, maybe?"
Natah slowly lifted her crossbow, until it was aimed at Veldyn. "Are you a liability?" Veldyn gives Natah a cold, hard stare in response.
“He’s fine.” Rivvil says in Veldyns defense. “The priestess Of Lloth have her speak to them in their heads all the time.”
"I need to know, Veldyn," Natah said, clearly frightened. "We all need to know."
Lenore snorts in Rivvil's direction. "Still not reassuring." She aims a frown at Veldyn. "Don't be death-staring th' lass. Ye'd ask the same question, were it one of us."
His Master speaks, yes?" Grishkar moves forward, the weight of his hand-army slumping his shoulders, "It's not uncommon by any means."
"I'm in control of myself right now," he responds. "Else I'd be doing something else than trying to calm your paranoia."
"And if you ssshould lossse control?" Natah's crossbow lowered slightly.
“He’s not possessed by a demon. I would know. Demon possessions was one of the things I was taught to look for in someone. It’s all in the eyes and his eyes are just as blue as they normally are.” Rivvil explains. Lenore rolls her eyes, whether at Veldyn or Rivvil, it's hard to tell. But she does loosen her grip on her hammer.
"Whatever it is, it wanted me to open the door," Veldyn explains. "Be ready for anything." Natah nodded, aiming her crossbow toward the door, but her eyes never leaving Veldyn. Lenore grunts in agreement. Finally taking her eyes off Veldyn, she moves up a bit closer to the door (but not too close) and tries to peer inside using her darkvision.
Grishkar steps up next to Veldyn and behind Lenore, "If you stare too long into The Abyss, well...." His robes wriggle excitedly.
As Rivvil's dancing lights cross the threshold of darkness, their light dwindles and fades, illuminating nothing. Lenore's darkvision helps her sight, allowing her to see the bare outline of the room. Just within the edge of her darkvision, she sees a dark figure disappear beyond the limit of her darkvision, fading into the room's inky blackness.
“Really. I’m getting tired of my lights not working.” Rivvil mutters before looking at Veldyn. “See if your gem works.”
Lenore frowns, and her grip tightens once more on her hammer. "There's someone in there. They've moved to the back of the room, out of my sight. But I most certainly saw someone."
Natah turned her attention to the door. "If we have to come in there after you," she yells. "You won't like the end resultsss. I sssuggessst you come out here. Now!" Natah's intimidation is met with silence, as whatever was there had either disappeared or not given in to your threats.
Veldyn touches the gemstone he tied to his belt and whispers, "Lumos." The gemstone flares to life in a brilliant light. (30' bright, 30' dim) Veldyn's gemstone shone brightly within their room, but the light dimmed significantly once it crossed the blackened threshold of the door's frame. Still, the bright light was able to pierce the inky blackness his vision offered him, showing him the room up to thirty feet out.
Rivvil gives a silent nod and slowly and carefully begins to make his way into the room. Valdyn enters as well, crotch-stone leading the way. Crossbow raised and at the ready, Natah followed close, making sure not to let Veldyn get too far away from her. Lenore watches with a thoughtful frown as the others cross the threshold. After a few seconds, she heaves a resigned sigh and follows after, shield and warhammer in hand.
The group slowly moved through the door's threshold with extreme caution. As they crossed the entrance, their senses seemed to dull. Sounds were muffled slightly. Light didn't shine as brightly. Even the colors they wore seemed to be drained from their vivid hues, giving the whole atmosphere a dreary and depressing feeling. Off in the darkness, beyond the edge of Veldyn's shining codpiece, a voice travelled, echoing across the dark stone. "Friends... friends... friends... friends... friends!" the voice called in an unfamiliar tone. Those with darkvision could make out a humanoid-sized figure with a massive cowled head, walking from the edge of their darkvision and towards the edge of Veldyn's light.
"Show, yourself." Rivvil says still on edge.
They heard the sound of groveling from the figure as he continued at the same pace. "I haven't had to run for centuries. I'm not about to do so now! But you've followed orders and pleased Our Unholy Lord, so that is good news." As the figure talks and walks, he eventually steps into view of the group. What first appeared as a massive, cowled head became three distinct, separate heads, each one cowled, the flesh stripped from their faces long ago.
Grishkar smiles amidst the sensory trap of the room, "Who are you and who do you serve?"
The central mouth hung open for a moment and then closed again. They saw that the other two skulls' mouths were bound by a metal plate grafted into the jaw, preventing them from speaking. "Your... your Organ sent the uninitiated, mere recruits, to open a Netherese portal for the Baleful God's gain? Gods, your Thought has balls larger than my heads!" He laughed heartily, looking at the panic and confusion in their faces. "My oh my... well, your Thought has their reasons for their Organ, just as I do for mine."
"Never hears it like that, but I suppose so, yes. My Thought's balls are quite respectable," Grishkar responds.
He chuckled, looking over Grishkar. "You must be a low-ranking Tooth. I heard the Tooth opening this would be shorter but... you know. Interplanar communication is so shoddy and unreliable."
"Wait. Tooth. Do you mean Fang? Are you....are you working with the Zhentarim?" Rivvil asks the skeletal creature.
He threw his arms open wide in dramatic effect, bowing down low. "But where are my manners. Welcome to the Shadowfell! I am this Organ's humble Thought, Drek'rauvokai. Zhentarim? I don't know the full extent of Our Undead King's intracate plans, but it's possible such allegiances are formed."
Lenore hangs back, listening closely but letting Rivvil and Grishkar do the talking. "Not sure what that thing is," Lenore finally murmurs quietly to Rivvil and Grishkar. "But it's fair brimming with arcane power. Tread light. But ah... keep talking, by all means."
"Organ is some type of organization. I think he believes we're a part of it and sent here to open up a portal between the Material Plane and the Shadowfell." Rivvil whispers to the others.
Grishkar takes a step forward, "Great Harbinger, I believe our purposes are entwined, but you must forgive this mortal shell for being so ignorant from so few years of reprehensible Life. Would you illuminate further on yours or your master's purpose? I believe we have much to gain from each other's assistance." A few hands creep down from Grishkar's robes like curious spiders.
Rosie stands at the edge of the threshold, not going over it.
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Veldyn watches the creature as it stalks through the shadows, noting that its voice didn't sound like the second one he heard.
Overhearing Rivvil's whispering, the creature smiled. "By Bhaal's balls! Your Thought really keeps the noose of knowledge short on her part of the Body. But, bravo to her for keeping you all unaware of even why you came here. Please, send Lady Erenelor my regards, and tell her to try and be more open with the knowledge she divvies."
A gleam shone in the undead's purple orbs embedded with its skull's sockets. "You seek knowledge, young Tooth?" he taunted haughtily. "Knowledge is," he gestured with a wide sweep of his hand to each of you, "what brought you into this cult in the first place, no? What did she or one of her Memories share with you? That this cult was to some obscure god of knowledge? Or that we were some book-reading club who met every tenday?"
His ever radiating bony smile seemed to almost broaden even wider as he offered, "As a reward for assisting in the Undying King's schemes, I will truthfully answer the first question that comes out of one of your mouths." He added as an afterthought. "But no whispering and cheating! Whose thirst for knowledge is strongest amongst you?"
"What does it mean, 'my blood still continues, thousands of years later' and who was it that invaded my mind with those words?" Veldyn speaks up, taking this 'reward' for himself.
"So many questions, all to be summed into one. You say that you are a servant of an Undead King, and I found a text supposedly penned by one of the legendary names of such arts." Grishkar's inhibitions were burned to cinders by the enticement of what could come, "Where can I obtain power over Life, Death, and Undeath? I must know!"
He laughed loudly as he watched Grishkar and Veldyn perform their race of words. Turning to Veldyn, he simply said, "So. You are the one."
Lenore just holds her ground, watching and listening but keeping her mouth firmly shut.
Questions swirled through Natah's mind. She desperately wanted to know where her sister was, but each time she tried to ask, the words died on her lips. Quickly, she knew she had missed her opportunity, as others spoke their questions. She stood, frozen in terror, wondering what was next. Would they all be killed by this creature? Would they manage to escape. Blood pumped in her ears, making it difficult to concentrate on what was being said.
Rivvil is confused by this creature and what he thinks they are. He is also unsure of the name the weird skeleton mentions. But with the promise of the answering of any question his hormonal teenage mind takes over as he looks at Veldyn and his crotch light. But, he shakes his head and instead gets back into a defensive stance in-case this weird skeleton attempts to attack them.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he excused the Zhents. "Your role is finished. I would... advise against staying in this keep on either side of the planar portal for much longer."
"We should go," Veldyn says to the others. "I don't think this creature knows how to bluff."
He cackled. "Stay. I can't promise the Shadowfell's denizens will take kindly to the living though."
Grishkar seems desperate to stay and consume ounce of knowledge to be had, "Who is your Master? I must know!" He drew his grim, iron-bound, leather tome and shook it at the skeletal being, "This thing gave me a glimpse of true power, but it is a cup compared to the ocean that lies out of my reach."
Lenore casts an uncertain look at Veldyn but takes a couple of obedient steps backward. "C'mon, Sunshine," she mutters mostly under her breath, like she knows Grishkar wouldn't listen whether he could hear her or not.
Rivvil listens to Veldyn and begins to back up and head towards the portal but he doesn't turn his back on the skeletal creature.
The figure only glanced up with two of his heads as he eyed Grishkar's tome. "A likely fake, your book is then." His voice treated the word "book" as if it was a tart berry. Still, his eyes lingered on Grishkar, seeming to peer at something within him, before turning his back to the Zhents and moving into the darkness.
"What do you mean 'a fake'?" Grishkar's words seemed to be swallowed by the otherworldly gloom in the air. Defeated, he shambles out of the room, looking only slightly better than the duegar necromancer's pets.
Veldyn waits until everyone is out before he leaves himself.
As they exit the creepy room of doom, Lenore clears her throat before speaking, keeping her voice low. "Erenelor. That's th' name o' the high cloakmage in Neverwinter, isn't it? Sits on the Nevercourt? And ah... Well, court intrigue isn't really my thing. But if Mercer and Duergar are aligned with Luskan, yet this Erenelor is the one pulling their strings, then... Well, there's some dots trying to connect that make me a bit anxious. Is that thing back there going to make the Zhentarim's goals easier or tougher?"
Natah exited the doors quickly, and continued up the stairs, not wanting to be anywhere near it any longer. Once outside, she sat on the ground heavily, taking deep breaths.
"You're assuming she's with Mercer and the dooger rather than with the Fang sent here to research the door. Either way, we'll find the answers in Neverwinter," Veldyn says as he exits.
“Do we leave this portal open then or.....what?” Rivvil says looking to the others.
"I say we heed that creature's warning and get out," Veldyn responds. "Lets find a place to camp away from the fort."
Lenore bristles momentarily. "I ain't assuming nothing, fancy pants. Just putting the questions out there to be considered." She appears for a moment to be about to say much more. Then she glances around at where they are and bites back whatever else she was going to add. "But as ye say. I imagine there are better places to be before we set about answering them."
“Let’s. And remember we’re to get the son back to Hannock safely. What was his name again?” Rivvil asks having genuinely forgotten.
"Fallil," Rose piped up, keeping Chewie calm. He was whimpering in the corner. "Chewie didn't want to go in there, so we held back."
“Thanks Rose. Let’s make sure to get him back safely. But I’m ready to gather him up and start the trek back.” Rivvil says, tiredness clear in his eyes.
Lenore snorts. "Th' wolf's probably smarter than the rest of us put together." Without waiting for Veldyn's orders this time, she stumps back the way they came, toward the spiral stairs that will take them back into the keep to collect whoever needs collecting.
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
The Zhents retreated from the Netherese level of the keep, moving up the winding staircase to the upper courtyard where Fallil and Denver rested, having stuffed themselves with food and were sound asleep atop bundles of unburnt hay and blankets. Jackmon quickly moved and pried a full-face helmet off of one of the corpse's heads, placing it on his own in an attempt to keep his identity concealed from the sleeping duo. Veldyn approached the pair with a firm shake, jostling them awake with startled looks. "It's not safe here," Veldyn simply stated as he helped them to their feet. While confused, the gravity in his voice brought agreement from the two worn and fatigued veterans, who quickly packed up their things and left with the Zhents and Jackmon.
Heading deeper into the Neverwinter Wood, Rivvil's darkvision secured the group a safe place to rest, one that they hoped wouldn't be disturbed by another clan of elves. Rivvil eagerly showed the spot, nestled against a cliff on one side with a thick bundle of bush and low trees and the second and a small river on the third, leaving the fourth side open to come and go. Placing down his cot, he invited Fallil and Denver to set up their spots next to his, even going so far as to shoe away Grishkar from trying to lay claim to it. He smiled gently as he helped the two men get settled and fall back asleep, casting his vision to Veldyn, who only appeared distant and uninterested. Dismayed, Rivvil fell asleep closely to Fallil, trying to use his body for heat in the cold environment. Far in the background, Natah watched the proceedings with passive amusement, glancing around at their surroundings, listening to the birds flutter through the air and to small critters scurry across the ground.
It was a near-freezing night for the group without a fire as they shivered from the dropping temperature. When they awoke, Rivvil and Fallil were practically stuck together, with something only the two of them knew poking Fallil from Rivvil. Fallil smiled and blushed slightly as he awoke, glancing over to his older and huskier companion, Denver, who was still knocked out cold, deep in sleep. Natah was frigid, barely able to move in the cold, but hustled about with all of her might to get a fire started to warm them up.
With the fire started and the entire ensemble awake and geared, they warmed themselves by the fire, munching down what rations they had and what they had scavenged from the keep before setting out into the forest. While Rivvil's life might've been spent underground, he was oddly precise in his spatial awareness, able to guide the group back to the road quickly which connected Noltengarde and the keep. Spreading out in case of an ambush, they proceeded carefully down the road, passing the log house slaughter continuing southwest.
Only a few minutes passed after passing the old log house until they came across an unknown human corpse, fully geared as a veteran fighter, lying in the center of the road face-down in a pool of his own blood. Within his helm, Jackmon let out a sound of curiosity before exclaiming, "By the Gods, that's Mercer!"
Fallil and Denver cast curious looks to Jackmon before moving closer, examining the corpse. "Aye," Denver confirmed, "It's the bastard alright." He spit on his corpse, looking around. "I wonder what done 'im in."
"Be careful. If it was the duergar he might be a zombie." Rivvil says as he picks up a stone and chucks it at the corpse hoping that if it is a zombie it'll respond to the blunt force. Rivvil's rock clunks against the corpse's studded leather armor, bouncing off and provoking no reaction. Rivvil being very careful, is going to approach and attempt to flip the corpse over onto its back.
Veldyn joins Rivvil near the corpse, inspecting it closer. Flipping the corpse over, there was no sense or sign to indicate the corpse as a zombie. Rivvil observed the large, slashing marks across Mercer's chest and back, leaving a swathe of necrotic tissue with each gash. Veldyn focused on the silver longsword Mercer still grasped firmly in his hand, the cold having sealed he corpse's grip tight. The blade of the sword had several runes inscribed along both edges, their appearance similar to the runes found in the Netherese dungeon, which glowed faintly with ice-blue light as it rested against the cold ground.
"He won't be needing that any longer," Veldyn comments, breaking the corpse's grip from the sword and giving it a swing. The sword rung lightly as it cut through the air, the runes' shimmer intensifying in the cold air. Veldyn spotted a matching ornate scabbard strapped around Mercer's waist while he practiced a few techniques with his new blade. At the sight of the scabbard, Veldyn slices Mercer's belt and pulls the scabbard off. He then sheaths the blade and takes a moment to strap it to his own belt.
"I can attempt to check it for magical properties when we rest again but, lets see what else Mercer was holding on to." Rivvil says before he begins to loot whatever else is on the corpse.
Lenore watches Veldyn prancing around with the pretty new sword for a few moments. "Like it was made for ye," she finally remarks, without inflection. "Don't forget, ye'll owe the Zhentarim a percentage of its worth." Then she wanders closer to Mercer's body to have a closer gander at the necrotic-tainted gashes on it. "Just as an afterthought," Lenore remarks to Rivvil and Veldyn and whomever else is close enough to hear, as she idly looks over the gashes. "We made something of a deal with the eldarin, didn't we? To bring the Lord fella from Noltengarde to her for a visit? We planning to uphold our end of that deal now or later?"
"Eager to get back to the town that killed your friends and locked you in a chest?" Veldyn asks. "They're elves... they're patient. We have other matters to tend to."
Lenore straightens and eyes Veldyn for a long moment. "Ye're making assumptions again. About a whole lot a things."
"Perhaps..." Veldyn says, sticking his boot on the Mercer corpse's face. "Like how this one's small band managed to route a group of Fangs... with one survivor. How that survivor was captured, humiliated, and very nearly ended up being taken for interrogation only to end up another dwarf's undead slave. And now you return a failure to the Ardragon in Neverwinter. Is that what you fear, Lenore? Do you want our help to finish your mission and help the 'friends' you abandoned?" He locks eyes with Lenore. He felt she'd been quietly judging them all along, but it was time to be out with it. For someone that failed so terribly, she was quite cocky.
Lenore meets Veldyn’s gaze without blinking but narrows her eyes, like she’s actually considering her words before speaking, for once. “Every good commander knows that a mission failed on account of sending soldiers into a situation with inaccurate intelligence is no failure on account of the soldiers,” she finally replies. “The fact that we’ll be bringing the Zhentarim a better understanding of the actual situation in Noltengarde is as valuable as what my squad set out to do to begin with. Nor did I abandon anyone. I was ordered to get out and take word to Neverwinter if I could, an’ that’s what I’m doing. So nah, I’m no worried about the Ardragon’s reaction. And I am, of course, grateful for th’ rescue from that blasted chest, as well as for being allowed the opportunity for th’ chance to aid in setting that situation at least a bit a’right again. Yer assumption is that every time I end a string o’ words in a question mark, I’m somehow challenging yer decisions. Are ye truly the sort of leader, then, who prefers yer lackeys to simply carry out yer orders with no discussion? Because ye struck me at first as a smarter man than that.”
"Guys. I think I may have figured out how they escaped. They used the Underdark. The duergar must have known of a tunnel relatively close to the surface that they escaped down. The dust on these boots. It's a byproduct of some vines that only grow in the sunless Underdark. And the dust is recent. The necromancer might be near by." Rivvil says as he then begins looking in the immediate area for any purple colored footprints that look about dwarf sized.
"Every good commander..." Veldyn grins at that. "Your squad failed, and no matter how you make it right in your mind, you're abandoning what's left of them." Veldyn breaks contact with the dwarf at Rivvil's words and nods in his direction. "Can you track it?" He asks. Lenore heaves a heavy sigh, shakes her head, and casts one last look over Mercer's dead body. Then she walks back along the road to rejoin Natah where she waits with the others.
Rivvil begins immediately looking for tracks but he cannot have any. "Duergar. He probably knew of the dust those vines left and I think he wiped it all off of his boots before he left the cave. I'm sorry Veldyn I can't find him."
"No worries, Rivvil," Veldyn says, clasping him on the shoulder. "It's not our problem." He turns to Jackmon and asks, "Know of any tunnels?"
Jackmon froze. "In... my time... no," he said simply, very carefully observing a fallen log to the side of the road.
"Keep us going then, Rivvil," Veldyn gestures forward. Rivvil nods, believing Jackmon but recognizing why he's acting strange.
After the night of peace, Grishkar finds a secluded spot in the woods to perform a ritual over his claw army. Each give a small shudder as Grishkar's control is reinforced for another day. Before the party sets off from Mercer's corpse, Grishkar rifles through the body for a pair of gloves, then performs yet another profane ritual. The infamous now-corpse's hands tear free of their host and Grishkar fits them into a pair of fine gloves. "A pair of trophy hands such as you mustn't be sullied by everday wear and tear." He muses.
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During the cold night, Veldyn takes a seat close to Lenore during her watch. "Natah, Rose, Rivvil, even Grishkar are easy to read. Sometimes I feel like I know what they're going to do before they do it themselves. This makes us a good team, I think. It allows us to predict what the other is going to do or say when there's no time for instruction," Veldyn speaks next to Lenore, not directly looking at her but just allowing his words and his cold breath to linger in the air. "You talk about leadership and questioning decisions. I understand your meaning, but I don't claim leadership over this group. Often times I'm unsure if we'll even start moving until someone says something, so I do. I'll take charge of situations if I feel I can make the outcome beneficial... not just for me, but for the group and the Zhentarim."
Lenore keeps her eyes on her watch. She takes her job seriously. But she grunts acknowledgment and then chuckles. "Well, sir, what ye just described, I believe that's what they call 'leadership.'" She shrugs with one shoulder. "So, fer that matter, is hauling yer ass out on a cold night to have this out. I appreciate that."
After a second, she adds, "I ain't aiming to undermine yer leadership as such, mind. Wasn't my point at all."
"You're an unpredictable complication," Veldyn continues, "A member of the group that's only travelled with us for a handful of days. The circumstances of your arrival, as unfortunate as it is, leaves you to be trusted as much as Jackmon is. A little more because of your allegiance to the Zhentarim, but the same, you know? I'm not dismissing you when you suggest something, I'm trying to ferry out a deeper meaning for the suggestions. Why do you want to go to Noltengard? Are you using the promise to the elves as a way to get us there?"
He finally gives Lenore a glance, "Did you even care that your team is missing or dead, now that you've set your path on leaving them? Ordered to flee, sure... as you say... but I wasn't there to witness that. Will Lenore leave us to die when she knows she can save us? That's what I want to know."
Lenore tips her head and squints, like she's trying to decide which of Veldyn's concerns to address first. "Let's start with Noltengarde first," she finally says. "I wasn't suggesting we go to Noltengarde. I was pointing out that we cut a deal, because in all the huff and hurry we left in, it never came up. And I was asking if we were going t' make good on that deal now or later. Were just a simple question." A wry smile curls the corner of her mouth. "It's been pointed out to me in the past that I have a somewhat... abrasive manner about me. I suppose I can allow how it might cause ye to misunderstand."
"On multiple occasions we've mentioned avoiding the town," Veldyn states. "A few savages in the forest, as useful as they were, wouldn't have us stray from that decision. I'm a noble of Neverwinter," Veldyn shrugs, "It's bred in me that there's always deeper meanings to one's words." After saying this, he waits for her to continue.
Lenore snorts softly. "Well, sir, I can save ye some trouble on that. Ain't much of a buffer between my mind and my mouth. If I'm saying it, it's pretty much the unaltered version of what I'm thinking." She hesitates, and her voice drops a tad lower. "As to whether I care that my team's missing or dead? Aye, o' course I care. But caring and being able to do something about it, those aren't always the same thing. Tell me, Veldyn--ye ever been on a battlefield?"
"In a war, no," Veldyn admits. "But I've seen what becomes of those that can't handle it," he glances over to Jackmon as he says this, but then continues, "I imagine the horrors could twist ones mind, as each day more and more deserters are found. My place isn't the battlefield, and now... neither is yours."
Lenore glances sidelong at him before continuing. "On a battlefield, it doesn't matter how much ye care. Most times, ye can't save every life. So ye have to set your eye to what it is ye're set to accomplish by the battle being won. So that it can be won. So that the dying can stop. And aye, this battlefield we're on now, it's different. But the point remains, so I'll tell it to ye as honest as I do everything I say. Zhentarim is family. I'll fight my best to protect the individual members of that family. If I can save ye, I will."
She finally turns and meets Veldyn's gaze. "But if saving ye will cause the Zhentarim a bigger loss than th' cost o' yer lives? I'm sorry, sir, and I'll be sorry if it ever comes to that. But I'll have to choose whatever's best for the Zhent as a whole."
Veldyn nods a confirmation to that. The Zhentarim has taken center stage to his end-goals as well. "It was Mercer's men that confronted you at Noltengarde, was it not? Mercer lies dead, his fort taken by the gods-know-what," Veldyn says. "So why do you still believe going back to Neverwinter is the best course of action when you know we can turn this failure into a success?"
Lenore goes back to her watching. "You and yers have made it abundantly clear ye have no interest in going to Noltengarde. If I recollect correctly, that's what sparked this little conversation to begin with. An' me, alone? I'm a pawn, just a simple playing piece on the bigger board. Bricio, he were leading us. They sent a team to handle Noltengarde, and I'm no team. Not much point to going back there alone. Better to turn myself and the unfavorable outcome I'm returning with over to better minds than mine."
"I think you underestimate your value," Veldyn says. "The majority of Fangs end up dead in their first assignment. It was a statistic quoted to me by more than one person before I left Neverwinter. That makes you the minority that can survive and thrive in the Zhentarim. The reason we don't go back is because we've done our jobs. Risk vs. Reward. But the appeal of going beyond our duties to help you is there... you just don't offer a reason for us to do so."
Lenore does the squinty-eyed thinking thing for a few seconds. "Bet yer real good at the politicking thing, aye? Ye talk in circles well enough for it. But if, as we've been saying, our first duty is to the Zhentarim always, then if ye believed going to Noltengarde were the best thing, ye shouldn't need me to offer ye a reason to go. Certainly ye have no trouble making a decision, most times." She blinks and turns to look at Veldyn again, squinting even harder. "Unless ye're looking less for a reason and more for an excuse?"
"What I'm looking for," Veldyn says. "Is loyalty. Your team will likely take credit for this success if we save the surviving members. You're in a position to report the truth and we're in a position to help you. I'd rather make my pilgrimage sooner rather than later, wouldn't you? Join our team officially upon arrival in Neverwinter, we all put in a good report, and both of our missions will be successful." Veldyn gives her a shrug as he adds, "That means that if some of your team is alive, you betray them for us."
Lenore leans back and sits up straight, regarding Veldyn much less squintily. She snorts. "My loyalty is to th' Zhentarim. And I'm not just in a position to report the truth, I do report the truth. If you and yer team were to believe an attempt at handling the situation at Noltengarde would be in the Zhentarim's best interests and be willing to accompany me there, then aye. That's what we should do. If ye're not--as I've been led to believe to this point--then it'd be a fool's errand and waste of Zhentarim resources for me to attempt it alone, so I'll accompany ye to Neverwinter." She leans slightly forward, more earnest than angry. "In either case, I'll make my report. I suppose that means it's up to you what I'll be reporting."
"So you'll report the truth, but we part ways?" Veldyn asks for clarification. "They'll likely assign your remaining team more fodder for the next mission, but if you wish to rise slowly through their ranks, that's your decision." Veldyn sighs and stands, saying, "That's not good enough."
Lenore stands as well and pulls herself up to her full four feet of height. "With respect, neither you nor me get to say what's good enough. I report the truth, they decide where I'm assigned next. Could be they'll decide we're well suited for working together. Could be they'll find I'm more use elsewhere." She hesitates. "This ain't personal, Veldyn. It's the way it is."
Veldyn nods. "To Neverwinter then," he says with finality. "Have you ever known Lady Erenelor to be affiliated with the Zhentarim?" He asks as a side-note. "Typically she's called in to deal with the guilds that have gained too much influence."
"And we opened a portal for her," Veldyn adds.
Lenore nods in return, then shakes her head at his question. "Don't know much more than th' name. Still learning about the city, quite truly." She hesitates and then adds, "Another thing, though. I been trying to sort through it and figure out why it should be, but Mercer's body? He'd been dead a while, I think. Couldn't tell much about those gashes, but judging by the body I'd guess it's been a few days."
"There's demons below the earth in this area," Veldyn says. "Rivvil and my squire encountered one earlier. But I do know that Grishkar can't animate hands that have died too soon, so the corpse was still within his grasp. The timeline could still add up... have a safe watch, Lenore."
"Hrmm." Lenore absently starts to salute and then catches herself. "Aye." She snorts in semi-amusement. "Pleasant dreams, sir."
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
With Grishkar's "trophy hand's collected, the ragtag group of Zhents, Hannockians, a smuggler, and a deserter marshaled their way through the remainder of the Neverwinter Wood. The forest thinned out as they approached the wide expanse which Noltengarde sat in the middle of, arriving at the edge by mid-afternoon. Hugging the forest line, Rivvil guided the group along the border, keeping out of sight of any potential deserter scouts wandering the area.
They avoided the roads for the next two days of travel, sticking to the easier parts of the more rugged terrain in order to avoid detection. Grishkar explained the meaning of the runes on the blade. Within Draconic runes written along the fuller of the blade naming it The Brotherhood's Foe, in suspected reference to the Arcane Brotherhood in Luskan, the blade likewise bore runes along the edges of the blade. They seemed to almost thirst after magic, offering protection against magic in an expended form. Rivvil noted that the blade's edge itself had been created by arcane means, giving it a much sharper edge that wouldn't dull after extended usage. The blade itself was lighter too, cutting through the air with ease, and forged with alchemical silver.
Fallil and Rivvil maintained a flirtatious relationship during their travels, chatting away the day or playing cute tricks on each other. During the night, they were often seen talking beside the campfire, lost to the external world around them. To Rivvil's despair, the relationship didn't seem to faze Veldyn in the slightest, who only smiled, knowing Fallil to be some plaything for the half-drow.
The morning before the Zhentarim reached Hannock was the first day of snow's fall. Auril's breath had swept through the region with a cold rain that turned to snow during the night. The temperature bit at the Zhents, who were forced to bundle up into warmer clothing. Eager to get to the Lodge and warm themselves by the greasy fires within, they trekked forward, reaching Hannock in the afternoon.
Much had changed in Hannock during the week that they were gone. More fortifications had been placed along the wall, building up the portions of the wall which had crumbled or were in serious disrepair. Many of the trees closest to Hannock had been cut down, their wood needed to fortify the small town against other threats. It was almost as if Hannock had been privvy of the information the Zhentarim band had learned during their travels.
The large, oak gates were quickly opened as the day shift of guardsmen spotted the Zhentarim's apparel. Denver and Fallil let out frigid breaths of relief as they saw their hometown open before them. Rushing in, they were received with shouts of joy and relief, which is likewise reciprocated to the Zhentarim as they answered. Beneath his helm's visor, Jackmon looked at the proceedings with curiosity. The Zhentarim were practically treated as heroes to this small town and its townsfolk.
Veldyn puts on a smile as the villagers surround and thank the party, but he keeps his eyes out for the acting mayor. Close to Jackmon, he whispers, "Stay close and keep the helm on. Once we obtain the signed trade agreement, I'll see you back to Neverwinter."(edited)
Rivvil enjoys the positive attention and then begins to wonder what benefits being a town hero will bring him.
Natah moves to Fallil. "Come, we need to find your father and sssister, let them know you're sssafe."
While the Zhentarim company enjoyed the positive attention, an older woman rushed to Denver with tears in her eyes. Spotting her amongst the crowd, Denver rushed towards her as well. "Tilda!" he quickly exclaimed as they embraced. "You're alive," is all she could say amidst her tears and sobbing. A small girl clung to his legs, causing him to pick her up and put her on his shoulders. Reunited with his family, he left the scene and made way for his home in the town.
Jackmon grunted in response to Veldyn, sticking close to the Zhentarim in hopes of not sticking out too much. Even with the positive celebration, several women and men wept tears of loss as they learned from Fallil that their loved ones had died in the skirmish against the Zhentarim. A man on crutches approached Fallil with a weak smile, a man Lenore recognized from the prisons in Noltengarde as one of the captured Hannock militia. Him and Fallil quietly discussed amongst themselves within the crowd.
"Natah", Fallil said, gesturing for her to them. "Meet Campton. He was with my militia when we were captured, though sent to Noltengarde instead. He escaped!"
"Hello," Natah said, giving a slight bow of her head. "Very nice to meet you."
He nodded sheepishly with a smile. "A pleasure to meet ye, m'lady."
"Fallil," Natah said again. "We really ssshould find your father."
Rivvil looks to Veldyn before saying “I’ll help Natah escort Fallil to his father and get the contracts signed. You should make sure your squire is okay and get that one in a room somewhere.” Rivvil says with a smile before he walks up next to Fallil, keeping the same flirtatious smile and lingering touches with Fallil that’s he’s had the whole trip back.
Veldyn nods, allowing Natah and Rivvil to take point on the mission’s completion. He guides Jackmon towards the inn, gets some rooms, and meets with Godiva and their driver.
As Natah, Rivvil, and Fallil move away from Campton, Lenore hesitates a moment and then sidles up and clears her throat. "Good t' see ye made it out," she says, in a pretty awkward attempt to make pleasantries. She watches his face as she waits to see if he recognizes her.
He looked her over slowly, examining her face. Baffled, he asked, "Who are ye?"
Lenore heaves a resigned sigh. "I were at Noltengarde, too. One of the other prisoners." The word obviously pains her to speak it. After a second she continues, "Was with a halfling fellow, name of Bricio. Don't suppose ye have any knowledge of his current whereabouts?"
"'Alfling fella? Ye, I remember the bastard. Was a prisoner one day, then there was some commotion, somethin' about prisoners escaping, and then a few days la'er 'e was walkin' around with the bastard lion's crest like the rest o' them." He looked at you for a few moments before the candle lit in his mind. "Oi! Ye were one of the escapees, weren't ye?"
Several odd expressions flicker across Lenore's face over the course of a single heartbeat. "Huh," is her only remark. Then, "Aye, was." She makes a few more moments of awkward conversation with Campton, then extricates herself and goes to find a quiet tavern corner.
Lenore enters the one tavern in the small town and, while Veldyn is occupied with getting rooms and reuniting with his companions, takes a hefty mug to a back table and sits with her back to the room, where she will likely stay one way or another for at least the next hour.
Seeing Lenore enter and go straight to a table, waving for ale, Veldyn tells the owner to add her orders to his tab. He then proceeds to read the message that flew in for him.
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
Once Fallil finished conversing with Campton, he turned to Natah and Rivvil. "Yes, let's find my dad and sister." Following behind him, they only made it a few paces up the hill before Sir Toldine and Karine rounded the corner. "Fallil!" Karine cried out in her chipper tone, rushing through the fallen snow and embracing her brother. "I'm so glad you're alive."
Sir Toldine nodded his head, and Natah noticed just how weary the man appeared. Someone unforeseen stress or illness had slowly taken its toll on the aged man. Still, he smiled as he saw his son and daughter embrace. "I'm glad you're safe, Fallil." Looking to Natah and Rivvil, he added, "And thank you to your group." He looked up to the sky as light snow began to fall from the sky, going into a quick coughing fit. Once recovered, he said, "Let's go inside and discuss by a fire."
"Thisss sssoundsss like a wonderful idea," Natah agreed, near desperate to get warm again. "Pleassse, after you."
Karine smiled at Natah as she assisted her father and the rest of the group to their home. Nestled near the town's small center, they walked through the old, wooden door, greeted to a warm fire and the smell of fresh bread permeating the air. They sat around a small table situated near the fire. "I'll go get us some supper," Karine offered as she moved to the kitchen.
Natah sat politely, but internally was worried about the prospect of having to eat. She looked Sir Toldine over, waiting for him to speak first.
Rivvil sits down as well, close by Fallil. "Thank you for the food. Unfortunately, our ambassador Natah here has some dietary restraints so please do excuse her if she doesn't eat." he says aloud knowing that Natah normally eats with her mask on and that might upset the old man that already doesn't really like us.
"Oh!" Karine exclaimed with sorrow. "I hope you don't have the sugar death. Took my sweet auntie two years ago."
She walked back into the main room with a tray of warm bread and some crushed berry jam. "The jam might be a little tart since we ran out of sugar weeks ago, but I think it has a more *earthy* taste," she explained as she sat down at the table.
Fallil's eyes became a little misty at the sight as he smiled and let out a sigh. "I'm glad to be home."
"As are we," Sir Toldine responded, grabbing Fallil's hand with his own. Looking to Natah and Rivvil, he stated, "You've held up your end of the bargain, and it is only fair that I hold up mine. We will *accept* the Zhentarim's shipments of supplies and food in exchange for taxation in the years to come."
Natah smiled behind her mask, her eyes softening. "Thisss isss wonderful newsss."
Natah pulled a pack of papers from her bag. "Ssshall we make thisss official?"
"You're making the right choice. It'll help see your people through this food shortage. I know the Zhents may not have been the best to you in the past but, we're trying to help now." Rivvil says to the old man.
As Rivvil spoke with Sir Toldine, his eyesight began to take on a hazy appearance around his peripheral vision as reds and purples in his vision began to brighten and bolden.
Rivvil, with his eye sight changing, looks around, but attempting to do it subtly as to not alert the others, to see if he can identify the cause of this.
As he looked around, the faint aromas of brimstone and lilac wafted through his noise, and an all-too-familiar seductive voice filled his mind. "Seduce the son."
Rivvil just smiles. "Will do." he replies within his mind.
In response, he felt a caressing touch in his nether regions as the sight and smells continued to linger in his senses.
He nodded in response, taking the papers from Natah and looking them over while the five of them ate. Once finished, he nodded again silently, signing the documents with a quill and black ink. Grabbing one of the lit candles, he drizzled the wax on the parchment by his name and then stamped it with the insignia of Hannock. Once dried, he handed it back to Natah. "There you are. I expect the first shipment within the week," he stated with a hint of defeat in his voice.
Rivvil nods his heads, then turns to Fallil, grabbing him by the hand, "Let us celebrate this agreement and let me treat you. Come, drinks on me at the tavern." Rivvil says to Fallil with the same "love-sick" smile he's kept up around him the entire trip.
Natah takes the papers, folding them carefully, and placing them neatly inside her pack once again. "Yesss, you will have a caravan sssoon." She glanced at Rivvil quickly, wishing he would remain more calm than he was at the moment. "Pleassse, let me know if there isss anything elssse you require," she directed at Sir Toldine.
Karine looked to her dad, who simply nodded. With a wide smile, she beamed. "I'll bring a friend too!" Fallil returned the "love-sick" smile, saying, "Sounds good to me, Rivvil."
"If there is more we need, I'll let the first caravan know." he responded in kind.
As they left, Fallil and Rivvil giving each other eyes, and Karine bouncing off to find her friend, Natah lagged behind, releasing a sad sigh.
Rivvil hearing the sigh quickly glances in Natah’s direction to figure out what’s wrong with her. (Insight: 8) *She must be sad that I’m getting some tonight. I’ll help her. Hmmm....she has scales like a snake so I guess her people mate with snakes. I’ll get her one. She’ll be so happy to have something like that for late at night*
As they’re walking Rivvil will turn and whisper into Fallil’s ear “Natah’s looking a little down. Do you know where I can find a snake? They’re here favorite animal and it’ll really cheer her up.”
He chuckled. "You know what? I do know of one. One of the widow's sons has a snake he found in the summer, and I think he still keeps it in his room."
Rivvil smiles and whispers back to him “Perfect. If you can get it for me just for the night I would really appreciate it. And then, I’ll take care of your snake.”
He looked at Rivvil curiously before the meaning dawned on him. With a blush, he laughed out of nervousness or excitement. "Yeah! I'll grab his snake and then you can grab mine," he whispered back.
"I need to get something," he said more loudly. "I'll meet you two at the Lodge." With that said, he departed from Rivvil and Natah and headed south.
Rivvil and Natah strolled into the Lodge, greeted by the warmth of several greasy fires and a scattered numbers of patrons who raised their cups to the duo as they walked in. Lenore sat against the far wall, leaning into her chair as she contemplated something deep. Veldyn clasped a small note in his hand as he read it over with a furrowed brow. Natah immediately speaks to the bartender, then retreats to her room. Rivvil follows and notes what room is Natah’s before getting his room key from Veldyn and asking the bartender for a bottle of the good stuff from the last time he was here. Once settled in a bit, Fallil walked into the Lodge with a basket in his hand. Quickly moving over to Rivvil, he smiled as he pushed the basket into his lap. "Here's what you requested. One of two you'll get tonight," he said with a wink.
The bartender chuckled, "It's good stuff ain't it? For the full bottle? There's about 10 gold pieces left in there."
“I’ll take the whole bottle.” Rivvil says sliding the barkeep a platinum piece. Bottle and key in hand he looks over to Fallil, “Take this up to the room and get ready. You’re getting the full hero treatment tonight.” He says as he hands Fallil the bottle and key and takes the basket. Fallil smiled and went up the wrong flight of stairs to the opposite side of rooms. Rivvil let’s out a chuckle and follows behind him. Once finding him he leans over and whispers in his ear “Wrong flight of stairs. Try again big boy.” Karine and Merissa walked into the Lodge moments later, looking around at the slowly gathering crowd. Once they spotted Veldyn, they quickly made their way over to him and sat down at his table.
"Doh!" he exclaimed sheepishly. Seeing his sister and Merissa, he smiled faintly before quickly moving across the common area to the opposite flight of stairs and begun trying to the locks with the key to find Rivvil's room. Rivvil chuckles and then makes his way to Natah’s room and knocks on the door.
"Who isss it?" Natah's voice calls out.
“It’s Rivvil. Open up I have a surprise for you.” He says with a smile on his face.
Natah sighed again, she looked at her mask and contacts, sitting on the table next to the bed. Tired, she didn't want to take the time to cover up again. Walking to the door, she unlocked it, and stood behind. "Come in," she said. "Ssshut the door behind you."
Rivvil comes in with a basket in hand and a smile on his face. “I got a surprise for you. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
Making sure the door is closed, Natah moves away from the door. She watches Rivvil and eyes the basket. Her golden eyes move from the basket to his face. "What isss it?"
Rivvil slowly open the baskets and says “Come out little guy. She won’t hurt you.”
Natah peered into the basket. "What'sss thisss?"
“It’s a partner for you for the night. I saw the way you were looking at me and Fallil and I realized you were lonely. And you look like a snake so your people must have a thing for snakes so I got you a snake for the night.” Rivvil says.
"What?" Natah looked into the basket again, and shock set in. "What?" she asked again, looking at Rivvil. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything else, then reality set in. "Isss... isss thisss a sssick joke?" Her eyes began to fill with tears. "Isss thisss what you think of me?"
Rivvil looks confused. “What do you mean a joke? Is...is this not what your people do?”
"No!" Natah shouted. "Why... do you think of me asss an animal?"
“No. I...I just thought this would be a nice gesture. Is...is this wrong?” Rivvil asks.
"Would you... mate with Chewy?" Natah hissed.
Rivvil thinks about it and then shrugs. “Maybe. If my Lord commanded it then yes.”
Tears streaming down her face, Natah sat on the bed. "I never ssshould have told the truth about who... what I am. I don't mate with animalsss." The adder slowly slithered out of the basket, flicking its tongue in the air, tasting the scents.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. What would you like next time?” Rivvil asks.
"I don't want anything," Natah said, then slumped a little. "Okay, that'sss not entirely true. There isss... sssomeone. But he... barely ever looked at me."
“Who?” Rivvil asks.
"Hisss... hisss name is Hamak," Natah said, a dreamy look crossing her face. "But he'sss back in Neverwinter."
“I’ll make up for this. I’ll get Hamak to go out with you, okay?” Rivvil responds.
"No!" Natah yelled again, jumping up to grasp Rivvil by the arms, careful to avoid crushing the little snake. "You must never tell anyone!"
“Okay. Okay. I won’t. Geez. I was trying to make up for this. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Are we okay now?” Rivvil asks.
"I appreciate the gesssture," Natah said, releasing him. She held a hand out for the little snake. "Hamak can never know how I feel. I would be put to death if it wasss dissscovered." She rubbed the snake on the top of the head, still looking sad. "Yesss... we're okay now. You can go."
“Okay. Have fun.” Rivvil says leaving Natah alone and then heading to his own room.
Natah frowned sadly at the door after Rivvil quickly fled her room. Picking up the adder, she gave it a soft rub on the top of the head. "Hello there."
A dwarf with a canoe on his back? What could go wrong?
Lenore lets everything go on around her without much notice as she concentrates on what she's doing. She has her back to the room, but at one point there's a short sword lying on the table and then there's not. After spending an hour alternately muttering in dwarven and taking slugs of ales, eventually she finishes up and carefully places the new item she's wrought into her pack. Then she scoots her chair around a nudge so she can take in what's going on in the rest of the room while she finishes her current drink.
As the Zhentarim began to gather together once again, the Lodge quickly filled with patrons as word spread that the Zhentarim were offering drinks on the house once more. Discouraged to discuss their findings in such a crowd, they chose to mingle with the crowd as loud music was played by the corner bard. Veldyn retreated to his room for the night with Karine and Merissa in tow, wearing a very large smile as his mind played out the events that would unfold with the two damsels. One by one, the rest of the Zhentarim returned to their rooms in the Lodge, eventually able to fall asleep once the barkeep kicked out those too drunk to leave on their own. While the night was cold, the heat from those who had company helped stave off the worst of it as those without company were forced to bundle up in their blankets for a more proper warmth. Soon the morning's light shone through the building's wooden walls, indicated that it was time to arise and set out for Neverwinter. Godiva sat downstairs, her feet bouncing up and down as she held a large mug of some drink, as the first of the group arose and moved down the creaking wooden stairs towards the common room. Rivvil comes down late in the morning after some last minute special goodbye with Fallil. He makes sure to give Fallil his address within Neverwinter in case he's ever in the city. Natah sat silently at a table by herself, deep in thought.
Godiva waved at Rivvil and giggled as he said goodbye to Fallil, taking a large drink of some black concoction within her mug. "Hey! Hey! Look what I have!" She tipped her mug slightly, revealing a steaming mug of black coffee.
"That looks good, where did you get that from?" Rivvil asks her.
She simply pointed to the bar where six more drinks were arrayed. A note was left there too, reading: "Zhentarim, Please visit the chapel before you go for a proper farewell. - Sir Toldine"
Chewie sits by the fireplace, looking forlorn. Rivvil takes a mug and at seeing the sad puppy whistles to get its attention and attempts to get Chewie to come sit with him. Chewie pads over and licks Rivvil’s hand. He'll pet the puppy and say to it "Where's Rosie? I thought you'd be with her?" Chewie whines. "Hmmm.....I hope she's okay. I didn't really see her last night but my hands were kind of full." Rivvil says to the puppy. Chewie growls. "I wish I knew what you meant by that." Rivvil chuckles at the puppy.
Veldyn comes down looking refreshed and ready to set out. Upon seeing Godiva and the note, he takes a mug of coffee for himself and sits down next to his squire. After a few moments of hushed discussion, Veldyn slides a long sword her way. Godiva beamed as her eyes quickly flickered back and forth between Veldyn and the longsword. Once slid her way, she opened the sheath and inspected the edge of the blade for imperfections. Satisfied, she nodded to Veldyn in appreciation before setting her new longsword beside her.
Lenore stumps down the stairs and gets around to helping herself to a mug, as well. Then she parks herself and looks the room over, taking note of who is and who isn't there, as she drinks her coffee. Apparently, dwarven custom calls for much loud blowing on hot beverages to cool them before them slurping loud sips. Chewie nips Rivvil on the arm. Natah, still sitting alone, is hunched over the table, distracted by something she's covering with her hands. She seems to not notice anyone else in the room.
Rivvil picks the puppy up and puts him in his lap. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” He tells the dog while scratching it behind the ears. Chewie struggles to get out of Rivvil's lap and back to the floor. Rivvil puts him down on the floor then sighs. “Did any of you happen to see Rosie last night?” Chewie runs to the door and barks.
"Ain't seen Rose nor Sunshine since yesterday." Lenore pauses for a slurp of coffee. "Hope his hands didn't run off with 'em."
“Guys. I think something might have happened to Rosie. I’m going with the dog to find her.” Rivvil says standing up and opening the door for Chewie to lead the way in the search of the little gnome. Natah is distracted enough she won't notice anyone talking. Chewie barks loudly. “Find her boy. Find her before she gets stuck in a well.” Rivvil tells the puppy once they are outside. Chewie growls at the well comment. Some undermined amount of time later Rivvil busts back into the tavern Chewie on his heels. He'll for Natah and upon finding her says "Come with me. Rosie got herself trapped and we need you to get her out."
“She didn’t get trapped in a well, did she!?” Godiva goes pale as she thinks about the last creature that crawled out of a well.
Natah looked at him and silently nodded. She picked up the little snake and wrapped it around her neck, tucking it under her mask. She followed, not saying anything.
"Not a well, but a cellar maybe. Anyway, lets go." Rivvil says as he begins to lead Natah and whoever else wants to come to rescue Rosie.
Grishkar strolls down to where the others are gathered, a feigned surprise overtaking him, "Oh. Off so soon?" Natah says nothing, keeping her head down, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Veldyn nods to Godiva and she rushes out to find Rose with the others. Veldyn pulls a few small bits of parchment and begins writing a couple more messages for Neverwinter. Rushing off to find their lost friend, Chewie and Rivvil guide the group to the backside of Sir Toldine's house. Once there, they see two guards conversing with Sir Toldine himself about fifteen feet from a trapdoor built next to the side of the house.
Worried, Natah stepped forward. "Sssir Toldine, what'sss happened?" Rivvil does a face palm as Natah does this.
He whipped around, looking at the group suspiciously. "Someone broke into my cellar." Seeing Rivvil's facepalm, he added, "What do you know about it? And why are you all here and not at the chapel?"
"We were heading there when we sssaw you," Natah replied.
"Saw me?" he inquired. "I've been inside my house all morning."
"Jussst now."
"I don't know anything. I told her not to bother you. Come, lets go to the temple Sir Toldin. Tell me about this problem. Natah, I think Chewie has to go pee. Take him some place appropriate to pee." Rivvil says attempting to distract Toldin.
He looked at the Zhents and then back to the guards, who stood idle and silent behind him. He glanced down at Rivvil's shoes, then back to some of the tracks near the trapdoor. "Take off your shoes," he ordered.
"Why? I'd rather not get my socks wet. Have you ever had wet socks, its the worst." Rivvil says.
"You'll take your shoes off or I'll order my guards to arrest you," he stated. Turning to the guards, he said, "I think this one broke into my cellar."
"I haven't broken into anything. I was with your son all night and morning until now. If you don't believe me ask him yourself." Rivvil tells the old man.
He glanced around. "Any where is my son?" he asked. "I haven't seen him since last night."
The guards step forward a few feet, their hands on their blade's handles, and he recognized them as the ones he tried to seduce the first night. "Don't make this harder on us, Rivvil," one of them responded.
"Sssir Toldin," Natah said, interjecting herself. "Pleassse allow me to handle thisss. We've all been together at the tavern, celebrating. Your ssson will be along sssoon. He had a bit too much to drink lassst night." She pointed toward the building. "Allow my assssociates and myssself to handle thisss intruder for you. We've made promisssesss to you, and I'm eager to prove how ssseriousss we are about protecting this town, and yourssself."
The guards glanced back to Toldine, awaiting his instruction. He replied, "I already checked the cellar and no one was down there. Tell your Zhentarim comrade to give me his boots and then we'll proceed from there." Natah looks at Rivvil.
"Really. Can I at least take them off in your house so I don't get me feet wet?" Rivvil asks.
"No. You'll do it here, and you'll do it now, or my guards will do it for you and then arrest you." he responded, nodding his head to the guards who continued to move forward.
Natah held up her hands between them. "Gentlemen, pleassse. What isss it you wisssh to know about Rivvil'sss bootsss?"
"You're stalling," he declared. "Arrest that man," he ordered the guards, pointing at Rivvil. The two guards, almost desparingly, grabbed Rivvil by the wrists. While one put him into shackles, the other began unstrapping one of the boots from Rivvil's foot.
"Gentlemen," Natah said, her voice growing angry. "You will ssstop." She reached into her pack and pulled out the paperwork. Holding it before her chest, she said, "You know what thessse are, Sssir Toldin. I sssuggessst you think hard on your next move."
Toldine looked angrily at Natah as she held the papers out. Her tone carried authority, even causing the guards to pause as Rivvil was halfway shackled. The one upstrapping his boots looked at the papers, and then to Toldine. "What are those?" he asked openly.
"You can explain to your men, Sssir Toldin," Natah hissed. "Explain how you sssigned thessse papersss and what they mean."
They glanced to Toldine who was practically fuming. He spat on the ground and turned to walk away. "Release the whore," is all he ordered as he started to cough from the cold air.
"I sssuggessst you go inssside, Sssir Toldin." Natah continued. "You don't sssound well, and we wouldn't want you to catch your death of cold."
His breath only rose in silence as he trekked through the snow, turning the bend of the house and disappearing. The guards looked at each other confused, but followed orders, releasing Rivvil.
Natah glared daggers at the guards. "Move on," she commanded. They nodded, knowing they were outmatched, and headed towards the town's square.
Rivvil, opens his mouth to say something but then decides against it. He'll look to the guards "I'm sorry this had to happen. I would move on and stay away from me for now. He's angry I beded his son last night."
"You need to learn to ssshut up," Natah said angrily to Rivvil. "Let'sss get Rosie out of there."
"I'm not shamed of what I do. Also, if you hadn't talked to him and paid attention to what I said you would know who is down there and would have just let me take him to the temple while you let Chewie pee." Rivvil counters back.
"When I speak, you will never contradict what I say, again, do you understand me?" Natah turned her glare toward Rivvil. "Now shut the **** up, and let's get the stupid little gnome."
Rivvil glares back. Not responding just thinking of a certain man back in Neverwinter. As soon as the guards leave, Chewie immediately moves for the lock and starts pawing at it. Natah pulls at the door, finding it locked. She pulled out her thieves tools and spent a few moments fiddling with the lock, but found she couldn't open it. Frustrated, she growled, "Any other brilliant ideasss?"
“Let me try.” Rivvil says holding his hands out for her lockpicks. She hands them over, still glaring. “I’d like to point out that the stupid little gnome had no problems picking that lock,” Rosie’s muffled voice came from below.
"Then you won't mind if we leave you here to rot," Natah hissed back. "What the **** were you thinking?"
A dwarf with a canoe on his back? What could go wrong?
Rivvils takes Natah’s lock picks and attempts to pick the lock.
Rivvil's dextrous hands worked nimbly and quickly, picking the lock in just a matter of seconds. Natah's previous effort *obviously* made it easier for him. Opening the door, he revealed a lone, little gnome named Rose, sitting at the top of the wooden stairs. (22 on lockpicking)
"What were you thinking," Natah asked again, immediately upon seeing Rose.
“It’s all in the wrist.” Rivvil says with a wink as he hands Natah her lockpicks back.
Natah snatched them back with an angry hiss.
Chewie practically barreled into Rose before she could respond, licking her face viciously before continuing down the stairs into the cellar.
“What a happy reunion. Let’s go before Toldin finds us. He already wants to lock me up for showing his son a good night.” Rivvil says ready to go now that the gnome is free.
"No," Natah said, blocking the exit. "You're going to explain yourself, *right now*."
“I was thinking I wasn’t going to get locked in a cellar.” Rose answers
"Why did you come in here?" Natah pressed.
“Chewie smelled gold.” Rose responded
Natah narrowed her eyes. "You didn't come in here for gold. What did you find?"
“No, that is one hundred percent what I came in here for,” Rose pulled a small handful of gold out of her bag. “Chewie can track gold and food. We’re still working on people.”
"I told you to shut up," Natah said, pointing a finger at Rivvil. Turning back to Rose, she continued. "I talked you out of this cellar, you could be honessst with me."
Chewie returned from the darkness of the cellar with a gold piece in its mouth. He dropped it on the base of the stairs before disappearing again.
"Isss there more?" Natah hissed.
“There’s almost a thousand down here, but I only nabbed 50,” Rose replied patiently. “Natah, I have never lied to you, and I’m not starting now.”
"Ssso," Natah said, still quite angry. "Our dear friend Sssir Toldine is sssitting on money that could help hisss people." Natah descended the stairs, looking for this stash of gold.
“And a shitty romance novel.” Rose added
Chewie's tail wagged excitedly as he stood on his hind legs, sniffing into a wooden barrel.
Natah pauses, holding a hand out. "Book pleassse."
Rivvils eyes light up at the mention of a shitty romance novel. "How shitty is the novel? How smutty?" he asks Rosie.
“It’s not a novel yet, it’s in progress,” Rose pointed at the loose pages of parchment on the desk. “It’s not code or anything, I checked.”
Natah gathered up the papers and stashed them in her pack.
"Oh. I don't like unfinished works. Anyways, can we leave? Or you know, keep standing at a crime scene in broad daylight." Rivvil says.
“I was going to try and leave it not looking as if the place had been looted,” Rose grumbled.
"It doesn't matter now," Natah said coolly.
“Riv, Chewie is super pissed at you,” Rose said. “You’ve got to learn how to listen better.”
"I don't speak dog, sorry." Rivvil says with a smile.
"Take the gold," Natah said, her voice monotone. "We own thisss town now. If he won't help hisss people, sssomeone elssse can do it."
"The town will be fine. The old man will die soon and then Fallil will take over. He'll gladly do what I ask and keep the town alive." Rivvil says.
"Then maybe," Natah said, leveling a cold gaze at Rivvil. "We ssshould ssspeed up the processs."
“Look, are we going to take over the town, or are we going to just piss off another lord?” Rosie asked. “I’m fine either way, I just need to know which plan I’m using. I’m happy to collect another wanted poster, but if we’re going the other way we’re going to need to be a tad smarter”
"I mean. The town already loves us. Lets just let nature runs its course. Unless, your new snake friend has given you some slow-acting venom you can use." Rivvil says.
"Do whatever you wisssh," Natah said, heading back up the stairs. "Take the barrel, it'sss oursss now." Exiting the cellar, she disappeared.
“A town liking us isn’t enough,” Rose growled. “Natah, slow the **** down. What do you know hat you’re not telling me? This street goes both ways you know.”
"She's gone. Let's just go. We were suppose to meet the old man in the temple but who knows if thats still happening. Lets go get the others and leave before we get wrapped up in something else." Rivvil says to Rosie.
While Lenore is helping to prepare their departure, she takes a moment to approach Grishkar. From her pack she produces a pair of half-gauntlets, which are shorter than average gauntlets since they have no section to protect a forearm. Instead, the open end stops closer to the wrist area and features a pair of clasps to hold them shut once the hands they're protecting are inside. "These are fer Mercer," she says as she presents the half-gauntlets to Grishkar. "Figure he deserves something special, aye?"
With an unusually *natural* smile, Grishkar accepts the guantlets as the black-gloved hands emerge, "Stop that now or I may genuinely cry."
Lenore opens her mouth, gets a look at Grishkar's unusually *natural* smile and hesitates, then finally adds, "Uh huh. I should add that if ye ever try t' use those hands against *me,* those gauntlets'll self-destruct."
His face goes blank before Grishkar ponders a moment, "I could kill two birds with one stone if you were in combat..."
Lenore chuckles quietly. "Ah, ye don't disappoint, Sunshine. Self-destruct as in 'poof,' implosion that'll take out the gauntlets and th' hands. And leave ye with a truly pissed-off dwarf." Lenore gives Grishkar a hearty and not entirely un-friendly slap on the shoulder. "I think we'd be better off watchin' each other's backs instead of figuring out how t' off each other." Lenore moves off to continue preparing the cart to depart, leaving Grishkar with his gift.