"Oh I wonder if any o' us'll be gettin' any shut-eye tonight," Chrys grumps. "If any o' you elves e'er wonder why dwarves don't like the forests much, well, this here is a real good reason," she says as she pitches the tent. Stepping back and studying it, she enlists Krackle and Lumen to aid her in trying to disguise the fabric, so that it won't shine like a beacon out into the darkness and inform any aerial visitors of their campsite.
Once they're done, she claps her hands together. "Krackle 'n me can take second watch. We can both see jus' fine in the dark, and I got too much paranoia in me now ta sleep the whole night through anyhow." She crosses her arms and looks at the sky. "Ya think this dragon is part o' the problem? I ain't never heard o' dragons workin' with orcs. Or anybody, really. Thought they were always loners. What a wrinkle, eh? Maybe we shoulda asked Braida about dragons, too."
"More likely, the orcs may be working for the dragon; such a terrible creature tends not to be bound to anyone unless by its own choice if the stories are to be believed," Kess noted as she shared a concerned look with Chrys. "We've all heard tales of them, I am sure; ruthless and cruel intelligences, living engines of war clad in scales harder than steel and able to fly like the wind. That, and baring claws and teeth mighty enough to break the very walls of even the mightiest of cities, able to breathe any different brand of death depending on the species. I certainly join you in hoping that the beast is not out on the hunt tonight."
Setting up your little campsite amidst the standing stones, which definitely offer some level of concealment to a quick stray eye, you set about with your evening activities of eating dinner and tending to your gear underneath the dim twilight, the tall rocks silhouetted agains the clear, darkening sky. You haven't seen very many trees since leaving the lake, except for that willow in the lake, and a few, stands of black spruce, but you're pretty sure that eventually, you will break out of the swamp and emerge back into the trees.
It's pretty quiet out here during the nighttime in this wilderness. Not eerily quiet as it was around the lake; you do hear the faint sounds of crickets and frogs, but nonetheless, you know that there are probably plenty of creatures out there in the swamp, away from the relative and comfortable safety of this little mound that you'd rather not encounter during the night. That realization makes you realize just how lucky you are to have found such a good campsite, seemingly in the middle of nowhere... lucky to find Nym, who told you about it... Lucky for Nym that the rest of you stumbled on Braida's lake and that she was able to hear you and call out for help. It's another reminder of the serendipitous nature of the world and of the mystery of how its wheels are turned by the gods in the most unusual ways.
Kess sets about taking first watch. Finding a suitable vantage point, she sits and surveys the quiet swamp with her keen elven eyes. Begin two days after the new moon, Selûne is just reappearing as a bright silvery sliver in the dark sky, with her tears following just behind. Fortunately, she doesn't see anything that causes her alarm in her four hours.
Nym joins her for the second watch until Kess retires to take her own trance. Nym's superior darkvision gives her an even greater view out into the dim, black wetland. At one point, she sees the outline of what appears to be some kind of humanoid creature moving slowly across the swamp about 250 feet away. It staggers slowly, moving from right to left across her field of view, before disappearing once again into the night, never coming even remotely close to your campsite.
Allowing Chrys and Krackle to get their necessary 8 hours of rest, Nym wakes them up (and Lumen, if he wishes) and sits with them for the rest of the night, through the chilly early morning hours, until the darkness fades from he horizon and the sun begins to glow just below the horizon with the dawning of another day, which, for those keeping track of time, is Eleasis 18, or the 231's day of the year, which means there is just over one month left of summer.
Also...after a nice, long rest, you begin the day feeling rejuvenated and ready for whatever lies ahead.
Reflecting on everything you've experienced up until this point since setting out so many weeks ago, all the battles, interactions, travels and tricky situations you've navigated, you think about all the time you've dedicated to your training, your search for knowledge, and your relentless drive to improve your skills as adventurers. As the morning dawns, you begin to feel that it's all starting to pay off.
Nym's eyes lit up in pleased affirmation at her fellow elf's knowledge of Undercommon. But now wasn't a time for idle chit chat. Nodding in agreement to taking second watch, the woman waited for others to settle in before choosing a smoother rock to lean against. Not knowing as much about dragons as the others, the drow stays silent on the matter. She's quiet as the group breaks bread, though mostly from pure exhaustion as opposed to being tight lipped. It wasn't until the others began to lay down that she finally began to also try and relax, shucking off her armor awkwardly to be in just her plain robes, stretching with a wince. It was hard to relax enough to begin her reverie around strangers. But eventually the familiar sounds of crickets and her usual pose helped ease her into trancing.
When she next opens her dusky eyes, Nym feels more like herself than she had in days. The first sight to greet her was her goddess' namesake shining its radiant light down on their campsite, the stars glittering brightly in the night sky to her keen eyes. The second sight was of Kessdarra keeping vigilant eye out on her watch still. Slowly and quietly getting up and re arming and armoring herself, the drow approached her with a friendly nod of greeting. Taking over the watch, her thoughts inevitably drifted to her new companions.
What would have happened if they hadn't investigated Braida's section of the lakeside? Would she still be held captive? Or dead and gone by now? It wasn't worth considering. But it was worth offering thanks. To them as well as Selûne for guiding them and her to this fortuitous outcome. Did the Moonmaiden put her in their path for a reason? Or vice versa?
Nym murmured under her breath a prayer to the Dark Maiden, speaking as though to a maternal figure catching up on missed time. Basking in the night's light as she prayed and kept her eyes honed to any movement and long ears pricked to any unusual sounds. When she caught sight of the humanoid figure, the cleric froze, close to rousing the nearest person. But the figure never got close enough to be more of a concern, merely unsettling. Nym shivered under her cloak at the thought of the hag that had imprisoned her for three days continuing to stalk them.
When she could finally see the glow of the sun begin to stain the black of the sky blue on the horizon, Nym debated briefly how to wake them before settling on resting a hand on Krackle's arm for a moment before letting the contact rouse him. With a whispered greeting, she did the same for the others in turn, Lumen, Chrysoberyl, Vesper and finally Kessdarra. As the party roused and got up, Nym took time to tell them of what she had seen during her watch.
Krackle listens with to Nym with minor concern as she describes what she saw during her watch. Once again, the little kobold reiterates how much he dislikes this swamp and how much he wishes to depart and leave it behind.
"I'm a druid... I should like all nature, but this place frightens me... it just feels... unnatural somehow... evil. We've only been here a few days, but so far, this place has been nothing but creepy things that try to hurt and kill us."
He then switches topics. "Nym, what is it like to live underground? Most kobolds live underground, but I have always lived up here on the surface. I was still in my egg when I was brought to the surface, and my sister rescued me from a mean shopkeeper who thought he bought a real dragon egg. What is it like to always live in the dark and never see things like green grass and trees and feel the rain? Is it dangerous down there? Have you ever seen any kobolds where you live?"
Getting some of her provisions (only mildly stale from their three days in her pack), Nym offers Krackle some amber lichen and softrock bread. "If it's any comfort, you aren't the only one to feel that way. Like I'd said before, the whole reason I'd explored this far was because my other druid friend had that same feeling and wanted to know the cause. I don't think your friends want you here longer than you have to be. I'm sure they'll get you to safety soon." Thinking of the grove they had mentioned before.
Eyes flicking to a particularly fat toad as it hopped towards the pond, the drow pauses mid munch at the first question. She feels a small pang and huffs a chuckle under her breath as she swallows. "You certainly don't ask only easy questions, do you? Hmm..." Her neck cranes upward to what little of the foggy sky she could see, long silver hair spilling around her.
"Well. It's very dark. I used to live in the Underdark when I was young. Much much deeper underground than the Upperdark. The only light there is from glowing fungus or mushrooms. And there's a lot of them. Entire caverns and forests of them. Instead of trees or....grass?"She asks briefly for confirmation, plucking a blade of said plant from beside her, turning it over before continuing, "Fire or candles are only extremely rarely and briefly used. Even then it's usually for other's benefit. The smoke, you know? Has nowhere to go. Dangerous. Plus there's not any wood to burn and only a limited supply of oil. We cook using lava or steam vents when accessible. Usually towns and cities are built around them for the luxury. But those that are poorer simply do without and prepare food that doesn't need heat to prepare. Mushrooms, lichen and tubers are a staple in everything. It is dangerous. The deeper you go the more things want to kill or eat you. Or sacrifice you."
Throwing the blade of grass and watching it twirl to the ground, Nym states with troubled expression, "I had seen Kobolds in the Underdark but not spoken with any. And in the Upperdark they kept their distance. Didn't much like Drow, which I certainly don't blame them for."
She changes the subject, trying not to dwell on the situation of when she had last seen a Kobold in the Underdark. "That shopkeep must have been an idiot as well as mean to think that a Kobold egg was a dragon's. I'm glad your sister rescued you from him."
"The surface is...definitely taking getting used to but..." A radiant smile creeps across her face as she admits, "I wouldn't trade it for anything. 'Day' and 'night' and 'weather' and 'seasons'?! It's all a bit much. Everything's always the same underground. But up here everything's new and changing. It's exciting, if confusing."
"Mmm... good morning, everyone," Kess would say as she let out a little yawn, tossing her hair from out of her face; for her reverie, she'd elected to curl up into her bedroll and blanket, grateful for the warmth. Next to her head, a partially-open book rests on the ground that she gently brushes off and packs away as she sits up and brushes her long locks out of her face. "How did all of you rest? Things felt... restorative, at least for me. I was reviewing some of the lessons of my youth during my watch last night."
Chrys fell into a fitful sleep that night, haunted by dreams of a black dragon razing the land.
At first she dreamed of Twilight Tor being raised to the ground; she could feel the heat spreading up her chin and across her face as she stood there, powerless to stop the dragon's rampage. Through the flames, she saw Frida Crabapple, the corrupted constaple of Melton, surging out, leading a pack of war-painted Red Claw orcs. The horde surged through the fires, cutting down the screaming forms of her friends. She saw flashes of silver and red scale, skin both dark and light, cries both masculine and feminine. The smell of burned flesh and the copper tang of blood flooded the air, but she couldn't move; couldn't help any of her friends or protect them from the onslaught.
As the flames died down, leaving only smoke and ashes, Chrys stood and looked at the charred remains of her life. Something was stirring in her; a deep-rooted anger, that she should have been able to prevent it all. As her all-too-familiar temper flared once again, a powerful voice boomed behind her.
Could you set right that which has gone wrong?
"I want to,"Chrys swore, feeling her hands tighten around the grip of her hammer.
Would you fight evil at all costs, no matter the price?
She saw Arine's face flash before her, quickly consumed by the flames.
"For the greater good," she managed to say, after a painful moment of staring at the after-image of her friend.
Would you do whatever was needed to eradicate your foes?
She felt the reassuring weight of Due Process in her hands.
"I swear it," she said, channeling her anger into the words.
Then become a Knight of Vengeance for the wronged,the voice boomed.
She dropped to her knees, feeling the heat of the warm soot wash through her armored leg, and bowed her head as the flaming sword came down and touched her first on one shoulder, then the other.
Go forth, and use your strength to right what has gone wrong.
"I swear,"Chrys repeated. Her eyes flew open with a start; the smoking ruins were gone, and only the dull grey fabric of the tent met her eyes above. "Huh? Just a dream," she mumbled, disoriented. But as she sat up, something felt different. She couldn't shake the memory of that booming voice, or the feel of the fiery sword as it rested upon her shoulders. "... A Knight o' Vengeance for the wronged,"she mumbled. Shaking her head, she clambered out of her bedroll and tried to forget the dream, instead preparing for the tough day ahead.
"Oi... the rest o' you are already up,"she said on exiting the tent, running a hand fruitlessly through her bed-head. "Glad to see no dragon attacked last night. I'll be ready to go soon as I'm dwarven again," she mutters, still unsettled by her dream.
Lumen has been... withdrawn. Ever since the group made camp, preparing to survive the night, and the coming days. Headed to the orcs. There were many orcs in the world. There was little chance the ones who had made such an impact on his early life had found their way to this swamp. But the vague plans to confront, or investigate, or stop this group of orcs, well, Lumen's been thinking a lot. And not talking. He's not unfriendly. Helpful with the tent and fire and taking watch. Just little conversation. No music. Which is a first, for his companions.
When Nym mentions what she saw during his watch, he says simply, "humanoid?"
Nodding in greeting to each person as they rose, Kessdarra, Chrysoberyl, Lumen and finally Vesper, Nym couldn't help but overhear the dwarf's mutter and chuckle a little. "How does one become dwarven again?"
Head turning towards the half orc as he asked about her watch, she nodded solemnly. "That's all I could make out. They were quite a ways away. Never came closer than about two and a half hundred feet or so. No sign of dragon though at least. Maybe they moved on."
Smiling as the high elf inquired about everyone's rest, Nym nodded, "It was a much needed rest and...time for reflection."Her upper teeth worried at her lower lip, expression falling as her eyes lowered to her hands before seeming to steel herself to meet each one of the group's gaze.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you all. I swear I didn't mean any harm by it, it's just...." The woman picked at her cuticles nervously as she tried to get out, "I'm not a Cleric of Selûne. I do worship her and hold her in close regard but... I'm truly a Cleric of Eilistraee, the Dark Maiden. I wasn't sure you all would still help me if you knew I worshipped a Drow Goddess, good or not, if you knew, so when you assumed that I was a Cleric of Selûne I wasn't inclined to correct you. I'm sorry for the deception."
Chrys rubs at her eyes again and stifles another yawn. "Usually a good ol' coffee helps me become dwarven again, but today, a splash o' cold water to the face is gonna have to do it," she tells Nym tiredly.
As she sets about striking camp, she listens to the others talking, perking up at the mention of visitors and calming down again when nothing comes of it. She does eye Lumen out of the corner of her eye, noting his unusual reticence. "Hey. Cat got yer tongue?" She crosses her arms. "Or are you havin' some second thoughts 'bout goin' after them Red Claws? We ain't mind readers here, so we can't have yer back if ya won't show it to us, ya know."
Her attention is diverted, however, when Nym comes clean about her deception. Chrys tries to keep her temper from bursting so early in the morning, but you see storm clouds gathering on her face. "Lyin' about the gods,"she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. "That's 'bout the worst way to start when you're their servant an' voice in this world. Yer patron only got you to be her face. And the face o' the god you borrow ain't always gonna be too happy ya stole it. Might come back an' bite ya in the butt if ya make it a habit." Still, after a moment or two of deep breathing, she calms down enough to consider Nym's words. "Elistraee, huh?"
Religion: 8
"I think yer gonna have to tell us more 'bout her so I know whose power yer representin'. Ya don't seem like a bad sort, but I don't know much 'bout Elistraee, see?"
"Cat, maybe. More likely, swamp. And flies. And snakes. And spiders. And witches. And scaly old men who are maybe witches. And dragonscales. And now orcs. It's been a lot. For all of us. But I guess it's weighing more on me than I thought. I thought... I thought I'd left all that behind when I left the tribe. Never really fit in anyways. But now, well, I'll be among orcs again. Bright side? I can translate, and I should know more about how the tribe keeps watch, how they operate, their blind spots. We're just trying to see if they're really thee source of the infestation, right? Those rangers we meet what seems like a year ago mentioned Red Claws ranging farther up, and there being a bounty on their insignia. I've picked up a few tricks I could try when we get closer. A glamour that could make one of us invisible. Might be helpful when we want to scout around. But if anyone has a plan, I'd eager to hear it."Lumen finishes his reply to Chrys, and then coughs, cleaning up the campsite and searching around for anything else they might have missed last night.
When Nym says more about the person she saw, he asks if it seemed like a human rogue, the one the party saw as they entered the High Forest.
After Nym's deception is revealed, he leans back and crosses his arms. "Why were you shouting about Selune when you were held captive? I can see why you'd be nervous about that, but you were shouting her name before you knew we were there. And then later, you seemed to adopt her ways after we assumed you were one of hers. I'd also like to know more about this goddess of yours. Does she like spiders, and ettercaps, and gloom? How did you meed the dragonborn friend of yours, really? And is there anything else you haven't told us? If you're going to travel with us, I don't like surprise. secrets."
Fiddling with the stopper of her water pouch, Nym glanced between Lumen and Chrysoberyl as the chatted about their internal thoughts and worried. This group seemed fairly close for adventurers. Not that she had a basis for comparison. She especially liked the dwarf's turn of phrase about backs, making a mental note to remember it as she took a swig of water before offering some to Krackle if he should want some after the bread.
When Lumen asks her about the specifics of the figure she saw, the drow shook her head. "It wasn't clear enough to tell. Even with my vision, a figure two hundred and fifty paces off in the foggy night is hard for me to make out more than the fact that it stood on two legs and had two arms and a humanoid shaped head."
As she felt the sting of the pair's tongues, Nym kept her posture relaxed as she sat, hands folded loosely in front of her in her lap. Raising amethyst eyes to meet the heated woman's, she retorted, "I never lied. Not once did I say 'I am a Cleric of Selûne'. Only that I was a Cleric and I tried to be deserving of her light. As I'm sure all that worship her do. And I do. Worship her that is. I doubt hardly anyone only worships one deity. One doesn't turn to Selvetarm when praying to peace after all. And Selûne is the goddess of wanderers and quest seekers. I was certainly wandering and I was fairly sure there were quest seekers nearby. So I called out to her and you for aid. And so aid came. As for last night,"
Her eyes flickered to Krackle with softer gaze. "I did promise to try and put in a good word and ask for her protection for you all. As well as offer her my thanks for her guidance."
Perking up when they explained that they were more wary because they didn't know anything about her deity, Nym nods vigorously, "I understand, truly. She doesn't hate them?" She says to Lumen with a little uncertainty in her tone,"I'm not sure about her personal feelings on those to be honest but I can tell you that she's the reason I'm here and not still in the Underdark doing Lolth's bidding. She's the only good goddess of the Drow that I know of. And..." The woman's expression glowed with love and enchantment as she went on, "She's the goddess of moonlight, sword-work, hunting, beauty, song, dance and...freedom. She led my family and I through whispers and dreams and signs from the Underdark to the Upperdark and now finally, the surface. And that is the last secret I will keep." Her expression quieted with reserved anxiety. "My family is peaceful and only rare venture out to the surface so I would prefer to keep their location to myself to protect them. I hope you can understand."
Meeting Lumen's eyes, Nym went on, "I don't think I really explained how I met Duaric but there's not a lot to it. He surprised me when I was exploring one night and...was kind. He didn't attack me just for being a Drow and actually helped me. Still helps me. I think Eilistraee might have arranged our happenstance meeting. Maybe because he's a dragonborn descended from a black dragon that he knows what it's like to be judged for what one looks like. He taught me a little of how to hunt in the forest rather than caves. And he seems particularly interested in all the fungi I trade him. Unless you want to delve into my hobbies or tastes I don't think I have much more to tell."
Lumen begins breathing easier as Nym speaks. He absentmindedly picks up his lute, oddly nimble, deft, if not exactly delicate fingers dancing over strings clamped hard to limit the deeper sonic range such a large instrument could create, and also dampen the noise to spread no more than a couple dozen feet. He barely realizes he's doing it, but it's clear he's thinking, and the music helps him think. He's not singing -- grumbling might be the best word, but there's a rumbling cadence to it. Who knows what's going on in his head.
Eventually he nods. First at Nym, then at still-worked-up Chrys, then briefly glancing at contemplative Kess, generous Krackle, and silent Vesper. "I think we don't have everything in common. But we have some things in common. My family... well, it's more complicated than yours sounds, and fleeing for an Upperdark wasn't in the cards. My escape was slower, and just me. But it seems it was for perhaps similar reasons. Orc tribes and drow families. Who needs them?"
"I am fine traveling with you. Especially if you're game to try to fix the rot in this forest. And if you promise to do a few things. Take your turn at the campfire and at the watch. Only touch suspicious masks if you clear it with us. Lie only when necessary to protect the group, or perhaps someone's feelings. Otherwise, we'll not get along well. That work? You can share your hobbies and tastes if you wish, but you don't have to. That's my stance. Chrys?"
"Hmpf. Well, I understand, I s'ppose. I ain't real fond of lil' deceptions like that, but I guess ya were feelin' hunted. I'll let it slide, this time, but I don't like it when people go 'round borrowin' gods' names for their own purposes, e'en if they be innocent. Strikes me as a mite disrespectful,"she grumbles. Still, it seems Chrys's residual grumpiness is more from the act of pretend than anything else; you get the feeling being drow or not doesn't have much to do with her particular brand of pious indignation. "Jus' do as Lumen asked an' we'll get alone fine," she finishes, also rounding up her packing of the campsite.
"Well now. That's done with, an' we got quite the hike back to Phelannie's tree. I say we let Krackle here find his adventure 'fore we go off on ours,"she suggests to the others.
"Frankly, I'm just glad that the goddess you worship isn't eight-legged type with an affection for whips, if you follow my meaning; given just what I was taught and have learned in my time in Luskan, I completely understand your wanting to protect your family from the wrath of Lolth and her minions if the tales of her clergy are anything to go by," Kess would say warmly to Nym, finally chiming in. "Though, the others do have a point; I wouldn't use the name of gods you don't worship, either, but that is water under the drawbridge, as it were.
"By the way, Lumen, I've been meaning to ask... are you truly okay with this? Having to potentially deal with the Red Claws, I mean? I know that you said you're from much further north, but these are your kinfolk per se, aren't they?" Kess looked over to the half-orc, truly concerned. "I apologize if I've made you worry given my personal distaste for the orcs of Many-Arrows, but you've seen a side to orc-kind that many have not, including the rest of us. Surely, there must be some among them that are honorable or at least decent enough if they allowed you to grow to manhood as they did, regardless of being half-orc. Even so, it would seem they are up to no good... will your conscience be clear if things come to blows between the Red Claws and us?
"And I agree, Chrys. We should make for Phellanie's tree first," Kess nodded in agreement, smiling at Krackle and tousling the crown of his scaly head. "We owe our friend here that, and frankly I would like some peace of mind regarding... well, everything. I mean, it's no secret to the rest of you that I didn't exactly trust Braida, but she did seem to keep her word... I think. Even so, I would think that Phellanie would perhaps be able to help us clear the air and make a decision regardless of what we do next. In any case, I think we have what Mr. Dundragon asked of us regarding Phellanie, if memory serves... is that signifcant? We've been out on the road long enough that I'm not entirely sure."
The morning sun slowly rises higher into the sky, creating long, bold shadows on the far side of the rocks in the stone circle. Looking at the expanse of swampy ground that surrounds the small grassy rise, you can see that a low layer of mist hangs close to the ground, but otherwise, the sky is clear. You see no creatures in the swamp, but you occasionally see a few birds that fly high overhead.
After packing up and eating a quick breakfast, you leave your campsite behind and walk back down to the small trail that leads across the swamp. Right would be the direction you'd need to travel to head towards the orc camp, left will bring you back to Braida's lake and ultimately back to Phelannie's grove. With the decision made to accompany Krackle back to the her grove and possibly relay what information you have gained with Phelannie, you turn left and begin retracing your steps back through the swamp. You figure it will take the better part of the day to make it all the way back to the grove, so you move quickly, although not so fast that you can't continue your conversations.
There is no wind this morning, the air is completely still, and since you're heading west, the sun is at your backs. You keep your eyes and ears peeled and alert to your surroundings, but notice nothing out of the ordinary this morning. In about two hours, you make it back to the lake with the tall willow tree growing out of it, and this is where the trail ends. From here, you continue along across the wet spongy ground, which quickly seeps cold, dampness into your boots.
As you continue on from here, the mist slowly begins to creep in more heavily, and you start to see increasing slime covering the ground. The mist quickly turns to thick fog, and the ground becomes even more mucky and muddy, and before long, you find yourselves back at the lake, where all seems silent. There is no sign of Braida, nor do you see or hear any other creatures in the still air.
Lumen, who had sincerely thought the group was continuing onto the Red Claws, follows the path back to the dryad with some visible signs of relief.
As he walks, is there any sign of changing infestation symptoms? Less slime, fewer vermin, less fog, fewer webs? He's curious about whether the absence of whatever was changing the area would have such a sudden change on the environment. It's only been a day, and if Braida's right, and the orcs are behind this, they haven't been dealt with, and there wouldn't be a change.
You don't see much of a change in the amount of slime or dense fog; the place looks pretty much the same as it did yesterday. However, you don't see any signs of creatures or vermin nearby. Everything around you is dead silent.
"Oh I wonder if any o' us'll be gettin' any shut-eye tonight," Chrys grumps. "If any o' you elves e'er wonder why dwarves don't like the forests much, well, this here is a real good reason," she says as she pitches the tent. Stepping back and studying it, she enlists Krackle and Lumen to aid her in trying to disguise the fabric, so that it won't shine like a beacon out into the darkness and inform any aerial visitors of their campsite.
Once they're done, she claps her hands together. "Krackle 'n me can take second watch. We can both see jus' fine in the dark, and I got too much paranoia in me now ta sleep the whole night through anyhow." She crosses her arms and looks at the sky. "Ya think this dragon is part o' the problem? I ain't never heard o' dragons workin' with orcs. Or anybody, really. Thought they were always loners. What a wrinkle, eh? Maybe we shoulda asked Braida about dragons, too."
"More likely, the orcs may be working for the dragon; such a terrible creature tends not to be bound to anyone unless by its own choice if the stories are to be believed," Kess noted as she shared a concerned look with Chrys. "We've all heard tales of them, I am sure; ruthless and cruel intelligences, living engines of war clad in scales harder than steel and able to fly like the wind. That, and baring claws and teeth mighty enough to break the very walls of even the mightiest of cities, able to breathe any different brand of death depending on the species. I certainly join you in hoping that the beast is not out on the hunt tonight."
Setting up your little campsite amidst the standing stones, which definitely offer some level of concealment to a quick stray eye, you set about with your evening activities of eating dinner and tending to your gear underneath the dim twilight, the tall rocks silhouetted agains the clear, darkening sky. You haven't seen very many trees since leaving the lake, except for that willow in the lake, and a few, stands of black spruce, but you're pretty sure that eventually, you will break out of the swamp and emerge back into the trees.
It's pretty quiet out here during the nighttime in this wilderness. Not eerily quiet as it was around the lake; you do hear the faint sounds of crickets and frogs, but nonetheless, you know that there are probably plenty of creatures out there in the swamp, away from the relative and comfortable safety of this little mound that you'd rather not encounter during the night. That realization makes you realize just how lucky you are to have found such a good campsite, seemingly in the middle of nowhere... lucky to find Nym, who told you about it... Lucky for Nym that the rest of you stumbled on Braida's lake and that she was able to hear you and call out for help. It's another reminder of the serendipitous nature of the world and of the mystery of how its wheels are turned by the gods in the most unusual ways.
Kess sets about taking first watch. Finding a suitable vantage point, she sits and surveys the quiet swamp with her keen elven eyes. Begin two days after the new moon, Selûne is just reappearing as a bright silvery sliver in the dark sky, with her tears following just behind. Fortunately, she doesn't see anything that causes her alarm in her four hours.
Nym joins her for the second watch until Kess retires to take her own trance. Nym's superior darkvision gives her an even greater view out into the dim, black wetland. At one point, she sees the outline of what appears to be some kind of humanoid creature moving slowly across the swamp about 250 feet away. It staggers slowly, moving from right to left across her field of view, before disappearing once again into the night, never coming even remotely close to your campsite.
Allowing Chrys and Krackle to get their necessary 8 hours of rest, Nym wakes them up (and Lumen, if he wishes) and sits with them for the rest of the night, through the chilly early morning hours, until the darkness fades from he horizon and the sun begins to glow just below the horizon with the dawning of another day, which, for those keeping track of time, is Eleasis 18, or the 231's day of the year, which means there is just over one month left of summer.
Also...after a nice, long rest, you begin the day feeling rejuvenated and ready for whatever lies ahead.
Reflecting on everything you've experienced up until this point since setting out so many weeks ago, all the battles, interactions, travels and tricky situations you've navigated, you think about all the time you've dedicated to your training, your search for knowledge, and your relentless drive to improve your skills as adventurers. As the morning dawns, you begin to feel that it's all starting to pay off.
You are all Level 3 now. 💪
Nym's eyes lit up in pleased affirmation at her fellow elf's knowledge of Undercommon. But now wasn't a time for idle chit chat. Nodding in agreement to taking second watch, the woman waited for others to settle in before choosing a smoother rock to lean against. Not knowing as much about dragons as the others, the drow stays silent on the matter. She's quiet as the group breaks bread, though mostly from pure exhaustion as opposed to being tight lipped. It wasn't until the others began to lay down that she finally began to also try and relax, shucking off her armor awkwardly to be in just her plain robes, stretching with a wince. It was hard to relax enough to begin her reverie around strangers. But eventually the familiar sounds of crickets and her usual pose helped ease her into trancing.
When she next opens her dusky eyes, Nym feels more like herself than she had in days. The first sight to greet her was her goddess' namesake shining its radiant light down on their campsite, the stars glittering brightly in the night sky to her keen eyes. The second sight was of Kessdarra keeping vigilant eye out on her watch still. Slowly and quietly getting up and re arming and armoring herself, the drow approached her with a friendly nod of greeting. Taking over the watch, her thoughts inevitably drifted to her new companions.
What would have happened if they hadn't investigated Braida's section of the lakeside? Would she still be held captive? Or dead and gone by now? It wasn't worth considering. But it was worth offering thanks. To them as well as Selûne for guiding them and her to this fortuitous outcome. Did the Moonmaiden put her in their path for a reason? Or vice versa?
Nym murmured under her breath a prayer to the Dark Maiden, speaking as though to a maternal figure catching up on missed time. Basking in the night's light as she prayed and kept her eyes honed to any movement and long ears pricked to any unusual sounds. When she caught sight of the humanoid figure, the cleric froze, close to rousing the nearest person. But the figure never got close enough to be more of a concern, merely unsettling. Nym shivered under her cloak at the thought of the hag that had imprisoned her for three days continuing to stalk them.
When she could finally see the glow of the sun begin to stain the black of the sky blue on the horizon, Nym debated briefly how to wake them before settling on resting a hand on Krackle's arm for a moment before letting the contact rouse him. With a whispered greeting, she did the same for the others in turn, Lumen, Chrysoberyl, Vesper and finally Kessdarra. As the party roused and got up, Nym took time to tell them of what she had seen during her watch.
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Krackle listens with to Nym with minor concern as she describes what she saw during her watch. Once again, the little kobold reiterates how much he dislikes this swamp and how much he wishes to depart and leave it behind.
"I'm a druid... I should like all nature, but this place frightens me... it just feels... unnatural somehow... evil. We've only been here a few days, but so far, this place has been nothing but creepy things that try to hurt and kill us."
He then switches topics. "Nym, what is it like to live underground? Most kobolds live underground, but I have always lived up here on the surface. I was still in my egg when I was brought to the surface, and my sister rescued me from a mean shopkeeper who thought he bought a real dragon egg. What is it like to always live in the dark and never see things like green grass and trees and feel the rain? Is it dangerous down there? Have you ever seen any kobolds where you live?"
Getting some of her provisions (only mildly stale from their three days in her pack), Nym offers Krackle some amber lichen and softrock bread. "If it's any comfort, you aren't the only one to feel that way. Like I'd said before, the whole reason I'd explored this far was because my other druid friend had that same feeling and wanted to know the cause. I don't think your friends want you here longer than you have to be. I'm sure they'll get you to safety soon." Thinking of the grove they had mentioned before.
Eyes flicking to a particularly fat toad as it hopped towards the pond, the drow pauses mid munch at the first question. She feels a small pang and huffs a chuckle under her breath as she swallows. "You certainly don't ask only easy questions, do you? Hmm..." Her neck cranes upward to what little of the foggy sky she could see, long silver hair spilling around her.
"Well. It's very dark. I used to live in the Underdark when I was young. Much much deeper underground than the Upperdark. The only light there is from glowing fungus or mushrooms. And there's a lot of them. Entire caverns and forests of them. Instead of trees or....grass?" She asks briefly for confirmation, plucking a blade of said plant from beside her, turning it over before continuing, "Fire or candles are only extremely rarely and briefly used. Even then it's usually for other's benefit. The smoke, you know? Has nowhere to go. Dangerous. Plus there's not any wood to burn and only a limited supply of oil. We cook using lava or steam vents when accessible. Usually towns and cities are built around them for the luxury. But those that are poorer simply do without and prepare food that doesn't need heat to prepare. Mushrooms, lichen and tubers are a staple in everything. It is dangerous. The deeper you go the more things want to kill or eat you. Or sacrifice you."
Throwing the blade of grass and watching it twirl to the ground, Nym states with troubled expression, "I had seen Kobolds in the Underdark but not spoken with any. And in the Upperdark they kept their distance. Didn't much like Drow, which I certainly don't blame them for."
She changes the subject, trying not to dwell on the situation of when she had last seen a Kobold in the Underdark. "That shopkeep must have been an idiot as well as mean to think that a Kobold egg was a dragon's. I'm glad your sister rescued you from him."
"The surface is...definitely taking getting used to but..." A radiant smile creeps across her face as she admits, "I wouldn't trade it for anything. 'Day' and 'night' and 'weather' and 'seasons'?! It's all a bit much. Everything's always the same underground. But up here everything's new and changing. It's exciting, if confusing."
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
"Mmm... good morning, everyone," Kess would say as she let out a little yawn, tossing her hair from out of her face; for her reverie, she'd elected to curl up into her bedroll and blanket, grateful for the warmth. Next to her head, a partially-open book rests on the ground that she gently brushes off and packs away as she sits up and brushes her long locks out of her face. "How did all of you rest? Things felt... restorative, at least for me. I was reviewing some of the lessons of my youth during my watch last night."
Chrys fell into a fitful sleep that night, haunted by dreams of a black dragon razing the land.
At first she dreamed of Twilight Tor being raised to the ground; she could feel the heat spreading up her chin and across her face as she stood there, powerless to stop the dragon's rampage. Through the flames, she saw Frida Crabapple, the corrupted constaple of Melton, surging out, leading a pack of war-painted Red Claw orcs. The horde surged through the fires, cutting down the screaming forms of her friends. She saw flashes of silver and red scale, skin both dark and light, cries both masculine and feminine. The smell of burned flesh and the copper tang of blood flooded the air, but she couldn't move; couldn't help any of her friends or protect them from the onslaught.
As the flames died down, leaving only smoke and ashes, Chrys stood and looked at the charred remains of her life. Something was stirring in her; a deep-rooted anger, that she should have been able to prevent it all. As her all-too-familiar temper flared once again, a powerful voice boomed behind her.
Could you set right that which has gone wrong?
"I want to," Chrys swore, feeling her hands tighten around the grip of her hammer.
Would you fight evil at all costs, no matter the price?
She saw Arine's face flash before her, quickly consumed by the flames.
"For the greater good," she managed to say, after a painful moment of staring at the after-image of her friend.
Would you do whatever was needed to eradicate your foes?
She felt the reassuring weight of Due Process in her hands.
"I swear it," she said, channeling her anger into the words.
Then become a Knight of Vengeance for the wronged, the voice boomed.
She dropped to her knees, feeling the heat of the warm soot wash through her armored leg, and bowed her head as the flaming sword came down and touched her first on one shoulder, then the other.
Go forth, and use your strength to right what has gone wrong.
"I swear," Chrys repeated. Her eyes flew open with a start; the smoking ruins were gone, and only the dull grey fabric of the tent met her eyes above. "Huh? Just a dream," she mumbled, disoriented. But as she sat up, something felt different. She couldn't shake the memory of that booming voice, or the feel of the fiery sword as it rested upon her shoulders. "... A Knight o' Vengeance for the wronged," she mumbled. Shaking her head, she clambered out of her bedroll and tried to forget the dream, instead preparing for the tough day ahead.
"Oi... the rest o' you are already up," she said on exiting the tent, running a hand fruitlessly through her bed-head. "Glad to see no dragon attacked last night. I'll be ready to go soon as I'm dwarven again," she mutters, still unsettled by her dream.
Lumen has been... withdrawn. Ever since the group made camp, preparing to survive the night, and the coming days. Headed to the orcs. There were many orcs in the world. There was little chance the ones who had made such an impact on his early life had found their way to this swamp. But the vague plans to confront, or investigate, or stop this group of orcs, well, Lumen's been thinking a lot. And not talking. He's not unfriendly. Helpful with the tent and fire and taking watch. Just little conversation. No music. Which is a first, for his companions.
When Nym mentions what she saw during his watch, he says simply, "humanoid?"
Nodding in greeting to each person as they rose, Kessdarra, Chrysoberyl, Lumen and finally Vesper, Nym couldn't help but overhear the dwarf's mutter and chuckle a little. "How does one become dwarven again?"
Head turning towards the half orc as he asked about her watch, she nodded solemnly. "That's all I could make out. They were quite a ways away. Never came closer than about two and a half hundred feet or so. No sign of dragon though at least. Maybe they moved on."
Smiling as the high elf inquired about everyone's rest, Nym nodded, "It was a much needed rest and...time for reflection." Her upper teeth worried at her lower lip, expression falling as her eyes lowered to her hands before seeming to steel herself to meet each one of the group's gaze.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you all. I swear I didn't mean any harm by it, it's just...." The woman picked at her cuticles nervously as she tried to get out, "I'm not a Cleric of Selûne. I do worship her and hold her in close regard but... I'm truly a Cleric of Eilistraee, the Dark Maiden. I wasn't sure you all would still help me if you knew I worshipped a Drow Goddess, good or not, if you knew, so when you assumed that I was a Cleric of Selûne I wasn't inclined to correct you. I'm sorry for the deception."
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Chrys rubs at her eyes again and stifles another yawn. "Usually a good ol' coffee helps me become dwarven again, but today, a splash o' cold water to the face is gonna have to do it," she tells Nym tiredly.
As she sets about striking camp, she listens to the others talking, perking up at the mention of visitors and calming down again when nothing comes of it. She does eye Lumen out of the corner of her eye, noting his unusual reticence. "Hey. Cat got yer tongue?" She crosses her arms. "Or are you havin' some second thoughts 'bout goin' after them Red Claws? We ain't mind readers here, so we can't have yer back if ya won't show it to us, ya know."
Her attention is diverted, however, when Nym comes clean about her deception. Chrys tries to keep her temper from bursting so early in the morning, but you see storm clouds gathering on her face. "Lyin' about the gods," she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. "That's 'bout the worst way to start when you're their servant an' voice in this world. Yer patron only got you to be her face. And the face o' the god you borrow ain't always gonna be too happy ya stole it. Might come back an' bite ya in the butt if ya make it a habit." Still, after a moment or two of deep breathing, she calms down enough to consider Nym's words. "Elistraee, huh?"
Religion: 8
"I think yer gonna have to tell us more 'bout her so I know whose power yer representin'. Ya don't seem like a bad sort, but I don't know much 'bout Elistraee, see?"
"Cat, maybe. More likely, swamp. And flies. And snakes. And spiders. And witches. And scaly old men who are maybe witches. And dragonscales. And now orcs. It's been a lot. For all of us. But I guess it's weighing more on me than I thought. I thought... I thought I'd left all that behind when I left the tribe. Never really fit in anyways. But now, well, I'll be among orcs again. Bright side? I can translate, and I should know more about how the tribe keeps watch, how they operate, their blind spots. We're just trying to see if they're really thee source of the infestation, right? Those rangers we meet what seems like a year ago mentioned Red Claws ranging farther up, and there being a bounty on their insignia. I've picked up a few tricks I could try when we get closer. A glamour that could make one of us invisible. Might be helpful when we want to scout around. But if anyone has a plan, I'd eager to hear it." Lumen finishes his reply to Chrys, and then coughs, cleaning up the campsite and searching around for anything else they might have missed last night.
When Nym says more about the person she saw, he asks if it seemed like a human rogue, the one the party saw as they entered the High Forest.
After Nym's deception is revealed, he leans back and crosses his arms. "Why were you shouting about Selune when you were held captive? I can see why you'd be nervous about that, but you were shouting her name before you knew we were there. And then later, you seemed to adopt her ways after we assumed you were one of hers. I'd also like to know more about this goddess of yours. Does she like spiders, and ettercaps, and gloom? How did you meed the dragonborn friend of yours, really? And is there anything else you haven't told us? If you're going to travel with us, I don't like surprise. secrets."
Fiddling with the stopper of her water pouch, Nym glanced between Lumen and Chrysoberyl as the chatted about their internal thoughts and worried. This group seemed fairly close for adventurers. Not that she had a basis for comparison. She especially liked the dwarf's turn of phrase about backs, making a mental note to remember it as she took a swig of water before offering some to Krackle if he should want some after the bread.
When Lumen asks her about the specifics of the figure she saw, the drow shook her head. "It wasn't clear enough to tell. Even with my vision, a figure two hundred and fifty paces off in the foggy night is hard for me to make out more than the fact that it stood on two legs and had two arms and a humanoid shaped head."
As she felt the sting of the pair's tongues, Nym kept her posture relaxed as she sat, hands folded loosely in front of her in her lap. Raising amethyst eyes to meet the heated woman's, she retorted, "I never lied. Not once did I say 'I am a Cleric of Selûne'. Only that I was a Cleric and I tried to be deserving of her light. As I'm sure all that worship her do. And I do. Worship her that is. I doubt hardly anyone only worships one deity. One doesn't turn to Selvetarm when praying to peace after all. And Selûne is the goddess of wanderers and quest seekers. I was certainly wandering and I was fairly sure there were quest seekers nearby. So I called out to her and you for aid. And so aid came. As for last night,"
Her eyes flickered to Krackle with softer gaze. "I did promise to try and put in a good word and ask for her protection for you all. As well as offer her my thanks for her guidance."
Perking up when they explained that they were more wary because they didn't know anything about her deity, Nym nods vigorously, "I understand, truly. She doesn't hate them?" She says to Lumen with a little uncertainty in her tone, "I'm not sure about her personal feelings on those to be honest but I can tell you that she's the reason I'm here and not still in the Underdark doing Lolth's bidding. She's the only good goddess of the Drow that I know of. And..." The woman's expression glowed with love and enchantment as she went on, "She's the goddess of moonlight, sword-work, hunting, beauty, song, dance and...freedom. She led my family and I through whispers and dreams and signs from the Underdark to the Upperdark and now finally, the surface. And that is the last secret I will keep." Her expression quieted with reserved anxiety. "My family is peaceful and only rare venture out to the surface so I would prefer to keep their location to myself to protect them. I hope you can understand."
Meeting Lumen's eyes, Nym went on, "I don't think I really explained how I met Duaric but there's not a lot to it. He surprised me when I was exploring one night and...was kind. He didn't attack me just for being a Drow and actually helped me. Still helps me. I think Eilistraee might have arranged our happenstance meeting. Maybe because he's a dragonborn descended from a black dragon that he knows what it's like to be judged for what one looks like. He taught me a little of how to hunt in the forest rather than caves. And he seems particularly interested in all the fungi I trade him. Unless you want to delve into my hobbies or tastes I don't think I have much more to tell."
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Lumen begins breathing easier as Nym speaks. He absentmindedly picks up his lute, oddly nimble, deft, if not exactly delicate fingers dancing over strings clamped hard to limit the deeper sonic range such a large instrument could create, and also dampen the noise to spread no more than a couple dozen feet. He barely realizes he's doing it, but it's clear he's thinking, and the music helps him think. He's not singing -- grumbling might be the best word, but there's a rumbling cadence to it. Who knows what's going on in his head.
Eventually he nods. First at Nym, then at still-worked-up Chrys, then briefly glancing at contemplative Kess, generous Krackle, and silent Vesper. "I think we don't have everything in common. But we have some things in common. My family... well, it's more complicated than yours sounds, and fleeing for an Upperdark wasn't in the cards. My escape was slower, and just me. But it seems it was for perhaps similar reasons. Orc tribes and drow families. Who needs them?"
"I am fine traveling with you. Especially if you're game to try to fix the rot in this forest. And if you promise to do a few things. Take your turn at the campfire and at the watch. Only touch suspicious masks if you clear it with us. Lie only when necessary to protect the group, or perhaps someone's feelings. Otherwise, we'll not get along well. That work? You can share your hobbies and tastes if you wish, but you don't have to. That's my stance. Chrys?"
"Hmpf. Well, I understand, I s'ppose. I ain't real fond of lil' deceptions like that, but I guess ya were feelin' hunted. I'll let it slide, this time, but I don't like it when people go 'round borrowin' gods' names for their own purposes, e'en if they be innocent. Strikes me as a mite disrespectful," she grumbles. Still, it seems Chrys's residual grumpiness is more from the act of pretend than anything else; you get the feeling being drow or not doesn't have much to do with her particular brand of pious indignation. "Jus' do as Lumen asked an' we'll get alone fine," she finishes, also rounding up her packing of the campsite.
"Well now. That's done with, an' we got quite the hike back to Phelannie's tree. I say we let Krackle here find his adventure 'fore we go off on ours," she suggests to the others.
"Frankly, I'm just glad that the goddess you worship isn't eight-legged type with an affection for whips, if you follow my meaning; given just what I was taught and have learned in my time in Luskan, I completely understand your wanting to protect your family from the wrath of Lolth and her minions if the tales of her clergy are anything to go by," Kess would say warmly to Nym, finally chiming in. "Though, the others do have a point; I wouldn't use the name of gods you don't worship, either, but that is water under the drawbridge, as it were.
"By the way, Lumen, I've been meaning to ask... are you truly okay with this? Having to potentially deal with the Red Claws, I mean? I know that you said you're from much further north, but these are your kinfolk per se, aren't they?" Kess looked over to the half-orc, truly concerned. "I apologize if I've made you worry given my personal distaste for the orcs of Many-Arrows, but you've seen a side to orc-kind that many have not, including the rest of us. Surely, there must be some among them that are honorable or at least decent enough if they allowed you to grow to manhood as they did, regardless of being half-orc. Even so, it would seem they are up to no good... will your conscience be clear if things come to blows between the Red Claws and us?
"And I agree, Chrys. We should make for Phellanie's tree first," Kess nodded in agreement, smiling at Krackle and tousling the crown of his scaly head. "We owe our friend here that, and frankly I would like some peace of mind regarding... well, everything. I mean, it's no secret to the rest of you that I didn't exactly trust Braida, but she did seem to keep her word... I think. Even so, I would think that Phellanie would perhaps be able to help us clear the air and make a decision regardless of what we do next. In any case, I think we have what Mr. Dundragon asked of us regarding Phellanie, if memory serves... is that signifcant? We've been out on the road long enough that I'm not entirely sure."
The morning sun slowly rises higher into the sky, creating long, bold shadows on the far side of the rocks in the stone circle. Looking at the expanse of swampy ground that surrounds the small grassy rise, you can see that a low layer of mist hangs close to the ground, but otherwise, the sky is clear. You see no creatures in the swamp, but you occasionally see a few birds that fly high overhead.
After packing up and eating a quick breakfast, you leave your campsite behind and walk back down to the small trail that leads across the swamp. Right would be the direction you'd need to travel to head towards the orc camp, left will bring you back to Braida's lake and ultimately back to Phelannie's grove. With the decision made to accompany Krackle back to the her grove and possibly relay what information you have gained with Phelannie, you turn left and begin retracing your steps back through the swamp. You figure it will take the better part of the day to make it all the way back to the grove, so you move quickly, although not so fast that you can't continue your conversations.
There is no wind this morning, the air is completely still, and since you're heading west, the sun is at your backs. You keep your eyes and ears peeled and alert to your surroundings, but notice nothing out of the ordinary this morning. In about two hours, you make it back to the lake with the tall willow tree growing out of it, and this is where the trail ends. From here, you continue along across the wet spongy ground, which quickly seeps cold, dampness into your boots.
As you continue on from here, the mist slowly begins to creep in more heavily, and you start to see increasing slime covering the ground. The mist quickly turns to thick fog, and the ground becomes even more mucky and muddy, and before long, you find yourselves back at the lake, where all seems silent. There is no sign of Braida, nor do you see or hear any other creatures in the still air.
Lumen, who had sincerely thought the group was continuing onto the Red Claws, follows the path back to the dryad with some visible signs of relief.
As he walks, is there any sign of changing infestation symptoms? Less slime, fewer vermin, less fog, fewer webs? He's curious about whether the absence of whatever was changing the area would have such a sudden change on the environment. It's only been a day, and if Braida's right, and the orcs are behind this, they haven't been dealt with, and there wouldn't be a change.
You don't see much of a change in the amount of slime or dense fog; the place looks pretty much the same as it did yesterday. However, you don't see any signs of creatures or vermin nearby. Everything around you is dead silent.