Chapter 1: Estrangement and Reunion
Notes:
REGARDING TAGS: I've tried to tag based on what I have planned for the story, but sometimes the story takes unexpected turns so tags are subject to change if new things come up as I write. Also, I don't tag one-time things, though I will put a content warning at the beginning of the chapter for potentially disturbing content. However, be aware that this is a dark-ish story, though not as dark as "Pariah's Descent Into Avernus".
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 17, 1496 (1 day after the New Moon)
Four people stepped out of the Howling Bottle, a small inn with a white-shingled roof that was the only place to stay in Virrath, a hamlet on the Coast Highway near the turnoff to Candlekeep.
One was a short, lean tiefling woman with very pale skin that had the barest hint of bluish tint to it, and piercing blue eyes. Two thin horns stuck out from her forehead, curving back over her head on either side of a shaggy strip of dark blue, almost black hair about a hand's width across, running back across her scalp. The base of her left horn had an old scar that cut nearly halfway through. She was dressed in battle-worn armor of leather reinforced with rivets, carefully tailored to accommodate her tail. Her hands were covered in a webbing of lumpy burn scars that went past the sleeves of her armor. She sported a saber on her hip and a shield on her back.
The next was a human woman with dusky skin, green eyes and long, wheat blonde hair tied in a pony tail. She was also armored, though dressed in heavier half-plate. Her left hand was not flesh, but rather a sturdy metal mechanism of silver and steel. A shining gold coin inscribed with a woman's smiling face hung from a leather cord around her neck, the sign of a worshiper of Tymora.
The third was another human woman, who had brown skin and short, brown hair worn in a simple cut. She wore no armor other than a shining metal gauntlet on her right hand, and was otherwise dressed in fine clothes of Calishite style. Her posture was stiff and her expression aloof. Her most striking feature were her eyes, pools like polished silver with no iris or pupil. She carried a maple wood staff carved with arcane symbols, which likely marked her as a spellcaster of some kind.
The last was a red-headed man in heavy armor. On his belt were sheathed a longsword and a shortsword. He had a well-trimmed beard and mustache around his mouth, though his freckled cheeks were clean shaven. His face was youthful but his eyes carried the look of someone who had seen too much in his young life.
The man turned to the Calishite woman. "Farima, come fetch the horses with me?"
The woman nodded. "Very well." The two of them headed towards the stables.
When they were out of earshot, the tiefling, Pariah, mumbled, "You know, I really thought the two of them were going to end up together."
Rowan, the other woman, laughed. "I think Ryland wanted it, but I'm not sure Farima thinks about that kind of thing. She seems kind of baffled by the idea of couples."
Pariah grinned back at her, knowing she was right. Farima had always been very devout, focused on her studies and her worship to the point of disinterest in physical pleasure. Pariah had been worried about how the woman might change once they had returned to the Material Plane a year and a half ago. After all, she had been holier-than-thou before, and now she'd literally been blessed by an angel.
However, rather than becoming arrogant or pious, Farima had become more compassionate and warmer -- warmer for her anyhow. She was less judgmental and kinder. She still tried to guide others, especially Pariah, in the errors of their ways, but was more accepting of different lifestyles than she had been.
As the two reached the stables and started talking to the stable master, Pariah reflected that she was glad Ryland had come to Baldur's Gate. Elturel was in ruins. The Hellriders had collapsed. Most of his friends and family had been killed in Avernus. The nation of Elturgard had split into two city states that simmered at the brink of war. Ryland had been lost and disillusioned, and had sought the group out in the hopes of finding something new to do with his life. He had fit in well and was much happier than he'd been before.
"I never asked," Rowan said as she stretched. "What are you going to study this trip?"
"I'm not sure. I'm looking for more books written in Jotun; I need the practice." She had found more of Vrudlor's writings, though not another copy of Skybound Reflections on Ethics, and she had been learning his native language in order to read them.
Rowan chuckled. "How many languages is that? Four?"
Pariah did a mental inventory: Chondathan, Espruar, Lesser Baatezu and Jotun. "Um, yeah, four. Spoken anyhow. I'm still pretty slow reading Jotun and Baatezu." She sighed. "Leave it to me to study four languages with four different writing systems. And I keep wanting to learn some Enochian, but that's yet another new alphabet."
"I think you just love the challenge," Rowan laughed. "I'm so glad you got that nonsense at Candlekeep taken care of."
Pariah's ban had been lifted, in no small part due to Traxigor's efforts. It was one of the many favors she'd called in as payback for abandoning them in the Nine Hells. She now had free run of the library, though she was pretty sure the monks kept a closer eye on her than they did on other people. She made regular runs to Candlekeep now, trying to fill her voracious hunger for knowledge.
Pariah said to Rowan, "Good luck at the tower. Be careful. Those stories sound pretty awful."
"Oh we'll be fine," Rowan assured her. "You know how these legends of magical towers in the middle of nowhere get exaggerated. Probably just a few bandits with a spellcaster leader."
The stable master led out their horses. Three were saddled and ready and he was rushing to finish the fourth. Pariah watched them as she said, "It shouldn't be just the three of you."
Rowan put her metal arm around Pariah. "I know you want to help, but it would be too dangerous. I mean I'm glad you broke the pact and gave up your power, but you couldn't face the dangers we do."
Pariah held her hand up in front of her face and concentrated. Frost danced across the scarred skin of her fingers.
Rowan watched this minor magic with a worried frown. "You should stop doing that. You don't want to attract his attention."
None of them had any idea what this meant. Her power had been gone with no trace ever since her pact had been burned off her skin, but a few weeks ago she'd started feeling cold energy inside of her. She'd been able to direct it a little, but only to do this parlor trick. Farima and Rowan had used their spells and divinations, and could detect no infernal traces to the magical energy, but they were all worried that somehow her link to Levistus was returning. Pariah didn't want that. She never regretted giving up anything except her ability to read all writing, and even that she was learning the old-fashioned way.
She lowered her hand to watch the stable master finish with the last horse. "When I said it shouldn't just be the three of you, I wasn't talking about me."
"Oh," Rowan said quietly. "Well, she had to make her own choices. Things had gotten pretty tense. She needed some space."
"I guess. But I think we would have gotten over it." She looked at Farima. "Most of us anyhow."
Rowan followed her gaze. "We are passing near Tall Trees. I'm going to suggest we drop in and visit, see how she's doing." She sighed. "If she's still there. If Farima doesn't go off on a rant. If Lythienne's even willing to see us." She shook her head. "At least we still exchange letters. She hasn't cut us off entirely."
"I know." Pariah looked forward to her letters and agreed that it was still possible they could mend fences, but time passed quickly, especially for short-lived humans and tieflings. That had been one of her concerns: elves and dwarves were known for holding grudges for decades simply because decades weren't that long to them. Pariah continued, "I've heard you playing the 'forgiveness and compassion' card with Farima. How's that working?"
The other two were leading the horses over and were nearly in earshot, so Rowan settled for making a "so-so" gesture with her hand before turning towards them.
They took a few minutes to secure their belongings onto the animals and then mount up. Rowan led the way out of town with the other three following along behind. It was only about a quarter mile past the edge of town before they reached the weathered sign reading "The Way of the Lion" that pointed down a narrower side road.
Rowan pulled up to a stop. Pariah said, "Well, this is me." She shared clumsy hugs from horseback with each of them before saying, "See you all in a couple of weeks," and turning down the road to Candlekeep. She heard the hooves of the others move off, and she turned to give them one last wave.
The spring weather was cool with a light breeze that made travel comfortable. She alternated riding and walking the horse, which is how she preferred to travel. Sitting on the horse was fine -- she certainly didn't get the kind of aches she had gotten during her first trip to Candlekeep -- but she also liked the feel of walking. When she traveled to the library alone, she usually traveled on foot rather than horseback.
She liked the trips. She still felt comfortable in Baldur's Gate, of course, the only place that had ever really been home to her, but she was surprised to find she enjoyed getting away from the city. She didn't travel much, mostly to Candlekeep and back, but something about being out in nature had become very appealing. Sure, she had her house in Norchapel, a simple but sturdy little domicile. And she had friends all through the Outer City, with a few in the Lower City as well. She'd smoothed things over with The Forgotten, though she hadn't tried to rejoin them. She got along with most of the Outer City factions including, of course, The Guild. Hells, even the Flaming Fist showed her a smidgeon of courtesy as she walked down the street.
She made a decent living as a sword for hire, and could afford to be choosy about her jobs. Without magic to fall back on, she'd gotten pretty good with the thin-bladed saber she carried; she had no interest in going back to a rapier. She'd learned to fight with a real shield instead of the sheet of ice she used to be able to summon, and she was a decent shot with a longbow. However, she never managed to hold onto her money long. Most of what she made ended up getting spent on those in need around the Outer City, but she managed a comfortable life and didn't need more.
And yet, the more she traveled, the more she felt a little suffocated in the city. The stink, the crowds, the noise all used to be comforting, and still were in a way, but she also enjoyed the solitude and quiet of natural environments like this one. The land around her at the moment wasn't especially picturesque, just empty grassland with the odd tree and an occasional cluster of scrubby bushes like the ones coming up alongside the road ahead. And yet, there was a certain calm beauty to it she had learned to appreciate. Sometimes she idly considered just taking off somewhere like the Cloak Wood and living the hermit's life for a while.
But then she'd remember that she'd miss beer and coffee and books and conversation and all the other amenities of city life, so she'd push away the silly fantasy and get back to her life.
She was walking in front of the gelding, leading him with a loose grip on the reins, lost in thought. The rustle in the bushes had just started to penetrate her reverie, and she turned as two dark shapes leapt out and onto the horse's back. The animal screamed in panic and bolted, shouldering Pariah aside as he galloped past her and ripped the loosely held reins from her hand. Two huge spiders were clinging to the horse, their mandibles piercing his flesh as he squealed and collapsed in the middle of the road.
Her longbow was on the horse, so Pariah slipped her shield off her back and onto her left arm. She started to reach for her saber but hesitated as she felt a familiar sense of cold in her arm. The giant spiders were feeding on the horse and ignoring her, so she took a moment to look down and see the ice playing along her fingers. Frowning, she slowly raised her right hand towards the spiders and focused her mind. The word "dzwushk," came instinctively to her lips, and a beam of icy energy leapt out from her palm, striking the nearer arachnid. A cold wind swirled around her and the light dimmed as though the sun had gone behind a cloud.
The spider whirled on her and charged. Her mind was still spinning from the implications of what had just happened, so Pariah reacted slowly. She drew her sword but wasn't able to bring up the shield in time. The spider's mandibles sank into her leg, piercing the tasset over her thigh, and she felt poison burn into the muscle. The cold around her enveloped the creature, leaving frost on its hairy body before dissipating completely.
The pain spurred her into action. She smashed the spider with the edge of her shield, causing it to release its grip, and then she stabbed down to kill it. The other spider had noticed her and was closing as well. She pointed her sword and tried to will the cold beam through the weapon like she had been able to do in the past, but the energy sputtered, leaving nothing more than a layer of ice along the guard. The spider was on her by this time, though she managed to clumsily block its bite with her shield.
Its skin was hard, and it was surprisingly agile, so she had trouble causing any serious wounds. However, her senses were on the alert now so she was able to dodge, parry or block its attacks. Her leg ached but she didn't feel the dizziness or sickness she had felt from venom before.
She finally managed to land a powerful slash against its legs, crippling two on its left side. It tried to scuttle back but was too slow to avoid her follow up. The point of her sword pierced its head. It fell to the ground, though it still twitched. She stabbed it a couple more times until it stopped moving and its legs curled up into tight knots.
Pariah scanned the area, afraid of another ambush, but nothing stirred. She limped over to the horse but, as expected, he was dead. She sat down heavily on the ground to examine her wound. She removed her tassets and lowered her breeches to expose the burn scars on her thigh. She used to joke that the scars that covered her body made her skin tough like natural armor; looking at the wound, she knew that wasn't really true.
However, the punctures were shallower than she had thought. The holes in the leather and padding would need to be patched; the hole in the skin would heal itself. She sighed, remembering that Rowan's prayers could have fixed both. She wrapped a quick bandage around the wound and then put her armor back on.
She got her gear from the horse, which was a challenge since the animal was lying on half of it. She wasn't strong enough to move the body, and she was afraid of reopening her leg wound, but she finally managed to free her longbow. Unfortunately, there was no way, short of butchering the horse, she'd be able to get the saddle off so she settled for recovering as much of her stuff as she could, which thankfully included her pack.
With that done, Pariah finally had to face something she had been avoiding. She looked at her hand and, with a thought and a gesture, the cold gathered in her palm. She flung her hand out, and a white beam coated a nearby bush in frost and a frozen aura gathered around her, though it faded in a few seconds. She frowned. "I don't want your power," she shouted to the air, but nobody responded.
She experimented a bit. Unlike before, she couldn't shoot the cold magic while she was holding her sword. She needed a free hand to shape the spell. She didn't seem to be able to do anything else. She pulled a book from her pack and she could read it, but she could read already. She didn't know whether or not her ability to read everything had returned.
Pariah finally forced herself to start walking. The trip from Virrath to Candlekeep was a full day, and she'd already wasted too much time here. Her wound ached; she hoped it wouldn't slow her down too much. She resumed her journey, leaving behind a free saddle and surprise corpses for the next traveler.
"Talona's tits. Talona's tits. Talona's tits," Pariah chanted through gritted teeth in cadence with her steps. The pain had gotten worse. She had been considering just stopping for the night, but then she had seen the gray smudge of Candlekeep on the horizon so she had pushed on. In addition to other things, she also missed her magic jug that dispensed beer and wine. A little pain control would have been helpful.
She had expected to get to the library in the early afternoon, but the sky was reddening into dusk now. She'd be there before dark, but it had been a long and exhausting trip. The infirmary was available day and night -- the knowledge at Candlekeep sometimes had dangerous and potentially lethal effects -- but it was not free. She had only a little money on her, and she'd need much of that for the trip back.
As she got close, she was surprised to see a woman sitting against the wall about a hundred feet from the main gate. Pariah couldn't see much at this distance other than she appeared human or maybe half-elven, had blonde hair, and wore chainmail. The strange thing was it looked like she had set up a small campsite. Pariah had never heard of such a thing. Could Candlekeep be closed for some reason? Would she have to wait to be admitted?
She was relieved when three monks came out of the gatehouse as normal, though she still worried they were about to turn her away. She didn't recognize the dark-haired, male sun elf who bore a sour expression. She was familiar with the female copper dragonborn just because they were so uncommon, but couldn't recall her name. Something starting with F? However, she knew the human woman with messy hair.
"Blyth, hello," Pariah called out.
The woman looked down at her wound in surprise. "Pariah, are you all right?"
The tiefling forced a smile. "I'll be better when I get to the infirmary. Giant spiders."
"On the road?" she asked in shock. "I'll let the captain know. We have to keep these roads safe for seekers."
"If they find my saddle, I want it back," she laughed, already handing over the book she had retrieved from her pack.
"Faithful Archives of the Rogue," Blyth read aloud.
"It's a pretty awful biography," Pariah warned her.
Blyth smile gently. "All books have something to offer." After a moment, the pendant around her neck glowed softly. "This will be acceptable. You may enter, seeker." She added firmly, "And go right to the infirmary."
"I will," Pariah promised as she handed her sword and bow over to the elven man. She also had a hand axe, a crowbar and a small knife. These were tools rather than weapons, and in previous visits she had been allowed to keep them with the warning that any attempt to use them as weapons would be dealt with harshly.
"Shall I tell Mistress Sylvira that you have arrived?" Blyth asked mischievously.
"You are hilarious," the tiefling replied with mock gravity. When Sylvira knew Pariah was in the keep, she constantly pestered her with questions about Avernus, Levistus, Elturel and more. Luckily, most of the time the woman was so involved in her studies and experiments that she didn't know what day it was, so Pariah was able to come and go in relative peace, but she was always on the alert for the other tiefling. Her efforts to avoid Sylvira had become something of a running joke in the keep.
To be fair, Pariah thought to herself, it could be useful to talk to an expert in the Nine Hells about this sudden return of a trickle of magic, but Falaster might be a less obsessed option.
"Excuse me," came a woman's voice from her side. "Your name is Pariah, is it not?" Pariah turned to see it was the warrior who had been sitting outside the wall. She was bigger up close, a full foot taller than Pariah, with alabaster skin, shining blonde hair that reached to her shoulders, and piercing topaz eyes.
Pariah brow furrowed as she looked at the woman. Pariah was sure she had never met her before -- the woman cut such a striking figure that Pariah was certain she would remember her -- and yet there was something familiar about her.
The dragonborn woman said sternly, "We said you could camp here, not that you could pester the seekers."
The warrior smiled tightly. In an annoyed tone, she said, "I have been here three days and spoken to no one. I do not see that as pestering. As I said, I was sent a sign that I should wait here. I believe this is the person I was supposed to be waiting for." She turned back to Pariah. More kindly, she asked, "May I speak with you over there?" She waved in the direction of her camp.
The three monks watched carefully but didn't intervene. Pariah didn't have the devil's sight she used to, but she was still pretty good at spotting deception. This woman seemed genuine enough, and the more Pariah looked at her face, the more certain she was that they had met, and yet she couldn't imagine forgetting someone like this.
On the other hand, the woman's mention of signs bothered her. Pariah got very nervous when people started talking about omens and visions and fate.
"All right," she said slowly, suddenly aware she had already given away her weapons. The woman had a longsword on her hip and a far more athletic physique than Pariah's. Then again, the monks were right here and wouldn't tolerate an attack on a seeker, even outside the walls.
The woman turned away and started toward her camp. Pariah followed a few feet behind. Neither spoke as they walked along the base of the wall. The woman had a bedroll laid out by a traveler's backpack that included a pocket for several javelins. Leaning against the wall was a shield that bore the symbol of Lathander, and next to that was a helmet.
"Pariah!" a voice squealed from up above.
Pariah looked up to see a golden streak shooting towards her, and suddenly something small was hugging her neck. The shape said in a high voice, "Pariah, I'm so glad to see you! I've missed you!"
She reached up with her left hand to gently grab a humanoid about a foot tall and pull her away from the hug. It was a small woman with rosy cheeks, flaxen hair, and gold-feathered wings. She was dressed in a flowing, belted white robe and had a miniature sword sheathed at her side. She grinned as Pariah looked at her, the tiefling growing even more confused.
"Don't you recognize me?" the tiny woman giggled.
Pariah couldn't think of an answer so just shook her head mutely.
"It's Lulu!" crowed the winged figure.
She didn't know a Lulu. Well, other than a hollyphant. A hollyphant who had flaxen fur, gold-feathered wings, and a bubbly personality. "Lulu?" she said incredulously.
Pariah jumped as she felt a touch on her other hand. The warrior was looking down at her burn scars with an expression of concern. "I'm sorry," she said. "I had hoped I would be able to heal your burns more effectively. I trust they haven't troubled you too badly."
Pariah's eyes widened as she realized where she had seen this woman before. Towering over her on the battlefield in front of the High Hall. In a vision of an angel's fall from grace. In a brutal duel with a powerful devil. In a pocket universe where she had burned Pariah's skin off.
"Zariel?" she breathed.
Notes:
As with my previous story, this is sort of playthrough fic. I made characters in D&D Beyond and I run most battles through Roll20. I'll typically use passive values rather than rolls for skill checks, but in the end I'll fudge whatever is necessary for the story I want to tell. I created a few homebrew rules designed specifically for this module.
In addition to the adventure itself, I've incorporated some of the advice from the Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion. I may add other third-party sources as I go, though I have a pretty solid story planned out already.
I track the date, or more specifically the cycle of the moon, because that is going to matter to events in the story. For those not familiar with the calendar, Kythorn is basically the middle of Spring.
I thought a lot about changing Pariah's name. It doesn't really fit her anymore, and it's her third name anyhow so it's not like it would be out of character. I was thinking of Rez, short for Resurrection. However, I decided that it would be too hard to maintain the character's connection to the first story, so I kept her old name.
I'm using different names for the languages, many of which come from canon. All languages are assumed to be regional rather than global.
* Common is now Chondathan (semi-canon, Common is supposed to be just a trade dialect but I make it the full language)
* Giant is called Jotun (canon)
* Elvish becomes Espruar, which is technically the alphabet and not the language
* Infernal is Lesser Baatezu, which is really a description of the kind of devils who speak this one of the four dialects of Infernal
* Celestial is called Enochian, which is actually a word from our world, supposedly the language of the angels discovered in the 16th century
* Dwarvish becomes Dethek (canon)
* Gnomish is now Gnim (canon)
* Halfling is called Luiric (canon)Pariah should be Fighter 2 based on her history, but instead she's Ranger 1 because it fits better with how I see her abilities developing. She has attributes, saves, skill proficiencies and spells that reflect Warlock rather than Ranger. Everyone in this campaign gets a free racial feat at level 1, and hers is my homebrew feat Winds of Stygia, which is Flames of Phlegethos but with cold instead of fire, and (optional) darkness instead of light.
All characters in this campaign will use Standard Array.
As an experiment, I'm going to try sharing character sheets at D&D Beyond at each level. Here is Pariah Level 1. Unfortunately, the Notes and Descriptions tabs don't display on shared characters. I had planned to put my comments about character builds, homebrew, etc. in Notes but I guess I'll have to clutter my Author's Notes with them. I found a thread from 2018 complaining about that very thing, so obviously that's not something that DDB is interested in fixing.
I'm going to try to be more aware of S and M components for the spellcasters, which is why she couldn't cast a VS spell with her hands full.
Chapter 2: Banished
Summary:
A year and a half after Elturel's return to the Material Plan, Pariah has traveled to Candlekeep on one of her regular visits. She finds a woman waiting outside the gate for her and is shocked to realize this woman appears to be the angel Zariel.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 17, 1496 (1 day after the New Moon)
Zariel quickly put up a hand to signal Pariah to be quiet as she glanced over at the three purple-clad monks who were watching them. They were probably out of earshot, but she still lowered her voice as she said, "I am not using that name while traveling through this area. I'm sure you understand why. Please call me Arina Dawnseeker." She looked at Lulu and rebuked her gently, "And you are supposed to be calling yourself Helmi."
"I know. I'm sorry," Lulu said in a voice that implied she wasn't that sorry. "I just wanted Pariah to know who I was, since I don't look the same."
Zariel gave her a warm smile. "It's fine, but we have to be careful. People might react badly if they realize who we are."
Pariah was looking back and forth between the two of them, her mouth hanging open. "What's going on?"
Zariel blew out a breath. "Well, I'm not sure. Would you like the long story or the short story?"
"The short story, I think."
Zariel nodded. "I was sent here to Candlekeep by a vision. I don't know why but, when I saw you coming down the road, I assumed it was to meet you."
"Talona's tits," Pariah groaned. "Look, I'm sure this is all important and the world is at risk and all that, but I've done the 'tool of the immortals' thing already and I'm not looking to do it again. Good luck, but I'm afraid you'll just have to go back to Heaven disappointed." She couldn't stop herself from mumbling, "Fucking immortals."
Zariel's face clouded, and she glanced towards the distant monks and back again. "I'm not actually allowed to return to Heaven," she said in a harsh whisper. "And I'm not an immortal anymore."
Pariah realized she been awfully brusque. She hesitated. Not your problem, she said to herself. Walk away. Go into Candlekeep and study. Then go back to Baldur's Gate and clear monsters out of the sewers or zombies out of Cliffside. You don't want to get involved with this fated crap again.
Lulu flew over and sat on her shoulder. "Please at least listen. I mean it would be great to travel together again, right?"
Pariah cast a pained look to the indifferent heavens. "Fine," she sighed towards Zariel. "I guess you better tell me the long version, then."
Zariel took a deep breath and released it, calming herself. She motioned to the ground. "Sit, please. Let me attend to your wound."
Pariah lowered herself to the ground, wincing at the pain of her injury. Zariel reached out, laid a hand over the wound and mumbled a prayer in Enochian. The pain faded. Pariah didn't want to remove her leathers to check, but her leg felt fine now.
"Your hand grew back," Pariah blurted out, then realized that had been a little blunt.
Zariel raised her hands to look at them. "Not exactly. This isn't the same body I had before. But it is nice to have both hands."
Lulu giggled. "I've never had hands before. I never realized how useful they are!" She reached up to grab Pariah's horn and lift herself up, climbing on top of Pariah's head to tug at her hair.
Pariah laughed and felt her irritation fading. "All right, so what's going on?"
Zariel leaned back against the wall behind her. "After I finished meeting with people, and ensured that Elturel had been returned to the Material Plane, Lulu and I went to Mount Celestia. I knew that my return would not be celebrated, but even I was surprised by how grim the atmosphere was."
She stared off into the distance as a cloud of sorrow formed around her. "I was taken before Lathander to answer for my crimes. He made it clear that he was there to judge me for my actions as an angel, not as a devil. He listed my sins, which were far more numerous than your friend described. Some came and spoke in my defense, though not many. Lathander admitted he should have intervened sooner, but I still chose the path that I chose and bore responsibility for my decisions."
She reached her right hand over to unconsciously fiddle with a gold signet ring on her left index finger. The bezel was engraved with a stylized road leading to a rising sun, the symbol of Lathander. Zariel continued, "He said that I had gone too far, that my sins could not simply be washed away. He banished me from the Seven Heavens and cast me down to live as a mortal."
"I came with her," Lulu piped up from her seat atop Pariah's head.
Zariel smiled sadly at her. "Yes. Lathander forgave her, said she would be welcome to return, but she refused to leave my side. She said that if I was cast out, that she was, too. Lathander gave her the choice to exist in both worlds. She can live in the Seven Heavens as a hollyphant, but her spirit can also travel here as an asteri and be with me."
"And I'll never leave you again," Lulu insisted.
Pariah asked, "So you're just mortal now? You just live and die like the rest of us?"
Zariel looked up towards the sky thoughtfully. "I honestly don't know. I have wondered that myself. I receive signs in my dreams. I believe they are from the angel Ezekar, which implies that Lathander has assigned me a guide. That gives me hope that Lathander has a larger plan for me. Perhaps if I show I have learned my lesson and repented for my sins, my divinity will be restored. It could even take multiple lifetimes, so I might be reborn as a mortal if I die. Or, perhaps it is as you say: I live and die like a mortal, and my soul goes to the afterlife I have earned." She grimaced and fiddled with her ring again. "I've decided that it doesn't matter. All I can do is remember the teachings of Lathander and be the best representative of him that I can. Follow the signs I'm given, but without thought as to how my actions might benefit me."
Pariah snorted. "That seems kind of vague and unhelpful of him."
Zariel's eyes narrowed. "You have a clearer picture of what the gods expect of you, do you?"
The tiefling couldn't help but grin. "Fair enough. I guess not." She thought about Zariel's story. "So how did you end up here at Candlekeep?"
Zariel went back to studying the sky. "We appeared in the temple of Lathander's Light in Dagger Falls."
That name didn't mean anything to Pariah. She had heard of Daggerford to the north, but Zariel had definitely said Dagger Falls.
The other woman continued, "The temple was empty at the time so there were no surprised priests to explain my presence to. At the time, I kept my name. The city was far enough away that they had not heard of the events in Elturel. At first I just lived my life. I had appeared with a few possessions." She gave Lulu another warm smile. "And Lu...er, Helmi had enough experience with mortals that I was able to figure out the basics of living among you: work, shelter, food, and so on. I prayed at the temple daily for guidance."
Her face grew more serious. "I am, at my core, a warrior, not a farmer or a shoemaker. I struggled with that at first. Did Lathander want me to be a pacifist or merely to be less aggressive? After all, I was a soldier of Lathander himself, so clearly he is not opposed to necessary violence. What I eventually settled on is that, although I try to avoid fighting, there are times when kind words are not enough so," she put a hand on the hilt of her longsword, "when necessary, I will fight."
She looked back at Pariah. "Over time, Lathander has blessed me with a hint of his divine power, such as the healing I just performed. And he has even passed some of that divine energy into my weapon, which glows with his light when I need to push back the darkness." She smiled lopsidedly. "By that I mean literal darkness when I can't see, not the metaphorical darkness of evil."
Zariel shifted to bring up her knee and clasp her hands around it. "After a few months, my dreams started to urge me to travel. I went south through the Dalelands and Cormyr, finding people I could help, sometimes with my combat skills but more often through other means. I always used my own name, though I added the surname Dawnseeker, and there was no trouble until I reached Proskur. Someone there was upset, asking me how I could bear the name of someone as evil as the devil who had destroyed Elturel. I hadn't realized I was getting so close to Elturgard, or at least the remnants of it. To avoid future conflict, I took the name Arina, the name of a Sossrim merchant I'd met a few towns back." She shook her head. "I don't like the dishonesty, but I suppose I'm not ready to face the complication that comes from carrying that name around the people I hurt."
She grew silent, staring at the ground, lost in thought. When she hadn't spoken for a while, Pariah prompted, "That doesn't explain how you got to Candlekeep."
Zariel looked up in surprise. "Oh, forgive me. I was lost in-." She waved off her comment. "Never mind. So I traveled through Amn, continuing to follow the visions. They eventually led me here. I didn't have a book to allow me entrance. I have received no more guidance, so I settled for camping outside the walls, hoping for another sign. I think the monks were going to chase me off in another day or two but," she smiled at Pariah, "here you are."
"Here I am," Pariah said without enthusiasm. "So what do you want from me?" That came out too harshly, but she didn't want to be drawn into another one of these schemes.
The other woman studied her carefully. "I don't know," she admitted. "Perhaps you are here to help guide me through my redemption. You gave a wonderful speech on the subject to me. I gather it's something you believe in?"
"Yes," Pariah said, drawing the word out uncertainly.
Zariel looked confused. "You don't sound very sure."
"Well, I mean I do believe in it as an idea, but I'm just not the best practitioner." Zariel's puzzlement increased, so Pariah added, "I'm having trouble allowing a friend the same opportunity at redemption. Her actions are hard for me to move past."
"Ah," Zariel nodded. "Philosophy is easy in theory but more challenging in practice."
"I suppose," Pariah nodded thoughtfully. "That still doesn't tell me what you want from me. You want to just sit around and talk about philosophy and ethics? I mean I'm actually fine with that, it's certainly better than being dragged back into the Nine Hells, but is that all you expect?"
Zariel turned her palms up. "I am not sure, since I don't know what Lathander wants from me."
"Fucking immortals," she sighed.
From her perch atop Pariah's head, Lulu stage whispered down to Zariel, "She says that a lot."
Zariel looked back and forth between Lulu and Pariah, radiating uncertainty. "My apologies, perhaps I have imposed. I understand if you don't want to help. I shall remain here and wait to see if I receive any other visions to guide me."
Pariah realized she was being too irritable. "No, that's not what I meant," she grumped. "Look, I'm here for a tenday. I have spare books so I can pay your way into Candlekeep. If you want to tag along and see if great inspiration strikes, that's fine." She cocked her head, causing Lulu to grab for her horn to keep her balance. Pariah continued, "Maybe you're not here to see me. Maybe you're here to see Little One."
"Who?" Zariel asked, her brow wrinkling.
"He's an ogre who changed his violent ways due to a magical, uh," she made vague motions towards her brow, "head thing. He has a lot of great insight about redemption."
Zariel considered the idea. "You might be right." She gave Pariah a faint smile. "Immortals are often vague in their signs to allow mortals to make their own choices rather than just blindly following commands. However, now that I am on the other side of it, I can appreciate the frustration."
Pariah smiled back. "So let's go in and get settled, and see if any lightning strikes to point you in a new direction."
"Yay!" cheered Lulu, leaping into the air to buzz around the two women. "I just know we are here to see you. I want to hear about everything that's happened since you got back."
As Zariel quickly packed up her camp, Pariah said, "You'll have to give up your weapons. And once inside, no armor, and no magic. Well, no combat magic, anyhow."
Zariel looked down at her longsword with a frown. "I apologize if this is an impertinent question, but can I trust that my equipment will be protected? I don't care about my javelins, but the sword carries the blessing of Lathander and I would be quite put out if it were to be stolen."
"Trust me, the monks don't tolerate any kind of theft," Pariah assured her. "Your stuff will be fine."
They returned to the front gate. Blyth was waiting patiently; there was no sign of the other two, who presumably had grown tired of waiting. Pariah had already retrieved a book from her pack and handed it over. "For her," she said, with a nod towards Zariel.
Blyth looked at the leather-bound volume. "Dark Souls: Ethics among the Vampires," she read aloud. She opened it and flipped through with a hint of a frown.
"None of the text is damaged," Pariah assured her. She knew the top edges of the pages were scorched, but the damage didn't encroach far down the page.
Blyth's pendant glowed. "This will be acceptable," she said hesitantly. To Zariel she said, "Welcome, seeker." She looked over at Lulu, who was hovering near Zariel's shoulder. "And you?" she asked expectantly.
"Me?" Lulu asked. "What about me?"
Blyth hesitated. To Zariel she said, "Is this some kind of familiar?"
Before Zariel could answer, Lulu said indignantly, "I'm her friend!"
The monk nodded. "I see. Then you will need to pay the admittance fee as well. Any book or scroll that we do not already have in our library. And you will have to turn over your weapon."
"Oh. Um..." Lulu looked over at Pariah helplessly.
"I'll take care of it," Pariah assured her. She dug into her pack to pull out her remaining three books. "Just a moment," she said as she examined the spines of all three. She hadn't expected this. She had been done with the vampire book, but she didn't want to give up any of the ones she had left. Still, it's not like they were just going to leave Lulu outside.
"I could turn invisible and sneak in," came Lulu's voice in Pariah's head.
Pariah jumped slightly at the unexpected telepathy, but then turned to Lulu and shook her head slightly. She knew better than to try to defy the Avowed. With some reluctance she turned over "The Collected Sermons of Cydul Freaniraheal", who had been an elven priest of Labelas Enoreth. She hadn't finished reading it yet, but it was the one of the three she was most willing to part with.
She handed it over and Blyth's pendant lit up. The woman smiled and carefully took Lulu's tiny sword. "Welcome, seeker." To Pariah, she said, "Have you acquainted them with the rules?"
"I will," Pariah assured her. She turned to Zariel and said very seriously, "Don't throw the books. That makes them very cranky."
Zariel gave her a puzzled smile in return. Blyth frowned at Pariah, not appreciating her attempt at humor, and then signaled to the tower and the gates began to open. Pariah nodded at her and then led Zariel into the keep.
Pariah stopped as they passed through the gate, taking a moment to drink in the scene before her. No matter how many times she came, Pariah always felt her heart flutter when she entered Candlekeep. She marveled at tower after tower filled with books and study rooms, the gathering of some of the finest minds in the Sword Coast, the maze of corridors beyond the Emerald Door that she still found baffling even though she had been led through them countless times -- she suspected the hallway layout changed from time to time.
She took a deep breath and let it out, realizing she had a big grin on her face. She saw that Zariel and Lulu were watching her expectantly. "Uh, so, we can stay for a tenday and then we'll have to leave. I already told you about no armor and no combat magic. No theft or any other crimes. I'm pretty sure the monks see everything."
She waved to the left. "That way is a bathhouse, the infirmary, and a temple to Oghma. I guess I don't need the infirmary, but a bath might be nice after supper." She pointed to the towers along the opposite walls. "Reading rooms and a few other facilities in there. You can get access to a small part of the library. The main keep is past that green door there, but you need special permission. Are you planning to study anything in particular?"
Zariel looked thoughtfully at the Emerald Door. "I'm afraid I don't know. I suppose I will have to pray for guidance and see if something in particular is expected of me." She turned back to Pariah. "What about you? What are you here to study? Perhaps that is my path."
Pariah shook her head. "Nothing special. I'd planned to get some more practice reading Jotun, talk to a few friends, and then just read whatever I get the urge for."
Zariel looked a little disappointed. "I see. Well then, perhaps prayer is my best option. Is the temple to Oghma the only one here?"
Pariah had turned to the right from the gate and started walking. "That's the Hearth, basically a dining hall. There are little shrines to Gond, Denier and Milil. Nothing for Lathander, though the priests in the House of the Binder -- that's Oghma's temple -- don't mind people praying to other gods there. Well, other than ones like Bane or Cyric."
"That will do nicely. Oghma is an old ally of Lathander's."
"Let's get our room at the House of Rest," she pointed to the building past the Hearth. "Then we can either get something to eat or you can go pray or whatever."
She led the way into the lobby of the House of Rest. "Hello, Saeryl," she smiled at the elven woman behind the desk.
"Pariah!" the woman greeted her warmly. "Has it been a month already?"
"A little over. I've been busy. There are two of us this time."
"Three," said Lulu petulantly.
"Sorry, three, though she doesn't take up much space," Pariah grinned up at the tiny angel.
Pariah signed her name to the ledger and then handed the pen over the Zariel, who signed in as Arina Dawnseeker and added Helmi below that. Saeryl glanced at the names and then wrote a 3 next to each one. "Room three," she said. "Nobody in there at the moment, so I don't know who your future roommates will be, if any. We aren't very full so you might get the room to yourself."
Pariah normally didn't mind roommates, but the three of them might need to have private conversations so an empty room would be best for them.
The room looked the same as every other room at the Hearth: two bunk beds, a table with a basin and ewer, and a pair of two-drawer dressers. They dropped off their backpacks and slipped out of their armor while Lulu darted around, exploring every corner of the room.
Pariah put on trousers and a sleeveless doublet, both of gray wool, and a wide leather belt. Although simple in design, they were of good quality. She didn't like spending on herself, but she had learned that quality clothing lasted longer and cost less in the long run than the cheap stuff she had been used to. She wore no shirt beneath the doublet, leaving bare the web of scar tissue that covered her arms. She had decided a long time ago she wasn't going to be ashamed of the remnants of her burns.
Zariel changed into a long-sleeved white blouse, a red ankle-length skirt, and a red and gold sash around her waist. The sash had a buckle emblazoned with the symbol of Lathander.
Pariah said, "Should we go eat first? Little One might still be in the Hearth."
"That sounds delightful," Zariel said. "Lead on."
Notes:
Lulu means "pearl" in Arabic, though that's probably not why the DIA designers named her that. Helmi means "pearl" in Finnish.
Zariel is a scourge aasimar, though without Darkvision because that makes no sense for an aasimar. Having her come to the Material Plane as an aasimar as part of her redemption arc was an idea I came across on reddit. She's a paladin who will, not surprisingly, take Oath of Redemption. She has a custom background to give her the same proficiencies she had as an archdevil (Intimidation and Persuasion). Her longsword is magic and will automatically upgrade as she levels. Right now it's just a moon-touched sword. Since aasimar don't have racial feats in Xanathar's, I gave her Magic Initiate (Wizard) so she could get Find Familiar for Lulu.
Of course, I didn't need to tie Lulu to a game mechanic, but the mechanics of a familiar fit her relationship to Zariel better in this story than the sidekick mechanics from the first story.
Here is the link to Zariel Level 1. Note that her Intelligence of 8 doesn't reflect stupidity; it reflects cramming an immortal mind into a mortal brain. In addition, she has lived in a different environment so her knowledge skills like History would be poor.
Lulu is a homebrewed celestial familiar I created called an asteri. I'm running her telepathy differently than in the first story. There I treated it like mind reading, which it's not, because it fit the story. Now I'm running it RAW where you communicate only if you consciously send a mental message.
Chapter 3: Dream of Despair
Summary:
Zariel and Pariah explore Candlekeep, seeking a reason why Zariel might have been called there.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 17, 1496 (1 day after the New Moon)
Zariel stared into her mug thoughtfully. "Then what do you think is the role of punishment?"
The ogre called Little One rumbled, "Punishment should be a tool to change behavior, that of the individual or that of the society. Too often punishment is used as retribution for a crime rather than as an instrument of progress. In the words of Shon Yia, 'Justice is the encouragement of positive growth, not the sword of bloody vengeance.' Victims often want payback, they want the criminal to suffer, even if that suffering merely breeds more crime and misery."
Pariah and Zariel sat in chairs that had been pulled in front of Little One's reserved seat in the Hearth. Pariah had been listening with interest as the other two discussed sin and guilt and justice. She hadn't had much insight to offer and was content to sip ale and enjoy their conversation. Lulu had gotten bored quickly and was flitting about the room watching other people and sometimes blatantly eavesdropping on their conversations.
Zariel continued, "Aren't some crimes so terrible that the criminal deserves to suffer?"
The ogre shook his head. "'Deserve' is a dangerous word. It divides people into groups, and makes it easier to decide some of those groups shouldn't be treated in a civilized manner. Suffering is empty if it doesn't bring about change, and basking in the pain of another never brings about anything positive, no matter what that person has done. It simply breeds more pain, more evil."
Zariel considered his words. "And if someone is beyond change, is beyond the point of good behavior, then what should be done?"
Little One gave her a gentle smile. "I believe that nobody is beyond change. However, I'm not so naïve as to assume that means everyone is capable of good in the present moment. If a person is a danger to others, then incarceration, banishment or other method of removing others from danger is reasonable. On the other hand, throwing someone in a hole for years with no attempt at rehabilitation doesn't solve the problem either. And refusing to acknowledge someone's personal journey towards decency when meting out punishment misses opportunities to return someone wonderful to the world."
"But how can you know?" she asked earnestly. "Without the insight of the gods, how can you know if someone has been redeemed?"
"That is the challenging question, isn't it? It is easy for one to lie, to claim regret and swear growth. And even if someone is truthful in that moment, who's to say that, when faced with old temptations, one might not fall back into old patterns?"
Zariel's face grew dark and she said nothing, lost in her own thoughts.
"My apologies," Little One said. "I fear I might have crossed a line."
"No, not at all," she said quickly, forcing a false smile.
He put a massive hand on her shoulder. "I understand you are not comfortable sharing your past with me, but I truly believe there is no sin so great that one cannot find a path back to the light. Even if we stumble, as long as we don't lose sight of the objective, we can find new life."
Zariel patted his hand absently. "I appreciate that. Many of my actions were driven by my sense of righteousness, which is why sometimes the line between light and dark seems blurred to me. I genuinely believed I was a servant of order until others showed me my mistakes. And even then, I almost didn't listen."
"All we can do," Little One assured her, "is be the best person we can be today. Don't ignore your mistakes, but don't be paralyzed by them either. If we fall into the trap of self-flagellation, we lose the opportunity to bring joy to the world around us."
Zariel turned to Pariah. "You're right. I do like him."
Little One laughed. "And on that positive note, I think I will take my leave for the evening."
His chair creaked as he stood to tower over the rest of the room. He carefully made his way through the Hearth, returning good nights from the other patrons. He exited, closing the door behind him, and Pariah leaned back to take another sip from her mug.
"What a fascinating gentleman," Zariel said, still looking towards the door.
"I enjoy talking to him," Pariah agreed. "He has such an unusual past compared to the other sages. It gives him a unique perspective, especially in regard to morality." She studied Zariel. "Do you think he might be the reason you are here?"
Zariel turned back to her, a pensive frown on her face. "I'm not sure but, to be honest, I doubt it. He provides interesting insight, and I look forward to speaking with him again, but I didn't feel the touch of fate like I did when I saw you coming down the road towards me."
Pariah couldn't help but make a disgusted grunt, which she tried to disguise by turning it into a cough. "Well, you can explore the keep tomorrow and see if anyone seems...fated." Please don't let it be me, she thought to herself. "And maybe you'll get a sign at the House of the Binder."
The other woman nodded. "Yes. Perhaps I'll head over there now." She started to rise, but Pariah put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Was there something else?" Zariel asked.
"Maybe," Pariah said. It was something she had thought of when Zariel and Little One had been talking. She wanted to talk to Zariel privately, and the Hearth might actually be the best way to do that. The dinner crowd was noisy and that could cover a quiet conversation. Some of the study rooms were more private, but she had always wondered how much the Avowed listened in.
She leaned in to Zariel, beckoning her to come closer. The other woman did so, looking puzzled. Pariah opened her mouth, when Lulu suddenly zipped over to whisper loudly, "Are we sharing secrets now?"
Pariah laughed. "Kind of," she said. She didn't mind Lulu listening in, and suspected Zariel would share the conversation with her anyhow. Turning back to Zariel, Pariah said quietly, "I have some questions about infernal pacts."
"Oh," Zariel said, and her mood darkened.
Pariah was surprised by her reaction. "Unless it's not something you want to talk about. I could ask someone else."
"No, no," Zariel said quickly. "I dislike being reminded of my unpleasant past, but it is a part of who I've been. I had a similar distaste for reminders of my celestial self during my time in Avernus. Please continue."
"Well," Pariah began hesitantly, unsure if Zariel was truly being open or just being polite, "it's just that you know about pacts from the other side, and you were responsible for breaking mine. I thought you might be able to help me understand something."
"Of course."
"What you did," she waved vaguely at her burn scars, "seemed to work. I lost my magic and other abilities, and I haven't heard his voice since. I was quite content with what my life became. And, well, thank you, by the way. I never got a chance to say that before."
Zariel smiled. "I'm glad I could help. And, yes, the destruction of your contract should have done exactly that." Her expression was questioning.
Pariah showed her hand to Zariel. "A few weeks ago I started to be able to do this." She summoned the frost to crawl across the uneven surface of the burn scars on her fingers. "And then today, when I fought the spiders, I was able to attack them with magic. I'm afraid that somehow he's reasserting control."
Zariel studied the coruscating rime with a concerned frown. She put up a hand, mumbled something in Enochian, and continued to stare at Pariah's small demonstration of magic.
Slowly she said, "I see no overt infernal signature, and I sense no fiendish presence around you other than the echo common to tieflings. Pacts for magical powers don't always remove the magic when broken. It depends on how the contract is written. Sometimes the recipient of magic keeps it but cannot gain more power, and sometimes they can continue to expand the magic without limit."
Pariah still remembered every word of the contract that had been written on her body. As the thin layer of ice melted off her fingers, she said, "The magic was definitely tied directly to the sacrifice of my soul. If it's coming back, then does that mean...?"
"I don't know," Zariel admitted. "My expertise is with beings of the Upper and Lower Planes, not the mechanics of magic." She cocked her head and added thoughtfully, "Perhaps that's my true reason for being here: not for you to help me, but for me to help you. When I pray tonight, I will ask for guidance."
Lulu said, "I'm sure it's fine," though the tone of her voice didn't match the optimism of her words. "And even if something's wrong, I'm sure Za...um...Arina can fix it."
Again Pariah thought gloomily about visiting Sylvira, but that was a decision for tomorrow.
Kythorn 18, 1496 (2 days after the New Moon)
The morning light was streaming in when Pariah woke up the next morning. She sat up with a tired grunt and looked around the small room. She was alone, Zariel and Lulu nowhere to be seen. She couldn't see the sun's position through the high window, so wasn't sure how late it was. She slipped off the top bunk to splash some water on her face and then dress for the day.
She headed into the lobby, nodding at the monk at the desk who was scribbling in a book, before heading through the door into the Hearth. The place wasn't crowded, so she guessed it was late morning. She did see Zariel at one table, idly running her spoon around the edge of a mostly empty bowl of oatmeal. Lulu was sitting on the table next to her, her legs hanging off the edge.
They both looked up as Pariah entered. Lulu leapt into the air and flew over. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said brightly as she flew circles around Pariah's head.
"Morning," Pariah said to her with a grin. "Morning," she repeated to Zariel, who had looked up to give her a distracted smile.
Behind the bar stood a slim, half-elven man with blond hair braided into rings, and a severely sunburned face. He was dressed in the purple robes of the monks, and his name was Himo. "The usual?" he asked.
"Please," Pariah said, stopping to leave a few silver coins on the bar before joining Zariel.
The other woman was staring into her bowl. Pariah said, "You all right?"
"Hmm?" Zariel said, looking up. "Oh, yes, forgive me. I'm lost in thought." Her brow furrowed. "I had a dream last night and I'm trying to decide what it meant."
Pariah suppressed a groan. She was barely awake and already being pestered by fate. "What was it?" she asked politely.
"I looked down at a barren and lonely landscape covered in deep snow. There was a terrible loneliness, but I wasn't alone. Two others were with me, though I couldn't see who they were."
"I was one," Lulu insisted.
Zariel gave her a warm smile. "I'm sure you were." She glanced contemplatively at Pariah for a moment before continuing. "The sky was black and the air so cold it made my fingers and toes hurt. I saw ten lights on the ground below me. A brutal storm blew in and savaged the land, and an evil force could be felt at the heart of the maelstrom. It tore at me, battering me around. I lost my way, couldn't tell up from down, and when the storm cleared I saw the lights were dimmer. I descended, hoping the lights meant warmth and life, but my fear grew because I knew that hungry beasts waited for me. The lights continued to dim until I was in complete darkness, and then I woke up." She fiddled with her ring absent-mindedly. "I suppose I will go talk to the priests at the House of the Binder and see if they have any insight."
Pariah made a thoughtful noise. "Cold, dark, snowy -- that doesn't narrow it down much. Lots of places up north like that."
Zariel frowned. "It was more than that. Unnaturally dark. Unnaturally cold. And the loneliness, something about that seemed important. It wasn't just empty; it was abandoned. By everything." Her eyes fell on her ring and then widened. "That's it! I couldn't feel the touch of Lathander, as though the sun had been taken away."
That detail nagged at Pariah. It was familiar. She liked hearing stories from travelers, even though most of them were obviously made up, and something about the sun going away triggered a memory.
The half-elven man put a mug of coffee and a plate of sausage and bread in front of Pariah. She looked up at him. "Himo, does that sound familiar to you? Some place where the sun is gone. I feel like I've heard of that."
He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. In a voice much deeper than one might expect from someone of his build, he said, "Yes, I think there is someplace up north. Ten-Towns, isn't it? Icewind Dale?"
"Ten-Towns?" Zariel asked, her interest piqued. "That could explain the ten lights I saw. What happened there?"
He shook his head. "I can't remember the story. Something about eternal winter and darkness." He stared up at the ceiling again. "Let's see, maybe ask for Balimar Budd at the Emerald Door. He's studies the northern countries." His brow furrowed in thought. "If he's here. He takes a lot of trips up there. If not, maybe one of his assistants could answer."
"Thanks," Pariah said and he went back behind the bar. To Zariel, she said, "I haven't met Balimar Budd but we can ask the Keeper." She dug into her breakfast.
Zariel watched her eat, still lost in thought. "Do you know where Ten-Towns is?"
Pariah shook her head. "North," she said through a mouthful of food, and then put up a finger to ask Zariel to wait until she'd swallowed. "I haven't heard of Ten-Towns, but I have heard of Icewind Dale. It's way up north, past Waterdeep and Neverwinter. It's probably at least a couple of weeks travel by ship. Longer by land."
"Ah," said Zariel in disappointment. "Well, if that is where I must go, then I will go there."
Pariah bit off a piece of sausage and chewed in silence as she considered an alternative method of travel she knew about. Still, using that would imply that she was going along, and she wasn't about to get wrapped up in another one of the gods' schemes, much less let fate drag her hundreds of miles away from home.
The gray-haired human man dabbed sweat from his brow with his left hand as his right hand flipped through the handwritten pages of a journal. He didn't seem to be hot or nervous, just sweaty, and had been constantly dabbing at his face during their entire visit. "Yes, here we are. Midwinter 1494, the sun went down and never came back up, but every night around midnight an aurora appears across the sky. They get pre-dawn light during the midday period, but the sun itself never rises above the surrounding mountains. I visited there, hmm," he tapped the desk thoughtfully, "about six months after it happened, before the snows had closed the southern pass. Ten-Towners are a tough people and they were grimly enduring what they call the Everlasting Rime. Since then, I had been corresponding with a priest there named, hmm," he flipped through his book again, "Delivon Ludwig in Bryn Shander. However I haven't gotten a response from him in several months."
The man was Balimar Budd, the local expert in the northern regions such as Icewind Dale, Hartsvale and Sossal. He frowned down at his book. "I've looked into making a trip back up there to study the phenomenon, but the road is closed and virtually no ships travel up there. You might be able to find transport from Luskan to the dock at Revel's End, but the Sea of Moving Ice is more dangerous than ever. And I hear that some brave the land route despite the deep snow, but that's probably even less safe. I'm afraid I'm getting a little old for that kind of adventure."
Zariel listened attentively to all of this, her chin on her fist. "Does anyone know the cause of this endless winter?"
He leaned back, dabbed at his forehead, and said, "The leading theory is it's a curse visited by Auril the Frostmaiden, the goddess of winter's fury."
Pariah suppressed a groan, and whispered to herself, "Fucking immortals." Lulu, sitting on her shoulder, giggled.
Balimar continued, not having heard her. "Her reasons are unknown, though it may be related to her falling out with the other Gods of Fury: Umberlee, Talos and Malar. There are also other theories, though. Some think the Arcane Brotherhood is behind this phenomenon. They have certainly shown a lot of interest in the area, though that interest is more recent than the beginning of the Everlasting Rime. I've also heard rumors that it was caused by the frost giants, or by an artifact called the Crenshinibon, possibly wielded by the Ghost King or by a dwarven necromancer from Clan Battlehammer." He sighed heavily. "Without any contact, or any safe way to travel there myself, I'm afraid I don't have much information."
Zariel said, "You said you were corresponding with a priest. Had he reported any changes to the situation?"
Balimar flipped more pages in his journal. Running his finger down the page he said, "Let's see. Still no sun. Temperatures getting colder. Wild animals roaming closer to the towns. Food supplies were good -- there are plenty of fish and game animals -- but nutrition is poor. The dwarves have been growing a little produce underground in Dwarven Valley, and there is a bit from what little trade is left. Heat from wood and whale oil, both plentiful enough in the last letter. Growing despair. The towns have started offering sacrifices to Auril, hoping to appease her anger."
"Sacrifices?" Pariah interjected. "What kind of sacrifices?"
"Well," he said slowly. "Some towns put out food. Others go a night without heat." He hesitated under the intensity of her gaze and then added, "And some of the towns are sacrificing people."
"And has it helped?" she asked skeptically.
"No one is sure. I know that Delivon and," he consulted his notes again, "Mishann, a priest of Amaunator, have opposed the practice."
"Amaunator?" Zariel piped up. "There is a temple to Amaunator there?"
"In Bryn Shander," he nodded. "Along with a temple to the Triad."
"Is that important?" Pariah asked, confused by her enthusiasm.
Zariel nodded thoughtfully. "Amaunator and Lathander are...well..." She pursed her lips. "Well, it's hard to put into common terms. They are one but they are separate. They are different beings, but manifestations of one another." She waved off the explanation. "The point is, it seems like a sign."
"OK," Pariah said, confused.
Zariel turned back to Balimar, "I might be going there to investigate."
"Are you?" he said, his eyes lighting up. "I would be very interested in whatever you could find out! But are you certain you want to make such a dangerous journey?"
She gave him a warm smile. "It appears to be my destiny. Perhaps Lathander wants me to find out why the people of Ten-Towns have been denied his blessings. The more I think about the idea, the more certain I am that this is my path. You say the best way would be a ship from Luskan?"
"Yes. You could travel to Baldur's Gate and catch a ship from there to Luskan, and then find passage on a supply ship to Revel's End. I'm just not sure how often ships run up that far north."
"I will trust Lathander to light the way," she said. "Thank you for your help. I will keep careful notes about what I find to aid in your research."
"I would be very grateful," he beamed.
"Is there anything else you think might be helpful to us if we travel there?"
He tapped the page of his journal absent-mindedly. "No, I don't think so. I have a lot of information, but I'm not sure knowing the history of town speakers over the last hundred years would be helpful to you, for example." He trailed off in thought and then his face brightened. "Oh, I have several maps of the area. I'd be happy to part with one."
"That would be very helpful," Zariel smiled at him.
"Just a moment," he said as he started flipping through the pile of papers he had brought with him.
Zariel looked up at the ceiling of the study room thoughtfully. This was one of the rooms in the towers that were open to the public for general studies. It's where Balimar had suggested meeting them, rather than having them escorted through the main keep.
She said, "I suppose it's too late to leave today. If I left tomorrow, how long is it to Baldur's Gate?"
"Five days," Pariah told her.
Zariel nodded. "Then look for ships north, eventually reaching Luskan and finding a transport to Icewind Dale. A couple of weeks you said?"
Pariah shrugged. "That was a guess."
"Aha!" Balimar crowed, pulling a small sheet of parchment out of a stack. "There you are. A bit old, but not much changes up there." He laid it out on the table and they leaned over it.
"The Spine of the World," he said, tracing the mountains along the southern part of the map. He pointed to a road that came through the mountains. "Ten Trail, but that's blocked by snow." He pointed to a white area to the east and north, and then to a sea to the northwest. "Reghed Glacier. Sea of Moving Ice. Revel's End is here," he indicated an unmarked point on the far northern edge of the shore of the Sea of Moving Ice.
Toward the middle of the map was a spot marked Kelvin's Cairn. He pointed a bit south of it. "Dwarven Valley, home of Clan Battlehammer." He waved vaguely towards a collection of labeled dots south of that. "Ten-Towns."
Ten Trail split into roads going east and west; at the intersection was the town of Bryn Shander. Four towns were to the west and five to the east. There were also three lakes and a handful of rivers that snaked through the landscape.
Zariel observed, "That's quite a long walk from Revel's End. And I don't see a road."
Pariah added, "And why isn't Revel's End marked if it's the only port?"
"Well," he said hesitantly, "it's less of a port and more of a prison. Sea trade wasn't common in Icewind Dale because of the dangers of the Sea of Moving Ice, though it was an effective way to supply the remote prison. With the main road now effectively closed to caravans, they've been forced to use the supply port at Revel's End. There is a trail from there to Termalaine, though it's not well traveled."
Zariel didn't seem bothered by the information; she just nodded. "And we may keep this map?"
"Please. Any information you can bring me from the area would be valuable."
"Thank you," she said as she folded the map and got to her feet. "I suppose I will be leaving in the morning, then."
They shook hands with the sage and exited the study room, making their way out of the tower into the Court of Air. Zariel walked in thoughtful silence.
"You're coming with us, right?" Lulu asked brightly from Pariah's shoulder.
Pariah grunted. "Fighting a god? No thanks. I've done that nonsense before."
Lulu jumped up to hover in front of Pariah's face, flying backwards as the tiefling walked forward. "But there are people who are starving and cold. They need your help. You like helping people."
"There are plenty of people who need help closer to home," Pariah insisted.
"But these people are victims of one of those fucking immortals," Lulu said with exaggerated seriousness.
Pariah stopped in her tracks. She's pretty sure that's the first time she'd heard Lulu swear, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Well, that's true," she admitted.
"And she's not immortal," Lulu pointed to Zariel, who had stopped to listen to the conversation. "So you wouldn't mind helping her."
"She's being advised by an immortal," Pariah replied, though she felt her resolve weakening.
Zariel cocked her head. "Do you really hate the immortals that much?"
"No," Pariah admitted with a grimace. "But I do hate the way they use us mortals and then throw us away."
Zariel looked as though she had been struck, and she dropped her eyes in shame.
"I didn't mean you," Pariah said quickly. "I mean, not exactly. I was talking about Levistus and Tymora and Torm and whoever else was manipulating us to help Elturel. I resent not being allowed to make my own choices. Instead we were tricked into it. I'd rather they just asked."
"I understand," Zariel said sadly. "And you're right. I realize that is something we do, and I've certainly gained a different perspective on the matter in this new form. Helmi, stop bothering her. She has already been a great help." She turned to walk towards the Hearth and Lulu flew after her with a sad backward glance at Pariah.
"I'm not saying I won't go," Pariah grumbled reluctantly. Zariel stopped and turned to look at her. Pariah quickly added, "I'm not saying I will, either. It's just-" She growled in frustration. "Look, if I did go, then I know of a faster way to get there."
"Oh?" Zariel asked.
Reluctantly, Pariah said, "Yeah. There's a wizard who owes me a favor."
Notes:
Pariah's ray of frost is technically a racial spell, but I've always treated it as one of her warlock cantrips. She didn't have it before she agreed to the pact, and it disappeared after her pact was broken.
Delivon Ludwig is from Storm King's Thunder. I'll be including a few details from that module in Bryn Shander, since ROTF is a little sparse. Crenshinibon and the Ghost King are from the adventure Legacy of the Crystal Shard. Balimar is my own creation.
The relationship between Lathander and Amaunator is the usual Forgotten Realms confusing and contradictory canon. They are two gods, but they are the same god, but one is an aspect of the other, but they are actually completely separate. Rather than try to establish my own canon, it was easier to just pull the old "Too complicated for mortals to comprehend."
There's a map on the Icewind Dale page of the Forgotten Realms wiki. Unfortunately, I can't link to the map image directly.
Chapter 4: Unwanted Encounters
Summary:
Pariah reluctantly prepares to help Zariel and Lulu to investigate Icewind Dale.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 19, 1496 (3 days after the New Moon)
Zariel had wanted to leave right away but Pariah insisted on staying one more day. She was irritated that she was getting basically no study time this trip, and considered making Zariel wait the full tenday but, now that her mind was on this new idea, she knew she wouldn't have been able to concentrate anyhow.
However, she did have a few loose ends to tie up.
An old elven man led her through the maze of the main keep beyond the Emerald Door. He was the oldest elf she had ever seen, with thinning, gray hair and a bent posture. He must be more than six or seven hundred years old; her mind couldn't even grasp how many major events he had witnessed in his long life.
Despite his advanced years, he led her at a brisk pace through the confusing layout. She was convinced that the monks led people on random walks through the keep to ensure nobody could mentally map out the inside. As with her other guides, his footfalls were nearly imperceptible and he didn't speak during the trip. The oppressive silence of the interior of the keep weighed heavily on her.
He stopped at a door she recognized, turned and gestured towards it with a polite smile. Pariah gave him a nod of thanks and then reached for the door handle. She took a breath to brace herself, and then turned the handle and entered.
The room always looked the same: a circular chamber with arched but shuttered windows, and walls lined with packed bookcases. Tables were covered in a confusing array of jars, alchemical equipment and other devices, but she had come to appreciate that there was an order to it. Every object was always in the same place.
"Pariah!" called out a cheerful voice. "It's so good to see you again."
Pariah turned to face the middle-aged tiefling woman who was approaching her, hand extended. "Sylvira," she said with a forced smile. "Thank you for seeing me."
The woman looked superficially similar to Pariah, but she was a tiefling of the Asmodeus bloodline while Pariah was one of the Levistus bloodline. Sylvira's skin was dull red, her eyes had dark irises, and her long hair was jet black. Wide, ridged horns curved sideways around her head like a crown.
As Sylvira took one hand in a vigorous handshake, Pariah waved her other hand at a green, warty humanoid eyeing her from one of the tables. "Hi, Jezebel."
The quasit grunted in return and continued to eye her suspiciously.
"I'm afraid I can't give you too much time," Sylvira warned her. "Skoda Varnaster tells me he's come across a rare volume about the early years of the demon Arzathan. He's given me a very narrow window to study it."
"I understand," Pariah said, trying to keep the relief out of her voice. Anything that would keep Sylvira from keeping her here for days seemed like a lucky break.
"So, what can I do for you?"
Pariah was suddenly hesitant to speak. There was something about saying this out loud to Sylvira that would make it real, more real that admitting it to Zariel. She was afraid of finding out why her magic was returning, and acknowledging it like this frightened her.
As she stood there, her mouth open soundlessly, the seconds stretching on, Sylvira began to look puzzled. Pariah finally blurted out, "A few weeks ago, I started to be able to do this."
She held out a hand and did her trick of allowing frost to dance along the burn scars on her fingers. Suddenly she felt foolish. This was a trivial example of power. She was overreacting, wasting the other woman's time. She should just leave.
"Oh, my," Sylvira said, her welcoming smile having been replaced with a worried frown. "That is troubling."
Pariah wasn't sure if she was joking or not, but the other woman hurried over to one of her tables to snatch up a small, black ceramic jar. She opened it, dipped a finger in, and rubbed red pigment around her eyes. She came back over, sketched a circle in the air around Pariah's hand, and stared at the demonstration intently.
Pariah kept up the magic. Sylvira reached out to grab the invisible ring she'd drawn in the air and moved it up Pariah's arm and across her body, continuing to stare through it like it was a lens. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "How long?" she asked.
"A little over a month."
"When exactly?" Sylvira demanded. "What day? What time?"
Pariah stammered, trying to remember. "Early Tarsakh," she said. "Maybe the 7th or the 8th? I'm not sure. And I first noticed it in the afternoon, though I'm not sure what time. Maybe two hours after midday?"
Sylvira gave an annoyed grunt. "Is it getting more powerful?"
"I think so. I can do something else."
"Show me," she insisted.
"Well, it's offensive magic. I can't do that here."
The other tiefling waved off her excuse with irritation. "This is my lab. I make the rules here." She frowned. "I mean, you aren't going to blow out a wall or something, are you?"
"I don't think so. It's just a beam of cold energy."
"Show me." She pointed to a wall.
Pariah took a breath, summoned the cold from inside her, and put out her left hand. A white beam shot out and coated the stone with frost. A cold aura whirled around her and the lights dimmed, causing Sylvira to look around in surprise.
"Oh, yeah," Pariah said. "That's kind of a side effect. I used to be able to shoot cold like that, but I didn't have the other stuff."
Sylvira speared her with an intense gaze as the lighting returned to its previous brightness. "It's different than before?"
"No," Pariah shook her head, but then hesitated. "Well, yes. I mean sort of. Some of it feels familiar. Some of it feels different."
The other woman continued to tap her chin. "This may seem like a silly question but have you contacted Levistus? Asked for your power back?"
"No!" Pariah said, offended that she'd even ask. "Of course not!"
Sylvira gave a half-apologetic shrug. "I had to ask. Have you been studying magic? Or trying to get your powers back in other ways?"
"No. I don't want the magic back at that price."
The other woman went silent, lost in thought. Pariah added, "Someone mentioned that, in some contracts, the magic doesn't go away even if the contract is broken. But my contract wasn't like that, right?"
Sylvira didn't seem to hear her at first, but then she shook her head. "No, the power was definitely tied to your soul." She looked at Pariah's burn scars. "Have you looked to see if the text of the contract is returning?"
"I've looked at what parts of me I can see and there's nothing."
"Strip. Let me look at the rest of you."
"No!" Pariah said indignantly. "I mean, no thank you." She'd been subject to one of Sylvira's physical examinations and didn't want another. "I just wanted your opinion as an expert in infernal pacts."
Sylvira's mouth tightened in irritation but she didn't press the matter. "I don't detect any infernal influence. It's possible you've tapped into the previous source of your power without Levistus's permission. He locked the door, but you snuck in a window. However, I can't be sure."
"Is he going to be mad?" Pariah wondered.
The other woman gave her the strangest look and then laughed. "I suppose he might be, if he notices. It's hard to tell. Is he going to send a mob of devils to rend you limb from limb? Probably not. Not really his style. But he also might not realize anything is happening for years."
There was a gentle knock at the door, which opened to reveal a dark-skinned human woman.
"Drat," Sylvira said. "I have to go. Come back tomorrow and we'll talk more."
Pariah opened her mouth to say she was leaving Candlekeep, but snapped it shut. She didn't want to listen to the other woman try to convince her to stay. She just smiled and nodded.
The two of them exited the lab and Sylvira closed the door behind her. The old elven guide was waiting outside. Sylvira gave a grunt of goodbye and then hurried off with the other monk. Pariah's guide gestured towards her and led her through the keep and back through the Emerald Door.
Pariah really didn't care about the magic. It was useful, but not something she needed. The only one of her previous gifts she missed was her universal reading ability. With that in mind, her next stop was the book shop in the Court of Air. Here visitors could buy copies of more common volumes kept in the library. She skimmed a few volumes but anything written in languages she didn't know still remained gibberish to her. She bought a book written in Dethek, the language of the dwarves of the Sword Coast. It was apparently a harsh criticism of the priesthood of Berronar Truesilver. She couldn't read it, but had the futile hope that, if she tried hard enough, her reading skill would suddenly come back.
She also bought a blank notebook. Farima had often suggested keeping a journal to help her with her writing practice, but up until now she hadn't thought her life to be interesting enough to bother. This trip, however, might be worth documenting.
Finally, she sat down in the Hearth to write a letter to Rowan, in care of the Lady's Hall in Baldur's Gate. She spent a lot of time trying to decide how much to include in her correspondence, but finally decided against mentioning Zariel. She would have told Rowan herself without hesitation, but she was concerned about who else might read the letter.
Instead, she said she'd met "an old friend from our last adventure together". She told of their plans to visit Icewind Dale and said she'd try to follow up from there, though she was skeptical that there was any mail service that far north. Along the Sword Coast, the priests of Deneir maintained a robust postal system so she just had to drop the letter off with the front desk along with a few coins to cover the delivery.
While Pariah had been running her errands, Zariel had said she was going to speak with Balimar again and try to learn more about the state of Icewind Dale. She had been praying frequently over the last day, though had received no more insight. She interpreted that to mean she was on the right path.
Pariah finally ran out of reasons to delay the trip. She had changed her mind about accompanying Zariel at least four times since she had agreed to go, but always grudgingly came back to the idea of helping the people who were suffering. If this had been going on for two years, that implied nobody else was doing much other than randomly murdering people in the name of an evil god who might or might not want sacrifices. That wasn't fair to the residents, and if she could do something about it, she felt like she should.
She left the Hearth, destined for the House of the Binder, but was surprised to find Zariel and Lulu sitting on a bench in the Court of Air.
"Hey," she said as she approached. "I guess I'm ready to go. Sorry for the delay."
"It's fine," Zariel said with a tight smile. "Impatience is one of the vices that I'm trying to overcome."
Pariah was unsure if that had been meant as a dig or not, but was pretty sure it hadn't been. She looked up at the sky to judge the time; it was mid-afternoon, too early to delay the trip a bit longer by suggesting supper. "Let's get our stuff and go. We can be in Icewind Dale by nightfall."
They returned to their room in the House of Rest to don their armor and repack their things. From there, they headed to the front gate. Pariah poked her head into the gatehouse to find the same three monks who had greeted them on their arrival. "We're leaving by griffon," she said. She had arranged that earlier in the day, since it was the only way to Traxigor's tower. "Can we get our weapons back?"
Blyth said, "Yes, but someone will have to accompany you to the launch platform."
That's what Pariah had figured the answer would be. The monks returned their weapons, including Lulu's tiny sword, and the dragonborn woman escorted them across the courtyard towards one of the towers and up the long, spiral stairs. The door at the top led out to a bare roof with no railing or crenellations, only a crescent-shaped wooden platform that extended out from one edge. Two griffons were already waiting, their bird heads whipping around to stare at the newcomers. Their attendants calmed them as the two approached.
Pariah said to Zariel, "Flying can be pretty scary the first time, but you'll be strapped in. Don't let the height bother you."
Zariel turned to her, a twinkle in her eye, and said quietly so as not to be heard by the nearby monk, "You remember I used to have wings, right?"
Pariah laughed, embarrassed. "Oh, that's right. I forgot."
The attendants took their packs and strapped them to the saddles slung across the beasts' leonine bodies. After the two women mounted the griffons, the attendants tightened the straps that would keep them safe. Lulu squeezed herself into Zariel's pack.
"Safe journey," the dragonborn woman called out.
"Thanks," Pariah called back.
One of the attendants called out a command and the two griffons waddled to the edge of the platform. He called out another command, and Pariah's griffon leapt off the platform. This was the fourth time she'd ridden out to Traxigor's tower, but her heart still skipped a beat as the beast dropped towards the stone courtyard. Then its wings caught the air, Pariah grunted as the force drove her into the saddle, and then the griffon sailed over the wall and the ocean beyond.
Zariel's griffon pulled abreast. Pariah shot her a grin and the other woman smiled back.
She was never sure exactly how long the trip took, since she didn't have a timepiece, but guessed it was a couple of hours. Her first trip had been terrifying, but she had enjoyed her later journeys. In the past, Pariah had simply entertained herself with her own thoughts. She had tried reading on one trip, only to almost lose the book to the air current that blew past her.
Lulu used her telepathy to chat with Pariah, and occasionally to relay messages between her and Zariel, but mostly they rode in silence and enjoyed the view. The seascape was dotted with islands for the first part of the trip, but then they were flying across open water. She spotted a merchant ship in the distance headed south, probably going to Athkatla in Amn.
Eventually, she saw Traxigor's small island floating in the sky ahead. The griffons beat their wings to gain altitude and moved to fly in single file. The takeoff might be jarring, but the landing was always terrifying. As they sped towards the tiny hole in the roof of the towers, Pariah kept telling herself they could make it even though the opening seemed far smaller than a griffon.
The beast folded its wings, shot through, and landed on the stone surface with the usual scrape of talons. The other one came in seconds behind.
Pariah let out the breath she'd been holding and started to unstrap herself. Zariel didn't seem shaken by the landing, and Pariah felt a twinge of jealousy at her blasé attitude. She'd never really liked flying, but then every time she'd done it under her own power had been in a crisis situation. In hindsight, she wondered if she should have enjoyed her wings more when she had the chance.
Pariah waved over Lulu. As the asteri closed, Pariah whispered, "Remember, your name is Helmi. We don't want Traxigor to know who you two really are."
"I remember," she said petulantly. "I liked him. I wish I could say hi."
"I know," Pariah assured her. "Maybe another time. He knows you went back to the Seven Heavens so he thinks you're doing fine."
"I'm glad. I wouldn't want him to worry."
Pariah led the way towards the only feature in the bare, stone room: a downward staircase that curved along the outer wall of the tower. She could hear things being moved around and heavy weights crashing to the floor. She descended into a circular chamber packed with a chaotic array of books, scrolls, discarded food, and strange devices. Several things were on fire, illuminating the room. From her past visits, she knew the flames were magical and weren't actually burning the objects.
A small, brown-skinned gnome with disheveled orange hair streaked with white stood with his back to them, dusting off the seat of a chair with his bare hand. Next to the seat was a pile of books that had presumably just been dumped onto the floor. "Welcome! Welcome! Please, have a seat and-"
He broke off as he turned and his eyes fell on Pariah. His welcoming smile faded into his trimmed and waxed orange beard. "Oh. It's you," he said in disappointment, snorting out of his long, drooping nose.
"Good to see you, too, Traxigor," she said cheerfully.
He flopped down in the chair he had been clearing. "What is it this time?" he asked resignedly.
"Hey, it's not like I'm here every week. And you did literally strand me in the Nine Hells, so pardon me for calling in a favor now and then."
"I've apologized for that over and over," he groaned. "And I did look for you. Sort of. But I couldn't just hang around waiting for you all to show up."
"Plus you figured we were dead," she said tiredly. "And you didn't go to the High Hall because you didn't know how to get across the chasm. Yeah, I know. You've told me all this before."
He crossed his arms and grunted petulantly. "So what do you want?"
Pariah waved towards her companions. "This is Arina and Helmi. I want you to transport the three of us to Icewind Dale."
Traxigor frowned. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.
Pariah figured it wasn't really any of his business, but their trip also wasn't a secret. "We're investigating the endless winter."
The gnome threw his head back and moaned. "And you couldn't have gone with your friend? You make me do this twice?"
"Who?" Pariah asked in confusion, looking towards Zariel. "Her?"
"No," he snapped. "The one from two days ago. At least he paid me for my service. I imagine you won't."
Pariah asked suspiciously, "Someone went to Icewind Dale two days ago? To investigate the winter?"
"Yes, of course." He gave her a puzzled look. "You mean he wasn't with you?"
"No," she sighed, feeling the burden of fate bearing down on her, "though I have a funny feeling he will be. Fucking immortals." Lulu giggled. Pariah continued, "Let me guess, he talked about being guided by visions or gods or something like that?"
"He didn't say anything about his reasons," Traxigor said. "I didn't ask. And he paid me."
"Yes, you already said that," she said in annoyance. "So you can send us there?"
He frowned. "Normally, no. It's not that simple. I can't just send you anywhere unless I've been there or unless I have some token of the place. Luckily, he brought me something. Come on."
Traxigor stood and bustled down the steps to the nearly empty lower room. Pariah understood this to be a casting laboratory or something like that. The room was dimly lit by three flaming statues: a fish, a bust of a bearded man, and a fruit tree. Two sets of shelves held magical devices. Between them was a table which, unlike her first trip down here, was disappointingly empty. No bottomless bags this time. Leaning against a wall was a painting of a snow-covered, walled city.
The gnome mumbled to himself as he fetched a small box from one of the shelves and knelt on the floor. He took a piece of red chalk out of the box and drew a circle about ten feet across. He then began inscribing symbols along the edge while continuing to mumble. Pariah was pretty sure the words were Gnim profanities rather than the incantation of a spell.
"He's just as funny as I remember," Lulu said in her mind, and Pariah shot her a grin.
While he worked, Pariah wandered over to examine the painting. It was in an inexpensive wooden frame, and a brass plaque mounted at the bottom read, "Bryn Shander". Over her shoulder, she said, "This man you sent to Icewind Dale. What was his name?"
"Dunno," he mumbled. "Didn't ask."
"Can you describe him?" She was pretty sure they were going to end up together, so she might as well recognize him when destiny shoved him in her path, if only to try to avoid him.
"Human. Dark skin. Curly hair. Square beard. Wore a bright scarf." He looked over and her and snorted. "At least he was smart enough to dress for the weather."
"Meaning?" Pariah asked, puzzled.
"It's very cold up there," he said like he was talking to a child. "You two are going to freeze."
"Oh," Pariah said, looking down at her studded leather armor and feeling foolish. Of course it would be cold. It was a northern land in eternal winter. She'd be fine -- the cold didn't affect her much -- but she gave Zariel a worried look.
The other woman made a resigned shrug. "I suppose we will have to buy warm clothing once we get there."
"Get in the circle," Traxigor said irritably as he regained his feet. Pariah and Zariel did as he instructed, and Lulu alit on Zariel's shoulder. Traxigor gave Pariah a sour look. Hesitantly he said, "This is powerful magic. I'd normally charge quite a lot for this."
She gave him a friendly smile. "And I appreciate the favor," she said sweetly.
That annoyed him further. Sternly, he said, "This is it. We're even. This makes up for everything. All right?"
Pariah hesitated but getting her ban from the Great Library lifted plus this powerful spell and the other favors he'd done seemed fair. "All right," she said. "We're even."
"Good," he said in relief. "Well, then, here we go."
He picked up the painting with his left hand and held it before him. He stared at it as he spoke an incantation in a voice that rang through the room. Energies swirled around them, and Pariah felt herself disappear.
Notes:
I hadn't planned to have her visit Sylvira. I was kind of rushing through Candlekeep, not wanting to dawdle here for eight chapters like I did last time. It worked in the last book because I got to explore a lot of character stuff, but I didn't want to drag out this story. However Chapters 3 and 4 were too long to be one chapter and too short to be two chapters, so I added the Sylvira scene.
The Sword Coast postal system is my own creation, but it sounds like something the clergy of the god of literacy would do.
The spell Traxigor used was kind of a hybrid between teleport and teleportation circle. I know that he shouldn't have been able to send them without going himself, but it's not a real spell. It's a narrative device so I don't have to write them spending weeks on a ship before getting to the real story.
Chapter 5: Wintry Welcome
Summary:
Pariah and Zariel have been teleported by Traxigor's spell, hoping to arrive safely in Icewind Dale.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 19, 1496 (3 days after the New Moon)
As the world faded in around them, the air was so frigid that it made Pariah gasp in shock. A freezing wind blew across her skin, sucking the warmth out of her body. "Talona's tits, it's cold!" she spat out as she hugged herself to try to keep in the heat. She had never really been cold before, even when the people around her were. The depths of Baldur's Gate's worst winters were nothing compared to the bitter environment she was in now.
The wind blowing from the left made the air feel even colder. Snow flurried around them, though she wasn't sure if it was blown in by the wind, falling from the sky, or both. Even though it should be afternoon, the sky was dark with only a little starlight illuminating the land around them. The barren snow-covered hillside before them rose towards a walled town less than a quarter of a mile away; she recognized it as the town from the painting. A slight trench, just the barest lowering of the depth of the snow, led away from them towards the closed gate. The side of the trench was lined with tripods of logs the stuck out of the snow about a hundred yards apart, which made her suspect that this was a road.
"Let's get moving," Zariel said, her teeth already chattering.
They tried to hurry but the deep snow made travel difficult. Pariah was out of breath before they'd traveled even half the way to the gate. She had to keep wiping the frost from her eyes as her eyelashes froze together. The stone wall was about thirty feet high and curved off to either side, apparently circling around the city. The gates were half as tall as the wall, made of iron-bound wood, and flanked by watchtowers that emitted thin trails of black smoke from narrow chimneys. She could see other towers spaced along the wall as it curved out of sight.
Pariah felt the cold penetrating her muscles, sucking the warmth from her body, and could only imagine how much worse it was for Zariel. Lulu had buried herself in Zariel's pack, so was probably fine.
Two guards had come out, one from each watchtower, to peer over the wall and stare down at the strange newcomers. She couldn't tell race or gender since they were both wrapped in fur cloaks with hoods, leaving nothing exposed. She envied them at the moment. She didn't see weapons, but imagined they had bows or crossbows under their cloaks. One had lit a large torch that was mounted to the wall, angled out to illuminate the gate below in a pool of dim light.
She had no idea how long it took them to get to the gate, but it had to have been at least a half hour trudging through snow that went halfway to their knees. They finally reached the light of the torch mounted far above them. She looked up to the guards watching them from above. She was gasping for breath and wasn't sure she could yell loud enough to be heard up there.
"Are you mad?" shouted the left guard. It was a man's voice. "What are you doing trudging through the night without warm clothes?"
She wasn't sure how to answer that, and settled for shouting back, "Long story. Can we come in?"
The guards consulted with each other in voices she couldn't hear. The guard on the right, also a man but with a higher voice, yelled down, "What's your business here?"
"Really?" she asked in astonishment. "Let us in. We're freezing!"
"Then answer the question! What's your business?"
Pariah was praying for the patience to deal with fools, when Zariel called out, "I have been sent here by a heavenly guide to investigate the Everlasting Rime."
Pariah wouldn't have put it quite like that, and expected the guards to laugh in their faces, but instead they put their heads together in another consultation. She heard the right guard say, "I told you so!"
The left guard shouted down, "Where have you come from?"
Pariah had dealt with enough officious guards and soldiers to know that they weren't getting past the gate until they played this silly game. "Candlekeep," she sighed.
"See?" the right guard said to the other. To the newcomers, he demanded, "Are you with the other one from the day before yesterday?"
"Uh," Pariah stammered. She wasn't sure if she should say yes or no. If the man Traxigor had previously transported had earned the trust of the guards, claiming to be his ally would get them in. However, if he had annoyed the guards or been arrested, it would be bad.
"No," Zariel said before Pariah had made up her mind, "although we understand he might be on a similar mission."
The left guard asked, "Do you know anyone in Bryn Shander? Or in any of the towns?"
"No," Zariel admitted, "although we have been asked to talk to a priest named Delivon Ludwig."
The guards exchanged a silent look. Zariel said cautiously, "Do you know him?"
Rather than answering her question, the right guard said, "You appeared out of nowhere. Are you wizards?"
Zariel said, "No. I have some divine power granted to me by Lathander, but nothing arcane. We were transported by a wizard in Candlekeep. Well, near Candlekeep."
Pariah was debating about revealing her minimal power, but before she could say anything, the right guard asked, "Are you with the Arcane Brotherhood? Or any faction in Luskan?"
Zariel looked puzzled. "I don't know what that is. So, no."
The guards again went into a consultation. Zariel said, "Please, can we at least take this to a warm room? It really is quite chilly out here." Pariah wanted to laugh at her understatement, but then the other woman added with a hint of desperation, "I'm honestly not sure how much longer I can last out here."
That produced another, more heated conversation between the guards. Pariah was starting to get angry and, though she knew losing her temper would just make things worse, she was close to blowing her stack anyhow. However, at that moment, the right guard called down, "Open the gate!"
Pariah heard the sound of the mechanism engaging, and the large gates slowly creaked open. Zariel hurried through as soon as the opening was wide enough, Pariah close behind. Four fur-cloaked guards waited on the other side. Two had spears and two had drawn swords. "This way," one of the spearmen barked, waving the point of his weapon towards the tower to their left.
She was annoyed, but knew better than to talk back to the town guard, at least until it was really necessary. One of the guards led the way, opening the door to reveal a circular room. Iron rungs on the far wall led up past a wooden ceiling, probably to the top of the tower. Her attention was immediately drawn to the black stove set against one wall, which had a chimney pipe running up through the ceiling. She and Zariel rushed over to warm themselves in front of it. She was overwhelmed by a strong, fishy smell though she wasn't sure where it was coming from. Two of the guards followed them in and closed the door.
She heard someone coming down the ladder and glanced over her shoulder to see another fur-clad figure descending from the tower. As he reached the ground, he threw back his hood to reveal a bald man with pale skin and dull hazel eyes. He watched them with obvious suspicion as he went to sit behind a rickety table that served as a desk, and opened a weathered notebook. He picked up a pencil, licked the tip, and asked, "What are your full names?" His voice marked him as one of the two wall guards.
He was looking at Pariah at the moment so she said, "I'm Pariah. No last name. And she's Arina Dawnseeker."
"Zariel Dawnseeker, actually," the other woman corrected her, causing Pariah to look at her with surprise.
The guard's suspicion deepened. "Which is it?" he demanded.
"Both," Zariel said smoothly. "My parents were worshipers of Lathander and I was named after one of his angels. However, during my travels, I discovered the name Zariel has rather a bad reputation around Elturel. I don't know if you've heard about what happened there..." She trailed off in a questioning tone.
He shrugged. "We haven't heard much from the rest of the Sword Coast since the Rime started."
"Ah, well, long story. The point is, I decided it would be best to go by my middle name to avoid any complications, but I never liked to do so. It felt dishonest. It sounds like I'm far enough away to go back to my real name."
That explanation didn't allay his suspicions. "Zariel Arina Dawnseeker?" he asked. She nodded, and he wrote in his book. He looked up, and then his eyes widened and he pointed. "What is that?"
Lulu had crawled out of Zariel's pack and onto her shoulder. Lulu made an uncertain noise and looked to Zariel, who said, "That is my companion, Lulu. She is a celestial messenger sent to aid me in my journey."
Lulu waved at him enthusiastically. He grunted and wrote in the book, mumbling, "Lulu, celestial messenger." He looked back up at them. "How long are you staying?"
"I don't know," Zariel said, looking towards Pariah. "Until we've finished investigating the Everlasting Rime."
He gave a humorless laugh as he wrote in his book. "You said you don't know anyone. Where are you planning to stay?"
"At an inn I imagine. I don't know the city so I don't know which one."
"Northlook's the only one still open," he said.
"Then I suppose it will be the Northlook," Zariel said. "Where might we find that?"
He sighed in annoyance. "Follow the road outside to the market." He frowned. "Torg's is probably still set up so you can buy yourself something warm, unless you like freezing like idiots. From there, turn left to take the road to the North Gate. Northlook is just inside the gate."
"Thank you. If I may ask, I'm looking for a priest named Delivon Ludwig. Do you know where I can find him?"
"Cemetery," he grunted, and then he looked up at them with a hint of contrition. In a gentler voice he added, "Er, that is to say, he died a few months back. Did you know him?"
"That's tragic," Zariel said with concern. "And no, I didn't know him. I was just asked to speak with him. May I ask what happened to him?"
He pursed his lips and looked like he was debating something. "He was a priest in the House of the Triad. He was found frozen to death inside the temple, its doors and windows smashed open."
"How awful," Zariel said.
Pariah sensed something in his tone. "Was he murdered?" she asked.
He grunted. "Dunno. You'd have to ask the sheriff. And speaking of that, tomorrow morning you need to go see Sheriff Markham Southwell at the Town Hall. That's just off the marketplace. He always wants to speak to," he narrowed his eyes, "suspicious newcomers."
Pariah gave him a bright smile. "Of course," she lied. Well, maybe a lie. She had no interest in meeting the sheriff, but Zariel might want to ask about the priest's death. "You talked about another man who came a couple of days ago. Would he be at the Northlook?"
The guard shrugged. "If he's here, then probably." In a tone dripping with suspicion, he added, "He didn't have any friends here either."
"Great. Can we go now?"
The man frowned at her for a long time. "We don't like strangers here. Strangers bring trouble." He glared. "Especially wizards."
She put her hands out in a shrug. "No wizards here," she assured him.
He tapped the pencil on the table and then said, "Very well. You can go. But be sure to report in to the sheriff. You don't want him to come looking for you." He gave her an icy smile. "He's not as polite as I am."
She turned to Zariel. "Ready to go?"
The blonde woman gave a wistful look towards the stove. "I suppose so," she said with a hint of reluctance. Lulu dove back into her pack.
Pariah opened the door, and the wind blew in a flurry of snow. She closed the door behind them, and they hurried off down the road that led away from the gate. Most of the surrounding streets were narrow and twisted, but this main road was wide, cobbled, and clear of snow. It was brightly lit by oil lamps, though most of the surrounding buildings were dark. The structures were mostly made of stone with steeply pitched roofs. There were strange holes in the layout of the town, empty, snow-covered foundations with nothing built atop them, and only empty post holes surrounding them.
Zariel slowed as they came to a large building on the left. The doors and windows were smashed open and the entire place was covered in a thin coating of ice; none of the buildings nearby had the same layer of rime. "I wonder if this was the House of the Triad," she mused, having stopped walking.
Pariah could see the lights of the marketplace not too far down the road. "Maybe," she said. "Let's get some warm clothes first."
"In a moment," Zariel said, distractedly as she headed into the ruin, vigorously rubbing her arms for warmth.
Pariah looked again towards the marketplace, grimaced, and then followed her.
It was noticeably colder inside the building. There wasn't anything left but frozen stone. The altar had been split by a spike of ice that had erupted from the ground. Everything else had been taken. The wall behind the altar had a frost-covered fresco that was peeling away from the stone. Despite the damage, Pariah could see the painting depicted Torm, Tyr and Ilmater.
Zariel stood before the mural, her fists clenched at her side. Through gritted teeth, she said, "This is sacrilege. I will find and punish whoever did this!"
"Zariel," Lulu chided gently, having poked her head out from the backpack.
Zariel took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming herself. "I am fine, Lulu. I am not letting my anger control me."
The asteri gave her a concerned look and then returned to her shelter.
Pariah said, "We can ask the sheriff about this tomorrow. There's nothing we can do now." It wasn't that she didn't care; she just wanted to get out of the cold. They could figure things out after they had secured lodgings. "Let's go," she prompted.
"Very well," Zariel sighed, giving the area one last intense look before joining Pariah on the road to the marketplace.
The market was nearly empty. It looked like there was only one merchant, set up next to one of the three main roads that led out of the plaza. Since it was the one to Pariah's left, she guessed that was the route that led to the North Gate and the inn. The plaza was surrounded by buildings. All of them seemed dark and abandoned, though one along the south edge stood out. It was made of red brick rather than the gray stone of other buildings, and had the pretentious ornamentation common to government buildings. Each of the closed double doors bore the painting of a white shield emblazoned with a pair of black antlers above a golden stalk of wheat. Etched into the stone over the doors were the words "Bryn Shander Town Hall". A weathered sign bolted to the wall read, "Office of the Sheriff".
The merchant in the marketplace was, like everyone else they'd met, an unidentifiable pile of furs sitting behind an array of crates. Stacked atop the crates were various goods such as lanterns, fishing rods, rope, plus some strange wooden frames with rawhide latticework stretched across them. She didn't know what they were, but guessed they were some kind of strange fishing tool.
There were several large ceramic jars marked "Whale Oil", and she wondered if that was the source of the fishy smell in the guardhouse. There had been no smell of wood smoke. She'd heard of using whale oil for lamps, though she'd never heard of using it for heating.
The most important thing she spotted, though, were the stacks of cold weather clothing on a crate at the end.
To one side were three large sleds; over a dozen white-and-gray dogs with thick coats of fur slept or sat among them. One sled had a black and gold flag, though since it hung limply, she couldn't see the design. The sled with the flag was still loaded with sacks of cargo. Four other fur-clad figures loitered nearby and they didn't look like customers, though it seemed like an awful lot of guards for one merchant.
There was one more figure in the plaza, and he was notable because he wasn't wearing any cold weather clothing at all. He was a brawny human man in his thirties with olive skin and a black ponytail. He was leaning back against a wall with his arms crossed, watching the newcomers intently with icy blue eyes. His clothing was well-made and probably expensive; the style reminded Pariah of that worn by some of the sailors she'd seen come off ships in Baldur's Gate.
He raised his eyebrows in a question, and she realized she had stopped in her tracks and was staring at him. She gave him a sheepish nod of greeting and continued towards the crates of goods. She and Zariel made a beeline for the stack of furs. Pariah was quickly overwhelmed by the choices, so started by grabbling a hooded fur cloak and wrapping it around her. To the short pile of furs sitting behind the merchandise, she said, "It might be obvious, but we're new here. Can you help us figure out what gear we need?"
The pile of furs pulled back a hood, revealing the face of a dwarven woman. The skin of her face was light brown but ravaged by the elements. Grey eyes peered at the customers suspiciously. Her dark hair was tied in a tight bun. "Well, it depends on a few things," she grated in a rough smoker's voice.
She hit them with a series of questions. How long were they staying? Would they be traveling or staying in town? Would they be fighting and, if so, what kind of weapons would they be using?
"The cloaks'll be good," she grunted, nodding towards the furs they were already wearing. "Coats keep you warmer, but don't give you as much movement." Pointing to each item she continued, "You'll need woolens underneath your armor. Boots and gloves. Goggles for the blizzards. Snowshoes." That's when she pointed to the rawhide lattices that Pariah had thought were fishing equipment. She went on, "Crampons for the ice. Rope to tie yourself together in a storm. Lanterns rather than torches. Rations, wood and sleeping bags if you are going to spend the night in the wilderness."
That was a lot. Pariah said, "Let's start with the clothing. We can come back when we're ready to travel to pick up some of that other stuff."
The dwarf shrugged. "We're here only till tomorrow. Next morning we head out to Easthaven."
"Is there anywhere else in Bryn Shander we could go?"
She pointed up the road to the North Gate. "Blackiron Blades took over outfitting once Rendaril's closed down. Cheap shit, though. Not quality like me."
Zariel asked, "I don't suppose you could make cold weather clothing for someone about this tall?" She held one hand about a foot above the other.
"You mean like a toy?" the dwarf asked in confusion.
"I'm not a toy!" came a muffled voice from within Zariel's pack. Lulu poked her head out to glare at him over Zariel's shoulder.
The dwarven woman stared at her, mystified. "No you're not. Well, no, I don't do custom work like that. Might find someone here who could, but I'm not sure where you'd ask."
"Very well, then just clothing for the two of us. I'm Zariel, by the way. What is your name?"
"Torrga," the dwarf grunted as she started picking through the stacks of cold weather clothing, laying things out.
They would have to wait to don the wool underclothing, but the boots fit over Pariah's regular boots and she slipped on the big fur mittens as well. It would be hard to fight with the latter, but she could slip them off pretty easily if she had to.
"How much?" she asked.
Torrga looked over them both. "Forty gold."
"Forty?" Pariah exclaimed. She had been expecting it to be half that.
"Forty," Torrga responded firmly. "You can try Blackiron, but they don't have half this stuff, plus their stuff is shit. Or you can continue to freeze."
Pariah was annoyed by the price. She was ready to put the clothing back and check out the other shop, but Zariel said in a friendly tone, "That will be fine," and was already counting out coins. Pariah counted out twenty gold for her share, which was most of what she had.
"We'll return tomorrow," Zariel told Torrga, "once we've figured out our plans. Good evening."
Torrga scooped up the coins into a pouch and stowed the pouch inside her furs. Pariah cast one more eye over the displayed goods, making a mental list of the things they might want to buy. However, if the prices were that high, they might have to do without.
She glanced over one last time at the stylishly dressed man. He hadn't moved, and continued to watch them intently. She was curious so called out, "How do you do that? Stand in the cold without furs."
He gave her an unfriendly smile. "I was born on Midwinter. The Frostmaiden's blessing protects me from the cold."
"I wish I had that," she laughed, though she didn't actually want the blessing of another evil immortal.
That surprised him. "Aren't all of you from Caer-Dineval protected?"
She shook her head in confusion. "I'm not from there. I'm from Baldur's Gate. I don't feel the cold as much as humans or other races do, but I couldn't stand around like that all night in this weather." The wind was blocked by the surrounding buildings, but the surrounding chill had not lessened.
He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed calculatingly. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Pariah said to Zariel, "Let's go find that inn."
They headed down the north road. To their left they saw a small shop with a sign that read, "Blackiron Blades". There was an attached smithy, open under a wooden roof, but the fire was banked and glowing softly. Light leaked out from the shuttered windows, implying the place was open. It might be worth checking later, but for now Pariah wanted to get somewhere warm, preferably somewhere with ale. The furs were helping, but without an external source of heat, she wasn't warming up very quickly.
The North Gate was clearly visible at the end of the road. Most of the buildings along the street leading up to it were dark. Those that weren't had columns of black smoke rising from their chimneys. There were a few people about, though they were all as bundled up as Pariah and Zariel now were. She couldn't tell race or gender. For all she knew, one of these people might be three kobolds standing on each others' shoulders in an oversized fur coat. Nobody even acknowledged their presence as they passed. They might as well have been walking among ghosts.
She saw the sign for The Northlook ahead. The place was brightly lit by lanterns on the outside, and more light spilled out from loosely shuttered windows, but the establishment was eerily quiet, especially considering it was a tavern. The building was the same stone construction with a pitched roof they'd seen elsewhere in town. The path and the steps leading to the door had been cleared of snow and ice.
Pariah led the way, pushing the door open. A gust of wind sprung up in that moment, blowing a swirl of snow into the dimly lit tavern. "Close the door!" someone yelled. She and Zariel hurried inside, and she slammed the door shut behind her.
Considering how quiet it was, Pariah was surprised to see the place was nearly full. A couple dozen people sat at the tables. Most of them had opened their coats and cloaks to the warm-ish air of the tavern, though a few still were anonymous bundles of fur clothing. Nearly everyone turned to look at the newcomers with expressions of suspicion and hostility. Pariah wondered if they had walked into the wrong place.
Notes:
When this chapter was first posted, I wrote that the temple had burned down. I changed it to the mysterious frost that's here now. I'm hoping that I caught all the references to the burned temple in future chapters, but if anyone notices any that I missed, let me know in the comments.
Now let me complain about Forgotten Realms canon. Per Rise of the Frostmaiden, the wall is "two concentric rings of upright wooden poles, the gap between them filled with dirt and rubble". Per Storm King's Thunder, Bryn Shander's wall is "made of tight-fitting stone blocks". I mean, come on. How hard is it to stay consistent? I decided the junk walls made no sense at all. Bryn Shander was a prosperous town, the center of trade for Icewind Dale, before the Everlasting Rime.
Per my house rules, Pariah's cold resistance does not make her immune to cold. Resistance and cold weather clothing merely allow you to make the hourly saves. Having neither means you automatically fail, and having both gives you advantage. Frankly, cold is way to tame in this game, and even this change is pretty mild. Per the module, the average temperature is more than 40 degrees below zero (which is the same in both Fahrenheit and Celsius), and worse with wind chill. You should not be able to easily spend hours in that temperature, but you also can't make the environment so bad the PCs can't travel.
I've added the locations listed in Storm King's Thunder but I'm assuming they are all closed since they aren't mentioned in this module. Unless, of course, I decide I need one of them in which case it will be open for business. The destruction of the House of the Triad is my own addition.
After writing this chapter, I came across Augerek Brighthelm, also from Storm King's Thunder. She is a cheerful guard who is supposed to greet the players at the gate in that module. I had thought about rewriting their arrival to include her, but instead make her either dull and depressed, or desperately cheerful in a disturbing way. However it would be a lot of work to rewrite their arrival just for a reference that nobody would get.
Chapter 6: A Frozen Dwarf Walks Into a Bar
Summary:
Pariah and Zariel get a chilly reception at The Northlook Inn in Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 19, 1496 (3 days after the New Moon)
Pariah felt nervous under the hostile gazes of the tavern customers. She was debating about whether they should leave, but the guard had said this was the only place to stay in Bryn Shander. There were plenty of empty buildings so she wondered if they should find one to squat in and hope the watch didn't run them off.
"Welcome, strangers!" a man's voice called out from behind the bar. He was a human in his fifties with short, gray hair, a nasty scar along his cheek, and a sturdy build. With a broad smile, he continued, "I'm Scramsax; welcome to The Northlook. You looking for a room? A meal? Something to drink?"
Pariah was momentarily bewildered by the sudden welcome among a sea of hostility, but stepped towards the bar. "A room for the two of us. Food and ale too."
"Two dragons for the room. Food's in the pot. Ale will set you back five shards a mug, but mead's only one."
The ale was the most expensive she'd ever come across. "That better be some pretty good ale for five shards," she said.
Scramsax laughed. "Naw, it's horse piss, but we have to import it so it's expensive. The mead gets made locally so it's cheap."
Mead was a little sweet for Pariah's taste, but the price was right. "Mead for me." She looked questioningly at Zariel as she fished the coins out of her pouch.
"For me too," the other woman smiled at him.
"Hot or cold?"
Pariah remembered that some people drank warm mead or wine in winter, though it wasn't that common in Baldur's Gate. She replied, "Hot, I think." Zariel nodded agreement.
The innkeeper reached under the bar and retrieved a key. "Room four," he said as he slapped it on the counter.
"Hold those drinks for a bit," Pariah said as she scooped up the key. To Zariel, she said, "Let's drop our stuff off first."
They headed upstairs to the room. Pariah wanted to inspect the lock, so she waved Zariel in first. It seemed sturdy enough so she felt reasonably safe leaving her possessions here. The room was fairly basic: a pair of beds, a small dresser, a table and basin, and a window that was both shuttered and covered in a thick curtain made of fur.
They both dropped their packs, gloves and boots but kept their cloaks on. The air was warmer than the outside, but still a little chilly. Pariah experimented a bit with reaching her saber. It wasn't too hard to swing the cloak back to get to her weapon, though her shield would be hard to reach. With that in mind, she left the shield behind but kept her sword at her hip. Zariel did the same. Lulu had come out of her warm pocket in Zariel's pack and flew around exploring the small room.
"What's the plan?" Pariah asked.
Zariel was readjusting her fur cloak after having removed her own shield. "I'm not sure. It's hard to tell what time it is, but considering when we left Candlekeep and Traxigor's, I would assume it's towards evening. I would like to meet with the sheriff..."
I knew it, Pariah sighed to herself.
"...and ask him about the death of Delivon Ludwig," Zariel finished.
Well, that was a good point, she admitted to herself. Even when Pariah had been a thief, or at least more of a thief than she was now, temples had been off limits. If it had been a deliberate murder, that crossed a line for her. She wouldn't mind finding out who did that, even if it meant being under the eye of the local constabulary.
The other woman continued, "I'd also like to visit the priest of Amaunator as a courtesy. She might have information about the Everlasting Rime, or some idea where to go next. Plus, if nothing else, I'd like to say a prayer there."
Pariah nodded. "I'd like to talk to the innkeeper. Anyone who serves drinks usually knows what's going on."
"True. And that, at least, is something we can do tonight, though I suppose the temple would probably be open tonight as well."
Pariah opened the door. "Let's start with food and drink and see where that takes us."
They headed back downstairs. Most of the clientele had lost interest in them and were back to low-voiced conversations or just quietly enjoying their drinks, though she spotted a couple of customers staring off blankly as though in a trance. Then Lulu flew down behind them, having lagged back, and that drew another round of stares and silence. To be fair, this time the attitude seemed to be one of curiosity rather than hostility.
"Hi!" Lulu said, waving to the room in general. She was disappointed when nobody waved back.
Scramsax was leaning down, talking to one of the men sitting at the bar. Behind him, a stuffed fish over five feet long with an oversized head dominated the wall. A brass plaque below it read, "Ol' Bitey". In smaller letters, she could barely read, "Caught 30 Marponeth 1493 by Kintyre and the Maverick".
In response to the barman's inquiring look, Pariah said, "We're ready for those drinks." He nodded, grabbed a couple of mugs, and turned to the barrels stacked behind him. As he filled them, she and Zariel stopped at the stove next to the bar. A stewpot simmered on top. The backside of the stove was open, and a number of irons were stacked up in the space, the ends glowing dully in the fire. She was just starting to wonder what they were for when the innkeeper grabbed two of them by their wooden handles, and dipped one in each of their mugs of mead with a loud hiss and a cloud of steam. By the time the women had filled their ceramic bowls from the pot, the hissing had stopped.
Scramsax placed the irons back into the fire. "You didn't say there were three of you," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Though it looks like she doesn't take up much space so I won't charge her extra."
"Hey," Lulu said in mock indignation, "I used to be much bigger. Bigger than this whole building."
"I'm sure you were," he said kindly as he pushed the mugs forward. "Here you are. Best mead you've ever tasted."
"Thanks," Pariah said. She had wanted to sit at the bar and talk to the innkeeper, but there were no stools available. With stew and a dense roll in one hand, and a mug in the other, she followed Zariel to one of the open tables that gave them a good view of the space. The room was dimly lit by scattered oil lamps and had that same fishy smell as the guardhouse.
Pariah sipped on her drink, warming her insides. It had a spiced flavor that she hadn't been expecting and the sweetness wasn't overwhelming. It wasn't her favorite, but it wasn't bad. The soup was fish and seaweed, with a heavy dose of garlic. It was more flavorful than she had been expecting and, unlike the mead, was piping hot. The roll had a heavy, dense texture and an odd, though not unpleasant, flavor.
While she ate, she studied the other customers. They were mostly human with a few dwarves and some solitary examples of other races like a gnome woman and a half-orc man. At least that was among the people she could see. About a quarter of the customers were still bundled in furs with their hoods pulled up, though she wasn't sure if that was for warmth or anonymity. She felt a definite "mind your own business" attitude from the crowd, which was fine with her.
Zariel was quiet while they ate, which allowed Pariah to eavesdrop on the surrounding conversations. The tavern might go dry because a giant had attacked the meadery in Good Mead. A string of murders had been happening here in Bryn Shander, usually just after the New Moon. Targos had been hit by one of the worst blizzards in recent memory; apparently Torg's had just come from there, departing right as the storm was forming. And a wizard was going to be executed in Easthaven.
Two tables particularly caught her attention.
At one sat three people. The first was a middle-aged half-elven man with curly golden hair and a wispy goatee, who spoke loudly. The second was a human teenage boy with dark, wavy hair that hung past his shoulders, and intense, brown eyes. The third was a graying dwarven woman with a beefy build, even for a dwarf, and a ring piercing in her lip. Each of them had a pendant that was a large, six-pointed snowflake made of silver. The half-elven man had the same symbol on his forehead, though Pariah couldn't tell if it was a tattoo or makeup. They stood out because they were the only happy people in the tavern. They beamed with joy, and more than once they loudly toasted the "glory of Auril the Frostmaiden". Most of the patrons drank when they did, some with fervor and others with rolled eyes. The boy seemed to be carefully noting the people who didn't drink. Pariah didn't join the toasts and, when he glared at her, she stared back and resisted the urge to make an obscene gesture.
The other table that she noticed was located on the other side of the room. Two men were engaged in a conversation she couldn't hear. One had dark, reddish brown skin; his oily forehead glistened slightly in the lamp light. His black hair was coarse and tightly coiled, and he had a square-cut beard under a wide, squashed nose. What drew her eye was the brightly colored scarf wrapped around his neck and hanging down the front of his closed fur coat. She'd seen only a few people from Turami, but he looked to be from that country, and most of them wore a similar scarf as part of their wardrobe.
He was talking to a tall, muscular man with a windburned face, blue eyes, dark red hair tied in a pony tail, and a bushy beard. His coat was open to reveal that he wore leathers underneath. A carved staff leaned against the table next to him, which might mean he was a spellcaster, or might mean he liked using a walking stick.
The reason they attracted her notice was the first man seemed to fit Traxigor's description of the person who had preceded them here. Pariah remained silent about that. If fate wanted them to get together, then fate was going to have to work for it.
Unfortunately, fate was sitting right next to her.
Zariel nudged Pariah with an elbow. Softly she said, "You see the man over there with the colorful scarf? Do you think he is the one Traxigor mentioned?"
The tiefling suppressed a sigh. "Could be," she grunted noncommittally.
"We should speak with him."
"Let's finish eating," Pariah said as she lifted a spoonful of fish stew to her mouth. She had been observing the crowd so intently that her meal was getting cold. "And I'd like to talk to the barkeep first."
Zariel pursed her lips. "He might leave if we wait too long."
"Then I guess we weren't destined to meet him," Pariah observed a little testily. She wasn't mad at Zariel, and was trying not to take her annoyance out on the woman, but for Lathander's sake they had just arrived. She had hoped to get a little bit of time before being dragged into whatever this was.
Zariel seemed annoyed, and then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Very well," she said with forced patience. "You are native to this world, so I will defer to your experience."
The door suddenly burst open with a gust of wind and sprinkling of snow. "Close the door!" called an irritated voice from the crowd. Three stocky figures bundled in cold weather gear hurried through the entrance and slammed it behind them. "Nine mugs of hot mead," called out a female voice muffled by a thick, wool scarf. "And two rooms."
The three figures hurried to the stove, opened their coats and flipped back their hoods to bask in the warmth of the fire. Considering their stature, it wasn't surprising to see they were dwarves. One had red hair and a bushy, unkempt beard. He also had no nose, just a lump of scar tissue. The second dwarf had dark brown hair and his beard was plaited into three braids. The last was the woman. She had white hair and looked to be much older than the two male dwarves.
They were shivering and, even in the dim light, Pariah could see a bluish tint to their lips. They quickly shed their gloves and vigorously rubbed their hands together. The red head growled, "Can't you make this fire burn any hotter?"
"Sorry," the barkeep said as he plunged hot irons into the first round of mead. "That's as high as it goes."
Lulu was sitting on the table and looked over at Zariel. She said, "You should help them."
To Pariah's surprise, the woman looked conflicted. "I suppose," she said reluctantly. In a louder voice, she said, "Please allow me." She reached out a hand in a lifting motion. The flames under the stew roared up higher, and Pariah could feel the heat rise even at this distance. The increased light also revealed something else: the dwarves all bore crude and bloody bandages under their furs.
The newcomers reared back in surprise, but the woman beamed and said, "Now, that's more like it!" in a raspy voice.
The innkeeper scowled at Zariel. "You'll burn the stew," he chastised her.
"I will maintain it for only a short time," she assured him. "Just long enough for them to get warm."
He harrumphed but didn't say anything more as he gathered up the three mugs for the freezing dwarves.
Pariah noticed that, despite the hostility indicated towards wizards, nobody seemed upset that Zariel had obviously used magic. However she was intrigued by Zariel's hesitation. She leaned over and asked in a low voice, "Why didn't you want to help them?"
Zariel shook her head. "It wasn't that. It's just..." She trailed off. After a moment, she continued, "My ability to control fire is a vestige of my time as a fiend, a period of my life I'd rather forget."
"Oh," the tiefling replied as insight dawned. "I guess I can relate to that." Of course Pariah's returning magic wasn't the same as the power of someone who had actually been a devil, but at least she had an inkling of understanding. She added, "I found the idea of using my infernal power to help people made it easier to accept."
"As do I," Zariel sighed. "I still prefer to use what small power Lathander has granted over the traces of my infernal past."
The dwarves took the first round of meads. As they reached for the drinks, Pariah noticed that the female and the red-headed male were both missing fingers. She vaguely remembered that frostbite could do that and wondered if that also explained the man's missing nose. The dwarves drained the mugs in one motion. The bartender showed no surprise as he took the cups back, asking, "So what happened to you?" as he headed back to the bar for another round.
The woman blew on her hands and rubbed them together before saying, "We were escorting a load of iron ingots from Dwarven Valley to Blackiron Blades. We noticed some chwingas and stopped to watch them, but then we got ambushed by a yeti. He killed Oobok, literally tore his arms and legs off, and we had to abandon the sled and run. We were closer to here than the valley, so we came looking for help." She raised her voice slightly to address the room. "We've got two bloodstones for any group whose willing to go back and retrieve the sled, and a third if you bring back Oobok's body. Each stone is worth about twenty-five dragons. You would also earn the gratitude of the Battlehammer Clan, which is worth a lot more."
Someone snorted in derision. "Seventy-five gold to face a yeti? Dream on!"
"I'm sure the yeti is gone," the dwarven woman insisted. "It's only a day's travel there and another day back. That's a lot of money for two days' work." To her obvious disappointment, the attention of the patrons was already returning to their mugs of mead.
Pariah studied the woman, who seemed earnest and desperate. The tiefling didn't know what a yeti was, though from the reaction it was something to avoid. She couldn't help but think that going after the iron would get her away from her fated path.
"What do you think?" she asked Zariel. "It sounds pretty easy, if that creature doesn't show up."
The other woman seemed surprised. "I would be happy to lend a hand, but I'm not sure we are the best qualified. We don't know the area."
"Maybe they were following a road. Or maybe one of them can guide us to the spot."
Zariel mentally debated the point. "We are on another mission."
Pariah couldn't help but grimace. "You don't want to be so focused on your goal that you miss opportunities to help."
She had meant it mostly as an excuse to get out of town, but her statement seemed to leave an impression on Zariel. "That's a fair point," she admitted.
"Is that a yes?"
Zariel pushed her empty stew bowl away. "Perhaps," she said.
Jumping on the opportunity, Pariah said to the dwarves, who were draining their second round of meads, "How hard would it be to find this shipment? For someone not local, that is."
The female dwarf, who seemed to be the leader, said cautiously, "We could give you general directions but you might have to search a little."
"So it's not on a road or anything," Pariah said in disappointment.
"No," she admitted. "It's a path we often travel, but it's not marked."
"Could one of you come with us as a guide?"
"Maybe," she said slowly. She looked at the dwarf with the braided beard.
"No," he said firmly, looking up at the ceiling nervously. "No way."
She looked at the redhead and he just shook his head silently. The woman said, "I guess we're all too torn up. Maybe in a couple days, but I'd rather someone got out there quickly before it gets stolen. You could hire a local guide. Besides, it should probably be more than just the two of you. I mean the yeti is gone, I'm sure, but there are many dangers outside of the towns."
Pariah swirled the last of her mead in her mug as she thought about it. She wanted to head out quickly too, though in her case she was trying to avoid destiny's machinations. They could ask around about a guide and maybe a couple more swords.
A man's deep, rich voice said, "Perhaps we could go with you. I am investigating the chwingas in the area so would be interested in traveling to a site where they have been seen recently. And my companion here is an expert tracker so could take us to the spot without delay."
Pariah looked up to see who was speaking. It was the dark-skinned man with the bright scarf.
She resignedly put her face in her hands and muttered, "Mother f-"
Notes:
"Close the door!" is a nod to the 1951 version of "The Thing". It was kind of a running joke throughout the movie.
Zariel used control flames on the fire. Interestingly, making the flames burn higher and hotter is not one of the listed effects, but it seems reasonable.
I dialed down the reward for the ingot quest from 50 gp per person to 75 gp total. The ingots themselves are worth 150 gp so the module reward seems awfully high.
As part of my research, I've been reading about Inuit life, especially their diets, and read a few things about the Iditarod to get a feel for dog sleds, which will be important later.
The rest of these notes are musings about AI art.
NOTE: It has come to my attention that Discord has started expiring links, so many of these links are dead though some are still working. I'll rehost final pictures on Imgur but I doubt I'll find the time to move all of the intermediate images over. The same applies to future chapters where I talk about portraits for other characters.
I got the Midjourney AI art bug (damn you, LumendelMari!) and spent DAYS trying to create a decent picture of Pariah. Unfortunately, AI art is not good when you have specific details in mind. I can't get the curve and thickness of the horns right, her hair dark enough, etc. I've given up on things like the gouge at the base of her horn or her burn scars. To be fair, Midjourney has a lot of terms they won't use, so "burn scars" might be off limits. Anyhow, here are some of my attempts.
Pariah 1 and Pariah 2 both came from the same batch, and were the first ones that got the horns in the ballpark of the right shape so they were references for further attempts. The hair is too long and a little too light, and the blemishes on the face distorted all my efforts after. I had dumped the word "tiefling" because that gives a very specific horn style that doesn't fit my image of her. I want the thickness of oryx horns, and the shape of ibex horns. I used the prompt "20-year-old woman with thin ibex horns growing from the center of her forehead, horns curve back over the top of her head, pale skin, dark blue mohawk, leather armor " and did a few variants before getting these two images.
Pariah 3 has some details I really like. I love her facial expression, her hair style and the bleakness of the background. The horns are awful, and her hair is too blue-green. And of course we have facial blemishes, though I could have lived with those. I'm also frustrated that all women (and a lot of the men) have earrings.
Pariah 4 was a really jarring change of style Midjourney dumped on me. I mean I don't hate it, though again the hair color is way off. And earrings again! But the facial blemishes look more like wind chapped skin, which works, and the hair style is pretty close, though too long.
Pariah 5 is one of my latest ones. Horns too thick, she looks a little too old, the makeup doesn't really work for her character.
I finally gave up on getting a really good one. I settled on a variant of Pariah 3 that led to my final version. The horns are wrong, the hair color is wrong, and we have the dark smudges around the eyes, but I like the composition and I like the basic face. I feel like this is as close as I'm going to get. I might go back and try again later once I have some more experience.
I've done images of all of them, but since I tend to ramble a lot on the subject of Midjourney, I'll talk about different characters at the end of each chapter.
Chapter 7: Circle of Strangers
Summary:
Zariel and Pariah meet two men who appear to be on the same path as they are.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 19, 1496 (3 days after the New Moon)
"Please, come join us," Zariel said warmly to the men at the other table. She called out to the bartender, "Another round, if you please."
Pariah lifted her head out of her hands and forced a smile at the other two. The dark-skinned man with the bright scarf was bringing his chair over to join them. The larger man, his red hair nearly brushing the ceiling now that he was standing, was also carrying his chair but had stopped to talk to the female dwarf.
Zariel stood and held out her hand. "I'm Zariel Dawnseeker. This is Lulu and Pariah."
The dark-skinned man shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I am called Dejen Vareno," he said with a nervous smile. He gestured towards the larger man and said, "And his name is Bjarnson Dhustan." He furrowed his brow as he looked over at the man, who was still talking to the dwarves. "I think that's his name, anyhow. We just met today."
"What were those creatures you said you were studying?" Zariel asked as she took her seat again.
Dejen beamed. "Chwingas -- playful nature spirits common in Icewind Dale. Well, a number of places actually, but the ones here are clearly tied to the elements of winter: snow, cold wind, that sort of thing. I was hoping that studying them and their behavior might give me some insight into the Everlasting Rime."
Pariah studied him intently. "And why do you want to study the Everlasting Rime?" she asked suspiciously.
He was surprised by her tone, his dark eyes widening. "It's an unusual phenomenon," he replied. "And, of course, quite a burden on Ten-Towns and the Reghedmen. Many people have been trying to figure out what it is so that they can stop it."
A high-pitched voice said sharply, "The Everlasting Rime is a blessing from the Frostmaiden. It is blasphemy of the worst order to try to stop it."
Pariah saw it was the teenage boy, one of the three wearing the snowflake pendants. He was eyeing Dejen angrily.
The bartender was bringing their drinks and said, "Pipe down, boy. We all pay our respects to Auril, but I won't have you preaching in my inn."
The sturdy, middle-aged man put the mugs down on the table and snatched up the coins Zariel left for him. The boy glared at him and mumbled something under his breath. Pariah couldn't hear him, but apparently the innkeeper did because his face hardened.
"What was that, boy?" he asked sternly without turning around. "I'm old and my hearing isn't so good. Maybe you want to say that louder."
The entire tavern went dead silent as the crowd turned to watch the exchange. The boy's face turned red, a combination of embarrassment and anger. The half-elf sitting next to him put a hand on the boy's arm. The kid looked at him and the man shook his head. The boy puffed out a breath and then mumbled sullenly, "Nothing."
A sense of disappointment went through the crowd as they realized no fight was going to break out. The innkeeper gave the table a smile before returning to his place behind the bar. Bjarnson, his business with the dwarves done, joined them at the table. His chair creaked ominously under his weight as he sat down.
As the low mutter of conversation resumed among the customers, Pariah asked in a low voice, "What was that all about?"
Dejen shrugged with a bewildered look, but Bjarnson snorted. "Damned cultists," he said in a gravely voice. His contempt was clear, but he also kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. "There's more of them every day. People who are desperate, hopeless, or just stupid and think that embracing this disaster will somehow elevate them in Auril's eyes and they'll sit at her right hand when the end comes." He clucked his tongue. "Idiots, but dangerous idiots. They have the ears of too many people."
Zariel asked, "Is the man in the marketplace one of them?"
"What man?"
"A man with the trade caravan. He wasn't dressed for the cold, and claimed to be immune."
"Oh, that one," Bjarnson said with understanding. "I'm not sure of his story. He showed up a couple months ago, started traveling with Torg's. I think he was born on Midwinter or something like that."
"Yes, that's what he told us," Zariel said as she took a drink.
Pariah didn't want to get off track from what she'd been asking before. She turned to Dejen, who was nibbling on his thumbnail and pointedly staring at the burned skin on her hands. "You never answered my question. Why are you studying the Everlasting Rime? You aren't local. You paid a lot of money to get here."
Dejen looked up, stunned. "How do you know that?" he stammered.
"We were sent here by Traxigor." Then, realizing her comment might be misunderstood, added, "I mean he transported us here when I asked him to. He said you came through a couple of days ago. Why?"
The other man was confused. "I heard about the Everlasting Rime when I was at Candlekeep. I wanted to see it for myself. I'm intrigued by unusual magical phenomena."
Pariah's mouth tightened. He was definitely nervous about something, but she couldn't tell if he was lying or not. "So you didn't come here because of a dream? Or because some god or devil sent you?"
His nervousness faded and his confusion increased. He stuttered for a moment and finally said weakly, "What?"
"Pariah," Zariel chided her gently. "I think that's enough. It doesn't matter why he's here."
Pariah harrumphed, but didn't see any point in continuing to press the issue. Even if he was another tool of fate, he wasn't the one she was annoyed at. "Never mind," she said dismissively.
Zariel leaned forward and said, "Please, tell us more about your investigations."
Dejen looked back and forth between the two women, and spared Lulu a glance as well, before replying. "I'm afraid there hasn't been much of an investigation yet. I've been asking around, getting stories from the locals, trying to figure out a chain of events. Unfortunately, nobody really knows what happened. Most people believe it is somehow related to a minor deity named Auril, the goddess of winter's fury."
Pariah said, "We also heard it might be some magical artifact or wizards. Certainly there seems to be a lot of hostility towards wizards, from what I've seen."
He nodded knowingly. "True. At first I was careful not to use my own magical abilities, but I quickly came to realize that people aren't afraid of magic; they are afraid of wizards, specifically Luskan wizards." He shook his head. "I hear that one is about to be executed in Easthaven, and it's not clear to me if he even committed any crimes."
"They seem pretty fond of death, here," she snorted. "I hear they even sacrifice people to Auril."
Dejen's face grew somber. "I didn't believe that when I first heard it, though I'm not sure why I didn't. People are capable of great evil."
Zariel said grimly, "Especially when afraid or desperate. Strong emotions can twist even the purest minds into believing the most reprehensible acts to be just."
Dejen, missing the gravity of Zariel's tone, plunged on. "Anyhow, so my inquiries led me to a local scholar who had been studying the chwingas. She thought that their ties to the natural order might give her some insight into the Rime, and asked that I try to capture one. Unfortunately they are shy and evasive, so difficult to find. She gave me a lantern," he patted the hooded lantern hanging from his belt, "that can apparently reveal the presence of elemental spirits in the area. I've tried it several times but had no success."
Pariah looked more closely at the lantern. There wasn't anything special about its design other than perhaps it was a bit more ornate than normal, and inscribed with the symbols of the four elements. She guessed that it had some minor magical charm.
"That's not surprising," he continued. "The chwingas tend to stay away from the larger towns like Bryn Shander, so I knew I'd have to explore further out. I asked around about a guide, and found Bjarnson here," he gestured to the large man next to him. "We were just finalizing his terms over a drink and had planned to set out tomorrow." He turned to the other man. "I suppose we could go to the location of the yeti attack, if you think that's advisable."
Bjarnson scowled. "I asked the dwarves for directions, and I'm familiar with the area they lost the sled. It's not far, about a day's walk. I tend to agree that the yeti has probably moved on. If there were chwingas in the area, then it's not near a yeti lair so the beast must have just been passing. We might as well recover the sled. There's a bonus if we bring back the dwarf's body, or at least what we can find of it." He took a deep drink.
Pariah was trying to think of a way to get out of the trip, still hoping to escape fate, but was starting to become resigned to her future.
Before she could speak, Dejen said brightly, "So what brings you here? It's such an odd coincidence that you were also sent by Traxigor."
Pariah gave an annoyed snort, which brought a puzzled look to his face.
Zariel covered by saying, "We are also here investigating the Everlasting Rime. I'm a devoted worshiper of Lathander, and I occasionally get portentous dreams. I was drawn here by one of these visions."
Dejen nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes, I can see how the disappearance of the sun would be of concern to the Morninglord."
Bjarnson gave a sharp laugh, which surprised everyone at the table. "Sorry," he said. "Just be careful about calling Lathander the Morninglord in front of the local priest." When everyone looked confused, he continued, "Oh, Mishann's a good gal, priest of the only surviving temple here, the Temple of the Morninglord, and that's devoted to Amaunator. She gets downright testy when people call Lathander the Morninglord."
Zariel's befuddlement increased. "But he is..." She stopped and waved off her own comment. "Never mind. I'll remember that. I had actually wanted to speak to her before we left, one sun god devotee to another."
He laughed again. "I think she'd like that," he said with genuine feeling.
"What about you, little angel?" Dejen asked Lulu in a somewhat patronizing tone. "Are you a friend of Lathander's, too?"
Lulu stood up on the table and put her hands on her hips. Angrily she yelled up at him, "I'm not a child!"
"Of course not," he said even more condescendingly. "You're such a big girl."
Lulu was fuming now. "I'll stomp you flat!"
Dejen laughed in delight, and Pariah snapped at him, "That's enough! I've known Lulu for a long time. She's faced down monsters who would have you running away peeing yourself. She's fought off archdevils. Treat her with respect."
Well, technically Bel hadn't been an archdevil at the time Lulu fought him, but close enough.
Dejen was nonplussed. Pariah reminded herself that she had had much the same reaction when she first met Lulu in Traxigor's lab before her trip to Avernus. The man looked back and forth between Pariah and Zariel, the latter also looking quite angry. He said, "I'm sorry. I had no idea."
It was obvious from his tone he didn't believe her, but there was no point in continuing to argue. She heard Zariel take a calming breath and release it. The woman said, "Lulu, anger is not an emotion we should entertain. Let us remain calm. The man merely made a mistake."
Lulu was still glaring up at him. She crossed her arms and made a "hmph" noise.
Zariel continued, "And, to answer your question, yes she has been sent by Lathander as my guide and my friend."
Looking to change the subject, Pariah turned to Bjarnson and said, "What will we need for the trip? We're new to the area. I know the merchant in the plaza talked about goggles and special shoes and some other things."
He nodded. "I can go with you and help you pick up what you need. We should leave early, so we might want to get your equipment tonight. I assume none of you have a sled?"
Pariah remembered the dog sleds in the marketplace. She shook her head, as did Dejen. Bjarnson didn't seem bothered by that. "It'll take longer on foot, but we should still make it in a day barring complications. And there are always complications. Then we'll find a place to shelter, and come back the next day." His face grew stern, at least what she could see past his bushy beard. "I'll tell you three what I told him. What I say goes. No argument. This land will kill you if you aren't careful. Listen to me and stay alive. Ignore me, and I won't even bother dragging your bodies back."
Pariah wanted to mention that she'd travelled through Hell, but knew he wouldn't believe her. She settled for saying, "I grew up in the slums of Baldur's Gate. Believe me, I saw plenty of new people get eaten alive by the city because they ignored advice from the locals. I'll listen to you."
Zariel and Lulu, who had calmed down, agreed. Bjarnson gave a satisfied grunt.
Pariah said, "Torg's seems pretty expensive. We were going to check out Blackiron Blades for equipment."
He looked indecisive. "You're right; Torrga's prices are crazy because she doesn't have much competition. But Blackiron stuff is garbage. Survival is not something you want to cheap out on. If you can afford it, get the stuff from Torg's."
Pariah tapped a finger absentmindedly on the table. "My purse is getting pretty light. I wonder if we can manage an advance from the dwarves."
Bjarnson opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Zariel said, "I can afford to fund our expedition."
"Are you sure?" Pariah asked her hesitantly. She'd spent too many years depending on handouts and, now that she was more capable, preferred paying her own way.
"Of course," Zariel insisted. "You have already been a great help, and I know you are here only reluctantly. I have been blessed with good fortune, and I'm happy to do what I can to ease our journey."
Bjarnson turned to Dejen. "My price assumed I was guiding only you. If it's three people..."
"Four," Lulu insisted.
Bjarnson looked at her in surprise and then smiled, "Four, of course. Anyhow, my price for this group will be three dragons per day, in advance. Since I expect it to take two days, that's six dragons."
While Zariel and Dejen counted out their coins, Pariah said, "Does this mean you aren't taking a share of the reward?"
"If we make it back, I'll deduct the six from my share."
Pariah's brow furrowed. "The fact you want to be paid up front makes it sound like you think we aren't going to make it back."
He shrugged. "I don't know any of you, and you're all outsiders, not used to the hardships of the area. I'll do my best to keep you alive, that's part of what you're paying for, but the only one I know is going to make it back is me."
His tone wasn't arrogant, just matter-of-fact. Pariah couldn't help but smiling. "That seems fair."
As Zariel handed over her four gold coins, Pariah made a mental note of the debt, though she was fairly certain the other woman didn't care. Zariel's shortcomings even as a devil hadn't seemed to include greed. They all seemed to be done with the current round of food and drink, so Pariah said, "Let's go back to the market and get what we need, so we can leave in the morning."
Bjarnson grunted in acknowledgment. Zariel and Lulu seemed amenable. Dejen said, "You don't need me for this, so I think I'll retire to my room." He stood. "I shall see you all in the morning."
As he made his way towards the stairs, the others stood as well. The innkeeper called over, "Can you turn the fire down now?"
The three dwarves had moved away from the stove to a table, where they were working on their third round of hot mead. Zariel said quickly, "Of course." She made a lowering motion of her hand, and the fire in the stove grew dimmer. The innkeeper nodded acknowledgment and went back to his conversation.
Bjarnson led the way. A gust of icy wind blew in as he headed out of the inn, and a voice from behind them yelled, "Close the door!"
As they hurried down the dimly lit street towards the marketplace, Pariah wondered if they should have stopped to grab their boots and gloves. Well, they shouldn't be out long. She wrapped the cloak tightly around her, flipped up the hood, and jammed her hands into its large pockets.
Bjarnson was walking at the back of the group. Pariah dropped back to walk beside him and asked, "What's Torg's story?"
He looked down at her from his foot of extra height. "Story? They are a caravan that travels through most of Ten-Towns plus the Dwarven Valley twice a month. A few traders might make the journey to one of the larger towns, but they are the only one that does the full circuit."
"Then you trust them?"
"Trust them?" he grunted. "In what way?"
Pariah looked to make sure Zariel was still at the front of the group and probably out of earshot. "I know a thug when I see one." She didn't have a problem buying stolen items, but figured the other woman might object.
"Oh," Bjarnson laughed. "Well, I wouldn't ask her where she gets her goods, but she usually sells quality stuff."
"Even if you sometimes have to clean the blood off?" she asked dryly.
"Something like that."
They arrived to see Torg's was still open. "Bjarnson," Torrga called out from her pile of furs. "It's been a long time. You don't usually buy from me."
He grunted, "I'm not. Newcomers need some supplies. I'm just along to make sure they get what they need."
Pariah ended up being glad he had come. Torrga tried to talk them into several items, but Bjarnson insisted all they needed were goggles and snowshoes, and he checked the fit on both sets of snowshoes to be sure they were snug. Rope was important in case of a blizzard to avoid getting separated, but several of them carried lengths of rope already.
When they were done, Zariel looked up at the sky as though to judge the time. "I'd like to visit the Temple of the Morninglord this evening. Where would I find that?"
Bjarnson's brow furrowed. "I haven't been there, but I think it's that way." He pointed down one of the streets leading out of the square. Based on her growing knowledge of the layout of the town, Pariah estimated that direction was northeast.
Zariel turned to Torrga. "Do you know where it is?"
"He's right," the woman said. "It's that way. The road forks left before the gate. It's just a house but it has a sun symbol above the door."
"What business do you have there?" a man's voice asked sharply. Pariah saw it was the caravan guard who wore no cold weather clothing. He was watching them suspiciously.
Zariel paused, surprised by his question. "I wish to speak to a priest of the sun god, and to pray." She cocked her head. "Why do you ask?"
He glared at her and said, "There are those who speak against the glory of Auril and those who serve in her name, like the priest there. I hope you do not share her blasphemous views."
She said firmly, "I think my comings and goings are none of your concern." She turned away from him to Pariah. "I am going to visit the temple. Will you come?"
"Of course." Pariah would have accompanied her anyhow, but the man's hostile attitude made her think it wasn't a good idea for her to travel to the temple alone.
Bjarnson said, "I'll return to The Northlook, then. We'll get together in the morning and head out."
Zariel smiled at him. "Thank you for your help this evening. We shall see you in the morning." She turned and started down the indicated road, Pariah close behind. The strange caravan guardsman watched them disappear from sight.
They reached the fork in the road, bore left, and found the temple. As Torrga had said, it was just a modest, two-story house distinguished only by the snow-dusted wooden sign with a twelve-pointed sun painted on it that hung above the door, and the second sign that read, "Worshipers, please enter" hanging from a nail on the front door.
Zariel pushed open the door and called out, "Hello?" as she entered the space. Pariah, who had been watching behind them, took one last look around to ensure that nobody was around before she followed Zariel and closing the door.
The interior had been converted to a makeshift shrine. A motley collection of wooden chairs and benches had been arranged in rows in front of a small dining table that probably served as an altar. A cream-colored cat was sleeping in one of the chairs. It raised its head to watch the visitors.
Behind the altar, another twelve-pointed star was hung on the wall. There was a stove in a corner that burned warmly and the expected fishy smell in the air. The room was otherwise lit by several lanterns hanging from hooks around the room. Two doorways led out, one closed and one blocked by a curtain that was fraying at the bottom. A stairway led up along the left wall.
"Out in a moment," a woman's voice called out from another room. "Make yourself at home."
"Thank you," Zariel called back.
Pariah opened her coat to let in the warmth. The temperature here was quite pleasant, better than the cool air of The Northlook. Zariel knelt before the altar and folded her hands. Lulu flew out of Zariel's cloak, settled on her shoulder, and lowered her head to pray. Pariah felt a little awkward, since she wasn't a "kneel before the gods" type. She settled for sitting in the chair next to the cat and scratching its head. Bits of drool dripped from its lips as it purred softly.
She heard footsteps from the curtained doorway. A woman passed through the curtain and opened her mouth, but then snapped it shut when she saw Zariel in prayer. She nodded with a smile to Pariah, who returned the greeting. She then did a double take, looking back at Lulu as her eyebrows slowly climbed towards her hairline. Another cream-colored cat followed her into the room, and took up a spot in the corner to look out over the room.
The woman was around fifty with hair of fading blonde wrapped in a tight bun. Her expression was bright and friendly, though the smooth skin of her face was marked by several small scars. Her clothing was a simple homespun shirt and leather pants, both sturdy but showing a hint of wear. She wore a leather glove on her right hand, and around her neck hung a sun pendant.
Zariel raised her head and turned to the woman. She stood and extended her hand. "Hello, I am Zariel."
The woman shook her hand. "May the Morninglord's light bless you." Her eyes fell on Zariel's ring and her mouth tightened. "You worship Lathander?" she asked in a tone less friendly than before.
"I do," Zariel said, slightly confused. "I have heard you dislike it when people call Lathander the Morninglord, but I wouldn't think you oppose his worship."
The woman pursed her lips. "No," she said reluctantly, "just as long as you know his place. Amaunator is the true Morninglord. Lathander came later and usurped some of his power. Now that's just divine politics, but people shouldn't forget the true Sun God."
"Of course," Zariel said diplomatically. "Worshippers of the sun should be allies during this terrible, endless winter."
The other woman made an approving noise. "That's true," she admitted as she relaxed. "I'm Mishann, by the way, the priest of this shrine." She looked at Lulu expectantly.
"I'm Lulu," the little angel said, though her tone was a little standoffish.
"And you were sent by Lathander?"
"No, I came myself. I'm her friend."
That hadn't been the answer Mishann had been expecting and she was nonplussed for a moment. She turned to Pariah, who had stood during this conversation and walked over.
"I'm Pariah," she said. "We're here looking into the Everlasting Rime."
"So is everyone," she sighed in despair. "Every night I pray for guidance on how to end this terrible darkness and return the Morninglord's blessing to this land, but he remains silent."
Lulu said, "Maybe we're his answer."
Mishann eyed the little angel skeptically, and grunted, "Yeah, maybe." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "You might want to talk to Copper." She pointed towards the ceiling. "My tenant. He has a friend who's been building a..." She trailed off and looked around as though someone might be listening before whispering, "...a device to end the Rime."
"Oh?" said Zariel in interest. "Perhaps we should speak with him."
"Well, not tonight. He's away right now, but he'll be back in a few days. In the meantime, you are welcome to pray here, as long as you aren't praying to Auril. That evil worship has no place here."
"Of course," Zariel agreed.
"I say a prayer outside the East Gate every dawn, which around here is pretty late in the morning, and then a service here right after. " She sighed, "Not much attendance nowadays."
"I'll try," Zariel said. "I think we are leaving early tomorrow, though we'll be back. I don't know if we'll still be here for the dawn service." She cocked her head. "I did want to ask you about the death at the Temple of the Triad."
Mishann's face grew dark. "It was those damn Aurilites," she snapped. "I know it! They practically brag about it, and the ice all over the temple is a sure sign of the Frostmaiden. But that useless Southwell won't do anything about it. They threaten me all the time, saying I'm blaspheming the Auril's name. Well, you're gods damned right I'm blaspheming her! She's overstepped her bounds. Winter's fury, fine, but blocking the Morninglord's blessing is over the line! I've thrown them out of here plenty of times, burned them with His light now and then, but they keep coming back."
"Are you safe?" Zariel asked in concern. She turned to Pariah, "Perhaps we should stay here tonight."
The priest waved her off. "No, no. I appreciate the offer, but I can take care of myself. They're just a bunch of idiots playing at faith. People like me..." She eyed Zariel. "...and maybe you, we know real faith. I'm not afraid of them. The Morninglord will keep me safe. And if he's busy, my mace and crossbow make a damn good substitute."
"All right," Zariel smiled at her. "I'll stop by tomorrow before we leave, even if it's before dawn."
Mishann gave her a grin. "I'll be here. Come on in as long as the sign's up, and it's up most of the time."
Pariah suddenly asked, "What about that guy in the marketplace who doesn't dress for the cold. He worships Auril and doesn't seem like a harmless idiot."
Mishann's grin faded, replaced by a look of worry. "Sephek Kaltro," she said. "And you're not wrong about him. I'm always on extra guard the two days he's in town. Luckily, the caravan travels a predictable two-week route. The third and fourth day after the New Moon and the Full Moon, they are here in Bryn Shander. The rest of the month, I can rest a little easier."
Zariel reached out to shake her hand again. "We should go. The trip here was more tiring than I thought. We'll see you in the morning."
"Looking forward to it," Mishann said, waving to Lulu and Pariah.
She walked them to the door, making sure to shut it tightly behind them. As Pariah drew her cloak tightly around her, she thought the priest should be locking the door if the Aurilites were actually threatening her. Let worshipers knock to be let in. But temples, understandably, tended towards being as accessible as possible.
Lulu had burrowed into Zariel's cloak. She poked her head out and said, "I don't know if I like her or not. I didn't like what she said about Lathander."
"I liked her," Zariel said. "Her confusion about Lathander was understandable, and she doesn't ban his worship. She just wants a clear distinction between the two deities which, while not exactly right, isn't exactly wrong either."
Pariah said emphatically, "I liked her, too. She believes in what she preaches, and she's willing to stand up to the cult. Oh, dammit, I wanted to ask her about the sacrifices."
"As did I," Zariel said. "I suppose we got distracted. Well, we can ask her tomorrow."
They trudged on into the freezing night of Bryn Shander, headed back to The Overlook for a last drink before retiring to their room.
Notes:
In case it seems like a typo, Torg's is the name of the business and Torrga is the name of the proprietor.
The character sheets below were created before I started messing with Midjourney, so use character images I found on the web rather than their final images.
Dejen Level 1. He uses LaserLlama's Alternate Artificer and specializes in Archivist from Alternate Artificer Expanded. His character sheet is heavily homebrewed, but unfortunately I can't change everything. In particular, he shouldn't have Thieves' Tools proficiency, any spellcasting, or Magical Tinkering.
Bjarnson Level 1. He will take LaserLlama's Alternate Circle of the Land. Not surprisingly, he will typically use Arctic. No character sheet homebrewing required yet.
More AI art musings ahead, this time about Zariel.
I discovered that when you try to make a picture of a blonde woman, you get pouty lipped 16 year olds who look ready for a fashion magazine photo shoot. I even said "30-year-old woman" and "40-year-old woman" and got these cute little sex kittens. I finally got this one which wasn't bad, though the armor is too ornate and that thing around her neck looks kind of bizarre. It scaled up to this nonsense with all those funky things on her face. However, even using the smaller one as a reference image, the results often moved back into "young and sexy".
I avoided words like "aasimar" and "paladin" because they have too many preconceptions I didn't like. I wanted her armor kind of battered, but wasn't able to manage that. I couldn't get it to give her topaz colored eyes no matter what words I used; the best I managed was a yellow glow around her blue eyes.
I ran into the same issue I had with Pariah, something I call "face cancer". Freckles, sparkles, plague blotches, and general glitchy spots were very common. Upscaling an image often makes the glitches way worse. Here's an example. I know that it's common to export an image, clean it up in an editing program, and then import it back as a reference. I did that some with Pariah and it helped, but not much.
The AI sometimes drifted into odd interpretations of "40-year-old woman" such as three of the four images in this one.
Once I tried putting a helmet on her, I found her hair often clipped the helmet so I had to toss a lot of images that otherwise looked good.
Anyhow, I finally decided to accept one as the final Zariel image. This image was actually generated pretty early in the process. I was trying to get away from ornate armor, silky hair, and (sigh) crap on her cheeks, but in the end this was the best one generated.
I played around with some full body shots, trying to create Lathander's symbol for her shield, and a scene of her fighting zombies but none of these gave me what I wanted.
I also got this dramatic image among all my fiddling.
Chapter 8: Into the Treacherous Wilderness
Summary:
In the darkness of their first full morning in Bryn Shander, the group prepares to head out into the freezing wilderness to find the lost iron shipment.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
Pariah rubbed her belly with a groan as she exited The Northlook. They had shared breakfast with Dejen and Bjarnson, and the latter had insisted that they eat all they could, including a healthy slab of something he called walrus blubber. She wasn't put off when he explained it was pure animal fat, as she'd spent too many years having to eat anything she could get her hands on.
"Expect to eat a lot more than you're used to," he had said. "Especially large amounts of fat. You'll burn a lot of energy in the cold, and you have to eat to keep up."
The four of them were bundled up against the cold, and carrying their packs for travel. The woolens under Pariah's armor certainly helped keep her warm. For the moment she didn't have her scarf across her face, and her goggles were in a pocket of her cloak. It didn't take long for her face to start to get numb as they started to walk towards the plaza down the lamplit streets.
She looked up at the dark sky. "Does it ever get light here?" she asked.
Bjarnson said, "For a few hours at midday, but not even as bright as the full moon, since the sun never actually rises. Right now the sky's at its darkest. It will be better in a week or so as the moon fills out."
Pariah sighed a thick cloud of misty breath. "And to think I objected to heat and eternal day," she laughed.
The big man, who did have his scarf across his mouth leaving only his eyes exposed, gave her a puzzled look. "Where was that?"
She had learned a long time ago that nobody believed her, so she shrugged. "That's kind of a long story. Let's just say a place very far away."
Dejen asked, "Is that where you got burned?" Then he hesitated. "Oh, forgive me. That was a little blunt, wasn't it?"
Pariah waved off his apology. She wasn't vain about her scars. "Actually, no. My burns didn't happen there." That was technically true; she hadn't been in Avernus at that moment.
"Might I ask how they did happen?"
Pariah said, "That's another long story." She turned a very serious face on him and said, "I will just say that you should be very careful when talking to a dragon who has hay fever."
Bjarnson laughed loudly. Dejen looked confused, as though unsure if she was telling the truth, and gave her a weak smile in return.
They reached the marketplace. A few more people were there than before, and it was hard to tell which were the customers and which were the guards. Well, other than the man who didn't feel the cold, the man Mishann had called Kaltro, who leaned against his usual wall watching everything with sharp eyes of icy blue. Torrga was pacing around behind her crates, and Pariah wasn't sure if she was upset or just moving around to stay warm. They headed towards the road that led to Amaunator's temple.
"The wind seems to have died down since last night," Zariel said conversationally. The wind still cut through the streets of the city, but it did seem to be less severe than before
Bjarnson gave a grunt. "Storm's coming. I can feel it. Wind'll pick up in a couple of hours. May even get snow or ice fall."
"Will that be a problem for us?" Pariah asked.
He hemmed and hawed. "It'll slow us down. As long as it's not too bad, it won't send us off course. Might add an hour to our travel time."
Dejen said, "But you can navigate through all that, right?"
"Yes."
They arrived at the temple. The welcome sign was hanging, so Zariel led the way inside and called out, "Mishann, it's Zariel. We're here for services."
"Coming out," the priest called back from behind the curtained entryway.
Bjarnson was the last inside and closed the door behind them. The air was warm enough that they all divested themselves of their furs, draping them across the backs of chairs before taking their seats. Lulu sat on the back of the bench next to Zariel.
Mishann came through the curtain with a welcoming smile. She was dressed in a long red robe covered in yellow suns. The fabric of the robe was getting a little thin and frayed along the bottom. In her left hand she carried a wooden staff with a brass sun mounted on top. "May the Morninglord's light bless you." Her face brightened. "Oh, I see you've brought more worshipers." She nodded towards the Turami man and said, "Dejen, I'm pleased to see you've returned."
He inclined his head respectfully. "It's my honor, sunlord. We all can benefit from Amaunator's blessing in this dark time."
She turned to the last member of the group and said, "I'm Mishann, priest of this humble shrine. And you are?"
"Bjarnson," he said gruffly.
She didn't seem bothered by his tone as she turned to walk behind the makeshift altar. "Normally, this prayer is done outside the East Gate as the sky lightens, but I think the Morninglord can hear our prayers in here."
The ceremony wasn't all that long. Pariah hadn't been to a Lathander or Amaunator service before, but tried to recite responses as best she could. Zariel and Lulu participated with zeal, and Dejen seemed to know the liturgy as well. Bjarnson remained silent though attentive throughout.
Shortly after the ceremony started, the door opened and a short figure came in, bundled in furs and carrying a travel pack. Mishann gave the newcomer a look of annoyance but continued. He took a seat at the back and opened his cloak to reveal he was a dwarf, though his build was slim for his kind. His skin was yellowish brown, roughened by long exposure to the outdoors, and he had a dark and recent bruise around one of his sad, gray eyes. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard were shaggy and unkempt; Pariah had rarely seen a dwarf who didn't take care of his beard.
When Mishann was done, she came forward to give each of them a two-handed handshake, and asked the Morninglord to watch over each of them in their travels. She even took Lulu's hand between two fingers to give her the same blessing. The last person she visited was the dwarf. After the blessing, she said, "I haven't seen you in this shrine before. I'm Mishann, the priest here." There was an implied question in her tone.
The dwarf said, "Just passing through. Don't normally get to Bryn Shander. Didn't realize there was a service going on."
"Was there something you needed?"
He hesitated. "No, just getting out of the cold for a little prayer," he lied badly.
The obvious lie made Pariah suspicious, especially since Mishann had said the Aurilites were after here. The tiefling said, "And what is your opinion on Auril?"
She thought the question might trip him up, but anger flashed in his gray eyes. "I think she's a cold-hearted bitch and I'm wondering why Amaunator hasn't kicked her icy arse from here to Mount Celestia and back!"
The intensity of his answer surprised everyone in the room. After a moment of stunned silence, Mishann said, "Well, all are welcome here." She added conspiratorially, "Especially those who are no friend to Auril."
"We should go," said Bjarnson. His tone wasn't rude or surly, but it was firm.
"In a moment," said Zariel. She turned to Mishann and said, "This probably merits a longer conversation, but I'm curious about your opinion on the sacrifices carried out in Bryn Shander."
Mishann's smile was quickly replaced with an angry scowl. "I speak out against them every single New Moon. I go to the lottery and preach to a bunch of scared people who won't listen. I bless the poor soul selected," she shook her head, "but I don't know what good that does. I've harangued the speaker to the point she won't even meet with me anymore."
"Does nobody else object to such a barbaric practice?"
"A few," the priest admitted, "but not many. People are scared, not just of Auril but of her followers. Those who speak out, well, we already talked about the destruction of the Church of the Triad." She pursed her lips. "Southwell, the sheriff, says he can't arrest anyone for it. There's no proof." Her anger faded. "And Duvessa, er Speaker Shane that is, she's doing the best she can, I guess. At least here it's a voluntary lottery, unlike Easthaven and Targos where anybody can be taken. Targos takes people as young as twelve! But here, enough people are willing to risk themselves to save their friends or their kids that there are plenty of stones to pick from the lottery jar each new moon."
"What does Amaunator say?"
Mishann hugged herself. "He's so distant nowadays. I can barely hear him, barely see his signs. I can't believe a minor deity like Auril can block someone of Amaunator's stature. She must have access to some incredible source of power, but I can't imagine what that could be. But I have faith. I persevere." With a sour look at Zariel's ring, she added reluctantly, "And maybe you have been sent by the usurper to help."
Zariel didn't seem offended by the remark. She reached out to squeeze Mishann's shoulder and promised, "When we return, we'll talk about what we can do to end the sacrifices."
"You would end the sacrifices?" the dwarf asked. Pariah was surprised that he was still lingering.
"Of course," Zariel said to him in surprise. "Wouldn't you?"
A range of emotions flashed across his face as his mouth struggled for an answer. "That's easier said than done," he said finally. He scratched his jaw and said, "You're going after the iron for Hruna, right?"
"Was that her name?" Zariel asked. "I guess we didn't ask her name. But if you mean the dwarves in The Northlook last night, then yes."
Pariah asked him, "How do you know that?"
He turned his sad eyes on her. "I was there at the Northlook. I heard you volunteer. I thought about it overnight and wondered if you wanted a fifth member. You'll need it if the yeti is still around, and I used to be a scout for the Dwarven Valley militia so I know this land better than I know my own house."
The rest of the group looked at each other in inquiry, but Pariah had eyes only for the dwarf. There was something shady about him, though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She had plenty of shady friends back in the Outer City. However, she was concerned about heading out into the wilderness with a stranger who made her just a little nervous.
"How'd you get the shiner?" she asked.
He looked guilty, like he'd been caught at something. "I got mugged last night." Another lie.
She turned to the rest of the group. "I think four's a good number." She looked at Lulu and said apologetically, "Sorry, five." She turned back to the newcomer. "I don't think we need another."
Zariel turned to her in surprise. "I think one can never have too many allies, especially if this land is as dangerous as Bjarnson says."
"I agree," said Dejen enthusiastically. "Especially since you are a local. I am trying to talk to as many locals as possible. Oh and if you were a scout, you probably have amazing insight on how the climate has changed as a result of the Everlasting Rime."
Bjarnson was giving him a hard look. "Another body means you pay me another dragon per day to guide you, so that's two dragons up front."
The dwarf sniffed in frustration. "I don't need a guide."
"If you come, you pay," the big man said sternly.
The dwarf tapped his foot impatiently. "Fine, two dragons," he grumbled as he fished out the coins.
Zariel stepped forward, hand extended. "I'm Zariel."
He paused, his eyes darting across everyone's faces as he considered his answer. Finally he said, "I'm Eberic."
Pariah lashed her tail. That hadn't seemed to be a lie, but she was pretty sure he had just considered giving them an alias. It looked like he was coming regardless of her objection, but she was going to keep an eye on him.
They all introduced themselves and Bjarnson again said they needed to get moving, so they bundled up, said goodbye to Mishann, and headed back out into the cold, dark night.
As they reached the main road, Bjarnson started back towards the marketplace. Pariah stopped, pointed the other way and said, "Aren't we going out the gate?"
The large man kept walking and said over his shoulder, "North Gate leads in the right direction."
Pariah hadn't moved to follow him. "It shouldn't make much difference. Let's go out the East Gate."
Bjarnson stopped and turned. His face was bundled up so she couldn't see his expression as he studied her.
Zariel put her hands on her hips. "You just want to avoid the sheriff," she accused. When Zariel had asked him over breakfast, Bjarnson had told them that the sheriff would likely be in the Town Hall just off the marketplace.
"Well, no," Pariah lied. "I just think we should get moving rather than wasting hours on bureaucratic nonsense."
Eberic said, "I agree with her. Let's go out the East Gate."
Pariah suspected he, too, wanted to avoid the sheriff and, while that caused her some concern, she was glad to have someone on her side.
"We are supposed to check in with him," Zariel reminded Pariah.
"We can do that when we get back. If we aren't staying in town today, then he won't mind us not reporting to him. He'll probably be glad to be rid of suspicious outsiders."
Lulu had poked her head out of Zariel's cloak to watch the conversation, but said nothing.
Bjarnson rumbled, "Well, figure it out. Daylight's burning."
Pariah pointedly looked up to the dark sky and then back at him with her eyebrows raised.
"You know what I mean," he grumbled.
The tiefling chuckled to show she hadn't meant anything by it. "See?" she said to Zariel, but kept her tone light. "Daylight's burning. And this place doesn't have much daylight to spare, so let's not waste it."
Zariel's eyes narrowed but she said, "Very well, but we will report in when we return."
"Fine," Pariah said. That gave her two days to figure out how to avoid that meeting.
"Then let's go," Bjarnson said, turning to walk towards the East Gate.
A bundled up guard came out of one of the gate towers as they approached. She pulled back her hood to reveal the face of a human woman with flat features and dark hair. "Where you headed?" she asked.
Bjarnson was in front. He pulled back his own hood and said, "I'm taking them about a day's travel north. Battlehammer lost a shipment; they've been hired to recover it."
"Bjarnson," she grinned. "Good to see you."
He grunted in return.
She looked over the group and said, "Show your faces."
They all pulled back their hoods and scarves and she scanned them. Her eyebrows raised slightly when she saw Pariah and Zariel, and then higher when she saw Lulu peeking out. "You're the ones who showed up naked, aren't you?"
"We weren't naked," Pariah said with a roll of her eyes. "We just weren't dressed for the weather."
The soldier shook her head and said to Bjarnson, "Watch these outsiders. They're all crazy."
He didn't respond. The guard called up, "Open the gate."
This entry was a little smaller than the one they had come through. The wood groaned as the gates opened outward to reveal a well swept road leading off into the darkness. "Good luck," the guard said as she pulled her hood back up and headed back to her warm guardhouse.
They headed just past the gate. Pariah hadn't realized how much the city walls had protected them from the wind until she was out in the thick of it. It forced cold air into her cloak, and blew snow around, limiting visibility. Tripods of logs marked a road leading east, and snow on the road itself was a good foot or so below the surroundings making it easy to see. Off in the distance she could see a couple of lights bobbing, though she couldn't tell if they were approaching or going away.
Bjarnson stopped them as the gates creaked closed. "Put on your snowshoes," he said as he reached for his.
Eberic obviously had some experience with snowshoes, but the other three needed Bjarnson to tell them how to put them on and how to walk in them. The shuffling gait was odd, but it wasn't long before they were crunching along in the snow, heading north along the curving city wall. After their struggle to walk on the way in, Pariah was pleasantly surprised how the wide leather and wood lattice kept them from sinking very far into the snow.
Bjarnson took out his lantern, but before he could light it Zariel said, "Save your oil. I can call up light on your lantern."
The man glanced down at the lamp and then held it out to her. She touched her ring to it and said something in Enochian. The lamp glowed and Bjarnson gave an approving grunt before hanging it from his belt.
She said, "We should have a second light source to be safe. Lulu, could you take care of that?"
Lulu poked her upper body out but Dejen said, "Thank you, but my lantern needs to burn. Although I am happy to help you recover the dwarves' iron, I am also on this journey to search for chwingas. The flame of this lantern will turn green when any elemental creature is close."
As the man fumbled for his tinderbox, Bjarnson reached out and said, "Fire, come to me." A flame burned from the tip of his finger. Dejen hesitated in surprise, but then lifted the globe so the other man could put his finger in and light the wick.
"Delightful," Dejen said, studying the yellow flame.
With no further word, Bjarnson turned and led them into the wilderness. The land was an undulating blanket of white. A little light had leaked out from the city but, as they headed north, the darkness encroached quickly. The only natural illumination was starlight, and that was partially hidden by clouds that were being blown by the wind that also drove snow across their path, reducing visibility further. The two lanterns created a circle of illumination around them but left the darkness beyond impenetrable. Then again, the blowing snow wouldn't have let them see much farther than that anyhow.
Pariah didn't see a tree or a bush, just a featureless covering of snow occasionally broken up by a large rock. The land wasn't completely flat, though. It was hard to see in the darkness and blowing snow, but she could make out shapes of low hills around them.
The group walked in silence. Breathing the icy air was hard on their lungs and sinuses, and talking made that worse. Pariah held her fur cloak tightly around her, concentrating on walking in snowshoes without stumbling. Talking seemed like too much work right now, and as the wind increased it would have been difficult to hear conversation anyhow. She was reasonably warm inside her cloak, but the freezing air got in through any imperfection, especially her open hood. She was wearing her scarf and goggles in an effort to leave no skin exposed. She couldn't imagine how much colder the others probably felt.
Hours passed, though she had no idea how many. She missed her ability to create an illusionary clock in her hand. As she trudged along, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, it was easy to get lost in the darkness and barren terrain and her own thoughts. She had to keep turning to be sure the others were there, that she hadn't suddenly wandered into nothingness.
The wind velocity increased, and she drew her cloak more closely around her. She suddenly found herself wondering if Bjarnson was leading them where he said he was going to. He was a stranger. He seemed nice enough, but the worst people often cultivated friendly personalities. Maybe that was his real motivation: find a bunch of outsiders and then lead them into the nothingness in order to rob and murder them.
And what about Eberic? He was definitely hiding something and, while Pariah could sympathize with his obvious attempts to avoid the sheriff, she found herself wondering why. Was he a fugitive? She had heard the tavern patrons talking about a string of murders. Was he stalking Ten-Towns looking for prey? What about that bruise? Had he gotten that while taking his latest victim?
Dejen seemed harmless, but she didn't know anything about him either. That could be another carefully constructed personality. He said he was here to study the Rime, but why? She hadn't asked him where he was from. His accent and scarf marked him as Turmish, which meant he was very far from home. Why would he travel so far to study a phenomenon that didn't affect him?
Of course, she couldn't forget about the former archdevil in their midst. Pariah believed in second chances, believed in giving people the opportunity to be better, but she was pragmatic enough to know most people don't change. Zariel the devil had been a brutal, sadistic fiend. Zariel the angel hadn't been much better. She had told her story of atonement and redemption, but was that the truth? Or was she just seeking power again? Seeking an army again?
And Lulu...
Well, she had to admit she had a hard time mistrusting Lulu. The hollyphant or asteri or whatever she was now had been a genuine friend during their time in Avernus. Lulu trusted Zariel and that counted for something, but Lulu was also heavily biased in favor of her friend. Right up to the final battle in Elturel, Pariah had never been completely sure Lulu wouldn't turn on them to support Zariel. If Zariel was not firmly on the path of redemption, where would Lulu's loyalties lie?
Pariah was broken out of her reverie as the wind suddenly increased in intensity, surrounding her in a scream and a whirling storm of snow. The icy air pierced every gap in her clothing, freezing her skin to the point it hurt. She stopped and looked around but she was isolated inside a wall of blowing snow, with no lamplight visible in the darkness. She had no idea where the others were as the blizzard tore through her, nearly knocking her off her feet.
Notes:
Sunlady is the canon term for a female priest of Amaunator, but it sounds odd to my ear. Sunlord for the men is fine, but sunlady is weird so I decided to use sunlord for both. (I have a similar problem with timelord vs. timelady in Dr. Who.)
Eberic Level 1. He is the last PC. He's also the only completely vanilla character.
This is where I started experimenting with travel rules about weather, encounters, etc. I haven't added them to my homebrew rules because they are still being tweaked.
Now, more rambling about Midjourney. I continue to waste time trying to get a better Pariah and just can't get it, but I have decided on a different final version of Pariah.
However, this week I'm actually talking about Lulu.
I was never able to get the same realistic style I got with the others, for example my first attempt and second attempt. I think that was in part due to the word "angel". I ran a few using "girl with wings", which came out a little better but not quite the same style.
I couldn't ever get gold-feathered wings. And, maybe it was the robe, but I also got a lot of cleavage and protruding nipples. That, like all the fashion models I got when trying to do Zariel, is a comment on the kinds of art people make about women. Male warriors wear heavy armor; female warriors wear chainmail bikinis. Super annoying when trying to create realistic images of women.
In addition, as I tried variations, her wings kind of detached from her body and would float into weird places in the image. Here are some of the more interesting images I generated.
This abomination looks great in terms of pose and lighting and all that, until you look at her eyes and her hands. I know that AI art is notorious for weird hands, but what the actual fuck???
This girl misunderstood the word "robe" and showed up in a bathrobe. Plus what's with that little mini wing in the back?
However, I got some good ones. My third place choice looked good overall, and even the hands look OK. The wing placement is a bit odd, and her "rosy cheeks" are more like sunburn.
The second place choice has good posing, good wing placement. I don't really like those things in her hair, but I could live with them. She was a REALLY close second but...
My first place choice has the perfect face. Good pose, good wing placement, I don't really like that halo-like thing but it's fine. Pretend her feathers are golden, because Midjourney wouldn't do that. If I was more of an artist, I'd touch up details like that, but this is good enough.
Chapter 9: Storm
Summary:
During their trip to recover the dwarves' iron shipment, a blizzard has blown in and Pariah finds herself alone, lost in the storm.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
Pariah looked around for the others but could see nothing through the darkness and swirling snow. She couldn't even see her tracks, and realized that she didn't know which way they had been walking. She couldn't see beyond the length of her arm, so she had no idea where any landmarks were.
As her panic rose she yelled out for the others, but the roaring wind swallowed up her voice. She didn't know what to do. Should she try to find them? Should she stand still? Should she find cover?
Something grabbed her shoulder and latched onto the furs there. She felt herself pulled towards a looming, dark shape that had a glow on his belt. Before she could react, the shape grabbed her arm and slapped her hand down on his shoulder. She could see another figure holding onto his other shoulder, and someone else holding onto that one.
The big shape started moving and Pariah followed instinctively. Another large figure appeared before them, and the one she was holding onto grabbed that one and dragged it along. The five of them pushed into the wind as the snow blew around them and the cold seeped in. Pariah walked with one hand on the guide and the other holding her hood, trying to keep it from blowing off.
The ground rose up abruptly and the large figure led them into a hollow where the rising land created a little windbreak. The figure backed up against the hill and squatted down, motioning them to do the same. The others joined him, leaning forward to put their heads together as he raised his lamp.
The large man opened his hood enough for her to see Bjarnson's face. He pulled the scarf down from his mouth and yet she could still barely hear him as he yelled, "We'll have to hunker down and wait for the storm to be over. We'll rest for a moment and then start building a shelter."
Pariah shouted, "How long do you think the storm will last?"
"Probably several hours."
Dejen pulled down his own scarf. "If it's that long, wouldn't it be better to go back to town?"
Bjarnson shook his head. "Too easy to get lost. We'd end up walking in circles. The best thing is just to wait it out."
They took a few minutes to catch their breath. Pariah was glad for the break because it let her get her anxiety under control. The power of the storm was truly terrifying, and the thought of actually being lost in this maelstrom threatened to reignite her panic. Between the darkness and the blowing snow, she could wander ten feet away from the group and have no idea they were nearby.
"All right," Bjarnson said. "We're going to dig out a trench." He arranged them in a line facing the hill. He was in the middle, Pariah and Dejen on his left, Eberic and Zariel on his right. They dug with their gloved hand, stacking the snow behind them. "Work slow," he yelled, setting a leisurely pace for the group. "Sweat and exhaustion are both killers here. Take your time. Rest if you need it."
The snow quickly became denser as they dug down, and more of an effort to dig out. "I've never seen snow like this," Pariah yelled through the wind. Baldur's Gate got cold enough that ice formed in the harbor, and winter left a layer of slushy, gray snow on the dirty streets of the city. This snow was heavier than anything she'd ever encountered.
"The snow compacts over time," Bjarnson explained. "That's good for us because it'll be dense enough to dig out a shelter. Slow down, there, Zariel. It's not a race."
Eventually they all settled into the relaxed pace he wanted to see. The work was slow, but it kept her muscles warm without making her sweat. She fell into the rhythm of it as the wind roared around them, and they quickly made progress.
"If you get tired, take a rest," Bjarnson said. "If you get thirsty, drink from your waterskin, not the snow. We'll melt snow for water later."
They all did take short breaks. The water in Pariah's skin was cold, cold enough that it had slivers of ice, but it still wasn't as cold as the outer air. The shelter seemed like a lot of work for one storm, but she figured she'd trust the local rather than her own opinion. Even though she was unsure she could trust him, she couldn't think of a reason he would be lying about the need for cover. The storm that continued to rage around them kept them all focused on their task.
They ended up with a trench deep enough to sit in and barely wide enough for all of them to fit. Bjarnson was in the middle, Pariah was squeezed between him and Zariel, and Dejen was crowded between him and Eberic. It wasn't the most comfortable shelter, but it was a blessed relief from the wind. They laid their bedrolls over the top, anchored by more snow, leaving gaps between the rolls so the space was ventilated.
Even though it was glowing with Zariel's magic, Bjarnson lit his lantern with the flame he called from the tip of his finger. Dejen's lamp was still burning. "This is for warmth as well as light," he said. "It'll still be cold, but not as bad as outside. Now we wait." He crossed his arms, leaned back and closed his eyes, apparently intending to nap.
The group exchanged glances in the lantern light. The wind was not as loud as it would be outside, and they were squashed close enough together that conversation was possible.
Pariah had expected them to dig down to the dirt, but there was still snow below them. "How deep does the snow get here?"
"It depends on the wind patterns," Bjarnson said without opening his eyes. "Here on the leeward side of a ridge, probably six feet. Further out, it could be twice that."
Dejen whistled in wonder. "I'm surprised it hasn't buried the towns."
"Ten-Towners spend a lot of time clearing the snow. Walled towns like Bryn Shander do a little better, but some of the smaller towns are half-buried."
Zariel wondered, "How common are storm like this?"
"Heavy winds are pretty common. Full-on blizzards hit about twice a tenday."
The group sat in a heavy silence. Pariah felt humbled by the power of the storm, and the idea that this was a common occurrence was shocking. Ten-Towners must be a tough breed.
Lulu said, "I wish Lythienne was here. She could tell stories or play music."
"Who's that?" Dejen asked, leaning forward to look at her over Bjarnson's chest.
"A friend of ours," she gestured to include Pariah. "She was fun and happy. Well, until she wasn't."
"She was still fun after that," Pariah said. "And I agree, I wish she were here, too."
"How did you two meet?" he asked, nodding towards Lulu. "A tiefling and an angel don't seem an obvious pair."
Pariah was annoyed by his comment that hinted at her fiendish nature, but let it go. "That's a complicated story," she said diplomatically. Again, nobody would believe the truth. Plus, considering Zariel's role, it might not be the best tale at the moment.
Lulu said, "I used to live with Traxigor. You know, the wizard who teleported you here. When he found me I had lost my memory. Well, really Sylvira found me. She's a sage at Candlekeep. But she had a yucky demon living with her, so I went to live with Traxigor. And then Pariah and her friends needed my help, so I went with them for a while. And then I found Zariel again, who was my friend before but who had been gone for a while, and so I went with her."
Dejen looked mystified. Her story hadn't really told him much of anything.
Pariah laughed at his expression. "Like I said, it's a complicated story."
He waved vaguely around them and said, "It seems like we have the time."
Her smile grew tighter. "And a story I don't really feel like sharing," she said firmly.
"Ah, of course."
"What about you?" she asked, wanting to change the subject. "You said you came here to investigate the Everlasting Rime. That seems like a strange goal for someone from Turmish."
"Ah, well, I'm not from Turmish. My parents were, but I was actually born in Riatavin in Tethys." He smiled. "However, my parents were quite old fashioned, hence my dress." He waved at himself, and then seemed to realize his clothes were covered by his fur coat. "I guess you can't see it now, but I tend to dress in Turmian fashion. And my beard is cut in the traditional way. And, since we spoke only Turmic at home, I've been told I have an accent. So it is an understandable error."
He leaned back against the dense snow wall behind him. "As for your question, I'm a calligrapher and a student of the arcane."
She knew that "arcane" was a fancy word for "magic", but the other word wasn't familiar. "What's a calligrapher?"
"I write things. In particular, I write documents that require careful, precise script. I've been able to use my calligraphy to manipulate The Weave in unusual ways. For example, I've been able to imbue my armor with magic runes to make the metal more sturdy."
"So you're a spellcaster," she said. "Always useful if we end up having to fight."
"Not exactly," he said slowly. "I can write magical sigils, but I haven't yet been able to figure a system that lets me write fast enough to use in combat. I'm close, but not quite there yet. However, I can handle a crossbow and both my armor and crossbow are enchanted, so I can pull my weight."
"Good to know," Pariah said, realizing she'd never checked that they all could fight. "Zariel and I are good old sword and board fighters. What about you, Bjarnson?"
Keeping his eyes closed, he said, "I am in tune with the magic of nature, able to call on its fury in a fight. And if I crack you across the skull with my staff, you probably aren't getting back up."
Pariah grinned. Shoved up against him, she could feel the bulk of his muscle even between their two layers of furs. "I knew a nature priest once. He didn't worship a god, but nature itself. He could call up food during a siege. You mean like that?"
"Something like that," he agreed, "though I can't call up food at the moment. Icewind Dale isn't as barren as some people think and I'm able to hunt and gather enough food. I prefer to focus my magic on combat and healing."
"Makes sense," she nodded. "Rations are cheap."
He opened one eye at her. "If we are ever in a siege, though, I could retune the natural energies if necessary."
"Really?" she said, her interest piquing. "You can change your magic like that?" She'd been a little jealous that Rowan had been able to pray for different blessings if she had a few hours. Then again, Pariah had never tried asking Levistus for a change.
Bjarnson said nothing, just grunted with a nod as he closed his eye again.
Pariah turned to Zariel and added, "Oh, and I guess Zariel can heal, too." The woman had healed that nasty spider bite at Candlekeep.
"I am blessed with a sliver of Lathander's power," Zariel confirmed.
Lulu said excitedly, "I can heal, too." She added in a more somber tone, "but not as much as I used to."
Pariah didn't want to mention her own feeble magic, especially since she wasn't sure of the meaning of its return. She leaned out to look at Eberic, who was also sitting with his eyes closed. "What about you, Eberic?"
She saw him frown but, like Bjarnson, kept his eyes closed. "What about me?" he asked brusquely.
"Do you have any magic?"
"No."
Pariah grew annoyed at his surliness. "Can you fight?" He had specifically come along to give them "an extra sword". She had seen that he carried one, but that didn't mean he could use it.
"Yes," he grunted, apparently not interested in talking.
As time wore on, there were a few attempts at conversation that petered out fairly quickly. Everyone seemed guarded about their histories, which made Pariah suspicious at first, until she remembered that she and Zariel were guarded as well.
Eberic barely spoke at all and they learned nothing about him.
Bjarnson talked a little. He didn't spend much time in the towns, preferring to live out in the wilderness. Dejen asked if he was one of the Reghed -- Pariah didn't know what that was -- and Bjarnson gave him a firm, "No," and changed the subject rather abruptly. He wasn't unfriendly like Eberic, but was still pretty closed off. The only time he seemed to warm up was when talking about the goliaths. They were huge humanoids who lived in the high mountains, and Bjarnson apparently spent a lot of his time in their villages.
Dejen was the chattiest of the group. He talked about his efforts to manipulate magic with his writing, but he used terms Pariah was unfamiliar with and she got lost quickly. He showed her a wooden quill and said he had been able to awaken a sort of rudimentary intelligence in it. He nodded excitedly when she had compared it to the homunculus she had seen in Avernus, though corrected her that it wasn't quite the same thing. His device stored information, like carrying a library in your hand. She was fascinated by the idea of owning something like that, but it was attuned only to his mind. He didn't know how to create such a thing for someone else.
Dejen had tried to engage Zariel in conversation, but she was also reluctant to talk. However, she was skilled at turning the conversation to focus back on him, artfully dodging his questions about her birthplace, parents and so on. Pariah doubted he even realized she hadn't told him anything.
Lulu tended to stammer when faced with questions. Dejen probably thought she was shy, but Pariah suspected she simply wasn't good at lying. Zariel always intervened, again turning the conversation back on him.
Pariah was willing to talk about her time both before and after Avernus, and it wasn't that hard to leave out those few months of her life. Dejen hesitantly asked her again about her scars, and she told him very seriously to avoid buying lotions from shady merchants in dark alleys. As before, he smiled uncertainly, unsure if she was joking or not.
Mostly, though, the group sat listening to the storm rage. The shelter actually got quite comfortable, still cold but warm enough that they could loosen their fur cloaks and coats to let some air flow.
The wind finally died down to a stiff breeze, but the snow was still falling heavily. Bjarnson poked his head out to study the landscape with a critical eye."Good enough. Let's get moving."
He helped boost the others out, but his bulk made it hard for him to exit the trench. They tried to pull him up, but the snow beneath their feet compressed, preventing them from getting any leverage. He waved them off and began to dig steps into the side so he could climb out.
Meanwhile, they gathered and stored their bedrolls. The air was still bitterly cold, and the wind swirled the snow around them, but there was a glow in the sky to the west that dimly illuminated the area with red light. Pariah nodded in that direction. "Did we miss the daylight?"
Bjarnson grunted as he continued to dig. "Such as it is. The east sky lights up a bit, the light circles around to the south until it reaches the west, and then it goes down. Dawn to dusk with no day in between."
Zariel looked wistfully towards the light. "I wish I had seen the dawn. Perhaps tomorrow." She knelt, facing the direction of the glow, and bowed her head in a short prayer. By the time she finished, Bjarnson was clambering awkwardly out of the trench.
Dejen shook his lit lantern carefully, listening to the oil slosh. "We lost about three hours plus the time to build the shelter. Is that long for a storm?"
Rather than answering him right away, Bjarnson said to Zariel, "Can you use your light magic on my lantern again?" She did so, and he blew out the flame to let the divine glow illuminate the area. Turning to Dejen, he said, "That's about normal. Even the long ones don't last more than half a day."
"Isn't there a bad one around one of the towns right now?" Pariah asked. "I heard them talking about that in the tavern."
He said, "Yes. Not only has it lasted a long time, it sounds like its centered on Targos." He shook his head. "Auril's angry. Maybe they missed their sacrifice, though I find that hard to believe in that place. They drag people out and tie them down in the wilderness whether they cooperate or not."
Eberic barked, "Maybe people need to stop kissing Auril's ass. Maybe it's time the towns stopped sacrificing innocent people to her." It was a surprising outburst from someone who was normally silent.
Bjarnson said nothing, and neither did anyone else. Pariah agreed with the dwarf to a point, but wasn't sure what to say about it. If the storm really was an example of Auril's wrath, how many people might die in Targos because of it? Was it worth those lives just to save one.
Then she shook her head, disappointed in herself for even having such a thought. She had spent too much time in Avernus.
Bjarnson said, "Before we get started, how's everyone feeling? Still feel your fingers and toes? This is no time to be brave. Now that the wind's died down, we can find a spot for a fire if people need to get warm."
There hadn't been room for a fire in their cramped shelter, not to mention it would have just melted the snow beneath them. It also hadn't been a particularly restful rest. Pariah felt all right, but she scanned the others.
Zariel said, "To be honest, the journey so far has proven to be quite exhausting. I think it is a combination of the cold and the effort of walking in these snowshoes. However, I am fine to go on at the moment."
"You sure?" he asked, looking at her shrewdly. They still all had their hoods down, so he studied her face carefully in the dusky light. "Don't be a hero. Being stubborn gets people killed."
"I'm fine," she assured him again. "I will let you know if I need to rest."
He nodded and looked over the others. "Anyone else?" Nobody spoke up, so they put their hoods up and resumed their journey.
Although the red sunlight reminded Pariah unpleasantly of Avernus, it was still a relief after the darkness that had covered Icewind Dale since she had arrived the evening before. Unfortunately, the respite was short. The glow faded and within an hour, night had returned. A sickly thin crescent moon near its zenith in the starlit sky provided no significant light, and the blowing snow tended to block what little illumination there was anyhow.
They settled into a steady march across the snow. Pariah tried to keep her eye on their surroundings for several reasons. First, it kept her from getting bored and sinking into dark thoughts. Second, of course, to watch out for ambushes. She had no idea what kind of creatures hunted lands like these. The wind was fierce, but it occasionally died down as though taking a breath for its next scream. During these times, when the snow wasn't blowing around so badly, she got a better look at the terrain around her and it was breathtaking.
There was a stark beauty to the sheet of white that surrounded them, rolling like ocean waves frozen in time. Occasional shrubs and even a small stand of trees stood bravely against the stark elements, bringing a spark of life to this dead landscape.
"Stop!" Dejen hissed loudly.
Pariah froze, her hand going to her sword as she scanned for enemies. It took her a moment to realize something was wrong: the group was bathed in green light.
Dejen was holding his lantern in front of him, staring in wonder at the green flame. "Something is near," he whispered.
"Where?" Zariel asked.
He spun slowly in place, staring at nothing but the flame as he turned a full circle. "I don't know. This doesn't show direction. It just means an elemental is near."
"What kind of elementals are in the area?" Zariel asked Bjarnson.
He had lowered his hood to get a better view of his surroundings, and he scratched his thick beard thoughtfully. "There are some minor elementals like chwingas and mephits, though neither is common. More dangerous air and water elementals in the deep wilderness, earth in the mountains."
And then the green light disappeared as the lantern's flame turned orange again. "No!" Dejen shrieked.
He darted around, this way and that, staring at the flame and muttering, "No, no, no." He shook the lantern in frustration. "They can't be gone."
Bjarnson stood with folded arms watching his antics. "Chwingas are like that. They are there, and then they're not. Some folks think they turn invisible. Some folks think they can go back and forth to the elemental plane. Me, I think they're just real good at hiding."
"But the spell could detect them even if they were hidden," Dejen insisted.
Eberic gave a derisive chuckle. "Maybe it's broken. What'd you pay for that trinket? And I hope you didn't get it from Torg's."
Dejen stopped his searching to look disdainfully at the dwarf. "I got it from a local sage who is studying the climate and the local magical life. And it was free."
"Worth what you paid for it," Eberic snorted.
"All right, that's enough," Pariah said to Eberic as she stepped forward. To the other man she said, "Look, maybe if you go in a circle the lamp will light up again."
He made a widening spiral around them, but the lamp's flame remained the same color.
"Fine," Bjarnson said a little impatiently. "We're only a couple of hours from our destination, but my nose and toes are both getting a little numb. There's a good spot for a fire there." He pointed to a flat rock that jutted up out of the snow. From the soot stains, it looked like someone had previously had the same idea. "Let's take a break and get some hot tea into us before heading out again. Maybe the chwingas will show up in that time."
"Oh, thank you," Dejen said. He continued to circle them as the others made their way to the rock to sit on their packs and relax for a bit.
Notes:
I was trying to figure out weather patterns when I came across an interesting fact. Assuming Forgotten Realms weather works remotely like our weather, and of course it's possible it doesn't, it would snow very little in Icewind Dale. Places like the interior of Antarctica or Alaska are technically deserts. The bitter cold makes the air too dry to hold much moisture, so they get little precipitation. As the few inches of snow they get does fall, it compresses the lower layers, making it denser the further you dig down, until you hit sheets of ice.
This is important when thinking about building a shelter. The consistency of the snow is important. This snow has been here for over two years, left over from when Icewind Dale's temperatures weren't so low. It's become denser over time, and may even be turning to ice if you dig far enough. I looked up snow caves, quinzhees, and other snow shelters and settled on that simple trench.
Icewind Dale's weather is mostly wind, which can blow the snow to reduce visibility. There are occasional snowfalls and ice storms, but typically it's just wind and blowing snow.
I also tried to figure out whether Pariah had ever seen snow in Baldur's Gate, since a lot of coastal cities don't get cold. From the wiki, "Baldurians celebrated The Breaking every spring, marking the day when the last hunks of ice broke away from the Gray Harbor, freeing it for safe trade." That means it's cold enough for snow in the city.
As I've mentioned before, Dejen is using the Alternate Artificer by laserllama, which means he doesn't get spells until level 2. He's also using laserllama's Archivist specialization, who gets their magic from calligraphy and special Artificial Minds.
This week, our Midjourney talk is about Bjarnson.
From the beginning, I struggled with the usual face cancer. And what's with the damn horse in the background? I later figured out that came from "pony tail" instead of "ponytail". Midjourney is like that. All the words are mixed together, and it's hard to get it to understand that THIS word applies to THIS detail.
Early efforts were also a little too much like paintings rather than photographs. I prefer the more photorealistic images. However this one with freckles isn't bad, and the burning staff looks cool. But then we have more face cancer.
Eventually I struck gold with my fifth try. In this case, I actually asked for "windburned skin" so this time the face cancer worked. His eyes are a little bright, so I exported it to edit it and got Bjarnson's final image. His portrait is the only one that I love, rather than "meh, it's OK I guess".
Chapter 10: Cold Iron
Summary:
After a long day trekking through the stormy darkness, the party is nearing the location of the lost shipment of iron.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
The cold air burned in Pariah's lungs as they made their way up the slope. The incline wasn't steep, but it added to the challenge of walking through the snow. The land had become less flat as they moved north, and going up and down low ridges had become the norm now.
The chwingas hadn't made an appearance during their tea break, though the hot drink had been a blessed change from the relentless freeze around them. Bjarnson had made a point of saving the last cup of tea for a demonstration. He poured the dregs from the teapot into his wooden cup, and then flung the liquid into the air. It burst into a cloud of ice crystals which disappeared before they hit the ground.
"Was that magic?" Pariah had asked.
"No, that was a warning," he said. "That shows you how dry the air is. The cold itself isn't the only danger." His blue eyes twinkled as he said, "Besides, it's a fun trick."
Now, a couple of hours later, she was aware of how the dry air was parching her throat and lungs, making her cough. She took a drink of cold water from her skin, but only a little. Too much cold water, he had warned, would chill their insides and cause hypothermia. She was developing an appreciation for how cruel this wilderness was.
Bjarnson was in the lead. As he crested the ridge, he stopped and crouched down abruptly, signaling the others to do the same. Pariah advanced slowly until she could see over the ridge into the gully below. The wind was in one of its lulls, so no blowing snow obscured the sight.
Past the edge of their lights, the expanse of white snow was broken by a dark object about two or three feet across. It wasn't the right shape to be a tree or bush, though it might be a low, twisted rock formation. Whatever it was, it had Bjarnson on high alert, scanning the surrounding land.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"I think that's our dead dwarf," he said.
Pariah looked again at the shape, but couldn't reconcile it with the shape of a body. Either way, that didn't explain why he was suddenly so on edge. "Are you afraid he's undead?"
"No," Bjarnson said, unshouldering his pack and putting it on the ground. "Undead would have risen by now. However, what I don't see is a sled full of iron. A yeti wouldn't have taken that." He held his staff in one hand and touched the tip to his forehead. "Protect me from harm," he mumbled.
"Someone's been here," Pariah concluded. "And you think they might be nearby."
"It's possible. Get ready."
They all dropped their packs. Pariah had managed to secure both her shield and her longbow to her backpack for easy access. She strapped on her shield but held her bow in the other hand. She could still get to her sword easily, but she saw no nearby cover so, if there were attackers, they'd attack from range.
Zariel also readied her shield, but she held a javelin rather than her sword, presumably for the same reason of expecting ranged enemies. Dejen bore a small crossbow, smaller than any Pariah had seen before, that looked like it was designed to be fire one-handed. Eberic held a shortbow with an arrow nocked.
"Stay a little ways behind me," Bjarnson said. "I don't want you to destroy any tracks or other sign."
Pariah followed him about ten feet back, with Zariel to her right and Dejen to her left, and Eberic bringing up the rear. They advanced slowly, peering into the darkness for enemies. The lanterns made it harder to see at a distance, while lighting them up as easy targets, but she wasn't about to suggest they douse them.
He stopped a few feet from the body and squatted down to look at the ground. The snow in the area had been disturbed. Pariah couldn't make sense of the jumble of tracks, but she easily recognized that the parallel grooves leading off to the right were made the runners of the sled.
Even up close, it was hard to recognize the body as a body. It was just a torso, its belly ripped open and its insides mostly eaten out. She spotted two severed limbs half-buried in the snow, probably an arm and a leg considering the size. She couldn't see the other limbs or the head.
"Small humanoids," Bjarnson said, studying the snow. "At least four. Maybe more. Considering the direction of the sled track, I'd guess a party of goblins taking the iron back to Karkolohk. Since the wind hasn't covered these up, they were here within the last hour. We can probably catch them if we hurry."
"What did this?" Dejen asked weakly. He was staring at the body.
Bjarnson stood and walked over to examine the remains of the dwarf. "This is pretty typical yeti damage. Probably carried off the head and other limbs for a snack later. Crag cats or scavengers might have gotten to the body as well."
Zariel walked forward to stand somberly over the corpse. "We should take the body with us."
Bjarnson looked towards where the sled had gone. "I agree, but not now. It'll be clumsy to carry."
Not to mention disgusting, Pariah thought to herself. She agreed they should take the body, and not just for the extra reward, but she didn't relish carrying a frozen corpse for longer than they had to.
He continued, "Whoever stole the sled isn't going to give it up without a fight. Let's recover the iron and then come back here to wrap up the body and take it with us."
Zariel nodded. "Agreed." She bowed her head to mumble a prayer over the corpse, and then said, "We should hurry."
Eberic said, "We should douse the lamps so they don't see us coming."
Bjarnson looked up at the dark sky and then off towards the direction the sled had gone. "If I had your night vision, I'd agree, but it's going to be hard for the rest of us to travel with no light."
Pariah gestured to include herself and Eberic. "We could go ahead in the darkness. You follow with one lamp with the flame low."
The dwarf shook his head. "I'll scout alone. I don't want you bumbling along and alerting anyone we come across."
Pariah pursed her lips. "I'm pretty sneaky. I'll be fine. I think it would be better for nobody to be alone."
Eberic grunted but didn't object further.
They recovered their packs, stowed their weapons, and headed out. Pariah and Eberic led the way, spaced wide apart so they wouldn't be silhouetted against the dim light from Dejen's lantern. He had insisted that his be the lit lantern in case they came across chwingas. The rest of the group came about fifty or so feet behind.
The white snow reflected the little bit of light from the stars and the moon, so they could see the shape of the ground far into the distance. The sled trail was easy to follow, cutting through the trail of small footprints. The footprints were mostly steady, but there were occasional spots where their prints were jumbled and chaotic. She had no idea what that meant.
Unfortunately, the wind kicked up again shortly after they were on the trail and visibility started to drop. She looked behind and could barely see the others. She was about to signal that they come closer, but she saw Bjarnson beckon the others and they increased their pace until they had halved the distance. The group continued on, but Pariah made a point of occasionally checking that she could still see Eberic and the others.
The dwarf suddenly gestured to her as he dropped to one knee. She did the same and looked ahead. Through the blowing snow she could see a glow and several dark shapes, one large blocky one and several smaller ones: a half dozen small humanoids dragging a sled. As she watched, they stopped and one small shape turned to the others. She couldn't hear what he was saying through the wind, but he was definitely yelling at the rest of his group.
The others caught up and knelt on the snow near them. Eberic said irritably, "Douse the light!" Dejen lowered but didn't completely extinguish the flame in his lantern.
Eberic said, "Bows will be useless in this wind. They don't seem to be paying attention, so I say we come up behind the sled and ambush them."
"Ambush them?" Zariel asked. "I think we should talk to them. Goblins are cowardly creatures. A show of force should be sufficient to take possession of the stolen goods without any bloodshed."
The dwarf snorted derisively. "That just gives them a chance to attack us first. They're cowards, yes, that's why we need to kill only a couple before the rest run."
"He has a point," Bjarnson said. "The goblins in this region are crafty and dangerous. A show of force might get us the iron, but they'll follow and attack us in our sleep. Better to make a clear statement up front."
Dejen mused, "I don't know. Theft is not usually a capital crime."
Pariah was on the fence about the idea, but she said, "Yeah, but we're not the law. Ethical discussions are great, but these are vicious creatures with weapons, not philosophical ideas."
Lulu said, "I agree with Zariel."
Of course you do, Pariah thought to herself. Not that Zariel was necessarily wrong, but Lulu was certainly going to back her idea.
Eberic said, "We don't have time for this!" The goblins had already disappeared into the blowing snow, though they were moving slowly so would be easy to catch.
"How about this," Pariah suggested. "We fight, but we fight to wound rather than kill. Shed some blood and I agree that they'll run."
Bjarnson said, "We can pull our blows, but people still die in combat."
"And that may happen, but we do our best to chase them off without endangering ourselves."
He shrugged. "Fine with me."
Zariel said reluctantly, "Very well."
"Can we go now?" Eberic snapped as he stood.
The group armed themselves. Eberic was right about the bows, so Pariah drew her saber and shield. She noticed that Dejen was still using his crossbow. Maybe he had experience fighting in high winds, or maybe he just didn't have a better weapon. They lined up abreast and trotted into the darkness. Soon the glow of the goblin lanterns appeared ahead. Pariah and Zariel went to the right while Eberic split off to the left and the other two hung back. Lulu stayed safe in Zariel's pocket, though she had her head out and was watching.
As they got close, Pariah could see there were two columns of three goblins, each group hauling on one of the two ropes attached to the sled. They were typical of their race, standing about half the height of a human, their other features covered by crudely stitched together furs.
Pariah was still struggling a bit with moving in snowshoes, but Eberic had no such trouble. He charged forward and buried his shortsword in the back of the rearmost goblin on the left. The little creature fell forward as blood gushed from the wound.
As Pariah neared the right side, the goblins turned to face the attack. The one near her dodged her blade, but then Zariel came barreling in and bashed him with her shield, knocking him down. Meanwhile a crossbow bolt and a long shard of ice shot through the crowd of goblins without hitting anyone, the first carried away by the wind and the second knocked aside by a goblin scimitar.
Pariah pressed the attack, slashing at the next goblin's legs. He had his scimitar out and parried her blow, riposting to slash at her chest before she could bring her shield up. The dull blade didn't cut through the leather, but she felt the blow nonetheless. She pushed through the pain and kicked at the tiny figure, knocking him down. As he fell back, she pointed her blade at his throat and he froze.
The remaining three goblins shrieked and ran. Eberic chased the one near him, stabbing futilely at the goblin's retreating back, but relented and let the enemy run into the darkness with his companions, all three shouting words Pariah couldn't understand as they fled.
The goblin under Pariah's sword was staring at her in fear, his hands raised in surrender. He gibbered at her, but she didn't know the language. She noticed he was wearing crude hides with a few pieces of ratty leather armor. His hands were bare and one of his fingers was black with frostbite. He had a small shield of splintered wood, and the blade of his weapon was notched in several places. He also had a shortbow with a fraying string.
The goblin Zariel had knocked down was dazed, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He was wearing similarly ratty clothing, not dressed warmly enough for this weather. The third goblin lay face down in the red-stained snow, clearly dead. All three of the humanoids were noticeably gaunt.
Zariel glared at Eberic. "What happened to attacking to wound?" she demanded.
"I never promised to do that," he said as he cleaned the blood off his shortsword.
Zariel's anger rose. "That's what we agreed-" She broke off and took a deep breath. In a slightly calmer voice, she said, "You should have followed the plan."
He opened his mouth to respond but Bjarnson, who had moved up with Dejen to join the rest of them, said, "Quiet!" He pointed in the direction the goblins had run and then tapped his ear.
Pariah listened and could barely hear yelling voices. She was still keeping an eye on the two goblin prisoners so didn't look in that direction. "They didn't run far," she said.
"Might be gearing up for a counterattack," he said doubtfully.
The second goblin had regained his wits and both were still lying in the snow, watching their attackers nervously. Pariah said, "Do either of you speak Chondathan?"
The goblins looked at her blankly.
She grimaced and said to the group, "Do any of you speak Goblin?"
There was a general shaking of heads. Zariel said, "Lulu, perhaps you could use your telepathy. Let them know we mean them no harm. We are just reclaiming the stolen iron."
"All right," Lulu said distastefully. She looked down at the nearest goblin. He looked startled and jabbered something as he stared back at her.
She continued to watch him silently and then she said, "He's scared. He wants to know if we are going to kill them. We aren't, right?"
"We aren't," Zariel said firmly, glaring at Eberic, who ignored her.
Pariah could still hear goblins yelling in the distance. An animal roar cut through the sound of the wind, causing Pariah to involuntarily look towards its source. She quickly looked back, making sure the goblins hadn't moved. "Ask him what that was?" she said.
The goblin being interrogated looked increasingly afraid as he stared at Lulu. He kept chattering at her, apparently not understanding the concept of telepathy. Lulu said, "They are part of a hunting party. He says that must be one of the polar bears that pull their wagon. That means the boss must be there."
Bjarnson said, "How many goblins?"
After a pause, Lulu said, "The boss and two more, so six with the three who got away."
"What about the bears?" Pariah asked.
"They won't fight. They are draft animals."
Bjarnson said sharply, "They are not draft animals, and these filthy creatures have no business enslaving them."
Dejen was looking nervously towards the distant goblins voices. "I suspect they are building their courage to attack. I think we should take the sled and go before they change their mind. Let these gentlemen know we want no trouble, so they can tell their boss."
"We'd be too slow," Bjarnson said. "Dammit, Eberic is right. They'll follow us and ambush us in our sleep."
Lulu piped up, "These two say the chief will talk. He's used to dealing with the locals."
"We should talk to them," Zariel insisted.
Pariah could tell these goblins were terrified. Of course, fear makes people do stupid things, and they might get brave when they had some of their friends nearby. "We could take their weapons," she said. "March them back as hostages."
"We should kill these two and then go kill the rest," Eberic said.
"We talk!" Zariel insisted.
"I agree with talking," said Dejen.
Bjarnson was looking up into the sky with a furrowed brow. After a moment, he said, "I want to see what condition those polar bears are in."
"I'm fine with talking," Pariah said. She reached down to take the goblin's sword and bow.
Eberic mumbled something and did the same with the other goblin's weapons before grabbing him by the arm and hauling him to his feet. The goblin shrieked in terror, but Eberic just got a good grip and then put the point of his shortsword in the goblin's back.
Pariah sheathed her saber, drew her dagger and did the same with the other, though a little more gently. The goblin hesitated and then motioned towards the corpse with a questioning look.
"Lulu," Pariah said to the asteri, "tell them they can take the body if they want."
The two goblins gave nervous glances to the group before moving to their dead companion. One took his feet and the other his arms, and then they started walking in the direction the others had fled.
She and Eberic went first, the goblin hostages before them. Zariel took up a position on Eberic's flank, watching him intently. She had her longsword drawn and it was glowing with a dim, white light. Dejen took up the rear as he increased the flame on his lamp.
Pariah said, "Lulu, can you talk to the goblin boss with your mind from here? Tell them we're coming in?"
"No," she replied. "I have to see them or know them. I could talk to you without seeing you, but not someone I've never met."
"Tell them," she nodded to the prisoner, "to shout ahead that we're coming to talk. Also tell him that if he tries anything sneaky, he'll feel the point of my dagger through his kidney."
Lulu gave her a worried look before nodding. Pariah meant it. She didn't like being cruel, but she had no illusions about what these bandits would do if given a chance.
The goblin called something out. Pariah wished she knew what he was saying. A voice shouted back from the darkness. After a bit, Lulu translated, "The boss says to come ahead."
Within moments they could see a glow ahead coming from the top of a shape much larger than the sled. After a few more feet, they could see it was a huge wagon, standing three or four times Pariah's height. Two massive tusks curved out from the front of the wagon, and a pair of white bears the size of horses were harnessed between them. They seemed skinny, but Pariah had never seen one of these "polar" bears, as Lulu had called them, so maybe they always looked like that. Then again, they were both missing patches of fur from where the harnesses rubbed, so she doubted they were treated well.
A lamp burned at each corner of the wagon, and standing on top was a bigger goblin holding a torch and peering towards the group through the wind and snow. This one was dressed better than the others, in a decent set of fur clothing, and from the shape of the furs Pariah guessed this one was female. Her hood was down, and a hawk sat on her shoulder, watching the newcomers with sharp eyes.
"Hello, friend," the goblin leader called out, waving the torch as she saw them. "Surrender, friend." Her Chondathan was marked by a thick accent.
Pariah wasn't sure if she was demanding or offering surrender, but then the goblin said, "No fight, friend," while showing her other hand was empty, so Pariah guessed she was offering. She could see other goblins peeking out from both behind and inside the wagon, though she was uncertain of their number.
Zariel stepped forward and called up to the leader, "We want no more conflict. We merely wish to take the iron you...found to its rightful owners. We are willing to let these prisoners go as long as we have your word you won't follow or attack us."
Bjarnson said sternly, "And I want to give healing treatment to the bears."
The goblin boss gave the group a puzzled smile. "Friend," she said. "No fight."
Eberic mumbled, "Stupid goblins probably don't understand a word you're saying."
Zariel sighed. "Lulu, please ask the leader to come down and talk to us. We may need you to translate after all."
While Lulu sent that telepathic message to the goblin, Bjarnson didn't bother waiting for permission. He approached the polar bears. They eyed him warily, and one gave a warning growl. He stopped for a moment and then resumed approaching slowly and calmly. Pariah could feel the peaceful aura coming off of him. He reached into his pack and pulled out a hunk of cooked meat. He tore it in half and tossed a piece gently towards each of the bears.
They sniffed the meat and then ate it. Bjarnson continued to walk forward. The goblins behind the wagon were watching him and whispering to each other; Pariah guessed they were betting whether he would get eaten or not. She was worried about that herself, but she needed to keep her attention on the hostage in front of her.
Bjarnson reached out a hand and the bears sniffed it. Their body language was more relaxed now. He reached out to gently scratch their heads.
Meanwhile, the goblin leader had climbed down off the wagon and approached the group nervously. Pariah could see two arrows poking out of slits in the side of the wagon, trained on the group but not firing. Yet.
Zariel gave the goblin a warm smile. She made an exaggerated gesture to herself. "I'm Zariel." She made the same gesture to the goblin. "And you are?"
The goblin lowered her hood to reveal she had only one ear. The other was pierced with three copper earrings. Her skin was pulled tightly across her face as though there was no fat or muscle between the skin and the bone. She didn't smile as her yellow eyes evaluated the group before her. "Izobai," she said.
"Izobai," Zariel said back. "Pleased to meet you. Lulu, please tell this brave leader of the goblins that we merely wish to reclaim the iron and be on our way. We are sorry about the death of...what was his name?"
There was a pause while Lulu had the mental conversation. It was Izobai who answered. "Morg," she said.
"Morg," Zariel repeated. "We are sorry for the misunderstanding."
Eberic gave a derisive grunt. "We shouldn't be talking to these vermin. We should be-"
"I know what you think," Zariel said in a sharp voice, still smiling at Izobai. "We are talking."
He made a spitting noise but didn't continue.
Zariel continued. "As recompense for this misunderstanding, perhaps we could give you some food."
"What?" Eberic spat. "I'm not given them any of my food."
The goblin leader's eyes lit up as Lulu translated Zariel's message. "Food, yes, friend. Thank you, friend."
Zariel reached into her pack and withdrew some of her rations. Dejen did the same. Pariah hesitated, not because she didn't want to help, but because she was still holding a dagger on the hostage. She shifted the knife to her left hand and pulled out a couple day's rations to add to the pile. Eberic didn't contribute, not surprisingly, and Bjarnson was still with the bears, talking to them as he examined them.
Izobai quickly gathered up the food, bowing over and over. "Thank you, friend. You goblin friend. You come Karkolohk, tell them Izobai friend. They no kill you."
"Then we agree. Lulu, please tell them this so there is no misunderstanding. We will release our prisoners and take the sled. They will not follow us."
Pariah added, "If they come after us, we will kill them. Make sure they understand that. We won't be nice the second time." Again, she felt sympathy for their obviously bad situation, but desperate people do desperate things. It was important to set a boundary.
Eberic gave a firm nod and a glare to back her up.
Izobai nodded franticly as she backed away. With a nervous stutter, she said, "No kill. Friend. Friend. Good friend."
Zariel said, "Let the prisoners go."
Pariah gently pushed the goblin forward. He gave her a nervous look and then hurried to join the boss.
Eberic still held his prisoner by the shoulder with a defiant look on his face. Pariah was worried. Despite all the smiles, the situation was not at all friendly. Tension was thick, and all it would take was one stupid move for a fight to break out.
Zariel said, "Now!" in a commanding tone. The dwarf grumbled, but shoved the goblin away. The little humanoid stumbled and then ran towards the wagon.
"Bjarnson," Zariel called out. "Are you almost done there?"
"Almost," he said.
"Excellent. Then we shall-"
Zariel broke off as a goblin started yelling. Pariah looked over to see one of the goblins from behind the wagon was running towards Bjarnson, yelling at him and waving his hands. The big man was ignoring the shouting, his attention focused on one of the bears. With a cry of victory, he stepped away. The polar bear's harness slipped off, and the beast roared and charged towards the group.
Notes:
"But you can't use a shield and a bow at the same time," I hear you say. You're right. Mechanically, if she fires her bow she wouldn't be able to use the shield that round. Similarly, if she uses the shield to raise her AC, she can't use the bow that round. It's just a narrative way to describe the juggling of objects that is somewhat abstracted in normal play.
I'm using the house rule from the 5e-based computer game Solasta where characters can change what's in their hands one time during their turn as a free action. I know that RAW, donning or doffing a shield is an action, but this simplifies things. Plus she's not going to be switching very often, or possibly at all.
In my DIA fic, I mentioned that, after a certain point, I was treating Darkvision as Low Light Vision: it made dim light bright but didn't affect true darkness.
However, the real problem I have with illumination is the game treats the darkness of night the same as the darkness of an unlit cave, and they just aren't the same. This is a big deal here since the outdoors is night almost all the time, so having everyone completely blind seems unreasonable.
I'm back to using Darkvision RAW, though aasimar don't get it because why would they? However I've added a new light level: Darkest, which is a place with zero illumination like an unlit cave. Darkvision does nothing to help Darkest.
I ran this battle differently than in the book. The poor visibility would prevent the second group from joining the battle right away. I also used the advice from the Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion to have the goblins surrender more quickly when faced with 1st-level adventurers.
Now we'll talk about my attempts to depict Dejen in Midjourney.
I spent a lot of time trying to get his beard right. The Turmian square-cut beard is old-fashioned but iconic. However, I couldn't get it. There is only one crappy picture in the wiki and I could find no modern beard styles that gave me useful keywords or references. Sometimes the shadows on his images were so deep I couldn't even see the shape of the beard against dark skin. I started generating white people so I could see the beard better, and gave up on getting the beard perfect, so I got this decent reference image.
I used that to generate a darker skinned example as a new reference.
A little spoiler, but he's going to get a pair of goggles later from his artificer tinkering so I started messing with those. However, Midjourney thinks goggles are glasses.
I tried "steampunk goggles" and got a decent image. I don't love the steampunk jacket, but I spent a lot of time trying to get armor on him and trying "aviator goggles" instead of steampunk, but nothing looked good, so I decided to use that last one as the official image.
Chapter 11: Feeding the Hunger
Summary:
After a confrontation with the goblins who stole the dwarven iron, the group had negotiated a truce with the survivors. At least until Bjarnson releases the polar bears they had been using as draft animals.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
The roaring flames that consumed the goblin wagon lit the macabre scene brightly. Six bloody goblin bodies lay on the ground, two being enthusiastically consumed by the polar bears. The other goblins and the boss's hawk had fled into the darkness. Pariah had no idea if they'd be back, or if they were prepared to survive the brutal environment.
It had all happened so fast she was still trying to get her head around it. The bear had charged directly at the head goblin, nearly knocking the boss off her feet with a swipe of his paw. She had fled, throwing her torch into the wagon possibly as some kind of diversion. The flames had spread quickly, engulfing the dry wood in seconds, as the two goblins inside leapt out in a panic. The diversion hadn't worked. The bear had easily chased down the boss, snatching her off the ground in his jaws and violently tossing her body. He had taken down two others before settling down to dine on one of them, oblivious to the two arrows sticking out of his fur.
The other bear had attacked the goblins hiding behind the wagon, killing two before the others managed to escape. It was also eating with enthusiasm, and Pariah could hear the crunch of bone as it bit into a goblin's leg.
The group had watched the battle in a stunned silence. It had been over before they could even think of intervening, not that Pariah was sure what she would have done.
Bjarnson was still standing by the wagon harnesses, watching the bears eat with a satisfied smile on his face. Zariel whirled on him and stormed over. "What have you done?" she demanded loudly.
He looked at her in surprise. "The animals were being abused. I simply released them from their bondage."
"We were negotiating! And you turned the bears on them in an unprovoked attack."
His eyebrows climbed high on his forehead. "I did no such thing. I asked them not to attack us, but I never said they should attack the goblins. That was their choice."
Zariel took another threatening step towards him, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "But you knew they would," she yelled. "That's the same as attacking them yourself."
Bjarnson planted his staff firmly in the snow between them and set his shoulders, ready for a fight. They frowned at each other, surrounded by the sound of the wind and the crunching of bone as the bears continued to dine, oblivious to the argument.
"Zariel," Lulu said sharply from her pocket. "Please calm down."
The woman froze, glaring at the man. He matched her gaze, not prepared to give an inch. She took a deep breath and breathed it out slowly, and then took a step back. In a calmer but still hard voice, she said, "You shouldn't have done something like that without talking to the rest of us."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to apologize for releasing an animal from brutal captivity."
Zariel gripped her hilt tightly, but then turned and walked away from him. Pariah let out a sigh of relief.
She had mixed feelings about what had happened. Zariel was right, they had been negotiating so it was unfair to launch an attack. However, now that one of the bears was closer, she could see the sores under the fur that had been scraped away by the harnesses. From the way they enthusiastically chowed down on their captors, she guessed they hadn't been fed in a while.
There was no reason to stick around, so she said, "We should probably get moving. We don't want to stay around these bodies."
Bjarnson was still watching Zariel, who stood at the edge of the light from the burning wagon, staring off into the darkness as she clenched and unclenched her fists. He said, "Not yet. I want to attend to these arrow wounds first."
The first bear, the one who had already eaten about a third of the goblin he was feeding on, was the only one who was wounded. The archers inside the wagon had managed to get a couple of arrows into him before running away. The other bear was unhurt.
Pariah wasn't sure she agreed it was worth the danger, but he could make his own decisions. However, she stayed on the alert with her hand near her sword in case the bear got aggressive.
Bjarnson approached the animal slowly from the front, emanating an air of calm. The bear looked up at him curiously, its muzzle stained with red, but didn't seem upset by his presence. Bjarnson circled around to the side where the arrows were. He sunk his hands into the bear's fur, stroking and scratching it while making a low rumble in his throat. The animal alerted as his hands drifted towards the arrows, but he made calming noises and it relaxed.
He moved the fur away to examine the wound. He reached into his pack and withdrew a small knife; it looked more like a paring knife than a weapon. Continuing to make calming sounds at the bear, he brought the knife up to its skin.
The entire group was watching cautiously now, all dead silent, afraid that even a breath would cause the bear to react. The animal whipped its head around as Bjarnson cut into it, but it was more a gesture of surprise than anger. The man quickly calmed it and continued his careful surgery. It didn't look like it required much of a cut to free the arrow. He did the same with the second, and then tossed both arrows behind him into the snow. He said softly, "Let your flesh heal." Pariah wasn't sure if it was a spell or just a hope.
When he was done, he stepped away, bowed slightly to the great beast, and then turned back towards the party.
Pariah opened her mouth to say something, but he suddenly looked down towards the goblin boss's body with a frown. "What's this?" he asked. He bent down to recover a small pouch from the corpse's belt. It was made of some kind of skin she didn't recognize, and was laced very tightly. It had a symbol she didn't recognize embroidered into it. He carefully unlaced and opened the pouch as he walked back to the group.
Pariah peered over his elbow curiously. The pouch was filled with a greasy substance. Bjarnson smelled it, then dipped a finger into it. He felt it between thumb and forefinger before tasting it with the tip of his tongue. He gave a satisfied grunt and then put the pouch away. "Let's go," she said.
In irritation, Pariah said, "What was that?"
He didn't stop walking so she hurried after him, as did the others. Over his shoulder he said, "It's a healing salve made by the Tribe of the Elk. It's rare, usually reserved for the chief and his chosen few. I'm not sure how a goblin got his hands on it."
"Who are the Tribe of the Elk?" She figured she should learn about the locals since she might be there for a while.
He was silent for a while and she wondered if he hadn't heard her, but finally he said, "The Reghed nomads are the native people of the area. They are currently broken into four tribes: Elk, Bear, Wolf, Tiger. They are best avoided."
"Why?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she moved up closer and asked again, "Why?" He didn't answer and she didn't bother pressing the issue, though she filed the fact away for later.
They had arrived at the sled full of iron. The cargo was covered with a cloth that was tied underneath, presumably to protect the ingots from the moisture of the blown snow. The two lamps were mounted to the sled frame on poles in the back and appeared to be a permanent part of the structure.
Bjarnson wordlessly removed his pack and tossed it on top of the sled's cargo before gathering up one of the ropes and putting it over his shoulder. Following his lead, the others stacked their packs carefully on top of the iron and took up positions on the two ropes leading from the front of the sled. Pariah stood next to Bjarnson because there was something else she wanted to ask him.
The sled was shockingly heavy and hard to move, even with all five of them pulling. It was especially hard to turn it around. Finally, after taking the sled in a wide circle, they managed to get the load going back in the direction they'd come and they began slogging through the snow. Once they got the sled moving, it wasn't as hard to keep it going as long as they didn't stop. Bjarnson set the pace, a slow but steady trek towards where they'd left the dwarf's body.
After they'd been traveling for a bit, Pariah turned her head towards Bjarnson. "You said you talked to the bears. Is that true?"
They continued walking silently and she thought he wasn't going to answer, but he finally said, "Sort of. It's not speech like we are having now, or telepathy like your little friend. Some of it is about body language and attitude, but some of it is tapping into the natural voice of life that all creatures speak, even the creatures who have left nature behind to live in cities."
"So anyone can do it?" she asked, her interest piquing. Animals probably saw a lot that others didn't, and could get into spaces that even someone as slim as she was couldn't.
Again he was quiet as he considered his answer. "In a perfect world, yes, but most have lost the voice. It is not a skill like shooting a bow. It is a spiritual practice that requires attunement to the natural world."
Pariah was getting confused. "Is it a type of magic?" she asked.
"I suppose in a way it is, though not the magic of the Weave." She was surprised he knew about the Weave. She had heard about it from Farima and had met a few people who knew about it since. Even people who knew magic existed had no idea how it worked. She wouldn't have expected someone from the Icewind Dale wilderness to know about the Weave.
And then she couldn't help but silently laugh at herself. Nobody would expect a street kid from the Outer City to know about the Weave either. She disliked prejudice in others, and always tried to correct it in herself.
However, this brought her into a different line of thought. "If someone had been sensitive to a different kind of magic, do you think they could be attuned to this natural energy?"
He turned to give her a puzzled look that was hard to see inside his hood. He said, "I don't know. I haven't met anyone who has tried to attune to different magics. Priests do priest magic. Wizards do wizard magic. Some of us do nature magic."
"Maybe you could show me sometime, see if I have a talent for it."
He watched her, his breath fogging in front of his face once, twice, before he nodded. "I'm always willing to teach those who are willing to learn about the natural world."
They continued walking silently while she caught her breath, and then she said, "So you don't like cities?" She didn't mean it in an accusatory way, she was just curious about his attitude.
He shrugged. "I appreciate they provide valuable services that are not available in the wilderness. I understand that some people prefer them. Me, I enjoy the calm rhythm of the natural world."
Pariah smirked. "Calm rhythm? You mean like the yeti that ripped the dwarf apart? Or those bears?"
That got a small laugh out of him. "True. Nature can be violent, and yet that violence is part of the rhythm. It is the violence of territory or hunger or dominance. It is not the violence of pettiness or revenge. However, yeti are different. They are not beasts like the bears; they are intelligent and evil monsters. That is not the natural world I speak of."
"The bears weren't getting revenge?"
He made a thoughtful noise. "No, though it might have seemed like that. The bears realized the goblins were a threat so removed them from the environment. And their attack was driven mostly by hunger."
Pariah was getting tired. It had been a long trip out and, though the battle against the goblins had been short, the blow to her chest was aching. Zariel was pulling the rope in front of Bjarnson and was talking to Dejen to her side, but Pariah couldn't hear what they were saying. Eberic was in the lead, a rope over each shoulder.
Bjarnson commented, "You said you were from Baldur's Gate, right?"
"Yeah. You ever been there?"
"Naw. I've never been outside of Icewind Dale. Even Bryn Shander's a little big for me."
She grinned. "Then you'd hate Baldur's Gate. There's probably a hundred times the number of people there."
He chuckled in return and then hesitated. "You're kidding, right?" he asked uncertainly.
She shook her head. "Bryn Shander would barely be considered a neighborhood in a city that big. And the people are packed in tight, living on top of each other."
He considered that image for a long time before saying, "That sounds...awful. How do you stand it?"
"It's what I'm used to." She looked around her. The wind had lessened and there wasn't as much blowing snow, but she still couldn't see much past the edge of the lamplight. "I think I'd get bored in all this empty wilderness."
"There's always plenty to do to survive," he said. "Shelter, hunting, water, fire. Plenty to do. I gather you don't spend much time outdoors." She heard something in his voice. He felt sorry for her.
"Not really," she admitted. "Not unless you count out in the streets. But if you mean outside the city, not that much. Outdoors is more like something I travel through to get from one place to another."
"That's too bad. I feel like you're missing a lot."
"I may be," she admitted. "But it looks like I'll be able to experience all the outdoors I want to while I'm here."
That got a grin from him.
Further conversation was ended as they reached the end of the trail. The dwarf's remains still lay in the snow. They gathered around it, nobody wanting to be the one to grab it. Bjarnson said, "We could wrap him in that," he pointed towards the sled, or more precisely to the cloth covering the iron.
Dejen said, "Should the iron be exposed to the weather?"
It was Eberic who answered. "Wet iron invites rust, but I'm not about to wrap the body up in my bedroll either. So unless someone is carrying a burial shroud, I agree it's the best option."
Nobody had any better ideas so, after removing their packs from the top of the sled, they recovered the cloth. Bjarnson did the unpleasant job of putting the dwarf's torso, one arm and one leg onto the blanket and then wrapping them tightly. They looked around but found no other body parts in the snow.
"We should camp," Bjarnson said after they'd reloaded the sled with corpse and backpacks. "I spotted a cave along the way back to town, about an hour's hike. It should make a good shelter."
Dejen looked in that direction nervously. "Don't things live in caves?"
"Sometimes," the big man nodded. "I didn't see tracks outside the entrance, but I'll check it out before we move in. If it's occupied then we could always use the sled as the wall of a lean-to, though it won't be as warm. Either way, we should move on from here. Even old bodies leave scents behind that might attract scavengers."
Again they struggled to get the sled moving, but it finally surged forward and they plodded in the direction of Bryn Shander. Their old footprints had already been mostly erased by the wind and it wasn't long before there was no trail at all. Pariah had no choice but to trust that Bjarnson knew where he was going.
It felt like longer than an hour, but finally he signaled a stop and gestured towards a hill. There was a small opening; Pariah wouldn't have even noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out. He said, "Wait here while I check it out."
"Are you sure?" Pariah said. "Wouldn't it be better if we went together?"
"That's not necessary. I'm fairly certain it's empty; I'm just being careful." He trudged off into the snow holding his staff in front of him. It was glowing from Zariel's magic, and he held the tip out far ahead to light up the ground. He crouched down and poked it into the cave. Pariah couldn't see anything from this angle, but he stood back up with a satisfied nod and then walked back.
"Empty," he said. "Let's start making camp."
The cave was smaller than Pariah had expected. They'd have to sleep sitting up. Then again, a smaller cave would be warmer. At least the walls were solid dirt and rock rather than unstable snow.
He quickly put people to work. He and Zariel dragged the sled in front of the cave as a wind break. There were a few scrawny trees, and he sent Pariah to chop wood from them. Dejen cleaned debris out of the cave; from the animal bones it looked like something used to live here, but not recently. Eberic dug a shallow fire pit just outside the entrance. He took some of the branches Pariah brought back and built a tripod to stand over it.
Eberic and Bjarnson scoured the nearby area for edibles, managing to find nuts from the trees Pariah was chopping as well as a few dense berries. All together it would barely make a meal for one person, but it was a nice supplement to their rations.
Bjarnson melted a pot full of snow and added their forage plus choice pieces from their rations and a few spices from his own stores. Soon there was a delicious smelling soup simmering over the fire. They brought their bedrolls into the cave and left their packs outside, stacked next to the sled to extend the wind break.
By the time they were done, even Pariah was feeling tired from the cold pulling energy out of her body. The wind had started to pick up again, but sitting around the fire they were protected from the worst of it. The soup was tasty and hot, packed with chunks of turnip and fatty meat from their packs. Bjarnson had pushed them all to eat periodically as they traveled, so they weren't too hungry, but full bellies improved their moods substantially.
Bjarnson suggested they take watches through the night. He didn't normally when he traveled alone, but with so many people in the group it would be easy and safer. He gave them a quick lesson on how to tell time using the movement of the stars. He also told them that an aurora appeared in the sky every night shortly after midnight, and disappeared six hours later. Nobody knew what it was, but it had started when the Everlasting Rime began so it wasn't a stretch to assume they were related.
Dejen volunteered to take the first shift. He'd wake Pariah at moonset, and she'd stand sentry until the aurora appeared. While Dejen remained outside, the rest of them packed into the cave to crawl into their bedrolls. Squeezed between Bjarnson and Eberic, she leaned back against the hard cave wall, and quickly fell asleep to the sound of the wind roaring outside their small shelter.
Notes:
I posted this the night before I usually do because I'm going to be crazy busy tomorrow. In a related note, I'm going to have to drop to posting every two weeks for a while. A lot has been happening in my life and I haven't been able to find time to write. I still have 10 unpublished chapters so I have plenty of lead time, but I want to slow down until I can get back to 15+ chapters ahead.
The funny thing about this chapter is I meta-gamed having the party try to disable rather than kill the goblins, knowing the goblin leader would surrender and negotiate. I figured it was a good opportunity for Zariel to show compassion to an enemy or something like that. Then Bjarnson goes and releases the bears without asking me. Damn these characters who don't follow the plan, LOL!
I did actually run the battle through Roll20: the polar bears vs. the goblins while the PCs stood there in surprise. The goblins never had a chance.
I gave the party the goblin loot, such as it is (a few silver and copper), though I didn't explicitly describe it because looting dead bodies is a little creepy. The goblin boss was supposed to have two potions of animal friendship, but they've already got a druid in the party, so instead I gave them three doses of Keoghtom's ointment.
My final Midjourney character for this story is Eberic.
One of my early attempts displays the usual face cancer combined with the less realistic style I prefer to get away from.
I got hung up on his hair: black with spots of gray. Midjourney just doesn't like that. I often got weird textures, face cancer or Midjourney hands.
Eventually I got the first image I liked. I didn't like the profile pose, but Midjourney was able to transition that to a 3/4 portrait.
I continued to play but got hair that was too gray, or brown instead of black (because I tried to give him brown eyes), or beards that were too short. And the ongoing plague of face cancer.
I finally settled on this one. I'd rather it were a more realistic style, and hair in an obvious braid, but it's decent enough.
When I come back in two weeks, I'll show you the images I got for the Avernus PCs.
Chapter 12: Uninvited Guests
Summary:
Having recovered the iron shipment, the party spends the night in a cave before resuming their trek back to Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
Pariah stood just inside the mouth of the cave listening to the roar of hailstones hitting the ground, and the dull metallic thuds of them impacting the pile of iron ingots. The wind was blowing from behind the hill so their fire, located in a pit just outside the entrance, was in the lee of the storm. The flames danced around frantically but it didn't look like the fire was going to go out. Only a sliver of the fire's warmth seemed to be making it into the cave, but the body heat of the occupants seemed to be keeping the small space warm enough.
The hailstorm had started not too long after her watch had begun. The noise had caused some of the sleepers to stir but, when she reported no immediate danger, they had all drifted off back to sleep.
Well, other than Lulu, who was snuggled into Pariah's clothing. Asteri, like hollyphants, didn't sleep. Zariel would sometimes send her back to the Seven Heavens at night so the little angel didn't get bored, and didn't get into trouble trying to avoid being bored. She would then resummon her in the morning.
However, Lulu had elected to stay this night and sit up with each of the sentries. She had already been through Dejen's shift and had found him fun to talk to. She had assured Pariah that she hadn't told him about her and Zariel's past; that seemed like a bit too much information for someone who was still a stranger. They had talked a bit about her home in Mercuria, but nothing specific about her past.
Lulu asked, "I'm not familiar with all the mortal religions. Is there one where you talk to rocks?" She was currently inside the scarf Pariah had wrapped around her mouth, partially to keep warm and partially so she could talk into Pariah's ear to be heard above the storm.
Pariah gave her a sideways look. "There are all kinds of practices out there. Why do you ask?"
"During his shift, Dejen went off to do that weird bathroom thing you mortals do. He was gone for a while and the wind had died down, so I went out to look for him. He was holding a stone in his hand and talking to it. He was surprised when I found him, and he put it away quickly. He said he was praying. When I asked to who, just to see if it was someone I knew, he got annoyed and hurried back to camp."
"What did the stone look like?"
Lulu thought about it. "I didn't see it for long. It was about this big." She held her hands an inch apart. "Round and dark colored. It looked like a gem rather than just a rock. I think there was something inscribed on it."
"Probably just a religious symbol. I can't think of anyone who uses gems. Waukeen, maybe?" The goddess of trade might use gems. "Or some kind of god of miners?" She shook her head. "I'm not familiar with all of them."
"I guess," Lulu said reluctantly. "He was just so weird about it."
"Some people find religion very personal and don't like to talk about it," Pariah assured her. Then again, she said to herself, some people worship gods they didn't want people to know about. Still, it was probably nothing to worry about.
Pariah looked out into the noisy darkness, trying to keep her mind on her task. Sentry duty was boring; sentry duty when visibility was this low was even more boring. However, since she was unable to hear anything, she knew she'd have to keep an eye on the darkness.
"You didn't write in your journal tonight," Lulu said.
"It's too dark," Pariah replied. "And I can't sit by the fire because of the hail."
"I could make light if you want," Lulu said with excitement.
"No, that's all right. I'll catch up tomorrow when we are back in Bryn Shander."
The real problem was that Lulu was too curious for her own good, as the incident with Dejen demonstrated. Pariah liked journaling, but she didn't want to share these private thoughts with others. The previous night, she had written a little in the inn room she had shared with Zariel and Lulu, and had been forced to gently shoo the asteri away when she'd come over to see what was going on. Lulu had seemed a little offended, but had zipped back to Zariel's side of the room. Here, cramped in this cave, Lulu would have certainly tried to read what was being written.
Not that there was anything she'd write tonight that would be secret. She was musing about the encounter with the goblins, disappointed it had turned so violent. She wasn't sure she believed that Bjarnson hadn't sprung that attack on purpose, and Eberic had certainly deliberately killed that goblin despite the fact they had planned to try avoiding that. She'd seen how sparse and inferior the bandits' equipment had been and couldn't help but feel bad for their situation. None of that was information she'd hide from Lulu or Zariel.
She had spent some time studying the Dethek book she'd bought, trying to will the dwarven language into words she could understand, but that ability still eluded her.
Further rumination was interrupted when a hand twice the size of a human's reached out from behind the sled into the circle of light. The skin was blue-gray and covered in thick fur. The black-clawed fingers dug into the snow and pulled the hand forward.
"Hey!" she shouted as she drew her saber and grabbed her shield that was leaning against the wall. "Wake up! Lulu, can you provide some more light?"
The asteri darted out of her scarf, fluttered over to Pariah's shield and touched it while saying something in Enochian. The front of the shield glowed with a white light that brightly illuminated the area outside the cave, right up to the wall of iron ingots and backpacks that surrounded them. As Lulu dove back into the warmth of her cloak, Pariah looked in horror at the disembodied arm that was slowly dragging itself across the snow with its fingers, leaving a bloody trail in the snow behind it.
She heard the others moving behind her as she quickly stepped out and stabbed down at the hand. The point of her saber pierced the back of it, driving the arm into the snow. The arm flailed about, the fingers grasping at nothing as it tried to free itself. Pariah heard Bjarnson say, "Flame, to me," and a streak of fire came from inside the cave and burned the flesh of the arm. The severed limb continued to spasm, but another streak of flame stilled it.
Bjarnson said urgently, "Quickly, throw it into the fire. And keep an eye out for the rest of it."
Pariah carefully lifted the slack limb impaled on her sword. The arm was jaggedly severed at the elbow, and was thicker and much longer than a human forearm. She dumped the limb on top of the burning logs. Greasy smoke and a foul stench rose from the flames.
"The rest of what?" Zariel asked, having taken up station on the edge of the falling hail, peering into the darkness pushed back by the dimmer, bluish light of her own sword.
"Ice troll," Bjarnson said. He sent a few bolts of flame into the hail, the transient illumination showing nothing in the immediate area. "If one attacks, we run. We don't fight. We don't stand. We run and leave our supplies behind."
Everyone was up now. Pariah and Eberic moved up on either side of Zariel while the other two stayed back. Dejen lit up his lantern, though the light didn't pierce much further into the darkness than Pariah's glowing shield.
"Are ice trolls as bad as yetis?" Dejen asked.
Bjarnson replied, "Much worse. Not only are they huge and vicious, but they can heal from wounds instantly. And, as you see, even severed limbs stay alive for as long as a day. They are surrounded by an aura of bitter cold that will make you think this is a warm summer night. Fire's a good weapon but, as I said, we won't fight."
They stared vigilantly into the darkness and driving hail, but nothing stirred. Time passed and Pariah felt herself starting to relax, but forced herself to stay focused. "What I want to know," she said over her shoulder, "is what tore that thing's arm off. Do we need to be worried about that too?"
Bjarnson grunted but didn't reply.
The intensity of the hail started to lessen as did the wind, and still nothing stirred in the darkness. Pariah knew that their lights were a beacon to any enemies, visible from far outside the circle of illumination around them, but she was reluctant to suggest they douse them. If the weather hadn't been so bad she might have suggested Lulu fly out and look around, but she didn't think the little angel would fare well in the hailstorm.
Long minutes passed, and then Eberic said, "I'm going back to sleep. Wake me if monsters attack."
He headed back into the cave, though nobody else did. Pariah was surprised when she heard him snoring within minutes. He had said something about being in the militia, and soldiers often learned to sleep whenever and wherever they could. It wasn't much longer before Bjarnson said, "We should probably all try to get back to sleep. We could be here all night, and it's better to be rested in the morning."
Pariah wasn't sure she agreed with him, but again figured she'd trust the local. "I'll keep an eye out," she promised. Her adrenaline was still raging and she couldn't imagine going back to sleep after that.
As they got settled, she stepped back inside the mouth of the cave where it was a little warmer. The fire had reduced the arm mostly to bones, though the nasty odor persisted.
The night wore on. The light from her shield faded and she decided not to have Lulu relight it. However, it made her remember how they had used spell durations to tell time in Avernus.
"Hey, Lulu," she said softly. "How long does your light spell last?"
"I think it's about an hour," Lulu said from the depths of Pariah's cloak. "I've never timed it."
"Can you cast it again but really small? We could use it to mark time."
"Oh, that's a good idea. All right." She said something in Enochian, and a tiny glow came from within Pariah's cloak.
"Two of those per watch," Pariah said.
The hail finally stopped, though the wind still tore across the snow. She found herself wondering if it ever stopped. She heard the others restlessly tossing and turning, at least as much as they could while sitting up, and she wondered if anyone but Eberic had gotten back to sleep. When she glanced back into the cave, everyone's eyes seemed closed.
She and Lulu talked some, telepathically to avoid disturbing the others. Lulu knew a little about trolls, though not specifically ice trolls, and nothing more than Bjarnson had already said. Pariah was distant during the conversations, not wanting her attention to wander from her sentry duty. In addition to peering into the darkness, she scanned the snow for more ambulatory limbs, but the rest of her watch was quiet.
The wind started to calm. The sky was heavily overcast, with only a little starlight peeking through. She wondered if she'd see that aurora that Bjarnson had mentioned with the cloud cover, but she needn't have worried.
Pariah felt a sensation across her skin, like a static charge building in the air. The hair on her neck shifted and started to rise. She drew her sword, wondering if this was the precursor to attack. "Do you feel that?" she whispered to Lulu.
Before the asteri could respond, curtains of blue and purple light cascaded across the sky like waves lapping on a beach. The colors were deep and intense, painting the land in a dark hue that illuminated nothing. She was mesmerized by the shifting, dancing display and stood there, her mouth open, staring at the sky in wonder.
"It's beautiful," Lulu murmured.
"Yeah," Pariah said, her mind whirling. She knew she should be watching the landscape but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the show overhead. In a low voice, she said over her shoulder, "Is anyone else awake?" They should see this. It was amazing.
"I am," came Zariel's voice. Pariah heard her moving, her armor shifting as she rose and came to the mouth of the cave. "It is quite breathtaking."
"Yeah," Pariah said again, wishing she were more eloquent.
The wind started to pick up, blowing snow and driving a wave of cold towards them. The sudden change in weather broke the mood and Pariah drew her cloak tightly around her. "Well, I guess that's the start of your watch."
"Nothing else stirred?" Zariel asked as Lulu flew over to nestle into her cloak.
"No. It's been quiet. I guess the troll and whatever attacked it went another way."
"Thank Lathander," Zariel breathed. "I will remain vigilant, however."
"Good night, then," Pariah said as she headed into the cave.
Kythorn 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
They finished off the soup from the night before for breakfast, supplemented by nuts and the strange, dense bread from their rations. Bjarnson explained the bread was made from potatoes since they couldn't grow wheat here, hence the odd texture and taste. The meal was filling and the soup was hot, so it got them ready for the day's travel back to town.
The hot meal didn't make up for the fact that they were all tired from the travel yesterday. None of them had slept well in the bitter cold, even with the fire. It was better than not sleeping at all, but not by much.
Their supplies were covered in a layer of ice. The heat from the fire had been enough to let the snow and hail melt just enough to refreeze. It wasn't hard to break off the ice; Bjarnson had insisted they do so in order to avoid carrying extra weight.
"Are troll bones worth anything?" Pariah wondered aloud, looking into the dead fire.
"Probably," Bjarnson said. "A shaman or alchemist or someone can do something with them, I'd think. The hearts are very valuable, I know. I'm just not sure about the bones."
Pariah shrugged and dug the blackened bones out of the ashes of the fire. The forearm bones were almost as long as her entire leg. She dreaded the idea of meeting a monster this size. She shoved the long bones into straps of her pack, and gathered up as many of the hand and finger bones as she could find, storing them in a pocket. Then she put her pack on top of the pile of iron ingots along with the others and the body of the dwarf.
She sighed as she looked at the darkness around her. It was like Avernus in some ways. The lack of change in the light made it hard to tell time. Lulu had been diligent about maintaining her light spells as timers, though she'd transferred them to Bjarnson's lantern now that they were awake. Between that and the fact the breathtaking aurora had faded, Pariah calculated that it was between six and seven in the morning, though it might as well have been midnight.
The wind wasn't too bad this dark morning, though the cold was still as bitter and invasive as ever. They got the sled moving and the exercise warmed them up.
"Don't they usually use dogs for this?" she asked, remembering the ones she'd seen at Torg's.
"Not for a load this heavy," Bjarnson told her. "People used to use reindeer for heavy loads, but the population has dropped as the grazing has gotten harder to find and it's hard to keep the domesticated ones fed. So it takes people to move this kind of shipment. In fact, four dwarves seems like a light crew. They must have been moving pretty slow."
They continued slogging across the snow. The less intense wind didn't make the trek any easier. If anything, the cold seemed to seep into her clothing even worse than before, sucking away her energy and leaving her exhausted. She wasn't sure if it was also caused by her restless sleep, if she wasn't getting enough food, or if it was even a leftover effect from the chest blow she'd gotten from the goblin the day before. Regardless of the reason, she felt her pace slowing.
She was tempted to ignore it, not wanting to be a burden on the others, but remembered Bjarnson's warning that pushing past exhaustion could be deadly. Besides, if she was feeling the cold and exhaustion, she could only imagine what the others were experiencing.
"Hold on," she called out breathlessly. "I think I need a rest and a fire."
The procession slowed to a halt. Pariah felt a little guilty as she looked at the others. "I mean I can probably keep going for a while, but I'll need to stop before too long."
Zariel shook her head. "No, I feel the same," she said, her voice muffled by the scarf across her mouth. "I'm having trouble maintaining the travel pace."
Bjarnson pulled down his hood and fixed Pariah with a scrutinizing eye, raising his glowing lamp to get a good look at her face. "Your skin's pretty pale, even for you. Waxy. Everyone line up."
He inspected all of them, grunting at each but not saying anything else. He looked thoughtfully in the direction they were headed. When he didn't say anything, Zariel asked, "So, should we look for a place to shelter for a bit?"
His silence continued and then he turned to them. "We're headed for a cabin. I wanted to stop there anyhow, check in on Elva, plus it would be a good place to warm up." He ran a shrewd gaze over them. "It's about another hour, but I'm not sure if we should push for it or not."
There was a hint of a question in his tone. Pariah said, "If it's a cabin, meaning it's warm, then I can manage another hour."
The others agreed. Bjarnson continued to consider the idea and then said reluctantly, "All right, but speak up again if anything starts to go numb. I'd rather stop early then have one of you pass out on me."
The group got moving again, but the wind kicked up almost immediately as though the weather itself was telling them to stop. Knowing there was a shelter ahead that was more than the lee of a hill or a trench in the snow gave Pariah a burst of energy, but that faded quickly. However the sky started to lighten in the east and, even though she knew it wouldn't get much brighter, that slight glow in the darkness raised her spirits a bit.
It was still a hard slog but she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, moving as fast as she could. The sooner they got there, the sooner she could warm up.
Finally, she could see a sliver of light through the blowing snow ahead, lines of illumination that sketched out the shutters around a window. A small house with a steeply pitched roof sat on a rise of land, a line of smoke coming from the chimney. A pile of wood was stacked up under an overhang, and a stack of jagged ice blocks stood next to it. A trail was cleared from the front door to a nearby outhouse.
Bjarnson banged on the door. "Elva, it's Bjarnson. Let me in!"
"Hold your horses," came a woman's voice from inside. "I'm coming." Pariah heard a bar being lifted and then two metal bolts being drawn back before the door opened into the well-lit space beyond. A forty-ish human woman with green eyes and braided brown hair waved them in. "Come on, come on. You're letting the heat out."
They all hurried into the small cabin. It was a bit crowded with all of them inside. Dejen asked, "It's safe to leave our packs outside, yes?" They had left them stacked on the sled.
"Of course," Bjarnson said irritably as he loosened his coat.
"No," the woman said at the same time. "Something's been creeping around, trickster spirits of some kind. They get in the house when I'm asleep, knocking over my cups and stealing my cutlery. Better take your things inside."
"Trickster spirits?" Dejen said, his eyes lighting up. "Chwingas?"
The woman shrugged. "Maybe. I haven't seen them myself. I'm just tired of waking up in a cold draft and finding the windows are all open. Tea?"
There was a general mumble of affirmatives from the group before they went out to retrieve their packs; they decided to leave the corpse outside, though.
Once that was done, and they had closed the door again, they quickly shed their cold weather clothing. Lulu made a satisfied sigh as she stretched, and then started darting around the cabin, exploring. The small house was warm and brightly decorated in pastel colors. The main room had a small kitchen in one corner, where Elva was putting a kettle on the stove. A bed was pushed up against one wall, a straw-stuffed couch against another, and a wooden table and two chairs along the third, where the front door was. There was a closed door that led to another part of the cabin that Pariah estimated would be less than a third of the total square footage. The house was cozy and comfortable, a relief after the harsh environment they'd seen.
She had only four mugs, but Dejen and Zariel quickly supplied cups of their own as Elva brought the kettle around. The tea was strong and earthy, and she had a pot of honey for those who liked it sweet. She had no milk, but offered a knob of butter. Pariah hesitated, but remembered what Bjarnson had said about needing fat, so she let the woman drop it into her tea. Like so much of what she'd tasted here, the end result was odd but not bad.
Elva peered curiously at Lulu. "I don't have a cup small enough for you," she said with a half smile.
"That's OK," Lulu replied brightly. "I don't drink. I mean I can drink, but I don't have to."
Meanwhile, Bjarnson had stepped into the other room of the cabin and came out with a slab of meat plus mushrooms, potatoes, and some kind of darkly colored, long stemmed greens. Pariah got a glimpse of the dark space before the door closed and it appeared to be a cold pantry. After stacking the ingredients on the small counter in the kitchen, he returned to his pack for cooking tools and began preparing a meal.
"Need any help?" Pariah called out to be polite. She wasn't much of a cook, but could chop a vegetable if needed.
He shook his head, not looking up from his work.
Elva's eyes twinkled as she looked at him. "Don't bother the genius at work."
Pariah opened her mouth to reply, but Dejen interjected, "So, tell me more about these trickster spirits. I've been looking for chwingas, and I'm wondering if these might be them." He was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, his lantern still burning and sitting on the small dining table nearby.
"They might be," Elva admitted. "They showed up a few days ago. They're a nuisance but I've been tolerating them up until now. I'm just concerned what kind of mischief they might get up to the next time I go run my trap lines."
"Is that what you do out here?" he asked. "Trapping?"
She nodded. "Fox and rabbit mostly. I go through most of the meat myself, but the skins are worth something in Bryn Shander."
"That's a pretty big rabbit," Pariah observed dryly, nodding towards the large hunk of very dark meat Bjarnson was cutting into.
The woman chuckled. "That's a walrus I bagged on one of my trips to the coast." Raising her voice slightly, she called out teasingly, "That's the last of it, so don't burn it."
He grunted at her but didn't turn around.
Zariel asked, "You don't mind people just coming into your home and eating your food?"
Elva chuckled. "I have plenty and I don't mind sharing. The locals know this is a place they can stop, and people often bring me supplies so it's more of a communal arrangement. Mostly people just need a warm place to take a break."
They continued chatting amiably. The woman was friendly, but not overtly starved for company. She never asked anyone's name or their histories. The conversation was light, with a lot of talk about the weather.
The meal Bjarnson served them was filling and tasty. The walrus meat had a rubbery texture and a strong flavor with a hint of fish to it, and the blubber was salty and oily. She didn't hate it, but it wasn't her favorite. However the potatoes were baked to perfection and smothered in cheese. She doubted there were cows in the area, so wondered what kind of milk the butter and cheese came from. The mushroom and greens salad was a bit limp but full of flavor.
She noticed Bjarnson in the kitchen at one point, putting his head together with Elva to talk about something. They both kept stealing glances at Lulu. Pariah was curious what the conversation was about but couldn't hear anything from where she was.
She was sleepy after the heavy meal, but knew they should get back outside and on their way to Bryn Shander. They'd already missed a significant chunk of the short day here, and she didn't want to overstay their welcome. Maybe after a brief nap, though.
"Look!" Dejen suddenly yelled as he leapt to his feet. Pariah opened her eyes to see the room was bathed in emerald light. The flame from his lantern burned bright green, indicating there were elementals nearby.
Notes:
I rolled encounters for the night and got an ice troll (CR 8). Um...no. However, an ice troll arm using the troll's Loathsome Limbs rule seemed like a more reasonable encounter. I reasoned that the cold aura comes from the troll's heart, so the arm wouldn't have it.
Per my house rules, camping in the wilderness doesn't count as a long rest. You still need to sleep to avoid exhaustion, but you don't regenerate spells slots, hit points or hit dice.
I moved Elva from town into the wilderness, and I fleshed her out a bit.
And now my final musings about AI art. Once I'd gotten this group done in Midjourney, I moved on to the group from Avernus. I won't go into as much depth about the process as I did on the others.
Rowan, like Zariel, had lots of "pouty-lipped teen" pictures plus lots of very pale blonde hair. I tried to create the Tymoran coin around her neck, but I got really big discs that I'm pretty sure were inspired from pictures of athletes wearing Olympic medals. The big challenge was her metal arm. I got some good images at first, though it was the entire arm instead of just above the elbow but that's fine. However, I couldn't put her in any armor because as soon as I did, the "metal arm" became armor. After much screwing around, I finally got a decent result that I had to manually crop to make Rowan's final image.
Farima was my easiest. Three attempts to get a good upscaled image to use as a reference, two variants of that to get a better one. I did a little experimentation after that, but that second upscaled image was pretty damn close so we get Farima's final image.
Lythienne was very difficult at first. I could NOT get Midjourney to understand that elves have pointed ears! Using the phrase "pointed ears" tended to give horns or hair decorations; I saw other people having the same problem. I finally went out and found some drawings of elves to use as reference. I tried a few and eventually Elven girl 2 by Aloija turned out to give me good results. It didn’t take me long to get to a beautiful image, which I had to manually crop a bit to give Lythienne's final image.
And finally, I tried creating the main character from my superpowered villain-to-hero story, "A Growing Cataclysm" and got a decent result.
Chapter 13: Mischief Makers
Summary:
While the group is resting in Elva's cabin, Dejen's magical lantern has stared burning with a green flame, indicating elementals are nearby.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
The group gathered around the green flame of Dejen's lamp.
Elva looked back and forth between them in confusion. "What does that mean?"
"Elementals," Dejen breathed, mesmerized by the light. "Chwingas must be nearby. We have to go find them!"
That was fine with Pariah since, despite her post-meal lethargy, she knew they should get moving again. However, Bjarnson was less enthusiastic. "We don't want to spend too much time wandering around," he cautioned. "If we waste our energy, we won't be able to get back to Bryn Shander tonight."
"Agreed," Eberic said. "Chase spirits on your own time."
"Oh, but we must go after them," Dejen said cheerfully. "Dannika Graysteel says they might be the key to ending the Rime."
Bjarnson and Eberic both let out a skeptical grunt in unison.
Zariel looked at them in surprise. "Don't you want to break this curse? Return Lathander's blessing of the sun to this land?"
Eberic rolled his eyes. Bjarnson replied, "Of course we do, but every crackpot in the Dale has a theory about how to do that. This is at least the fourth of Graysteel's great ideas." He paused and then added in a kinder tone, "I know she means well, but she gets people's hopes up for nothing."
Dejen stood and firmed his shoulders. "Well, I wish to go look for them. You can all wait here if you like, but I'd like to at least look around a little."
"No, I'll go with you," Bjarnson sighed. To Elva he said, "Mind if we leave our things here for a bit while we poke around? I hope we won't be long."
"Of course not," she said, a look of concern on her face. "Be careful. If you are gone more than an hour...well, I won't come looking for you."
He grinned at her. "Liar."
Dejen had already put his furs and picked up the lamp. He waited impatiently at the door while the others bundled up. "Hurry," he said. "Before they leave again."
As though on cue, something banged against the shutters outside one of the windows. Pariah was startled and whirled towards the noise. Elva groaned and said, "Sometimes they throw ice chunks at the house."
Pariah said, "But they're harmless, right?"
"As near as I can tell. They play tricks. Sometimes those tricks can be nasty, though I don't think they mean any harm. Like one time they froze the patch in front of the door. I went kettle over teacup when I stepped on it, and could have hurt myself if I'd landed wrong, but it was just a prank."
Eberic grumbled, "Some of the ones near Dwarven Valley have gone crazy during this endless winter. Nobody's sure why. I agree most of them are annoying but harmless, but you got to be careful. The crazy ones'll kill you."
Elva gave him a skeptical look. "I hadn't heard that."
"I have," Bjarnson admitted. "It's usually the ones in the deep wilderness. I've never heard of ones this near the towns going bad, though."
Dejen asked thoughtfully, "Why do you think that happens? You think it's the Everlasting Rime that drives them mad?"
"Dunno," Bjarnson said. "Could be the winter. Could be the dark. Could be the black ice."
"What's the black ice?"
"Well, that's a pretty long story, but you'll find patches of black ice that's left over from something some wizard did a hundred or so years ago. This ice is also called chardalyn, and is both strong as iron and can be infused with magic. A lot of spellcasters look for it. Some claim it can also absorb evil, whatever that means, and then it turns creatures around it insane. I try to stay away from the stuff."
"Interesting, interesting," Dejen mumbled. "I'd like to talk more about that later, but we need to get moving!"
They made their way outside. The area was still dimly illuminated by the weak glow of the unrisen sun below the horizon, though the glow had moved from east to northwest. Dejen's lantern still burned green, and Zariel had cast a white glow on the boss of her shield, so there was enough light to see.
Bjarnson led them around to the shutter where they had heard the noise. Pariah peered into the darkness but saw nothing. Bjarnson crouched down to look in the snow. "Footprints," he said. "Three sets." Pariah could barely make out marks in the snow made by feet smaller than Lulu's. She'd have to take his word that it meant three individuals.
He pointed into the distance. "Tracks lead off this way." He added with a sigh, "Of course."
"Why 'of course'?" Pariah asked.
"There's a stand of trees not too far in that direction. Elva's tried to chop wood there, but one of the trees grabbed her and threw her out of the grove. Something protects them. She hasn't been back since."
"Something dangerous?"
He climbed back to his feet. "Everything in Icewind Dale is dangerous. Dangerous to us? I don't know."
Dejen raised the lantern to peer into the dim light; the trees were too far away to see from here. "But you don't think it's the chwingas doing that," he surmised. "A dryad perhaps?"
"Maybe," Bjarnson agreed. "I went there to try and talk to whatever is in the grove, but nothing replied. Then again, the trees didn't attack me either." He surveyed the group. "We might be fine if we don't harm the trees." To Dejen he added, "You'll have to douse that lamp just to be safe. I don't want to bring fire near the trees."
Dejen looked at the green flame thoughtfully. "Well..." he began.
"We have the trail," Bjarnson interrupted him. "We don't need the lantern to show us they are near."
"That's true," the other man admitted. "Very well." He lifted the globe to blow out the flame.
Bjarnson led them away from the cabin. He had been right: the stand of conifers weren’t all that far away. A couple of dozen trees stood ten or more feet tall, the wind blowing their evergreen boughs. They were surprisingly healthy considering the lack of light. The trail of footprints led into the copse.
Pariah tried to look into the grove but, for some reason, couldn't see past the trees. It's not that there was anything that blocked her vision, or that the light didn't reach. She just couldn't see past a certain point. It was as though thick brush was in the way, but nothing was there.
Eberic put up a hand and they all stopped, looking at him curiously. He pointed to the trees and tapped his ear. He waved the others into a huddle. "I hear movement and some kind of tapping sound." Pariah strained but could hear nothing above the wind.
"Let's go look," Dejen said excitedly, starting to step forward.
Bjarnson grabbed him. "Wait," he hissed. "Like I said, most chwingas are harmless, but some are dangerous. And even if they are safe, if we go charging in like a herd of stampeding reindeer, they'll scatter."
"I could go look," Lulu said from the depths of Zariel's cloak. "I can turn invisible. And I can see elementals and fey and all that kind of thing."
Zariel nodded as she watched the grove. "That might be a good idea. Plus I can see through her eyes if necessary." She looked down at the asteri. "We need to get you a coat when we get back to town, though."
"I'll be fine," Lulu said.
She flew out of Zariel's cloak and hovered for a bit. She put a hand over her eyes, said something in Enochian, and then removed her hand. She made a gesture like she was pulling a cloak over herself, and she faded from view.
Pariah felt Zariel's hand on her shoulder. "While I am using her vision and hearing," Zariel explained, her eyes glazed, "I have none of my own. This will keep me from getting disoriented."
It wasn't long before Zariel said, "I see them. Three, as you said. They are quite small, less than a handspan high. They are eating. Well, no, they are playing at eating. They have the plates and cutlery they stole from Elva and are miming eating, like children playing a game."
"Anything else, like a forest spirit?" Pariah asked, and then realized her mistake. "Oh, you can't hear me, can you?"
Zariel didn't respond. She moved her head as though she was looking around. "There is something in the trees," she said. "In the trees themselves, not just hiding among them. I don't think it's a dryad, but it is something fey."
She stiffened. "Oh, the chwingas have seen Lulu. They don't seem hostile, just curious. They are beckoning her to- No, Lulu, come back here first. Lulu!" She snorted in frustration and shook her head quickly to clear it as she broke the connection to Lulu. She looked at the group. "Lulu is playing with them. We should get in there, just in case."
"All right, but slowly," Bjarnson said. "No weapons."
They spread out and advanced into the pine trees. There was an odd, though not strong, urge to turn around but they pushed through and came out into a clearing. There was no wind here and no snow on the carpet of pine needles that covered the ground. There they saw Lulu sitting among three figures that looked like crude dolls made of wood and straw and pebbles. They had mask-like faces with no eyes or mouths. Sprays of bristly hair stuck out from the tops of their heads, and their limbs were spindly like sticks. These, presumably, were the chwinga.
The three creatures and Lulu were sitting around a plate. On the plate were two pinecones and a stack of short, evergreen twigs. One chwinga was holding a fork in both hands, the points of the tines resting lightly on one of the pinecones. Another held a butter knife, sawing the air over the pinecone as though they were cutting it. The fork wielder clumsily moved the fork, its tines empty, towards the third chwinga's face. The latter leaned forward and then made chewing noises, though it had no mouth to move.
The chwingas looked up as the newcomers entered the clearing. After a moment, the one who was "eating" beckoned them over, gesturing towards the plate as though offering them food.
"Come in, come in," Lulu chirped. "Join the party," she giggled.
Most of the group was momentarily stunned by the display, but Bjarnson stepped forward and gently lowered his great bulk near the plate. The chwingas scurried to the side to make room. "Thank you," he said with a nod, and then reached out to take an imaginary piece of food off the place. He put it in his mouth and chewed noisily. "Mmm, that's delicious!"
Eberic mumbled, "They've driven him mad," though he said it in a joking tone.
Dejen was watching the display with a wide grin. "But they're harmless, right?" he said as he reached into his coat.
"Yes, these ones appear uncorrupted," the dwarf confirmed.
"Amazing," the other man said. He pulled a wooden tool out of his clothing and began writing in the air with it. The implement was shaped roughly like a pencil, though with an asymmetric point, but it appeared to be made of solid hazel wood with no lead.
Pariah watched this display with growing bafflement. She could actually hear the scratch of the pen's nib on the air as though it was writing on parchment. "What are you doing?" she asked.
Dejen kept writing as he looked over at her, back to his implement and then back to her. "Oh, this is my quill. Well, it's not actually a quill. It's a tiny mind contained in a quill. It stores information, kind of like a book but much easier to carry." Content with his explanation, he went back to writing in the air.
Pariah frowned. "You all see that, right? It's not just me? I'm starting to wonder if we all really are being driven insane by the fey that protects these trees."
"No, no," Bjarnson said as he sipped tea from his imaginary cup. "He was doing that at the Northlook. If he's crazy, he's been crazy since before we got here."
Zariel was walking around the edge of the clearing looking carefully at the trees. "Lulu, you detected a fey presence, right? Is it in one of the trees?"
Lulu didn't take her attention off her imaginary meal. She waved vaguely towards the woods. "It's everywhere. In all the trees, but I think it's one spirit."
The warrior woman continued to scan for trouble. "It doesn't appear to be hostile, but fey creatures can be dangerous nonetheless. Their sense of humor can be cruel."
Pariah nodded knowingly, remembering Smiler the eladrin and the strange trickster creatures he had summoned into Bitter Breath's fortress.
Zariel addressed the trees, saying, "We mean no harm to this grove. We have been looking for the chwinga. Do you understand me?"
The trees towered over them silently. One of the chwingas stood and walked over to stand at her feet and stare up at her. She looked down, and Pariah half expected the chwinga to speak, but they just watched her while scratching their head.
After a time without a response, Zariel said something to the trees in Enochian, but got no response to that either.
Pariah tried Espruar, since that seemed like a likely language for a fey to speak. When nothing happened, she tried the language of giants, though didn't expect a response.
"You speak Jotun?" came a voice that surprised her, but she realized it was Bjarnson, speaking to her in the same language.
"A bit," she replied. "I learned it to read cloud giant philosophy. What about you?"
He seemed puzzled by her answer, and then said, "I occasionally live among the goliaths in the mountains. They taught me."
"Oh, really?" she said. She suspected there was a story there, but this wasn't the time.
She knew one more language, but didn't think the tongue of the Nine Hells would be useful here.
Bjarnson said something to the trees in a language Pariah didn't recognize, but still they got nothing. Perhaps the fey simply didn't want to talk.
By this time, Dejen had joined the sitting group, though he was still writing on the air. Eberic was watching the display with disdain, his arms crossed. Zariel was looking among the trees. Pariah wasn't sure what they should be doing. To Dejen, she said, "Well, we've found them. Now what?"
The chwinga had abandoned their game to inspect the visitors. One was playfully throwing tiny snowballs towards a giggling Lulu. Another was climbing Bjarnson's furs towards his shoulder while he held still patiently. The one who had been inspecting Zariel was now looking at Dejen. After a moment, the elemental picked up a twig and mirrored his writing motion.
Dejen grinned down at the tiny doll-like figure. "Can you understand me? I was hoping you'd come back to town with me." The chwinga continued their play writing and didn't respond.
Pariah said, "Lulu, can you talk to them with your mind?"
"Yeah, I've been doing that," she said as she dodged another snowball. "They don't really talk or think like us, but we kind of understand each other." She pointed to the one by Dejen. "That one will come with us for a day or two."
"Wonderful," gushed Dejen.
Bjarnson looked towards the chwinga that was still trying to climb the mountain of his furs. "In that case, we should get moving. We still have a long way to go before getting back to Bryn Shander."
Pariah looked around the grove wistfully. Although she was wary of the fey presence, there was a satisfying calmness here. Of course, she wondered if that was a fey trick to get them to fall asleep to invade their dreams or something like that.
Dejen reached out a hand and the chwinga jumped into his palm. He cradled the creature in the crook of his arm as he regained his feet. Bjarnson gently removed the one climbing on him and set them down before doing the same. The group gathered as Eberic, the only one who didn't seem enamored by the little creatures, lead the way out of the grove.
The wind tore across them as soon as they exited the stand of trees, like someone had flung open a door. They pulled their furs tightly around them and trudged through the fading light back to Elva's cabin.
"You made it," the woman said as they came in through the door, a hint of relief in her tone. She frowned. "Is that one of the little pests?"
"He's not a pest," Dejen said defensively. "He's going to help Dannika Graysteel research the Endless Rime. And they were very nice to us."
Bjarnson explained, "We found them in that group of trees west of here."
"Oh, that place," she said, the corners of her mouth tightening. "I stay away from there."
He retrieved his pack, carrying it in one hand rather than putting it on. "I told them about what happened to you. It's calm inside, protected, and we found three of the things. Oh, and some of your cutlery."
"And you didn't bring it back?"
"No," he said with an embarrassed grin. "They seemed to be enjoying playing with it."
"You're just useless," she grunted at him, though in a friendly way. She gave him a quick hug and said, "Be careful on the way back. Stop by again. Bring me some bacon if you think of it."
"I'll do my best," he promised.
They all retrieved their packs, said their goodbyes to her, and headed back out into the cold outdoors. The light had faded by now, and the nearly endless night had returned. They put their packs on the pile of iron ingots, wrestled the sled away from its position near the door, and started back towards town.
The trip back seemed easier, and Pariah wondered if that was because of their new friend. Dejen informed them that he wasn't feeling the cold as strongly as before, and he could see through the blowing snow as though it weren't there. Not only that, but he seemed to have acquired an intuitive sense of direction that allowed him to correct Bjarnson when they drifted off course.
Unfortunately, Zariel still struggled with the cold. She tried to soldier on through it, but her pace slowed as the freezing temperatures sapped away her energy. Since they traveled at the speed of their slowest member, they were forced to stop once they found some shelter from the wind so they could have a fire and some hot tea.
She apologized for the trouble she was causing, but nobody seemed to mind, other than possibly Eberic but that could also have been just his normal grumpiness. Pariah wondered if her vulnerability was related to her celestial origin, or if it was something as mundane as she had gotten a poorly made fur cloak that wasn't keeping in the heat.
Finally, as they were all getting to the end of their stamina, they saw the lights of Bryn Shander in the distance. They were headed for the North Gate, which was both the closest entrance and near their destination of the Northlook. The gates were closed as usual, though someone stepped out onto the top of the wall from one of the towers as the group approached.
The guard was the usual anonymous bundle of furs. They only knew it was a man when he called down, "What's your business in Bryn Shander?"
Pariah groaned. She wanted to get inside to hot mead and hot stew.
Bjarnson stepped forward and pulled back his hood. "Usem? Is that you?"
The guard pulled back his own hood to reveal a pale man wearing goggles. A dark colored scarf had been pulled down from his mouth but still covered his chin. "Bjarnson, good to see you." His tone was more casual now. "What've you got there?"
Bjarnson jerked a thumb towards the sled. "We recovered a lost shipment headed to Blackiron. Were you on duty two nights ago when those three dwarves came in?"
"Yeah, I remember them," the guard nodded. "Who's everyone else? Are you locals?"
Bjarnson answered for them. "Eberic's from Termalaine. The rest are newcomers."
"Newcomers," he said with a snort of a laugh. "We don't get many of those..." He trailed off, and Pariah could see him frown. He had been leaning forward on the battlement, but he stood up straight. "The ones from that same night? The ones who arrived naked?"
"We weren't naked," Pariah called up with a roll of her eyes.
The guard said, "And you said Eberic? A dwarf?"
"What of it?" the aforementioned challenged.
A cold feeling started up Pariah's spine, and it wasn't the wind. It was her instincts. This is the point where the smart street kid ducked into an alley and started running, but there was nowhere to go other than back into the wilderness.
"Wait there," said Usem, his voice back in official guard mode. "Don't move!" He hurried back into the tower.
"Talona's tits," Pariah mumbled. "What's this all about? Eberic, are you wanted?"
"What?" he said with exaggerated innocence. "Of course not."
That was an obvious lie, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her only hope was that, whatever he was wanted for, it wouldn't rub off on the rest of them. She hadn't done anything wrong, not that that would stop the city guard from harassing her.
She could hear footsteps and voices on the other side of the wall, guards rushing into position. She was about to suggest that Lulu take a peek to see what was going on, when someone called out, "Open the gate!" and the massive wooden doors started to move.
The gate opened to reveal a dozen guards with spears and swords. She'd been greeted by a similar but smaller group upon her arrival to the city, but those guards had just been cautious. These guards were hostile.
They rushed out and surrounded the group. "Nobody move!" said Usem.
"What's going on?" Bjarnson demanded.
"Bjarnson, you can go," the guard said. "The rest of you, show your faces and identify yourselves."
The big man frowned at the guard. "No, I think I'll stay. And you haven't answered me. What's going on?"
Usem replied, "If you want to stay, fine, but don't interfere." To the others he repeated, "Names!"
Pariah was angry, but knew better than to argue with him. She gave her name as did the others. The guard nodded in confirmation at each one.
"The four of you will turn over your weapons and accompany us to see the sheriff. Any resistance will be assumed to be a threat to the security of the city and will be dealt with accordingly. Surrender your arms!"
Notes:
A few weeks ago I got my hands on the module Legacy of the Crystal Shard, an Icewind Dale adventure set in 1485 that describes Auril's antics during the Sundering. It's a pretty obvious precursor to this adventure -- she's trying to create eternal winter -- and yet the events of that time aren't referenced at all.
One useful section talked about Auril, what she wants from her worshipers, how her cults work, the name of the cult leader back in 1485, and information on her Chosen. This all directly relates to this module, so it would have been nice if it had been repeated here.
I've made a few retroactive changes as a result. The only important one is that the House of the Triad didn't burn down. It was destroyed, the doors were smashed open, and the place was encased in a thin layer of ice.
That module also mentions black ice. Black ice was formed by the evil crystalline artifact, Crenshinibon, when the wizard Akar Kessell tried to conquer Icewind Dale in the 1350s. It could be worked like metal and turned its users evil.
There is also a substance mentioned in other sources called chardalyn. It is a naturally occurring stone, can absorb magic, and is not evil.
Black ice and chardalyn have been merged into a single substance in this module. Chardalyn can now be shaped like black ice, easily accepts enchantments and, though it is not inherently aligned, can become good or evil if exposed to the right kind of magic. WotC just can't stand leaving canon alone...
The module had the chwingas found in a grove of trees, but I feel like trees near any habitation would have been chopped down long ago so I added the mysterious guardian spirit to explain why these trees are still standing.
I've added an effect to the module's "Charm of the Snow Walker" -- you don't get lost in bad weather.
Chapter 14: Detained
Summary:
Having finally made it back to Bryn Shander, the group finds themselves surrounded by a crowd of armed and aggressive city guards.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
In a hard voice, Zariel said, "Of course we will cooperate with local law enforcement, but you still haven't told us what this is all about." Despite her words, her hand was on the hilt of her longsword and she radiated threat.
Pariah reached out to put a hand on the other woman's sword arm. Zariel jerked her head to turn an angry face to her. Pariah sympathized with the emotion, but she'd dealt with city guards her whole life and knew this wasn't the way to handle it. She shook her head slightly at Zariel and, after a moment, the woman took a breath and removed her hand from her weapon.
Pariah said to Usem, "She's right. You still haven't told us anything. Why are we being arrested?"
"The sheriff wants to talk to you. That's all I know. Now turn over your weapons right now or this is going to get violent."
The tiefling wasn't happy about this, but there weren't really any options here. She unbuckled her sword belt and handed it over to one of the soldiers. Dejen gave them his crossbow, though he seemed bewildered by what was happening. The woman he handed it to patted him down, taking a dagger as well.
Usem gave the chwinga sitting on the man's shoulder a frown. "Keep that thing under control," he said as he watched them being disarmed.
Eberic and Zariel were both defiant, and Pariah was afraid they were going to cause a problem. Zariel reluctantly handed over her longsword, saying ominously, "Take care of this weapon. I shall be angry if anything happens to it."
The dwarf clung to his shortsword's sheath as he eyed the guards, but finally handed it over, his jaw muscles bulging as he clenched his teeth.
One of the guards stopped in front of Bjarnson, who held a quarterstaff. The guard looked over at Usem, who shook his head and waved the guard off.
"Come with us," Usem said as he turned back to the gate.
"Hold up a moment," Bjarnson said, hurrying up to the man. "Can we check in at the Northlook first?"
"You want to stop for a drink?" the guard asked in disbelief.
The big man shook his head. "No, but we finished a job for three dwarves staying there, and I don't want to haul a sledful of iron through the town while we figure this out. Let us finish our business there and then go on to the sheriff."
Usem looked back at the group as he considered the idea. Bjarnson added, "It's right there." He pointed to the inn that was just inside the gate. "It won't take long."
"Fine," the guard said irritably. "You can go into the Northlook and bring them outside. And we aren't going to be all day about it, either, so don't dawdle."
"Of course," Bjarnson said with a nod.
The group took their positions on the ropes again, all except for Eberic. He stood there, arms crossed, looking them over like they were insane, but finally mumbled, "Ridiculous," as he grabbed one of the ropes.
They had to haul the sled only about a hundred feet before they were in front of the Northlook. A couple of people further down the street stopped to look at this spectacle of people hauling a sled of supplies while surrounded by the town guard, but nobody interfered.
Bjarnson hurried inside while the others waited impatiently. Pariah thought of something and said, "As long as we're here, can we drop our backpacks in our rooms?"
"No!" Usem said sharply, his patience at an end. "This isn't a sightseeing trip."
"Fine, fine," she said. "We'll take them with us." She stepped over to grab her pack off the sled.
"Stop!" Usem said. "You there," he gestured towards some of the guards. "Get the packs."
Pariah supposed that made sense. If nothing else, there were bows and javelins among the packs so they'd have to confiscate them anyhow. And if the city guard wanted to carry her luggage, that was fine with her.
"Um," Dejen said hesitantly as the guards started to reach for one of the bundles. "Not that one."
"Why not?" Usem asked suspiciously.
"That's not our supplies. It's a body."
"A body?" Again the tension rose among the guards.
Pariah sighed. "We didn't do that. It was a yeti attack. We are bringing it to the same people who hired us to find the iron."
Luckily, the aforementioned dwarves came out of the Northlook at that moment.
"You found it!" said the female dwarf in disbelief. Hruna was her name, if Pariah remembered correctly.
Bjarnson put a hand on the wrapped bundle on top of the iron. "This is your friend," he said gently. "Be warned: the yeti didn't leave much behind."
"As expected," she said gloomily. "Thank you for recovering what you could." She looked towards the inn and back. "Hmm, it's not like we can take him inside," she said helplessly.
Usem rubbed his chin. "You can take him to the crypts in the southeast part of town. Gregor Tyrlylth is the keeper. You can inter him here, or he can keep the body until you are ready to go back to Dwarven Valley." The dwarves looked in the general direction indicated, bewildered, and Usem said to one of the soldiers, "Show them the way."
"Thank you," the dwarven woman said distantly. "Oh, and I guess we owe you all some gems." She fished in a pouch and pulled out three dark green stones with red blotches that looked very much like blood. Each was about the size of a hazelnut.
Bjarnson took them with a grateful nod. Eberic said suspiciously, "Those are for all of us."
"I know," Bjarnson said in irritation. "Let's deal with this," he waved at the guards surrounding them, "and then we'll figure out how to split the payment."
Eberic grunted while giving him the stink eye, but didn't pursue it.
"Let's go," Usem said sharply.
The guards marched them down the street to the marketplace. The plaza was empty, with no sign of Torg's. Pariah remembered that they had said they'd be moving on. The guards herded them towards the Town Hall, through the double doors and into the open space beyond. The hall itself was empty and dark, lit only by the lanterns of the party and one carried by the four guards who had accompanied them inside. The vast space was mostly empty, with some furniture shoved off to the sides. Three closed doors were on the left wall but the guards guided them towards the back of the hall, their footsteps on the wooden floor echoing in the empty space.
At the back of the hall a short flight of stone steps led down, and a light came from below. A sign affixed to the wall read, "Markham Southwell, Sheriff". The steps led down into a cellar with walls of hard-packed earth. A small jail cell was off to one side, and a bald, dark-skinned man with a graying beard sat behind a desk on the far side of the small room. A stove in the corner kept the room only slightly warmer than the outside.
"Here are the people you were looking for," said Usem.
The man looked them over with a cold expression. When he didn't speak, Zariel said, "I assume you are the sheriff? I am Zariel Dawnseeker, and I wish to know why we have been brought here."
The sheriff continued to watch them silently, finally saying, "Two nights ago, Berron Flintstorm was murdered. The very next morning, you all left town. Most of you arrived in Bryn Shander shortly before the murder. I find those to be suspicious circumstances."
Pariah was trying to hold her temper, but she had never like officious guardsmen like this man. "So you just arrest random travelers hoping to stumble on the real killer?" she asked sharply.
"I investigate suspicious persons," he said coldly. "And you all are very suspicious." Before she could give a retort, he pointed his finger and snapped, "You!"
Dejen, the target of his aggression, paled. "Me?" he asked nervously.
"You arrived in town on the seventeenth. Where did you come from?"
Dejen stammered under the man's gaze. Pariah could see he wasn't acting guilty, regardless of what the sheriff thought. Instead, he just seemed scared and unsure of what to say. "T-Tethyr," he stammered out. "Riatavin. I'm here to study the Everlasting Rime."
"And where were you the night of the murder?"
"At the Northlook." He quickly pointed to Bjarnson. "He saw me there. So did the innkeeper. And other people."
"And where were you after midnight, when the aurora was in the sky."
"Uh, well, in my room. Asleep."
"Alone?"
"Well...yes," he said weakly.
Unexpectedly, the sheriff whirled on Pariah. "And you two. You arrived the nineteenth, the very day of the murder, and appeared under very unusual circumstances."
"We weren't naked!" Pariah said in irritation.
Her response took him aback for a moment, but then he pressed on. "Can you account for your whereabouts at the time of the murder?"
"We were also in the Northlook, asleep." She jerked a thumb to Zariel. "We shared a room so we can vouch for each other."
Southwell snorted derisively. "You could be in on it together, so I hardly think either of you is qualified to alibi the other. And I've had trouble with your kind in the past."
Pariah's anger flared. "What do you mean by 'your kind'?" she demanded, taking a step forward.
"Sheriff," Zariel said quickly. "I can assure you we know nothing about this murder. I swear by Lathander and Amaunator that neither of us were involved."
Pariah and Southwell glared at each other silently, neither willing to back off. Lulu poked her head out of Zariel's cloak and said, "I don't sleep. I saw them in the room all night."
The sheriff glanced down at Lulu with a slight furrowing of his brow, but didn't relax.
"Enough!" snapped Eberic. "Let me guess, the woman was found stabbed through the heart with a shard of ice, right? That means it's one of the Coldheart Murders."
The sheriff suddenly grew calm as he turned towards the dwarf, his mouth spreading into a sinister grin. "And how, may I ask, did you know the murder weapon? I said nothing about it."
Pariah looked over at the dwarf, studying him as the corners of her mouth tightened. He had a suspicious air, had been evasive about his past, and had been in a fight the night before they left. Could they have been traveling with a murderer?
Eberic just sneered at the sheriff. "It's the right night for it. You say that someone got murdered in Bryn Shander three days after the new moon, then it was one of the Coldheart Murders. It doesn't take a genius sheriff to put that together," he said sarcastically.
He pointed at Pariah and Zariel. "They weren't even in the Dale the night of the last murder." He pointed at Dejen, "And he was in Bryn Shander the night of the previous murder in Talos. So none of 'em could have been involved."
The sheriff's grin widened as he leaned forward and placed his hands on his desk. "You seem awfully knowledgeable about the murders for some random bystander. Why is that?"
"Pfft. It's all anyone talks about. Ask anyone and they can tell you the same."
"True, true," Southwell said. "Of course, they weren't spotted skulking the streets that night like you were."
Eberic pursed his lips but said nothing.
"And you arrived on the evening of the eighteenth. And where was it you came from? Oh, that's right, Targos. Funny that, because Gafne Rumblebrooke was murdered there on the seventeenth. You are here the night of the Bryn Shander murder, and in Targos the night of that murder. How do I know you didn't kill her as well?"
The dwarf surged forward and slammed his fist on the desk. "Because she was my friend!" he bellowed. "Twenty years she's been my friend. When my son disappeared into a blizzard, she's the only one who stayed out searching with me. And when we got attacked by crag cats, she dragged my unconscious body through the snow back to Dwarven Valley, even with her legs all torn up like that. Yes, I was in the streets that night because I was looking for the killer. You want to do me for murder, fine, then just wait a bit, because when I find the bastard who killed Gafne, I'm going to cut his heart out!"
A stunned silence settled over the room, broken only by the creak of the cell hinge being moved back and forth by the chwinga, who was studying the door in fascination and ignoring the loud conversation.
Southwell's smile had faded into a look of calculation, which quickly turned into a scowl. "So you admit you were in Targos. And you admit that Gafne Rumblebrooke was your friend. That's really quite interesting, because Gafne Rumblebrooke was selected by the Talos lottery. She had been tied up naked in the wilderness as an offering to Auril. The funny thing is that her body was found fully dressed in furs on the outskirts of town. Maybe you didn't kill her, but interfering with a sacrifice carries the same penalty in Talos."
Eberic's fists clenched and Pariah was suddenly concerned she was going to have to choose sides in a fight, but then a woman's voice came from behind them.
"I think that's quite enough, Sheriff Southwell," the voice said sternly. "It seems clear that there are no murderers here, and I don't think we need to concern ourselves with Talos business."
Pariah turned to see a woman coming down the steps. Her skin was pale, like most of the residents of this town that hadn't seen the sun in over two years. Her brown hair reached past the fur stole wrapped around her shoulders, and her grey eyes looked over the group with shrewd insight.
The sheriff pursed his lips. "Speaker, in matters of law enforcement-"
"I know, I know," she said tiredly, putting up a hand to forestall his comment. "And I normally don't interfere but, be honest, do you really think any of these people are involved in the Coldheart Murders?"
The sheriff looked back at the dwarf, but then blew out a breath as his anger faded. He flopped back down into his chair, its legs scraping slightly against the stone floor. "No," he sighed. "I suppose not."
The woman nodded towards the newcomers and said, "I am Duvessa Shane, the speaker of Bryn Shander. I understand most of you are newcomers to our town. I'm afraid you haven't found us at our best."
There was an awkward silence at the sudden change in emotions in the room, until Zariel spoke up and said, "Of course, no apology necessary. We are happy to be of assistance to the local government." With a sharp look at Southwell, she added, "Though it would have been nice to have been asked rather than hauled in like common criminals."
The sheriff returned her stare but said nothing.
Shane leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. "Unfortunately, dark forces are at work in the area and we are forced to monitor visitors to ensure public safety. So, if I may ask, why are you all here?"
"We," Zariel motioned to include Pariah, "are here investigating the Everlasting Rime. And Lulu as well." She pulled back her cloak to reveal the asteri, who waved cheerfully.
Dejen said, "I am, too."
"Are you together?" Shane asked.
He shook his head. "No. That is to say we didn't arrive together. I'm interested in the arcane forces behind such a widespread climate phenomenon." He looked at Zariel inquisitively.
"I was sent here by a vision from Lathander," the woman offered. "I believe he wants to know why this region has been denied his blessing."
That remark got only the barest of raised eyebrows from the speaker. She glanced at Pariah.
"I kind of got dragged along with her," the tiefling said. "We're...acquaintances."
The speaker's eyes lingered thoughtfully on her for a moment before moving on to the dwarf.
"I'm just traveling," he grumbled.
Shane tilted her head back slightly. "Traveling looking for the murderer of your friend?" she said.
Eberic shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching his fists. Then he nodded.
"And what insight can you give us to the murderer's identity?" she asked, seeming with genuine interest.
He gave her a confused and suspicious look. "Why?"
She showed surprise at his question. "Because we want to catch this person or persons, just like you do. It is difficult enough to keep order under the present circumstance without the complication of people fearing being murdered in the night. Any information you can give us would be helpful."
The internal debate flashed across his face, but he said reluctantly, "Not much. I know the murders occur after the new moon. I know they always happen first in Talos, then Bryn Shander, then Easthaven."
She nodded. "That's more than most people know. In fact, I'm surprised so few have noticed the pattern."
The dwarf scowled for a moment, continuing his internal deliberation, before admitting, "And I fought him that night."
"What?" said the sheriff. "What night?"
"The night of the murder."
The sheriff was on his feet. "What did he look like?" he demanded.
Eberic turned to him. He was clearly angry, and it took Pariah a moment to realize he wasn't angry at the sheriff. "I don't know," he grated. "He was cloaked in some kind of shadow. I knew he was tall -- one of your people rather than one of mine." He pulled on his beard. "Probably not elven, unless he was sturdier than your average treehugger. Maybe orcish, but I'd say human."
"What else?" Southwell asked, disappointment in his tone.
"He fought with a dagger made of ice. No weapons. No clank of armor plating, no creak of leather. He -- and I say he but it might have been a woman -- didn't speak."
"What happened when you fought?"
The dwarf ground his teeth and his cheeks flushed slightly. "He was too much for me," he admitted. "I realized that quick, so I ran. It was near the East Gate. I ran by there, hoping he wouldn't follow because of the guards. He didn't. I slipped into the shadows and he either didn't chase me or just didn't find me."
Pariah asked, "Why did you go with us? I'd think you would have wanted to follow him to Easthaven."
Eberic met her gaze. "Because I thought it might be him." He pointed.
"Me?" said Dejen in shock. "Why me?"
"You were new in town. You were leaving which, like the sheriff said, was kind of suspicious. You were the right height and build." He gestured towards Zariel, "She's too tall," and then towards Pariah, "and whoever it was definitely didn't have a tail, so I thought it might be you. But I saw you fight. You don't move like him and you wear armor. And you're not stealthy like he was."
"Oh," Dejen said, still stunned by the accusation. "And what if I had been him?"
The dwarf glared. "I would have killed you in your sleep."
"I see," the man said weakly.
Southwell asked Eberic, "Anything else you can tell us?"
The dwarf shook his head. "Nothing. He's probably already killed in Easthaven." Angrily he added, "I'll have to wait another month to find him."
The sheriff resumed his seat, disappointed. "Human. Cloaked in shadow. Probably a lone killer." He sighed, "Well, I guess that's a little more than we knew before."
Zariel said to Eberic, "You will continue to hunt him?"
"Until he's dead," he said firmly.
"Would you accept help? Perhaps if we fought him together, we would stand a better chance of defeating him."
"Why?" he asked her suspiciously.
"Because justice must prevail," she said, squaring her shoulders. "I have other business here, but that doesn't mean I would stand by and watch a murderer walk free." She hesitated and turned to Pariah. "Forgive me, I shouldn’t speak for you. I would understand if you didn't want to accompany us."
"No, I'll come," Pariah said. "I'd rather hunt a killer than chase the whims of the gods."
She thought Zariel might be offended by the last comment, but the other woman smiled. "Excellent!" She looked back at Eberic. "We can travel to Easthaven together."
"I suppose," he said, still skeptical.
Dejen said timidly, "Perhaps I could come along as well? I mean, once I've brought the chwinga to Dannika Graysteel, and if she doesn't have any other advice for me." With a sheepish grin, he said, "I don't know anyone here other than you all and, I have to admit, the environment is more hostile than I had been expecting. And since you," he nodded at Zariel, "are also interested in studying the Rime, we could assist one another with that."
She beamed at him. "Of course. We're happy for any additional help."
All eyes turned towards Bjarnson, who was surprised by being put on the spot all of a sudden. He cocked his head and scratched his beard. "I suppose I could tag along for a while. It's only a matter of time until this lunatic kills someone I care about."
Dejen looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Since he only strikes around the new moon, he wouldn't be a lunatic. The very word implies the full moon. He'd be some sort of an anti-lunatic, a sort of dark..." He trailed off as he realized everyone was staring at him. "Ah, sorry," he said nervously. "My mind wanders in strange lands sometimes."
A friendly chuckle went through most of the group.
Pariah turned to the sheriff. "So if we're done here, can we get our weapons back?"
He huffed, but motioned to the guards to give them their possessions.
Speaker Shane had been watching the group shrewdly. "It occurs to me, sheriff, that such a motivated group of outsiders could be of some use to us."
Notes:
Surprise! I'm posting even though I said it would be two weeks. I'm back to writing regularly and have decided to start posting weekly again.
The murderer being cloaked in shadow was something I added.
I read about Southwell after writing this and I probably wrote him a bit too irritable. He's generally more controlled, but I suppose two years in the Everlasting Rime has taken its toll :-)
Chapter 15: The Coldheart Murders
Summary:
Released from custody, the group gets more information on the Coldheart Murders from Speaker Duvessa Shane.
Notes:
A quick note for people who follow this fic but aren't subscribers: I did post a chapter last week, contrary to what I had planned, and I'm back to weekly posts. I just want to be sure nobody misses a chapter, especially since there was some important exposition last week.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
The chair creaked as Sheriff Southwell leaned back to study the group skeptically. "I don't need help from a bunch of troublemakers," he grumbled.
Pariah couldn't stay silent. "What trouble have we made?" she demanded. "We were minding our own business until you dragged us in for no reason."
"The point," Speaker Shane interjected firmly, "is that our authority is limited. Easthaven shares information on their own investigations, but Targos does not. And even with Easthaven, we get limited information and after a delay. Having a group of independent but motivated freelancers on the case might be to everyone's benefit."
The sheriff scowled at her. "I don't like mob justice."
Again, before she could shut herself up, Pariah said, "Ha!"
That got her raised eyebrows from the sheriff. She pressed on. "This town does the lottery too, right? You send some innocent person to die for no reason. How is that any different than mob justice?"
"That's not the same thing!" he barked. "The sacrifices keep Auril at bay, protect everyone else. You heard what happened at Targos, didn't you?" He glanced at Eberic and then back at Pariah. "Day-long blizzard buried the town after someone interfered with the sacrifice. The lotteries keep order, right, Speaker?"
Shane glowered at him. "You know my position on the lottery," she said to him coldly.
Zariel asked, "And what position is that?"
The speaker replied, "I think it's barbaric, and I've argued against the lottery from the first time it was proposed."
Pariah looked over at her in surprise. "You're the speaker. That's like the town boss, right? So why not just stop them."
A look of defeat passed briefly over the speaker's face. "I'm the speaker, yes, but that doesn't make me God-Emperor of Bryn Shander. I'm an elected official and, if I ignore the will of the people, they will simply kick me out like they did during that nonsense with Gant a few years ago. The Aurilites could easily get one of their own elected, and then they'd have a chokehold on the town." She shook her head. "I was able to get some concessions, such as voluntary participation and limit the sacrifices to adults, but I couldn't block the practice entirely."
"And that's better?" the tiefling asked skeptically.
"It is," she sighed. "But that leads me to a fact about the murders that nobody knows about other than the sheriff and I. There is a link among the victims."
Eberic perked up. "What's that?" he asked with interest.
Shane pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against and faced the group. "Every adult citizen of Bryn Shander was required to fill out a lottery form where they indicated whether they wanted to participate or not. The list of volunteers is a closely guarded secret known only to me and Sheriff Southwell. All three people killed in Bryn Shander had chosen not to participate in the lottery. By itself that might be just a coincidence, though the list of non-volunteers is quite short."
"Is it?" Pariah asked. "I'd think most people wouldn't want to participate."
Shane nodded. "That's what I expected, but many people are trying to protect others: their spouses, their friends, their adult children, whoever. They volunteer hoping to be taken in the place of those they care about. Plus, the more who participate, the less likely any one person will be chosen. More than four in five adult residents are signed up for the lottery. But that's not the interesting part."
She put her arms behind her back and continued. "I consulted with Speaker Atteberry about the victims in Easthaven. Their lottery is not voluntary, but I'm smart enough to know that money and influence talk, and certain people can be confident they will never be picked in the random drawing. While I was unable to get any confirmation, the two victims in Easthaven were both the kind of people with connections that could get them excluded from the lottery. And Sheriff Southwell has spoken to the sheriff of Targos." She looked at him significantly.
Southwell grunted. "Skath is a nasty old lying backstabber, but one night I got him drunk enough to admit that both the victims in previous months had bribed the speaker to avoid being in the lottery."
Shane added, "And then this month, the Talos sacrifice was rescued, and she ends up dead." She hesitated and then said to Eberic, "You have my sympathies for your loss, but it's a significant detail. The killer seems to be hunting those who escape Auril's sacrifices."
Zariel said, "Do you think someone could be giving information to the killer?"
"Maybe," the speaker said thoughtfully. "I can't speak for the other towns, but the list of lottery participants is kept in a safe in my office. I don't believe anyone has stolen it. It's possible the victims told others of their refusal to participate, but that seems unlikely. There is a lot of public pressure to sign up to avoid the wrath of Auril." She leaned back against the wall again. "That leads me to believe the person might be getting information from Auril herself."
Dejen interjected, "Then it has been proven that the goddess Auril is behind the Everlasting Rime? Because I've have heard other theories."
"Wizards? Necromancers? Frost giants?" She gave a mirthless grin. "We've heard those as well, but I see more and more evidence that Auril is behind it. The blizzard at Targos, for example."
"Then how do we stop it?"
Shane looked at him in surprise. "I'm not sure we do. The sacrifices merely seem to keep her from making it worse. I'm not sure we have anything she wants, and you can't stop the actions of the immortals."
"Sure you can," Pariah blurted out.
"Oh?" the speaker said, turning a look of interest on her.
Pariah realized she should have stayed silent. "Nothing," she waved off. "Just stories I've heard."
We stopped the plans of an immortal, she said to herself. Of course they also had an army and fiend-killing weapons and the backing of several other immortals. And Zariel hadn't been a god, just one of the nine most powerful devils in the universe.
There was an uncomfortable silence until Shane got back to the subject. "My thought is that your group can investigate without worrying about the politics of the individual towns. If you can identify the murderer, I'd be willing to offer a bounty of fifty dragons. If you can bring in the murderer, dead or alive, I'll make it a hundred."
"Dead," Eberic said to the rest of the group. "If you all want to tag along, well, I'll be glad for the help. But I am going to kill this bastard, not arrest him."
Zariel crossed her arms. "Like the sheriff, I'm not a fan of mob justice. If this man has broken the law, then he should face trial."
"Dead!" Eberic glared at her. "Or stay behind."
The speaker said, "If it makes you feel better, he'll be executed anyhow. Killing him just saves us the trouble."
An array of emotions played across Zariel's face. Finally, she said, "Well, let us start by finding him and then we can discuss his fate."
"Dead," Eberic mumbled as he turned away.
"How do we find him?" Pariah asked the room in general.
Southwell said, "I don't have any information to give you other than what he already knows," with a jerk of his head towards Eberic. "You could go to Easthaven. If he hasn't killed yet, you might catch him in the act. If he's already struck, then maybe Speaker Atteberry or Captain Arlaggath can tell you something."
Dejen made a thoughtful noise. "Other than the lottery, is there anything else the Bryn Shander victims have had in common?"
The sheriff shook his head. "Nothing I've been able to find. As far as I can tell none of them were friends or even knew each other. And no links with the victims in the other towns. No witnesses to anything."
Zariel said, "I will pray to Lathander for guidance, and ask Mishann if she's received any signs."
Southwell made a sour face but didn't comment.
Zariel continued, "Which reminds me. What do you know about the death of Dellvon Ludwig? Surely the unusual ice formations in the House of the Triad point to Auril's followers." She said the last in a tone of rebuke.
"Gods, another sun worshipper bothering me about that temple," he mumbled. More loudly, he said, "Even if I agree with your conclusion, that still doesn't point to a specific person. I can't just arrest the entire cult. I've talked to Malari Janus, the head of the Aurilites here in Bryn Shander. I've even talked to Davrick Fain, who seems to be the head of the whole lot of them across Ten-Towns. Both claim they know nothing about the murder."
Pariah said, "So it was murder?"
Southwell pursed his lips and debated with himself, but then said, "Probably. He was frozen to death, and I mean frozen solid. Simple exposure doesn't do that."
"Do you believe they were telling the truth?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
Pariah got the impression he damn well knew they were lying.
Shane said, "Whether or not you agree with their religious practices, the Aurilites hold a lot of power around here. Political power at least and, if you believe their sermons, the favor of the Frostmaiden as well. Cross them, and face Auril's wrath."
Angrily, Zariel said, "But then there is no justice!"
The speaker said firmly, "Bring us proof of the murderer's identity -- proof mind you, not just speculation -- and we'll take our chances with Auril and her followers. But we aren't going to have a witch hunt like we're in Targos."
Zariel was obviously conflicted, but finally admitted, "That is fair. Perhaps after we have brought the Coldheart Killer to you, we can see that the murderer of Dellvon Ludwig is punished as well."
The conversation seemed to be over and, not wanting to stay around the sheriff any longer than she had to, Pariah said, "Then let's go get rooms at the Northlook. We can head out in the morning. How far is Easthaven?"
It was Bjarnson who answered. "As little as a couple hours by sled, couple days on foot."
Two more days in that bleak wilderness didn't sound appealing. "What would it take to get a sled?"
He surveyed the group, mumbling numbers to himself. "Two big sleds. At least five or six dogs. That'd run a hundred fifty or two hundred dragons."
Pariah was a little surprised at the price, but not that surprised once she thought about it. She guessed the dogs were the major cost. Draft animals were often very expensive, and in a place like this would be as essential to travelers as a good fire. "I was afraid of that," she sighed. "Anyone here who can afford that?"
She hoped Zariel still had access to funds, but the woman shook her head gloomily along with the others. "Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. "Well, then I guess we walk. Let's go." She started towards the stairs. They had already gotten their weapons back, and she grabbed her backpack from the guard as she passed him.
They headed back through the dark town hall towards the front entrance, though they were forced to wait briefly while Dejen called to the chwinga who was still busy exploring the sheriff's office. That gave them all time to bundle up again before heading back out into the cold.
Pariah watched the doll-like elemental scamper across the floor after Dejen. "Should we drop that off? You were finding one for someone, right?"
"Oh," Dejen said in disappointment, looking down at the creature. "Yes, I suppose so. Why don't you all go get us rooms and I'll join you at the inn."
Zariel opened the door to the outside, letting in a gust of cold wind. "I think I'd like to meet her, see what insight she has about the Everlasting Rime. And I'd like to stop by the House of the Morninglord this evening."
Eberic grunted, "I need a drink so I'm going to the inn." He gave Bjarnson a sharp look. "And we still need to split the proceeds from the job."
"I haven't forgotten," the big man said in irritation. "We can stop by Blackiron to replenish supplies and oil. He can probably offer cash for the gems."
Pariah looked down at the bones sticking out of her pack. "Would they buy troll bones?"
"Probably," he said. "They buy most anything."
"Then I'll tag along." She turned to Zariel and Dejen. "Why don't we do that while you handle the chwinga and talk to the priest. We can meet up back at the inn."
Nobody objected, so the two groups split up and headed into the dim streets of the town.
They stopped by Blackiron Blades to replenish their supplies. The dwarven brother and sister who ran the place were friendly and just a little desperate for business. Pariah looked over their wares out of courtesy. The adventuring gear had been fine, but the weapons and armor were clearly poor quality even to her eye. The proprietors bought the troll bones for a handful of silver coins and had been willing to exchange the gems for an assortment of gold, silver and smaller gems that would be easier to spend. Apparently, due to the mine in Termalaine, gem stones were used as currency nearly as often as coins.
Now, the three adventurers sat behind their empty plates at the Northlook, all of them working on their second mugs of mead. Pariah and Bjarnson both had their winter clothes open to let in the meager heat from the stove. Eberic was still wearing his fur cloak, hood pulled up to cover his head. Pariah suspected it wasn't because of the cold. If he really had freed his friend from the sacrifice -- and she supported that decision -- then he was probably on the run from Targos authorities. She wondered if the sheriff here would send a message to Targos about him, though she hadn't gotten the impression that the two towns were very friendly.
She wanted to ask him more about the woman he had freed, but this might not be the best place for it. Instead she asked, "Eberic, you mentioned your son had gone out into a blizzard. Was he ever found?"
The dwarf stared into his mead for a while before grunting, "No."
Pariah's heart broke. "I'm sorry," she said, putting a hand on his arm. She wasn't sure whether asking if he had other children would be appropriate.
Before she could speak, Eberic reached into his cloak and pulled out a flat, ivory-colored oval. He put it on the table in front of her, the object making a dull click as it hit the wood. It was a piece of bone about the size of her palm, polished and carved into an image of a dwarven woman and a young boy. The image was highlighted with lines of dark pigment that were slightly faded or chipped in places. She'd never seen this kind of carving before, and was amazed by the level of detail.
"What was his name?" she asked.
"Ummor."
She was curious but she could feel the pain radiating off of him so didn't want to probe the wound. "Good-looking boy," she said as she passed the carving back to him. "That's your wife?"
"Marrit," he nodded as he took the carving. He looked at it for a moment before putting it back in his cloak. "Ummor was ten," he said, his voice rough. "There was a storm. Me and Marrit each thought the other was watching him. We don't know how he got out, why he got out, where he was going. Search parties tried, but they all gave up pretty quick 'cause of the storm. Me and Gafne kept looking, but we got ambushed by crag cats. Next thing I knew, I woke up back in Dwarven Valley barely alive. Her legs were so torn up she walked with canes the rest of her life. They never did find my boy."
"I'm sorry," she said again, feeling the words were inadequate.
He shrugged. "Been three years. Easier on some days, harder on others. Especially when the wind's blowing."
He pushed his chair away from the table. "Going to sleep," he said brusquely. "See you in the morning." He headed towards the stairs.
She watched him go. "I guess I should have kept my mouth shut," she sighed, feeling guilty that she'd probed that wound.
"I think you did fine," Bjarnson said. "Grief's tough, but I've found most people want to talk about the people they miss. Besides, we've all had a rough day. I'm about one more mead away from turning in myself."
She gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, I guess I am too." Searching for a less controversial subject, she said, "Tell me a little more about this nature magic you use."
He was silent but she'd come to realize that meant he was thinking. He was a slow speaker, sometimes taking long pauses during the conversation. That seemed to be the way his mind worked. Maybe he'd always been like that, or maybe it was an effect of living in isolation for long periods. She tried to be patient during these pauses and not interrupt him if he seemed to be preparing his next words.
"During my long years living in the wild, and with the help of some of its residents, I've become attuned to the magic inherent to the natural world. I can tap into it for a few small things." He held out his hand. "Fire, come to me." A small flame appeared in the palm of his hand, burning just above the skin.
She found his phrasing odd. "When you say 'residents', do you mean humans and dwarves and such, or something else?"
"A little of both," he said uncomfortably. "The magic I've learned isn't the coerced, rigid magic of a wizard who is taming power. It is the difference between picking berries off a bush rather than growing crops in straight rows. It's the warmth of a campfire, not the fury of the forge. It's refuge in a cave rather than shelter in a building." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Does that makes sense?"
"It does," she confirmed, mesmerized by his description. "It sounds wonderful."
He cocked his head. "Your magic seems different as well, not exactly natural but not the rote recitations of a wizard. What is its source?"
"Oh, that's kind of a long story," Pariah said dismissively. "So when you talked to the bears, were you actually speaking bear? You know, like growling or something?"
He chuckled. "No, nothing like that." He was silent as he considered his reply. "Animals don't communicate with words. They use body language and attitude and energy. It's a matter of tapping into that to send a message."
"Oh, that's right. You said that before," she nodded, remembering their conversation right after the bear attack. "And you said it's not like telepathy."
"That's right. It's just...communication. I'm not sure how to express it."
Pariah had been mulling over an idea they had briefly touched on before. "Are you still willing to see if my magical skills could work with your natural magic, like talking to animals?"
He looked her over with a skeptical air. "I don't know how compatible different types of magic are. It might be like trying to use a shovel as a hammer; it'll work, but it's not going to be very efficient."
Pariah grinned. "Well, if you don't want to dig any holes, then you need to find something else do to with that shovel." Her smiled faded and she grew more serious as she said, "But would you be willing to try to teach me? I mean it sounds like we are going to be stuck together for a while. I'm...having a little trouble controlling some of my magic and maybe I can, I don't know, channel it into natural things."
Bjarnson nodded with a slight smile. "I would be happy to. I've never thought about redirecting magical energies."
Although the idea excited her, Pariah said tiredly, "But not tonight, I think," as she signaled to the barkeep for two more meads. "Maybe once we are on the road tomorrow."
"Agreed," he said. "Teaching while travelling can be challenging, but might be best for something like this."
"Oh, I don't know," she said. "Half the Espruar I know I learned from a friend while walking through..." She broke off and quickly changed her sentence to end with, "...a difficult environment."
There was a hiss as the barkeep plunged the hot irons into their drinks to warm them up. Pariah looked towards the door with a worried expression. "I wonder what's taking them so long," she said.
"I don't know this person they are taking the chwinga to, but maybe she's a talker," he suggested. "Plus they were going to pray at the temple. Look, I know the murders have people on edge, but this town is one of the safest places in Icewind Dale."
"I'm sure it is," she said, still a little worried.
The barkeep put the drinks on the table and collected their empty dishes and mugs, as well as a few coins from Pariah. Bjarnson said, "We could go look for them, if you want."
She considered it but said, "No, I suppose that's not really necessary. We'll give them a little more time." Truth be told, she didn't want to leave the warm inn, and they really were probably fine.
They chatted about inconsequential things as they sipped their drinks, and she listened as he opened up about himself. He had grown up in the town of Lonelywood, and became a wanderer once he was an adult. He spent most of his time living in the wilderness. He didn't mind the towns but preferred the natural world. The wilds had become more hostile since the start of the Everlasting Rime, so he spent more time in towns than before, but he still preferred living outdoors. He probably spent more time among the Thuunlakalaga goliaths in the mountains than among the people of Ten-Towns. He grimaced when the subject of the Reghed nomad tribes came up and didn't have much to say about them.
He lied about a few things, and wasn't very good at it. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He was just evasive about some details of his past and his present, and she could sympathize with that. After all, she had a few secrets of her own. She'd learned to appreciate the difference between keeping secrets and just maintaining your privacy.
Eventually, they both headed to their rooms. He was sharing with Dejen like she was sharing with Zariel; neither had returned, and Pariah was just starting to worry.
She distracted herself by pulling out her Dethek book and concentrating on the words, trying to force them to make sense, but they were as meaningless as before. Frustrated, though not surprised, she pulled out her journal and wrote an entry describing the expedition to recover the iron, the difficulty of the journey, a few comments on her new traveling companions, and a rant against the authoritarian sheriff and their brief detention.
She jumped when the door opened, and saw it was Zariel coming into the room with Lulu flying beside her. "You're back!" Pariah said with a bit too much relief in her voice.
"Yes. Sorry it took so long. We had an interesting conversation with Dannika Graysteel about the Everlasting Rime, plus she introduced us to a local furrier who thinks she can make some cold weather clothing for Lulu by morning."
"Really?" Pariah said. That was exciting news.
"It's going to be great!" Lulu exclaimed. "I don't like being stuck in Zariel's cloak all the time." Then, abashed, she said to Zariel, "Um, that is..."
Zariel smiled warmly at her. "I understand. You don't like being restrained. I'm very happy about this as well." She turned back to Pariah and said, "Dejen and I are going to take our meal before retiring." She looked at Pariah with concern and said, "I was going to invite you to join us, but you look very tired."
Now that her worry had fled, the drink and the fatigue were quickly taking control of Pariah's body. "I already ate. And I'd like to hear more about tonight, but maybe over breakfast. Thanks for letting me know you're all right." She had previously shed her armor, so she crawled under the thick blanket and was asleep within moments.
Notes:
I've gotten rid of Hlin Trollbane as the quest giver for the murders. I had planned for Eberic to replace him, offering the bounty out of his own pocket, but it makes more sense for Shane to offer the money.
One of the criticisms of the module is having a Good-aligned speaker like Duvessa Shane performing human sacrifice doesn't make sense. Some DMs change alignments of town leaders, which I also plan to do, but I liked the idea of Shane still being Good, but realizing that negotiating a voluntary lottery as a compromise is the best she can do. I've replaced the Easthaven speaker (Danneth Waylen) with one of my own creation (Galbek Atteberry). Sheriff Southwell and Captain Arlaggath have been changed from Good to Neutral. Shane's mention of "that nonsense with Gant" was a reference to events from Legacy of the Crystal Shard.
They've all gained level 2. I'll link the character sheets next chapter.
During their first expedition to recover the iron shipment, I was rolling saves against the cold every hour like I'm supposed to, but that gets tedious. Instead, I did the math and figured out that the need to take short rests every time someone gets too cold works out to a 50% increase in travel time. I'll do that instead of rolling and writing about their frequent stops to warm up. I'll still roll weather and encounters.
Chapter 16: Hollow Visions
Summary:
A new morning dawns in Bryn Shander as the group prepares to travel to Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 22, 1496 (6 days after the New Moon)
Although the communal stewpot simmered on the stove as normal, Scramsax had brought in a huge slab of reindeer meat that had been smoking all night in the oven behind the inn. It was laid out on one of the tables next to a slab of blubber, a stack of flatbreads and a tub of something that looked like ground meat. The latter turned out to be a mixture of berries, whipped fat and dried fish. It seemed like an odd combination, but Pariah was surprised to find it was sweet, like a dessert. The group washed the breakfast down with mugs of hot, piney tea.
During the meal, Zariel and Dejen told the rest of them about the previous night. They had visited Dannika Graysteel, and Dejen had managed to make the chwinga understand that they were to stay with this new person for a while. The scholar had been fascinated by the elemental, but said it would take days or weeks of study before she could come to any conclusions about their role, if any, in the Everlasting Rime. She told Dejen to keep the lantern, and said she'd be happy to take in any other chwingas found in his travels.
As Zariel had mentioned the night before, Dannika had known of a local furrier who might be capable of the delicate work involved in making cold weather clothing for Lulu. The woman had been fascinated by the little angel, and excited about the challenge of the task. She had taken careful measurements and had planned to stay up all night to get the work done before the group left that morning. The plan was to stop by her shop to pick up the new outfit before leaving.
Finally, they had gone to the House of the Morninglord so that Zariel could pray, petitioning Lathander for guidance. She had been disappointed that Graysteel hadn't had a more specific plan for how to deal with the Everlasting Rime, and was unsure what the group's next step should be. Barring any guidance on that, she had hoped for some direction on how to find this murderer who was stalking the area.
Dejen said, "And did you get any interesting dreams last night? You thought you might." He didn't look up from his work. He had his snow goggles on the table in front of him and was hunched over them, writing tiny symbols along the edge of the lenses with that strange wooden quill he used.
Zariel had started to raise a fork to her mouth, but stopped and slowly lowered it back to the plate. "I'm not sure. I remember a dream where I was floating above the land." She looked at Pariah and said, "It was similar to the dream I had at Candlekeep, the one that brought us here."
Pariah hid her pursed lips behind her mug as she drank another swallow of tea. Let the gods do their own dirty work, she thought to herself.
Zariel continued, "It was night and I could barely see the terrain below, but something was moving in a circle." She touched the tip of her finger to the table above a knot in the wood and then traced a circle to the left around the knot. "It revolved around the edge of what I could see." She shook her head. "The path of the sun maybe? It can't rise, but I've noticed it circles around behind the mountains." Her finger stopped. "But it goes in this direction, starting here," she touched the right side of the imaginary circle, "and going this way." She traced the bottom of the circle towards the left.
That fit what Pariah had seen during the brief day they'd experienced outdoors. The glow started in the east, circled to the south, and then the west before fading.
"Does he mean we should reverse the sun?" Zariel mumbled, mostly to herself. "Or perhaps it isn't the sun. Perhaps it's something else."
Bjarnson studied the imaginary circle, saying, "I can't think of any animal migrations that follow that pattern. Or Reghed migrations, which follow the same path as the animals."
"It's a mystery," Zariel said in disappointment.
"Say it," came Lulu's voice in Pariah's mind. "You know you want to."
Pariah grinned at her. "Fucking immortals," she thought back.
Lulu giggled.
Zariel continued, "I suppose it will become clear in time. I will have to meditate on its meaning. And, if the rest of you wouldn't mind, I'd like to talk to Mishann about its meaning on the way out of town."
Dejen straightened up from the goggles with a satisfied grunt and a grin. "There," he declared to nobody in particular.
"What are you working on?" Pariah asked.
He turned red-rimmed eyes towards her. "Well, after we got back last night, I had some insights about my magic and managed to make some breakthroughs. These goggles will allow me to see better in low light conditions here. And I also figured out a way to attach spells to phantom crossbow bolts and-"
"Don't you dare!" Scramsax roared.
Dejen looked embarrassed. "I said I was sorry!" he insisted.
Confused, Pariah asked the innkeeper, "What happened?"
The man glared at Dejen. "I woke up in the middle of the night to him yelling. I came out and found him beating out a fire with his cloak." He pointed to the scorched wood on the back of a chair.
"It was an accident," Dejen said plaintively. "I didn't realize I had the trigger depressed as I cast the spell. It won't happen again."
"It better not," the innkeeper said with a scowl.
Dejen hung his head apologetically, and then whispered to Pariah, "I'll show you when we get outside."
Bjarnson was grinning. "Is that what I heard last night. I woke up to yelling but it didn't sound like anything serious so I went back to sleep." His grin was replaced by a look of concern. "You weren't in the room. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"
"Hmm? Oh, sure," Dejen said distractedly, looking through the lenses of his goggles critically. "A little."
Bjarnson pursed his lips. "We have a hard journey ahead. No lagging behind."
"I won't, I won't."
The big man grunted in reply, and then said, "It sounds like there are a couple of stops we want to make before leaving: the furrier and the temple. In that case, we should get moving. The longer we wait, the longer it takes." To Dejen he said pointedly, "So you might want to get your things."
"Hmm?" he said again, and then he looked at the rest of the group. They had all put on their armor and brought down their backpacks. Dejen was in disheveled clothing that looked slept in and had no equipment other than the goggles, a set of tools, and his quill. "Oh, yes, I'll go do that."
He gathered his things and headed up the stairs. As they watched him go, Eberic mumbled, "He seems pretty helpless."
Bjarnson said, "Oh, he's not so bad for a city boy."
"Hey!" Pariah said in mock indignation.
He chuckled. "I feel like your experience in the city was different than his. You've got survival skills. He seems...well, 'pampered' isn't exactly it, but you know what I mean."
"Sheltered," Zariel suggested. "I agree he seems to lack experience, but he means well. And he's a kind man. On our way back last night, he stopped to check on a woman in the marketplace. I gathered that she has no home, just shelters in one of the abandon buildings. He said he met her during his initial stay here, when he was asking people about the Everlasting Rime."
"Beldora?" Bjarnson asked.
Zariel nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe that was her name. You know her?"
"Some," he shrugged. "There aren't many living like that around there. Well, to be blunt, not many still alive since the long winter started. She does a few odd jobs around town, clearing snow, tending fires and such. A couple people have offered to give her a place to stay, but she likes her independence." He nodded with approval. "I can see that."
"That's a hard life," Pariah said. She knew what it was like, and couldn't imagine living rough in an environment like this.
"People look out for her. She's well liked," he assured her.
"Is she?" Zariel asked in surprise. "That's not to say I disliked her, but Dejen said she was painfully shy around people. He wanted me to stay back while he spoke with her. I think he gave her some money."
Bjarnson's brow furrowed. "I think one of you is confused. Beldora is quite friendly, not shy at all."
"Perhaps we are speaking of different people. About 30, olive skin, long dark hair, gray cloak. Actually quite pretty considering her difficult circumstances."
He nodded. "And you said she hangs out in the marketplace? Yeah, that's her."
"How odd," Zariel mused. "Well, perhaps she was having a difficult night. No matter."
It wasn't too long before Dejen came downstairs carrying his pack, a suit of scale mail showing under his open coat. He was wearing his goggles and peering around the room curiously. Bjarnson got to his feet and said, "We should go."
Pariah braced herself for the usual gust of wind when they opened the door, but the air outside was still. It was still bitterly cold, but the lack of wind made it a little less miserable. The sky was clear and a sea of stars shone down on them.
Once the door was closed, Dejen said with excitement, "As I said, I believe I've discovered a way to tie brief enchantments to my crossbow. Let me show you."
"We should get going," Bjarnson said sternly.
"Yes, yes, in a moment," the other man replied as he cocked his small, one-handed crossbow, though he didn't insert a bolt. He reached into his coat and took out his quill as he looked around for a target. He saw a few people moving in the main road, so he headed off towards a side street, which he found empty. Satisfied, he aimed the crossbow down the street. He mumbled something as he wrote symbols in the air over the weapon, and then pulled the trigger. A fiery bolt shot out of the empty crossbow and tore a bright streak through the darkness. It struck the stone wall of a building at the end of the short street with a small burst of flame.
"It works!" he crowed. "Isn't it wonderful?"
Pariah hadn't expected much, but she was impressed by the demonstration. "That's actually pretty nice," she said. "How did you do that?"
"Explain while we walk," Bjarnson insisted. "Zariel, where did you want to go first?"
"The furrier's," she said. "I'll lead the way."
She strode off down the street and the others came along behind her, Dejen and Pariah at the back. He explained, "I can attach spells to objects. See, like here." He pointed to the side of his crossbow and she saw a string of symbols written there. "This is a mild enchantment that causes the bolts to fly a little straighter and faster. However, it takes a long time to write the symbols very precisely. I've been working on a kind of shorthand that lets me abbreviate the magic. It means I can enchant an object in a heartbeat, though the spell is unstable and lasts only briefly. However, that's perfectly fine for a spell like that one I just used."
He chattered on as they walked, explaining that he could create a phantom bolt that could turn into fire, explode into glowing light that would paint everything in an area, or burst into a cloud of sleep magic. And this was just the beginning. He was convinced he could expand the practice to shortcut many other enchantments.
Zariel led them through the streets towards the southern part of the city, stopping in front of a house made of brown stone. It had tall but narrow windows with no shutters outside, but closed drapes inside. One window had a light behind it, though the others were dark. Zariel went up to the door and knocked lightly.
They heard movement inside and the door opened to reveal the face of a slightly built, middle-aged human woman with short, gray hair and gentle, blue eyes. Her features were sharp and cold, but her face blossomed into a warm smile when she saw her guest. "Zariel, come in," she said, opening the door wider to let them all in.
The living room they entered was cozy and bright, a comforting contrast to the cold, dark world outside. The air was warm and the fishy smell of the whale oil stove in the corner was partially covered up with the smell of coffee and cinnamon. A worn sofa dominated one wall, and a table littered with furs and cloth dominated another. Above the sofa hung an old battleaxe. At the far end was a small kitchen with a table and chairs. A man with close-cropped black hair, and full, rosy cheeks sat at the table, sipping from a steaming mug. He gave them a nod of greeting and a warm smile, though his eyes watched them carefully.
"These are your friends?" the woman asked as she closed the door behind the group.
"Yes. This is Pariah, Bjarnson and Eberic," Zariel replied, gesturing at each of them. Turning to the group, she added, "And this is Kithri."
"Pleased to meet you," she replied. "Can I offer anyone some coffee?'
There was a general shaking of heads, and Zariel said apologetically, "Forgive me, but we are headed for Easthaven and must leave soon."
"Lulu!" Kithri exclaimed as the asteri came out of Zariel's cloak to hover before her.
"Is it done? Is it done?" Lulu asked enthusiastically.
"Yes," the woman laughed. "I think you'll like it. Come this way."
She led Lulu to the table but stopped only long enough to pick up a pile of small articles of clothing. She continued towards the only door in the small house, which led to a bedroom. "We can have some privacy while you change," she explained to Lulu.
"OK," Lulu said. "But Zariel can come, right?"
"Certainly. Now, your wings were an interesting challenge..." She closed the door after Zariel, and they couldn't hear her anymore.
The rest of them stood there awkwardly, exchanging glances with the man at the table. Dejen walked over and said, "I'm Dejen," and held out a hand. "I didn't meet you when we were here last night."
He reached out to shake it. "Lonnor," he said.
"So what do you do around Bryn Shander?" He nodded towards the axe. "Are you a soldier?"
"In my youth, I was in the militia," he said. "Spent most of my life working the stables, though." Wistfully he said, "But then this damn winter came and the horses died."
"Died?" Dejen asked in shock. "Why?"
"They weren't built for this kind of weather. A little snow, no problem. But by the end of the first year, there wasn't any feed left. It's hard to grow anything other than the potatoes and mushrooms the dwarves manage to raise. The snow got too deep for them." He laid his mug on the table, gripping the handle tightly. "We finally had to just put them all down."
"I'm sorry," Dejen said clumsily, obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had turned.
"They converted the stables to a kennel." He shrugged. "Nothing against dogs, and they're better for this environment, but I miss my horses."
The man looked at the floor gloomily, and then shook himself out of his funk and looked up at his visitors. "Sorry," he grunted. "Didn't mean to get maudlin there. I still work at the same place, but I take care of dogs now." He smiled politely up at Dejen and asked, "What do you do? I don't think I've seen you around before."
"No, I'm new to Icewind Dale," he said. "I live in Tethyr. I work as a calligrapher and scribe."
Lonnor looked at him in confusion. "How does a calligrapher from Tethyr end up in Bryn Shander at a time like this?"
"Well, actually, I came here to study the Everlasting Rime." He laughed nervously. "The environment is a bit more difficult than I had imagined, but I'm hoping to find out more about what happened."
Lonnor made a disgusted noise. "It was those damn wizards, I know it. All this Auril nonsense is just lies spread by them to cover what they are really doing. There's some magical artifact in the mountains, and they brought endless winter to trap us so we can't get in their way. Once they find it, they are going to spread this winter all down the Sword Coast to make an empire. They'll enslave all of us. Hook us up to strange devices that will suck the magic from our bones until we are just zombies. I've heard about those zombies, wandering the wilderness, glowing with magic. They say the light blinds you and sucks out your soul." He shook his finger at the group. "Watch out for those zombies. Run if you see them."
Pariah was wondering why the zombies would glow with magic if the wizards had sucked out all their magic, but it was pretty clear this man wasn't the most reliable source of information.
However, Dejen had pulled out his quill and was writing in the air. "Really," he said in fascination. "Have you seen these zombies yourself?"
"Of course not. Nobody sees them and survives."
Eberic mumbled to Pariah, "Then how does anybody know about them?"
Pariah suppressed a smile. Bjarnson said quietly, "I've actually heard of the things he's talking about, glowing undead that walk the deep wilds. I've never seen one, but supposedly they started appearing a few months into the Rime."
Further conversation was interrupted when the door opened and Lulu flew out. "Look! Look!"
She was dressed in pants, cloak and hood made of fur and hide. It was hard to see much detail as she zipped around the room, but the clothes seemed to fit her perfectly and didn't interfere with her wings at all.
Bjarnson rubbed his thick beard contemplatively. "Rabbit fur?" he guessed.
"Mostly," Kithri responded. She and Zariel had joined the others in the main room. "A little mink fur in spots. Wool underneath. It should keep her warm."
Zariel watched Lulu with a contented smile. "Thank you so much. And for doing such fine work on short notice. We are both so grateful."
"Oh, it was my pleasure," the woman said. "I've never made something so interesting, and now I have a wonderful story of when I made a coat for an angel."
"We should go," Bjarnson said. "Especially if you still want to stop at the temple."
"Of course," Kithri said with a little disappointment. "Please come back if you need anything else, or if you have any problems with this outfit."
"We will," Zariel promised her.
They said their goodbyes, and both Lulu and Zariel thanked the woman again, while Bjarnson impatiently herded them back out into the street.
Notes:
The sweet stuff that looked like ground beef is a real thing called Alaskan ice cream or Inuit ice cream.
Dejen's crossbow antics are flavor for the fire bolt cantrip. Mechanically he requires only his focus, which is his quill. However, I will probably describe several of his spells as enchanted crossbow bolts.
As I said last chapter, they are all level 2 now. The links to their Level 2 character sheets on D&D Beyond are below. Feel free to skip all the homebrew discussion if you don't care.
Pariah Level 2 - Pariah is a Ranger but is using Warlock spells based on Charisma. There is no way to set that up so I had to use a custom feat to change her Spell Attack and Save DC, and to add the spells. The spells aren't tied to slots so I'll track of that manually. Note that she doesn't have a spell focus so can't actually cast anything requiring material components. Hmm, I wonder if I'm planning some clever story moment to deal with that?
Because of that, I wanted one spell without an M component. Hellish Rebuke is an old favorite, but is useless to this version of her. It has an S component, and she's a sword and board fighter. For an attack spell she could sheathe her weapon, but this is a reaction so she'll always have her hands full. I went for Arms of Hadar instead.
I later discovered that rangers, as well as the spellcasting subclasses like Arcane Trickster, can't use a focus as a substitute for material components, which seems...weird. They can use a component pouch that acts exactly the same, so what's the point of the limitation? Well, in my world, a ranger can use a focus.
Zariel Level 2 - She doesn't have any class-related homebrew so mostly it was just thinking about her fighting style and new spells.
Dejen Level 2 - He was a huge pain because he's very heavily homebrewed, using LaserLlama's Artificer as well as his Archivist specialization. He gets only three infusions (not four), and one of those is "Goggles of Clearvision", which I had to add through a feat. He didn't get spellcasting until now (RAW it would have been Level 1), and LaserLlama's Artificers are "known spells" rather than RAW "prepared spells", but also gives artificers a boost to the number of spells they know.
Bjarnson Level 2 - He's using LaserLlama's Circle of the Land, which adds the ability to attune to different environments after a long rest, and adds a couple of bonus spells prepared at Level 2. I added those through custom feats.
Eberic Level 2 - No homebrew at all, so super easy!
As a final note, apparently I've arrived! With my Avernus story, I knew I'd made it when I got hit by the kudos bot. On this one, I got one of those "this fic was written by an AI" comments. Or more like "ţĤïś ƒĩċ ŵăş ʷřīŧțȅñ ߟ ąņ ÅÏ" (well, not *quite* that bad), because nothing adds credibility to your bot spam like using non-traditional characters to avoid the filters.
Chapter 17: The Dead of Winter
Summary:
The group stops at the House of the Morninglord before leaving Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 22, 1496 (6 days after the New Moon)
Zariel led the way into the House of the Morninglord, and they all rushed in to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. Mishann was there standing behind the altar, dressed in her normal clothes rather than her ceremonial attire. "May the Morninglord's light bless you," she beamed at them as they came in.
One of the cream-colored cats was sitting in a corner licking his paws. Pariah's attention was mostly taken by the other figure in the chapel. It looked like a child's stuffed bear toy except for two things: it was about three feet tall, and it was sweeping the floor.
She wondered if it was some kind of magical construct, and then it raised its head to reveal a the reddish brown face of a gnome with amber eyes and a blond beard with a long mustache that drooped nearly to his chin. He glanced disinterestedly at the newcomers before going back to his sweeping. His fuzzy suit and hood weren't a style she hadn't seen before, though they looked warm.
Mishann said, "Everyone, this is Copper, my tenant and occasional helper."
He mumbled a greeting at them and went back to his sweeping. Mishann shot him a frown before turning back to the group. "Are you coming to the dawn service later today?"
Zariel said apologetically, "I'm afraid not. We are leaving town again shortly so we were hoping to get a quick service before we leave."
"Of course, of course. Give me a moment to put on my vestments."
As she hurried out of the chapel, the gnome had stopped his sweeping to study them. "Where are you traveling?" he asked in a nasal voice.
Zariel said, "To Easthaven."
"Oh," he said, visibly disappointed.
"Why?" she asked. "Are you looking for a group traveling somewhere special?"
Copper paused, pursing his lips in thought, and said, "No, it's nothing. And it's the wrong direction anyhow."
"What's the wrong direction?" she asked. When he hesitated again, she said with a nod towards the curtain the priest had disappeared behind, "We have a moment to fill anyhow."
He glanced at the curtain and then leaned on his broom. "Well, she thinks I'm just being a worrywart, and I guess I am, but I have a friend who lives in a cabin. He comes into town now and then for supplies. He would usually have come yesterday. He's a little absent-minded and probably just got lost in his work, but I was hoping someone could check in on him."
Zariel had pulled out her map. "Was this the friend that Mishann said was looking for a way to end the Everlasting Rime?"
"Yes," the gnome nodded, "though when I left he was stuck at a dead end going in circles, the obsessive fool."
"Left?" Zariel asked.
"I was his assistant on the project," he explained. "Macreadus is good with ideas; I'm good with my hands."
Dejen said excitedly, "Then you can tell us about the device he was working on."
Copper hesitated and then said, "Well, no not really. He just told me what to do. I forged the metal and inscribed the runes he drew for me, but I never really understood his ranting about the theory. All I know is it didn't work, wasn't going to work, but he wouldn't listen. I finally got sick of the cold and the food and his temper, so I left." His voice got louder and his eyes shone, "And if something happened to that stubborn idiot after I left then-" He broke off and composed himself. "Well, I just want to be sure that he's all right. He gets so fixated on his work that, without me there, he probably forgot it was time for supplies. Hells, he probably forgets to eat or sleep."
"Ah, yes, I've known a few like that," Dejen nodded. "Geniuses in their field, but can't manage to tie their shoes."
Copper gave him a sad smile. "Yeah, he's like that. He really needed a keeper. I tried to get him to move back to one of the towns, but the work is dangerous and he was afraid someone might get hurt."
"I'd love to talk to him about his theories," Dejen said.
Zariel had unrolled the map on the altar. "As would I. Can you show us where he is?"
Copper looked relieved. "I would be very grateful. His cabin is here, just northeast of Maer Dualdon."
"Oh," said Zariel in a heavy voice. "I see."
Curious at her tone, Pariah stepped over to look over her shoulder. The gnome was pointing at a spot near a lake north of town. They would be heading east. She didn't know the map's scale, but it was clear the cabin would be far out of their way. "How long is that trip from here?" she asked Copper. She added, "On foot that is."
"It took me a day to hike cross country to Termalaine, and then another day to get here."
Zariel stared at the map. Indecisively she said, "I really would like to speak with him." She turned to the others. "Perhaps our other business could wait while we detour here."
Eberic said firmly, "I'm going after the killer. The rest of you, do what you want."
Zariel turned to Pariah, saying, "Coming across such information in the Morninglord's temple seems like a clear sign of our next step."
Pariah grimaced. In her opinion, that was even more reason to ignore this information. "I agree with Eberic. Let's hunt the killer first."
Zariel was visibly disappointed by her response.
Dejen traced a finger over the map between Bryn Shander and the cabin. "I have to admit, I'd like to consult him as well. Eberic said the killer has probably already struck again, so we have a month before the next round of murders."
Bjarnson crossed his arms. "Dozens of people have had plans to end the Rime, and yet here we are. This murderer is a danger right now, and a problem that is going to be easier to solve."
Zariel was vacillating. Pariah said, "Once we deal with this killer, we can look into the Rime again. We'll go talk to this guy or whoever else you want to."
"Very well," Zariel said in disappointment.
Eberic added, "If we do, Marrit and I can put you up in Termalaine before you make the trek to his cabin."
"You wouldn't come with us?" Pariah asked in surprise, though admittedly the group hadn't been together very long and there wasn't any reason to believe they'd stick together after finding the murderer.
"Don't know," he grumbled. "I've been away from home for a few days. Getting a little old and tired for adventuring."
Zariel said, "We would appreciate the hospitality. And, Copper, I for one would be happy to check on your friend once our other business as done."
Lulu, Dejen and Pariah agreed; Bjarnson and Eberic said nothing.
Copper said sadly, "That should be fine. He keeps weeks of supplies on hand so it's not like he'll starve. Or maybe he went to Termalaine rather than traveling all the way here. Usually he makes the longer trip, though, since there is more to choose from here, especially if he needs tools and such."
Pariah could see the town of Termalaine was fairly close to the cabin. She looked at the road that led to Bryn Shander and thought she might see the problem. "Maybe he didn't come because he'd have to go through Targos. They had a pretty bad blizzard there."
"Oh, that's true," the gnome said contemplatively. "You're probably right."
Zariel studied the map. "Couldn't he have cut through here to avoid the storm?"
The road took a lengthy curve towards Targos before coming back to Bryn Shander. It did look like you could leave the road and make a short jaunt across the tundra to get to this town.
But the gnome shook his head. "No, the hills there are pretty steep. That's why the road curves like that. Someone on foot might try it, but it'd be tough to take his sled through."
Pariah said, "Would he send you a letter or something if he did that? Is there a letter service here?"
"Maybe," he said. "People sometimes carry letters and packages between towns. Torg's does sometimes, too, since they hit most of the towns twice a month." He shrugged and said with a little bitterness, "But I’m not sure he'd bother letting me know he's all right."
She had actually posed her question for another reason. "No priests of Denier up here?" she asked. After he shook his head, she asked, "Any way to get a letter to someplace like Baldur's Gate?" She hoped she wouldn't be in Icewind Dale for all that long but, if she was, then she'd like to update Rowan and the others on her situation.
Copper thought about that. "You might be able to get one of the supply ships at Revel's End to take one." He shrugged. "Not sure how reliable they are, though."
She remembered where Balimar had said Revel's End was, and it was twice as far as Copper's friend's cabin. It would take days to get up there. Well, that was a challenge to think about later. Maybe she'd finish her business here soon and not have to worry about it.
Mishann came in, dressed for her service. She saw them gathered around the map and came over to give Copper a pat on his shoulder. "I'm sure he's fine," she told him. "I'll pray for Amaunator to watch over him as part of the service today."
"Thanks," he grunted.
"Shall we get started?" she said to the others.
The service was fairly short, being a secondary ceremony. The full service was a longer one, but that was the one Mishann gave daily at the East Gate during the slight brightening of the sky that passed for dawn in Icewind Dale.
Afterwards, Zariel discussed her dream with the priest, but Mishann was able to offer no additional insight so they bundled up and headed outside towards the nearby gate. As they approached the gate area, which was brightly lit by torches, it was clear that something was going on. The gates were open just wide enough to allow the sheriff to stand in the gap. A half-dozen soldiers were arrayed behind him. Their weapons weren't drawn, but they were standing alert and there was tension in the air.
One of the guardsmen saw them approaching and put himself in their path, his hand raised. "One moment," he said. The sheriff is dealing with a situation."
"What situation?" Pariah asked.
The guard looked towards the gate and then back at them. "It will just be a moment. Please wait. If you like, you can go to one of the other gates."
Pariah turned to Bjarnson. "Should we wait?"
He let out an impatient sigh. "Let's see what this is about first."
The sheriff was saying, "...don't want you people making trouble in my town."
A voice responded from outside the gate. Although the wind wasn't blowing and the air was quiet, Pariah couldn't hear the other person's words from this far away.
"You don't make trouble until you do," Southwell said.
Pariah tried to get into position to see outside but couldn't see past the sheriff. He said through the gap in the gate, "Tell that to the sheriff in Easthaven."
She tried to walk forward, hoping to at least hear the words of the newcomer, but the guardsman put up a hand. "It will just be another moment," he said, his voice sterner than before.
The sheriff called out through the gate, "That sounds an awful lot like a threat."
The voice said something and the sheriff crossed his arms. He stood in the gap, glaring out, but finally let out a sigh and called up to the tower, "Open the gate."
He moved to the side, still watching through the gap as the gates creaked open. He waved for the guards to move, and they split to each side of the road. Pariah and her companions moved out of the road as well.
Two massive dire wolves came through the opening, pulling a sled behind them. Their shoulders came as high as the sheriff's head, and their chests were as broad as draft horses. Their thick, white fur was mottled with gray, and their eyes burned red as they surveyed the guards hungrily.
However their most notable feature was the fact they were obviously dead.
Their fur was patchy, revealing blue-gray flesh beneath. Their faces were gaunt. One was missing a chunk of his side, his ribs exposed to the frigid air. The stench of rotting flesh preceded them, causing the guards to grimace and step back.
Atop the sled harnessed to the wolves stood a sturdy, middle-aged human woman in expensive furs. These were not the hastily stitched together outerwear common to the area. These had been tailored to fit, and designed for fashion as well as comfort. Her hood was back, revealing that she had gray-white hair, a haughty expression, and a leather patch covering her right eye. A snowy owl perched on her left shoulder, surveying the group with a less predatory air than the wolves.
At the rear of the sled were two red-scaled kobolds. Like the wolves, they were reanimated corpses, though their bodies were in even worse shape. Large amounts of flesh had been burned away, possibly by acid, making them something halfway between skeletons and zombies. None of these undead creatures were glowing with the soul-sucking light that Lonnor had warned them about.
Following the lead sled were two more sleds, each also pulled by a pair of undead dire wolves, and each carrying a pair of kobolds, though these kobolds appeared to be still alive. The trailing sleds were loaded down with covered piles of cargo.
Pariah was still examining this procession making its way down the street when Zariel stepped out to plant herself in the lead sled's path. She drew her sword, and bellowed, "Stop!" Lulu flew out to stand on her shoulder.
The driver pulled on the reins to halt the wolves. Zariel was a tall woman, but the undead dire wolves glared down on her from above. They lowered their heads and the fur on the backs of their necks stood up as they growled deep in their throats. The sound had a strange ethereal echo that sent chills down Pariah's spine.
The woman in the sled looked down her nose at Zariel with an air of boredom. "May I help you?" she asked imperiously. She took off one of her white-furred mittens as she waited for an answer.
The scene was frozen. Zariel, the sheriff, the newcomer, the kobolds, the guards were all still. Zariel glared up at the other woman. Rather than answer her question, she yelled out, "Sheriff, are you truly going to let these abominations walk the streets?"
Sheriff Southwell pursed his lips as he looked at the procession. Without enthusiasm, he said, "Necromancy is not actually illegal here. As long as she keeps her creations under control, she can stay."
Pariah watched the situation with concern. She didn't want to leave Zariel out there alone; Lulu wouldn't be much backup. On the other hand, she didn't see any reason to get involved. If the undead were under control then they were no different than golems or other constructs. Dejen was looking confused. Eberic was looking bored. Bjarnson's face was like a storm cloud, though it wasn't clear if he was upset with the necromancer for bringing zombies into town, or Zariel for delaying their trip further.
Zariel said, "So you would let this vile necromancer enslave those who are dead?"
Pariah's brow furrowed. That was a perspective on necromancy she hadn't thought of. She was a big advocate of free will, and the idea that your body could be used after death without your permission bothered her.
The woman raised her eyebrows. "Enslaved? I assure you, I resurrected these poor creatures with their full permission." Over her shoulder she said, "Mukle, if you die, do you want me to raise you?"
One of the living kobolds on the second sled ducked his head. "Yes, Lady Vellynne."
"Kax, what about you?"
"Yes, Lady Vellynne," answered one of the other kobolds.
"You see?" she said smugly. Her bare hand reached into her coat to bring out a wand, which she held loosely. Her tone hardened as she said, "Now, please get out of my way." Pariah noticed the hand that held the wand was shaking, though it seemed like a natural tremor rather than fear.
Bjarnson walked out to stand next to Zariel. He planted his staff in the ground. "And what about the wolves? Did they give their permission as well?"
Vellynne gave him a condescending laugh. "They are just animals."
Pariah could feel the anger radiate off Bjarnson at that remark. "Talona's tits," she mumbled to herself as she drew her sword and shield, and stepped out to stand on the other side of Zariel. If this was going to happen, they might as well all be on the same side. She grimaced at the smell of death coming off the wolf in front of her.
"That's enough!" the sheriff snapped, walking around Vellynne's sled to face the group. "Clear the road or I'll arrest the bunch of you."
Incredulously, Zariel said, "You are going to take her side?"
"She's not breaking the law," he snapped. "You are. Now clear the way right now." He put his hand on the pommel of his sword. He signaled with his other hand, and the soldiers in the area moved to either side of the group.
This was not going their way. Pariah said, "Zariel, this is not a battle we want to fight." She didn't know if Dejen and Eberic would help. She had no idea how powerful this spellcaster was, but she guessed even one of these wolves would be a rough fight, much less six of them. And they certainly wouldn't fare well against the entire town guard.
Lulu said, "Zariel, she's right. Let's calm down."
There was a long pause, but Zariel finally sheathed her blade slowly, never taking her eyes off Vellynne. She held her position for a moment, but then reluctantly backed to the side. Pariah and Bjarnson joined her.
"Unbelievable," Zariel muttered. "Undead walking the streets. Human sacrifices. Temples destroyed." Slightly more loudly she said, "Corrupt law enforcement."
Sheriff Southwell had moved to the other side and was waving the line of sleds through. He didn't react to the remark, though it wasn't clear if he hadn't heard it or wasn't dignifying it with a response.
Zariel continued, "Truly this land has sunk into corruption in the absence of Lathander's blessing."
They all watched the line of sleds head down street away from them. Pariah looked over at the sheriff, who was watching the departing sled with a sour look. He was obviously no more happy than Zariel about the presence of this person and her party in Bryn Shander.
"Is she some local big shot?" Pariah asked him. "One of the town speakers or the wife of a duke or something?"
He turned a puzzled look on her. "No. Why?"
Pariah looked back down the street. The sleds were following a bend to the left that was taking them out of sight. "You don't like troublemakers in your town. I get the impression this place doesn't let in people they don't want to. I'm pretty sure that when we came in, the guard captain seriously considered leaving us out in the cold. They certainly asked us a lot of questions."
Southwell grunted in confirmation. "We have to be careful to keep the wrong kinds of people out."
"So, is she someone important?"
He frowned at her as he considered his answer. She figured he wasn't going to reply, but then he said, "Not to me. She's new to Icewind Dale. But she has a bunch of giant zombie wolves, and that implies she also has a lot of magic at her disposal. "
"Ah," Pariah nodded. "Sometimes you have to choose your battles."
Zariel snapped, "Nonsense! You can't let the forces of disorder and corruption win. You must stand against them at any cost. You say she has magic, well you have walls and soldiers. The only question is if you have the courage to stand against the horde."
Pariah winced. This was not the way to handle it. "This isn't..." she began.
Sheriff Southwell stepped forward to stand nose to nose with Zariel. She was a couple of inches taller, but that didn't intimidate him. "My job is to keep this town safe. Picking fights with wandering wizards is not the way to do that. If she behaves, then she can stay. If she doesn't, then I'll deal with it." He thumped his chest and repeated, "I will deal with it."
"But you're not dealing with it," she insisted. "You're letting criminals and necromancers walk the streets, killing innocents and destroying temples. It took him," she pointed to Eberic, "even to get close to the murderer who has been stalking Ten-Towns for months. Are you doing anything to keep order?"
Pariah again tried to intervene. More forcefully she said, "Zariel-"
"You outsiders," the sheriff roared, "dare to come into my town and tell me how to do my job? You come here from your warm lands and preach to us when we've been living in this for over two years. I keep order, but I also follow the law. I can't simply send anyone I want over to Revel's End. I may not want her here, but she has done nothing wrong I know about. I'm not sure I can say the same about your group!"
"Make a stand!" she demanded. "There is a higher law than the laws of your town. Take a group of your soldiers and tell her to leave. We will back you, but you must have the courage to oppose evil!"
"I will not risk my people in a hopeless fight against a powerful spellcaster who hasn't broken the law!"
Their voices were getting louder, and all of the soldiers were on the alert. Three more had come out from the gatehouse, and one had gone running off. Pariah guessed he was fetching reinforcements, and that wasn't because of the necromancer.
Pariah said, "Zariel, I really think-"
Zariel bellowed at the sheriff, "We must all be prepared to fight and die against the forces of chaos. Some of your soldiers may fall, but the evil will be purged from your lands."
Pariah's temper flared. She shouted at Zariel, "Haven't enough mortals died defending your principles? Do you really want to get more of them killed?"
Zariel turned a shocked and hurt expression towards her as a stunned silence settled over the group.
Pariah regretted her comment. Quickly she said, "That came out wrong. I just mean..." She rubbed her face. "I just mean, like I said, you have to choose your battles. This is not one of them."
Zariel's cheeks flushed. Lulu, on her shoulder, looked at her in concern. Zariel said hesitantly, her anger gone, "No. No, you are right. I was..." She trailed off and turned back to the sheriff. "Forgive me. I spoke out of turn." To the rest of the group, she said, "We should go." She hurried towards the gate.
Sheriff Southwell stared after her, bewildered by her sudden change in demeanor. Pariah said, "Yeah, we should go." She gestured to the others, who were equally nonplussed by what had just happened, and said, "Come on."
They all hurried after the tall, blonde warrior who was exiting the city gate.
Notes:
Vellynne isn't supposed to appear until much later in the module, but I wanted a glimpse of her early in the story. Her undead wolves are an idea from the Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion and allow her to travel faster and without need for rest compared to typical sled dogs.
I liked the harsh line Pariah blurted out. That wasn't planned, but this was a good opportunity to show that Zariel can still fall back on old behaviors.
I had been tracking expenses (rations, inn rooms, etc.) until this point but I stopped. It's a lot of work for a trivial amount of gold in the grand scheme of things.
I also had been looking for rules about butchering and skinning, since they will eventually meet wild animals. I found a couple of interesting systems, cobbled then together into my own...and then abandoned it before using it. It's the same reason. The income from meat and hides is trivial, and pretty much equals the cost of daily expenses. By ignoring both, they even out.
I'll still mention things like butchering animals in the story, but I don't track the money. I will do special harvesting from Hamund's Harvesting Handbook for a little extra gold and possibly materials for magic items.
Chapter 18: Lonesome Road
Summary:
After a disturbing encounter with a necromancer, the party leaves Bryn Shander on the road to the town of Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 22, 1496 (6 days after the New Moon)
They followed Zariel out through the city gate. The air was deadly still, which Pariah found a blessed relief from the wind that had blown ceaselessly since their arrival. They all used the wall for balance as they put on their snowshoes in preparation for the hike ahead.
Pariah made a point of moving up next to Zariel. The lack of wind made a quiet conversation possible, though Zariel's foot of extra height made it more difficult. Pariah beckoned her and Zariel bent down to bring their heads to the same level. The change in position caused Lulu to fly off her shoulder and settle on Pariah's instead, leaning forward to listen to the conversation.
"Sorry," Pariah said. "I shouldn't have said that."
Zariel looked at her somberly. "Your words were harsh, but not untrue." She fiddled with her ring. "I can't ignore my shortcomings. Yes, I am angry that such an evil is allowed to roam free. And, no matter the laws of the land, necromancy is a great affront to Lathander. When it comes to destroying undead, he is nearly as militant as I am." She grimaced and then corrected herself, "As I was."
She went back to strapping on her snowshoes. "Regardless, I must be careful not to fall into old behaviors. It is not my place to put others in harm's way, nor my place to dictate the laws of this town. Of course, should we encounter this necromancer in the wilds, then..." She trailed off and then sighed a cloud of misty air. "Then I suppose we let her pass because it is unlikely we could defeat her and her minions."
Pariah sympathized with her position, and appreciated that she did seem to be making genuine efforts to change. "Let's start with the small battles. Maybe we can work our way up to the big ones."
"I suppose," she said reluctantly. "It is not the first time I've had to stand by while the forces of corruption and disorder act. It is frustrating being stuck in this fragile, mortal body."
"You get used to it," Pariah said with a half grin.
They put on their snowshoes, pulled their scarves up around their mouths, and hung their goggles from their necks in case a storm blew in. That is except for Dejen, who continued to looked around him in wonder through his new eyewear. He lit his lantern -- he was still interested in possibly finding more chwingas -- and Zariel used her magic to give light to Bjarnson, though this time he asked her to put it on his quarterstaff rather than his lantern.
They headed down the road in a loose group; since the road was obvious, there wasn't any reason for Bjarnson to lead. The clear night was almost pleasant, if you ignored the cold, but after about a half mile, the road led into a bank of dense fog. Thick, white mist made it impossible to see beyond about ten paces. Their lights almost seemed to make it worse as the fog reflected the illumination back on them, but it was preferable to darkness.
"Let's be quiet," Bjarnson cautioned them. "The Eastway is patrolled, and is the safest stretch of road in Icewind Dale, but things still wander in looking for food or loot."
That was fine with Pariah, since the freezing air burned in her lungs and talking made that worse. They walked through the thick mist silently. Lulu flew around them a bit, enjoying her freedom now that she had her own cold weather clothing, but stayed close to the group. An ominous pall hung over them.
Pariah had seen snow, but never this much and she was struck at how it seemed to absorb sound. These conditions made her feel blind and deaf, and it was making her anxious. Their footsteps crunching in the snow was the only thing they could hear. She had a perverse urge to shout just to prove she was still there.
Despite the fog, the road was easy to follow. Although it wasn't completely cleared of snow, the snow level was a foot or so below the banks on either side. Bjarnson explained that the sled patrols dragged logs behind them that pushed a layer of snow to the side. The ground was several feet down, but this way the path was clearly visible in this fog or even in a blizzard. The snow was packed more firmly than the snow in the wilderness, and they were able to make better speed.
After a while, a breeze started to pick up, coming from behind them. It stirred up the snow a little bit but not much. The fog eventually faded. It might have been cleared by the wind, or the group might have traveled beyond the edge of the bank. Pariah breathed a sigh of relief now that they had better sightlines. Soon after, the horizon ahead and to the right glowed, and dim light spread across Icewind Dale.
Zariel said, "Can we stop for a moment?"
Bjarnson stopped walking and turned to her with a frown.
She added, "Just for a moment. I want to pray to the rising sun."
"Very well," he sighed.
As Zariel knelt in the snow and bowed her head, Pariah looked around, both for dangers and simply to take in the scenery. An evergreen forest stretched to their right. The trees stood tall and straight but seemed sickly. They were spindly and their needles were sparse. The edge of the forest was dotted with stumps where, Pariah guessed, trees had been cut down for fuel, but the forest beyond stretched out as far as she could see.
Dejen asked, "Is there some disease in the forest?"
Bjarnson looked over at the woods. "No. Plants need light." He nodded towards the horizon. "That's not enough for them. They can't make food so they are slowly starving in the darkness. Some say that Silvanus himself has intervened to keep the forests alive in this eternal night."
"I see. Would anyone mind if I went to examine the trees?"
Pariah didn't, but Bjarnson said, "We should keep moving. You can look once we reach Waycamp."
Dejen looked over at him, puzzled. "What is Waycamp?"
"After a few months, once folks realized the winter wasn't going to end, Bryn Shander and Easthaven built some shelters at the halfway point between the two towns. It's nothing fancy, just holes in the snow bank, but it's solid and warmer than huddling under your furs." To Dejen he said, "There are plenty of trees nearby you can examine once we set up camp there."
"Very well," he said.
Zariel finished her prayer and they resumed walking.
They continued towards the glow on the horizon ahead that silhouetted the distant Spine of the World mountains. The trees made their surroundings a little more interesting, and made it easier to pay attention. Despite being more alert, Pariah jumped when she heard the moan of a horn from behind them. She looked back to see a sled approaching on the right side of the road. One fur-clad person was sitting in the front and another stood behind him, lowering a horn from his lips. A team of four dogs were trotting through the snow.
Bjarnson said, "Move to the left."
They all did, moving up against the lip of the snow bank on the side of the road. As the sled approached, the two figures each raised a mitten-clad hand of greeting. She saw that both carried crossbows, currently pointed towards the floor of the vehicle. The dogs ran past the group, tearing up the snow, and then the sled whispered past as its runners cut a trail in the surface. It dragged a log behind it, angled to throw a spray of snow to the right of the sled and over the bank. Lanterns front and back shed light in a bright circle around them. At the rear, the sled flew a white flag emblazoned with a pair of black antlers above a stalk of wheat, the heraldry of Bryn Shander.
The sled wasn't moving all that fast, probably the same as a brisk walk on clear ground, but it was far faster than the group was managing. Pariah watched them with envy as they sped down the road. "How long is the trip in one of those?" she asked.
Bjarnson said, "If they were headed to Easthaven, they'd be moving faster than that and make it in about two hours. But that's a patrol. They're going slower to look for dangers, stranded travelers or other problems. They'll turn around at Waycamp. Another patrol comes out from Easthaven to cover the other half of the route."
Now that there was a little light, Lulu strayed further from the group as she flew around. Pariah wasn't sure if she was scouting the area or just bored. Eventually she came back and perched on Zariel's shoulder.
About an hour later, they saw a sled approaching from ahead, this one on the left side. The group moved to the right, walking single file along the edge as the vehicle approached. It looked to be the same pair, the Bryn Shander patrol returning to the town. They exchange the same silent raising of their hands in greeting before gliding past the group.
They continued walking down the road, mostly in silence, when Dejen said in awe, "What is that?"
He was staring up into the sky to their left. Pariah followed his gaze and saw a huge white shape in the sky. It was hard to judge scale, but it was clearly enormous. It soared through the air with gentle beats of its outstretched wings, the light of the low sun shining off the white scales of its body. The party stopped to look at the creature.
"Is that a dragon?" Dejen wondered aloud.
"Yes," Bjarnson confirmed. "That's old Arveiaturace. She's made her home at the top of the glacier for centuries."
Pariah had encountered a dragon only once before, a horrible monstrosity who had been corrupted by demon tortures. The encounter had lasted only moments, since the beast had other concerns at the time, but it had been terrifying. "Should we be worried?" she asked, hearing the anxiety in her voice.
Bjarnson shook his head. "No. She feeds on bigger prey like reindeer herds. She doesn't bother people if they don't bother her, and it doesn't look like she'll pass within a mile of us anyhow."
"She's beautiful," Dejen breathed. "I mean look at her. She's just magnificent!"
"She is," Bjarnson agreed.
Pariah could see their point, at least as long as the dragon stayed far away. "More of nature's calm rhythm?" Pariah teased him.
He turned to her. "Yes. Predators are part of nature as well. The hunt, the strike, the feed, even the scavengers cleaning up the leavings are all part of the cycle, and all beautiful in their own way."
She looked back at the dragon. "I suppose so," she said skeptically.
Zariel made a harrumph noise. The group looked at her but she simply said, "Shouldn't we keep moving?"
They started walking down the road again, all eyes on the distant dragon. Pariah shot Lulu a questioning look, gesturing at Zariel and shrugging, hoping the asteri would get the hint.
Lulu looked at her friend and then back to Pariah. "Tiamat the Dragon Queen is the god of the chromatic dragons like that one," Lulu thought at her. "Zariel and Tiamat have a complicated history. They were allies in Avernus but hated each other."
Pariah smirked. "Like all devils?"
Lulu grinned back. "Tiamat's not a devil, but I know what you mean. Zariel doesn't trust any of the chromatic dragons, since most of them serve Tiamat. They are all evil like the fiends, so it's probably good to be careful around them."
Pariah hadn't read about the evil dragons, but had heard of Tiamat. She remembered Farima mentioning that the dragon queen was trapped in Hell.
As they walked, Lulu telepathically told her some of the history between Zariel and Tiamat. The dragon had helped the archdevil keep Bel from gaining too much power, but Zariel had also been her prisoner for a time and had tried to kill her at least once. The story was hard to follow since Lulu tended to jump around a bit, but it passed the time.
The dragon had disappeared from sight and the glow on the horizon had moved behind them by the time they reached a point where the road sloped down into a hollow between snow banks before climbing up the other side. In the hollow, a dark hole led into the bank on the left and three led into the right side.
"This is Waycamp," Bjarnson announced. "It looks like nobody is here. We'll take the large shelter on the left, which will fit all of us."
He led them to the entrance, giving them a better look at the snow banks, which had been packed and smoothed. Pariah took off her glove and ran her fingers along the outer surface. The snow was dense and firm, which made her feel better about crawling inside a structure made of the stuff.
Bjarnson had crouched down to poke the glowing tip of his staff into the cave. "Wildlife sometimes shelters here," he explained, "but this looks clear." He crawled through the small hole and the others followed.
Pariah was surprised by how spacious and well-designed the interior was. It was tiered. By the door was a patch of bare ground a few feet across with a fire pit set at the far edge. This area was surrounded by a snow-packed, shin-high ledge about a stride across, which in turn was surrounded by a slightly higher ledge that was two to three strides across. The walls were made of ice that looked to be about a handspan thick, with packed snow behind. There was a hole in the ceiling above the fire pit and she could see the stars through it.
"This is amazing," gushed Dejen.
Pariah wondered, "How did they build those ice walls?"
Bjarnson had made his way to the top tier to drop his pack off. "Spellcasters from Bryn Shander and Easthaven did that. They can freeze sheets of water for a short time, but it was long enough for the cold temperatures to get hold and maintain the ice after the magic faded. It provides a firmer structure."
Dejen was standing over the fire pit, looking between it and the chimney above. "Won't a fire make everything melt?"
"No. Even with a fire, the inside won't get warm enough to melt the ice. It will still be a lot warmer than the outside, though. Now, I suggest that half of us go out to gather wood and look for forage. The rest stay here to set up the camp and keep watch. There's a sort of gentleman's agreement not to steal from Waycamp, but not everybody's a gentleman so it's best to watch your things. I planned to go forage."
Dejen said, "I wanted to look at the trees, so I'll come with you."
"I'll come too," Pariah said.
Zariel turned to the dwarf and said, "I guess Eberic, Lulu and I will stay here, then."
Everyone dropped their packs on the upper tier. Bjarnson said to Pariah, "Bring your bow in case we see game." She retrieved her longbow and quiver, and then the three of them bundled back up and crawled out into the road. Before they left, Lulu used her magic to cause a part of the ceiling to glow, bathing the shelter in warm light.
As Bjarnson led them back up the slope of the road, Pariah said, "If people stay here, is there going to be anything to forage?"
He replied, "I don't expect to find much, but you never know. It's always a good idea to look even if you have rations. Mostly we're here to get wood for the fire."
There were more stumps here than they'd seen before, presumably because of the search for wood by travelers, so they had to travel a ways to get to the nearest trees, and the sun's glow had faded to darkness by this time. Bjarnson and Pariah chopped while Dejen examined the trees and made notes in the air with his quill. They searched a bit for forage after that but found nothing. However, Dejen spotted a snow hare and Pariah was able to hit it with an arrow, so they returned to the shelter with fresh meat.
The others had taken laid out everyone's bed rolls on the upper tier, and gathered a pot full of snow for water. Bjarnson cleaned the rabbit while the others got the fire going and started the snow melting. Pariah helped him gather ingredients from everyone's rations and soon a rabbit stew was simmering over the fire while they all sipped on mugs of hot tea. The fire had warmed the shelter to the point that their winter clothing was loose and their hoods were down. It was still cold, but not the bitter freeze of the outside air.
Bjarnson ladled out portions of the stew to their waiting bowls. Pariah let out a satisfied noise as she tasted the first spoonful. "How is it the food out here is better than what we buy in town?" she said as she quickly went for another bite.
He grinned. "Fresher ingredients, first of all. Plus, I've been cooking all my own meals for a long time. I've gotten pretty good at it."
They ate mostly in silence as they all sated their hunger before settling down to more tea. The wind had kicked up outside, making this interior feel even cozier. They indulged in a little harmless small talk about nothing of importance.
During one lull, Eberic, who had been mostly quiet as usual, said abruptly, "Bjarnson. That's Reghed for 'son of the bear', right?"
The big redhead frowned into his bushy beard but didn't reply.
"You're the kid from Lonelywood, aren't you? The bear kid."
A confused silence descended on the group. Bjarnson didn't respond to the question, and Pariah could sense the emotional wall going up around him. Eventually Dejen, blind to the growing tension, asked, "What bear kid?"
The dwarf was still looking at Bjarnson. "Marrit and I heard the story when we moved to Termalaine. You were, what, eight or nine? But you survived. You survived in the wilderness. I mean it's possible for a child to survive in the wilderness, right?" His voice grew desperate. "The bear helped you survive, right?"
Bjarnson's stiff demeanor relaxed as Eberic's tone got more distressed. He let out a heavy sigh, his breath fogging before him. "I don't remember," he said. "I don't know what happened to me." He put a hand on Eberic's shoulder. "I wish I could say different, but I can't tell you that your boy's all right."
Eberic quickly turned angry as he shrugged of the other man's hand. "Fine," he grunted. "Going to sleep." He stomped his way to the upper tier, got into his bedroll, and put an arm over his eyes.
The group watched him in stunned silence, surprised by the outburst. Dejen again asked quietly, "What bear kid?"
Bjarnson's gaze lingered on the dwarf before he turned a hard gaze on Dejen. "You're an outsider so you don't know this, but nobody asks the people of Lonelywood about their pasts. It's where people go to start over."
"Oh," Dejen said in confusion and surprise. "Forgive me."
The other man snorted, but his face softened as he turned to stare into the fire. "The story goes that I wandered into Lonelywood almost twenty years ago, naked except for a wrapping of uncured yeti hide, and riding a polar bear. The bear dumped me off, turned away and walked back into the night. They say I collapsed. I was taken in by a man named Dibri Dhustan."
He stared into the fire for a bit before continuing. "I woke up a couple of days later, and that's the first thing I remember. I didn't remember my name, how I got out there, why there was a bear, or anything else. Dibri named me Bjarnson which, as Eberic said, means 'son of the bear'. They asked around about me but nobody knew who I was, so he raised me."
Dejen said, "You said you travel a lot around Icewind Dale. Have you ever found any more about your past."
"No," he said in a firm tone. "I think I'm going to turn in myself. Who's taking the first watch?"
As Zariel volunteered, Pariah studied Bjarnson with a slight frown. There was something wrong with his story, though she wasn't sure what. He was omitting or lying about something.
Or maybe it was late and she was tired and the environment was getting to her. She remembered getting paranoid in Avernus, and even here she'd already had intrusive thoughts about the motives of her companions. There was no reason to let these strange ideas get out of control. Besides, his comment about people going to Lonelywood to start over struck a chord in her.
She said, "Sleep seems like a good idea," as she climbed to her feet and headed to her own bedroll. She slid into the furs and waited for her body to warm the space, her mind still chewing on what both Eberic and Bjarnson had said. She was surprised by how quickly and deeply sleep took her.
At least until she woke to Dejen shrieking, "Monster!"
Notes:
Waycamp is my own creation. It seemed logical to have a permanent site for walkers on the most traveled road in Icewind Dale. I read more about the structure of igloos to get an idea of what the inside would look like. I was impressed by things like the tiered structure, which lets the cold air sink to the lower level, leaving the upper sleeping area warmer.
I can't remember if the Eastway patrols come from the module or from the Rise of the Frostmaiden Companion third-party supplement.
Chapter 19: Winter's Fury
Summary:
The group is woken abruptly as they shelter at Waycamp, located between Bryn Shander and Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 23, 1496 (7 days after the New Moon)
The sound of Dejen's scream still echoed in Pariah's mind as she was pulled out of sleep. The snow shelter was lit by the low fire, and the wind roared outside. She hesitated, unsure if the cry had been a dream or not, but then she saw Bjarnson roll to his feet, staff in hand, and run towards the low entrance. Lulu was close behind, and the others were stirring.
Pariah snatched up her saber and shield, and then stood to charge after them, still unsure what was happening. She threw herself down to crawl clumsily out of the shelter. Her fur cloak wasn't closed tightly and the wind whipped it around her as she quickly regained her feet. Lulu had lit herself up and was hovering overhead, dimly illuminating the scene. In the road was a large creature that, at first, she thought was a polar bear but it had the wide eyes and sharp beak of an owl, and the forward half of its body was covered in white feathers rather than fur. It was standing over Dejen, who was lying on his back, frantically trying to crabwalk away from the creature.
She charged forward, yelling to attract the creature's attention. It turned towards her and roared a challenge, a throaty scream like the shriek of a wild cat. She roared back as she brought her shield up, but it was faster than she expected. It bit at her and the sharp tip of its beak tore into the leather over her right bicep cutting a painful gash.
Zariel came up beside her, her drawn longsword glowing with a dim, blue-white light, as Dejen continued to scurry back out of Pariah's sight. A shard of ice shot between the two women to glance off the creature's shoulder, causing it to roar again and slash at Pariah with its claw. She caught the blow on her shield, but the force of the strike knocked her back a step.
A voice just beyond her hearing swept past her towards the owlbear, as though someone whispering very quickly flew by. The creature recoiled in confusion from the invisible attack, and Pariah used its hesitation to strike. Feathers flew as her saber slashed across its chest, though she didn't think she had managed to cut down to flesh. An arrow came from behind her and glanced off its side.
The owlbear reared up and brought both of its front claws down towards her. She caught one on her shield. Zariel tried to intercept the other, but it skidded off her shield and raked across Pariah's abdomen. The blow knocked the breath out of her and brought her to her knees.
Zariel moved to put herself between Pariah and the beast. It quickly turned on her, grabbing her shoulder with its beak. She wrenched her shoulder away and the beak slipped off the chainmail. She slashed with her sword but didn't have the right angle to penetrate its thick layer of feathers. Pariah's head was swimming but then she felt a refreshing energy flow into her. She struggled back to her feet and again approached the creature, leading with her shield.
She was feeling the two wounds she'd taken. The beast seemed to have forgotten her and was focused on Zariel, but Pariah advanced, trying to split its attention between them. A streak of flame burned into its shoulder and it reared back, startled by the fire. Zariel lunged, this time scoring a deep wound, and a blast of radiant energy from her weapon caused the owlbear to howl in pain.
The creature had finally had enough. It turned and started to lumber away down the road. Pariah and Zariel gave chase but, even wounded, it was faster then they were and it started to pull away. Her longbow was still back in the shelter and this beast would be long gone before she could retrieve it.
She heard the thunder of hooves behind her and whirled to see a reindeer galloping down the road. At first she thought it was another attack, but the animal had eyes only for the fleeing owlbear. The enemy creature was fast, but the reindeer quickly closed the gap, lowering his head to ram the beast with his antlers. The owlbear stumbled and fell. The reindeer reared up to bring his front hooves down on the owlbear's head, and the big creature stopped moving.
Pariah and Zariel came to a halt, eyeing the reindeer suspiciously. It stood on its hind legs and its form started to shift. Its antlers retracted, its thin limbs filled out, and its short fur started to grow. The pelt transformed into a cloak, and its muzzle retreated until it turned into the face of Bjarnson, who knelt down to check on the beast. Its eyes were open and unfocused, not blinking against the blowing snow.
Pariah let herself relax. "Nice trick," she said, suppressing a groan from the pain of her injuries.
They gathered around the dead animal. Zariel was scanning their surroundings. "Could there be another one nearby?"
Bjarnson was examining the owlbear's body. "Not likely. They are lone hunters."
"Lucky for us," Pariah said.
Zariel said, "We should get back inside. Should we move the carcass away from the shelter?"
"Out in the wilderness, we normally would. However, here at Waycamp, the next patrol will take the remains back to town. No reason to let the meat go to waste. With that in mind, I'd like to do a quick field dressing to harvest what I can from it."
The wind suddenly started to pick up. Bjarnson stood, looking up at the dark sky with concern. "I better work fast. Feels like another storm blowing in."
Zariel said, "Eberic, why don't you help him? Dejen and Pariah, come back to the shelter so Lulu and I can tend to your wounds."
Bjarnson accompanied them back to the shelter, since he needed his butchering tools, and then he and Eberic headed back out. Meanwhile, Pariah and Dejen stripped out of their armor so that Zariel and Lulu could look at their injuries.
As they worked, Pariah asked Dejen, "So what happened out there?" She would have expected someone on watch to stay inside the relatively warm shelter.
He was staring at her body. She wasn't naked, but a lot more of her burn scars were exposed than he had seen before. He said in a distracted tone, "I wanted to take another look at the forest. I'm intrigued that the trees are still alive after two years of effectively no sunlight. I gathered some more data and, when I came back, the owlbear was coming down the road in the other direction. I froze, hoping it would ignore me, but it attacked immediately."
She was annoyed at his impolite stare, but he was hardly the first person to do so. She'd mostly gotten used to it. She said, "It's a little late to say this, but none of us should be going off alone." She looked towards the entrance. "In fact, I'm a little worried about Bjarnson and Eberic being out there without cover."
Zariel also glanced towards the opening. "We should be able to hear them if they yell for help."
Pariah looked down at her unarmored torso and said. "I'm not really dressed for another fight."
It didn't take Zariel and Lulu long to work their healing. As Pariah went to get dressed again, she stopped to frown at her leather short-sleeved coat. There was a small puncture in one arm from the owlbear's beak and a large tear across the front that corresponded to a wound along her belly. She also hadn't repaired the tear from the giant spider attack several days before. Things kept coming up.
Dejen followed her gaze and said, "Oh, I can fix that if you like."
"You know leathercraft?" she said.
"Well, no, but I know mending magic. May I?" He reached out.
She handed over the armor piece and he laid it out on the ground. He pulled out his wooden quill as he bent over it. He scribed symbols along the tear in the front as he mumbled to himself. The symbols faded as though they were soaking into the material, and the slash healed itself leaving behind a slightly paler scar in the leather. He did the same with the arm puncture, and then turned to her leggings, which she was still wearing. She opened her mouth to say something but he was already bent over her leg, writing on her thigh. Pariah felt uncomfortable but it was over quickly and, when it was done, the rents were all repaired.
"Thanks," she said, still feeling awkward over having a strange man write on her leg. Wanting a change in subject, she asked Zariel, "Did you hear a strange voice go by us? It was like whispered words."
It was Dejen who answered. "That was me," he said. He held up his quill. "I've been experimenting with ways to impart the information stored in this artificial mind to others. Unfortunately, I can only release the information all at once, which overwhelms the mind of the recipient. While not useful in research, it does seem to be an effective weapon of sorts."
"I see," she said, remembering Levistus doing something like that to her once. "I imagine it leaves quite a headache."
"That's what people have told me," he replied.
The other two came back shortly after that. They hadn't been gone long, but had been time enough for the weather to turn bad. The wind was screaming outside as Bjarnson crawled in behind Eberic, dragging an owlbear pelt wrapped around quickly butchered cuts of meat. He said, "The rest of you might as well get back to sleep, if you can. I'm going to stay up and finish preparing the meat for transport. We'll wait out the storm, and if it doesn't clear up in a few hours, then we'll go ahead and chance the rest of the trip to Easthaven. As long as we stick to the road, we should be fine, it'll just be slow going."
The others headed towards their bedrolls, but Pariah was still feeling restless. She said, "I'll help you, I think. I'm not ready to go back to sleep yet."
First they stacked the backpacks against the opening to keep out the weather, which had turned into a full blizzard. Then they turned to the pelt and the meat. The pelt had been raggedly cut since he had been in a hurry. He showed her how to scrape and trim it for better preservation. They should be at Easthaven the next day, so spoiling shouldn’t be a problem, and the furrier would handle the actual curing, but it was still best to do as much work as possible to get the best price. He had also plucked as many of the feathers as he could from the carcass. Pariah was surprised by how soft they were, and he said they made for great pillows.
As for the meat, she knew basic butchering, but he showed her some more advanced techniques that preserved the best cuts of the meat and most of the fat. It was the first time she had worked on a creature larger than a single meal, so she wasn't used to sectioning the meat into cuts. He had made a point of recovering the liver, since owlbear liver was a component in a number of medicines. He stored the wrapped meat by the door, in the lowest part of the shelter because that's where the air was the coldest.
He told her about the snowy owlbears of Icewind Dale. They were solitary hunters, ferocious, stubborn and dangerous, even more so when they were hungry. Occasionally the Reghed nomads managed to tame them to guard their camps, but there was always the risk the beast would turn on its handlers.
Pariah said, "I was impressed before when I saw you talk to animals; I had no idea you could actually turn into one. Can you turn into an owlbear?"
He shook his head as he cut up chunks of owlbear meat to put into the stew pot. "No. I can turn into a few things -- foxes, hares, reindeer -- but I haven't managed even a small bear yet."
She chuckled. "You say that so casually." Lowering the pitch of her voice, she growled, "Yeah, I can turn into a fox, but not a bear." Speaking normally, she said, "You do know that turning into an animal is pretty impressive, at least where I'm from."
He looked up to grin at her. "I suppose it is. I don't really think about it that way. It's just one of the gifts I get from being one with nature."
"Maybe I should meditate in the great outdoors." She looked towards the sealed entrance where the muffled screams of the blizzard could be heard. "Well, not right at this moment. Do you think the storm will break soon?"
"Probably. The bad storms don't last too long. Even Auril gets tired of screaming all the time. It'll settle down and we'll make it to Easthaven pretty quickly."
The fire was starting to get low, so she put another piece of wood on it. "You think Auril's behind this Everlasting Rime then? I've heard other theories."
He stopped his chopping and looked thoughtful. "I don't know," he admitted. "Whatever's happening feels wrong. I'm not happy with what the crazy cultists are doing, but winter's fury is part of nature, and that means she is as well." He shook his head. "But this feels twisted, more than just the normal chaos of a storm, worse than the dangerous seas raised by Umberlee or the savage animals controlled by Malar. There is something...wrong about it."
"Maybe she's gone crazy," Pariah suggested.
He gave her a puzzled look, as though not sure if she was serious or not. "Do gods go crazy?"
"Sure," she shrugged. "The immortals are just as stupid and flawed and ridiculous as the rest of us."
His puzzled look deepened. "And you'd know a lot about that, would you?" he asked with an unexpected intensity.
She was surprised by his tone. "Uh, no more than anyone else."
His response was a skeptical grunt.
She cocked her head. "Am I missing something in this conversation?" she asked.
Bjarnson's mouth twisted into a frown behind his bushy, red beard. He didn't seem hostile; she wasn't sure what emotion she was getting from him. Finally he said, "You said something strange when we left Bryn Shander." He looked over towards Zariel's sleeping form. Lulu was over there, sitting by her head and it looked like she was talking quietly so maybe Zariel wasn't asleep after all.
He leaned over and said softly, "You said mortals had died for her, or something like that. It was just a strange thing to say. Mortals." He pierced Pariah with a stare.
She tried to remember her exact words in the heat of the moment. Had she really said 'mortals'? She forced what she hoped was a casual laugh. "Did I? I guess I was just being dramatic." Putting a trace of sarcasm into her voice she said, "Are you asking if me and Zariel are some kind of immortals walking among you?"
He continued to watch her and then he relaxed. With a chuckle of embarrassment, he said, "Well, it sounds kind of stupid when you say it out loud, doesn't it?"
"A little," she said, relieved that he seemed to be letting go of the idea. "But to be fair, that was a weird thing for me to say."
He looked back at her and said, "I've made a point earlier that it's rude to ask about people's pasts. So I won't ask." But he continued to stare, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.
She tried to adopt a casual air as she said dismissively, "Oh, it's nothing much. Something that happened before I met her. She used to be a military commander. Made some bad decisions in the heat of the battle. And it was pretty rude of me to throw it in her face like that, because she regrets what happened and doesn't like to talk about it."
Bjarnson looked like he might want more information, so Pariah said, "Well, I think I'm going to try to get another hour or so of sleep before morning," as she got to her feet.
The comment felt forced, and she wondered if she had just made him more suspicious, but he just said, "All right. Sleep well," and turned back to his stew.
As she headed for her bedroll, his back was to her. She caught Lulu's eye. She motioned for the asteri to stay where she was, but pointed to her head and then to Lulu.
"What is it?" came Lulu's voice in her head.
"Did you hear what we were just talking about?"
Lulu looked over at Bjarnson and then back to her. "No. Why?"
"I may have said something stupid." She told Lulu the gist of what she had said to Bjarnson.
Lulu said slowly, ”Well, that's not a lie, exactly."
"That's what I thought. Just let Zariel know, in case he ends up asking about it. She should probably just say she doesn't want to talk about it rather than trying to make up a story, like where she served, or what battle it was or anything like that. It keeps her from getting caught in a lie."
"OK, I'll tell her."
Pariah settled in under her blanket, making sure that her sword and shield were close. It seemed unlikely anything would attack during the storm, but the carcass might attract something. She didn't really expect to fall back asleep, but was surprised when she woke up a short time later to the smell of owlbear stew making her mouth water.
Zariel and Eberic were already sitting by the fire eating. Dejen was sitting up, having obviously just woken up himself. The storm had passed and only the faint sound of wind came from outside the shelter.
Pariah and Dejen joined the others. The stew was delicious, as all of Bjarnson's meals tended to be. The meat tasted kind of like beef, though tougher and gamier. The meal, along with a potato roll and coffee, was filling and a satisfying way to start their day.
They got moving quickly, all impatient to get to town. Zariel and Bjarnson split the weight of the owlbear meat between them, and Bjarnson also carried the pelt. Outside, the owlbear corpse was partially covered with snow in the darkness of the morning, but it was still clearly visible in the road. Bjarnson again assured them that the next patrol would take it. There would probably be one there soon, now that the storm was over.
The air was still and clear, and the sky was full of stars with only a few clouds. Pariah shook her head at how quickly the weather had changed, but figured she'd enjoy it while she could. She shifted her pack to a slightly more comfortable position, and they started down the road towards Easthaven.
Notes:
This was a snowy owlbear, a creature unique to the module, though it's just an owlbear with a swim speed. The battle wasn't too bad, and the owlbear definitely suffered from the action economy as lone enemies typically do. As I mentioned a couple of chapters ago, the meat and hides is just for story and won't generate money, but there are also items from Hamund's Harvesting Handbook and can be sold.
I'm not going to use the Lingering Injury system from my last story. I might add injuries as narrative flourish but they won't have mechanical aspects like they did before.
The rest of these notes are musings on Long Rest and can be skipped by anyone who doesn't care about the mechanics.
As many people know, the Long Rest mechanic is kind of broken. It's tied to the Adventuring Day, and designed for 4-6 Medium encounters between rests. That's fine for a dungeon crawl but not for wilderness adventure. Gritty Realism is fine for the wilderness, but not for the dungeon. Tying resource management to time doesn't work unless the rate of encounters is always the same regardless of environment. This module has both wilderness and dungeons, so neither system is ideal.
This was a problem in my last story. It was fine in the early stages because there were plenty of encounters, but once they got down to Avernus, they were always fully rested in every fight. It's not as simple as having more enemies or stronger enemies. 5e resource management really depends on multiple fights, especially at higher levels.
I'm experimenting with a homebrew mechanic that would probably be a nightmare in a real game. I'm tying Long Rest regeneration to how much of an Adventuring Day they have had. An Adventuring Day for five 2nd-level characters should be 3000 xp. The owlbear was 700 xp, which is 23% of an adventuring day, so each Long Rest will restore only 23% of their resources. As they have more encounters, that % will climb until it hits 100% (and they get full regeneration from their next rest) or until they manage to get fully rested. At that point, it resets to 0% and they start accumulating again.
That explanation is probably confusing, and the reality is more complicated than that, but that's the gist of it. This is going to force them to be more careful about their resources. For example, in this combat I had them avoid blowing all their spells because, just like them, I didn't know if there would be more encounters before they reached Easthaven.
Chapter 20: Ghost Story
Summary:
The party continues their trip to Easthaven, hoping to reach the town by midday.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 23, 1496 (7 days after the New Moon)
The weather stayed good, at least by Icewind Dale standards, as they traveled towards Easthaven. The wind picked up a little, but the environment seemed to have exhausted its energy into the earlier storm. A pair of patrol sleds came down the road from Easthaven about an hour after they started. The sleds looked similar to the patrol they'd seen before, each bearing a pair of fur-clad, crossbow-wielding figures that waved a silent greeting at them. Like the Bryn Shander sleds, flags fluttered behind them, though these bore a different heraldry. The top half was gray and the bottom was split, brown on the left and blue on the right. In the center was a white tower, and above that a large snowflake. The style of the snowflake was different than the one worn by the Aurilites in Bryn Shander, so Pariah wasn't sure if it was meant to represent her or not.
The sleds passed the group of pedestrians on the left, and then returned a short time later, a horn blast warning the travelers to move to the side so they wouldn't be sprayed by the snow.
The travelers were passed by another sled shortly after dawn, much larger than the patrol sleds had been. This one came up behind them with no warning other than a shouted "Coming up!" moments before it sped past. It had a team of eight dogs pulling it, and it moved much faster than the patrol sled had. It had one driver and was loaded down with wrapped bundles and wooden barrels. A second sled came after bearing three figures.
"Merchants?" Pariah guessed.
Bjarnson said, "Probably whale hunters rather than general merchants. They run oil, meat, and bone to the towns. Most sell in Targos or Termalaine since they're close, but the ones that make the run to Bryn Shander or Easthaven can charge more."
"Just those four?" she asked in surprise. "What about the other towns?"
"They go to the bigger towns to buy. There are a few traders that make occasional runs to the smaller settlements, but it's rarely worth the trip."
"What about Dwarven Valley? They aren't considered part of Ten-Towns, right? How big are they?"
They continued in silence for a bit and then he said, "A couple hundred I think. I've never been there. And, yes, Ten-Towns trades with them, but not the whale merchants. It's odd. The dwarves don't like whale meat, don't like natural construction materials like bone, and don't heat their mines with whale oil."
"Oh? What do they use for heat?"
He turned to her as they walked. "Nobody knows. They won't tell anyone. Supposedly, even most of the dwarves don't know. Some people think they have a seam of coal in there. Some think they dug a hole down to some underground lava pit. Some think they made a deal with the Nine Hells to provide heat."
Between the dim light, his hood and his scarf, she couldn't see his expression so wasn't sure if he was pulling her leg or not. With nothing else to contribute, she said, "I'm not sure there's enough fire in the Nine Hells to warm this place up."
That got a boisterous laugh from him, and they continued their trek.
Knowing they were getting close, they pushed on rather than resting. About an hour after dawn, the group came around a rise and saw a collection of buildings in the distance that was the town of Easthaven. It looked about half the size of Bryn Shander, and wasn't walled. A light haze hung over the settlement, presumably from the lines of smoke that rose from scattered chimneys. The town mostly hugged the coast of a frozen lake on their left and then spread out, buildings becoming scarcer farther away from the lake. It stretched to the edge of what used to be a forest. Now it was just a field of stumps.
There was actually water on both sides of them. About a quarter mile to the left was one shore of the lake, and beyond that was a flat sheet of snow-covered ice that stretched off to the horizon. To the right, a bit further off, the line of a river snaked across the land. From this distance Pariah couldn't tell if the waters were flowing or frozen, though she suspected the latter.
She was tired and cold, but the sight of their destination energized her. They all picked up their lagging pace, dreaming of a hot fire and warm mead. Just before the first buildings, a weathered, wooden sign proclaimed the name of the town in large letters. Below that was written, "What Icewind Dale was, and can be again!" Below that in small letters was the warning, "Watch your pouch." At the bottom of the sign was the same heraldry she'd seen on the sled flag: a white tower against a two-tone background, with a large snowflake above it.
On the other side of the road, two soldiers -- one short, one tall -- were leaning over a fire. Spears and crossbows were leaned against the wall behind them. They looked up at the approaching travelers and drew back their hoods. The taller one was a male human with chestnut hair cut unevenly. The other was a female gnome who had sunken cheeks, short black hair, and spectacles that were fogged slightly along the bottom half.
"Welcome to Easthaven," the man called out with a friendly wave.
Zariel lowered her own hood. "Thank you," she replied. "May I ask where there is to stay in town?"
"Of course." He turned and pointed down the main road. "If you take the first wide road to the left, it will take you to Shoreside. Follow that to the White Lady Inn. Warm, comfortable rooms, and a local bard who tells wonderfully chilling stories about the inn's namesake, the ghost who walks Lac Dinneshire. You have plenty of time to get settled in before the execution."
That comment got a confused silence from the group. Zariel asked, "Execution?"
"Yes," he confirmed. He then added hesitantly, "Isn't that why you've come?"
"No, we are just travelers." Her voice hardened as she said, "I thought this town made its sacrifices at the New Moon."
"Oh, we do," he said with a cheerful smile. "This is something different. One of those Luskan wizards is going to be burned at the stake in front of the Town Hall just after sundown. You should come by and see the spectacle!" He said it with the same enthusiasm that he might have told them about a local fair.
"I see," she replied in a carefully neutral voice. "And his crime?"
"He murdered a group of adventurers who have helped the people of Ten-Towns many times since the Everlasting Rime began. People from many of the towns are coming to see justice done."
The group was silent as they digested this information. Bjarnson said, "Any merchants left in town? We met an owlbear on the way here and have hide and meat to sell."
The man looked up at the sky thoughtfully and said, "Skin and Bones will take all of that. Give you a fair price. Head down the main road to the town hall, turn right, and they are at the edge of town."
As Bjarnson nodded his thanks, Pariah gestured towards the sign and asked, "Lots of pickpockets here?"
The guards both looked at the sign and then back at her. The gnome woman said, "Well, yes, we are quite famous for it! This town was founded by thieves and, in honor to them, picking pockets has always been legal within the town limits. So watch your pouch, and don't come running to us if it gets taken." She winked at Pariah and said, "If you try your hand at it, don't be surprised if your victim takes a swing at you! Just because it's legal doesn't mean people like it."
Pariah wasn't planning to do so, but that didn't mean she wouldn't keep an eye out for a prime target. More importantly, she vowed to stay aware of her surroundings.
Eberic asked the man, "Has the Coldheart Murderer struck again?"
The guard's mood flagged slightly. "It does appear that a man was murdered last night, and the signs do seem similar to the other murders you mention, but I wouldn't know about that."
The gnome woman added, "You might want to talk to Captain Arlaggath if you want to know more. You can find her at the barracks on the east side of town."
Eberic's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He grunted a response and then joined the rest of them on the road.
The cobbles of the main road had been swept clean, and snow was piled high on each side. A wide lane of packed dirt branched off to the right, leading to a corral containing a number of sleds and dogs. She saw a worker leading a huge, flightless bird into a large building on the far side of the corral. The bird was outfitted with a saddle and bridle.
The houses were tightly shuttered and, though some of them were dark, most had light leaking out. Oil lamps on poles lined the street, but Pariah could also smell wood smoke in the air. A few people walked the road or sat out in front of their houses, sipping from steaming mugs and chatting in groups. Many of them had their hoods back, and they all smiled and waved at the newcomers.
Pariah said, "They seem friendlier than Bryn Shander."
Bjarnson grunted. In a quiet voice he said, "Each town has dealt with the Rime differently. The people here just act like it isn't happening, or it's going to be over soon."
Pariah scanned the houses and people, looking for religious symbols, especially the six-pointed snowflake of Auril. "I assume there are a lot of Aurilites here," she guessed.
"You'd think so, but no. A few, of course, and their numbers are growing, but there don't seem to be too many."
She turned to give him a puzzled look. "But they have Auril's symbol on their town sign."
"Oh, that," he nodded in understanding. "No, their use of the snowflake goes back to the founding of the town a couple hundred years ago, while Auril's cults are only about a decade old." He shrugged. "Just coincidence as near as I can tell."
That surprised her even more. "Auril's worship is that recent?"
"Well, there's always been a tradition of offerings, especially among travelers and hunters. I may not be happy with what's going on in Icewind Dale right now, but I still spill a little blood in the snow from my hunting kills hoping that will keep her off my back. But formalized worship, that started about ten years ago during the Sundering. There were a lot of storms and beast attacks, worse than what we have now. Some merchant from one of the western towns said they were the wrath of Auril and we should start bowing down. Some followed him. And there were stories of someone they called the Ice Witch who was seen guiding the attacks, but who couldn't be killed and would disappear into the snowstorms." He shrugged. "And then the storms stopped, the animals calmed down, and the stories of the Ice Witch stopped. Things weren't quite back to normal -- the land was wilder than it had been before -- but Icewind Dale was reasonably safe again. At least until the Rime began."
Dejen piped up, "If it happened ten years ago, then the Ice Witch was probably Auril's Chosen. During the Sundering, many of the gods used mortals called Chosen as agents in this world. Not a lot is known about the activities of the lesser gods, like Auril, during this time. Most people focused on the schemes of the major gods."
"Like Bhaal," Pariah said. "I was a kid when his Chosen drove everyone insane at the Feast of the Moon in Baldur's Gate." At the time, she hadn't known about Bhaal's connection or what the Sundering was, just that a bunch of rich people in the Upper City had started to murder each other in the streets. However, her studies at Candlekeep had filled in the details since then. Yet another case of regular people suffering at the hands of immortals.
"Exactly," Dejen said, warming to his subject. He started on a lecture about the Sundering and the actions of the Chosen all along the Sword Coast, which she didn't listen to very closely.
The first major road to the left was also cleared of snow, though this one was packed dirt rather than cobblestones. It was obviously where they need to turn because they could see that it ended at the lake about a quarter mile ahead. They followed it to another road that traced the edge of the lake to their left and their right.
The lake ice stretched out in front of them as far as they could see. The wind was picking up a little and it blew flurries of snow that danced across the surface, occasionally rising into small whirlwinds that faded quickly. Several piers stretched out into the water. The smaller ones seemed to belong to the nearby houses, but there were also longer docks that looked like they could hold a half dozen medium-sized fishing boats.
What was missing were the boats themselves.
There were a few craft moored at the piers, but they were all locked in the frozen surface of the lake. Some had actually splintered from the force of the ice. Other boats, mostly the smaller ones, had been pulled up onto the shore to protect them from the freeze. The ice looked thick and it was hard to imagine that much sailing went on anymore.
One large boat at the end of a long pier stood out. A sign at the entrance to the pier read, "Easthaven Ferry". A plank had been nailed to the bottom of the sign, bearing the hastily scrawled message, "Closd til further notis". The ferry boat was securely trapped in the ice pack, though the hull didn't look damaged from this distance. Two ropes moored it to the dock; both ropes hung at a stiff angle, and thick icicles hung from them.
The buildings along the shore were constructed of gray stone with steeply pitched roofs shingled in darker gray slate. In addition to the snow that was blown up against their foundations, they all had spears of ice hanging from the eaves and windowsills. One single-story structure had a sign out front that showed a decently crafted painting of a ghostly woman drifting across the water. Below that were the words "The White Lady Inn".
The heavy door opened with the lackluster clank of a bent bell. Inside was a dimly lit but warm space that smelled of wood smoke rather than the whale oil that had been common in Bryn Shander. To the right, a hallway led deeper into the building. The left opened into an open area with tables and chairs. In front of them was a narrow counter, behind which an old man with a hooked nose and disheveled white hair looked up at them with a sour expression.
"Welcome to the White Lady," he said in a bored, unwelcoming tone. "How many rooms?"
"Three," Pariah said, assuming they'd double up like they had before.
"Five and five," he said. "Got stew and mead. Stew's included. Mead's a shard. Water's free; serve yourself out of the barrel."
As Pariah handed the coins over, Dejen said, "Would you have any tea?"
The man snorted derisively. "Got stew and mead. You want something fancy, head to the Wet Trout."
"I see," said Dejen, startled by the man's hostility.
A cheerful voice came from beside them. "Don't be offended by poor Bartaban's personality. He's like that with everyone."
Pariah turned to see a halfling man grinning up at them from the entrance to the dining room, showing a set of perfect, white teeth. He had long, strawberry blonde hair and twinkling green eyes. He was dressed in bright linen and silk, including a yellow cape trimmed with soft, white fur that swirled as he bowed dramatically to them. "Rinaldo Cherrywhistle at your service, good people. Our gracious host keeps me around to be nice to the guests so he doesn't have to."
Bartaban rolled his eyes as he slapped three keys on the counter. "If I was smart," he growled, "I'd have hired someone big enough to help with their bags."
"Alas, alas," Rinaldo said dramatically, "my frail body is meant for singing and dancing and carousing, not for hard labor. But I bring light into your dingy little inn, and smiles to the faces of your guests. I dare say if it weren't for my charm and wit, your poor little inn would be without any customers at all."
"Only inn in town," Bartaban growled. "People have to stay here."
The halfling shook his head and sighed, "What a sad statement about your business strategy." Then he laughed brightly and said, "I hope you all will join me for a fine lunch of passable stew and cold mead after setting down your things in your rooms."
"Cold," Pariah said. To Bartaban she added, "You don't heat it?"
He snorted. "You want something fancy, head to the Wet Trout."
Since he had said his was the only inn, she guessed, "That's a tavern?"
It was Rinaldo who answered, "A boisterous and loud establishment at the far end of Lakeside. It's a little lively for my taste. I think you will prefer the subtle charm of this establishment. If you're good, I'll regale you with the exciting true story of the White Lady."
Bartaban groaned as he cast a gaze to the heavens. "Not again," he mumbled.
The halfling ignored him as he leaned forward, looked around as though someone was listening, and whispered, "And, tonight, we can try to call up the White Lady's spirit and see if she will tell us where her husband's vast, unclaimed fortune is hidden."
That got Pariah's attention. "How vast a fortune are we talking about?"
"Vast!" he hissed, putting his hands wide apart.
She nodded. "I'm interested in hearing more," she replied with a laugh. She enjoyed tall tales, and she was certain his story would fall into that category.
The travelers headed down the hall and found their three rooms. The inn was warmer than the Northlook had been and they all shed their outerwear and left it with their packs in the rooms. They gathered outside and Pariah said, "Should we eat first as long as we're here? After that, Bjarnson can sell his skins and we can go talk to the captain to see if there is any more information about the murders."
They seemed agreeable, so they headed back to the entrance where Bartaban watched them sourly from his perch on a stool. They continued into the dining room where a fish stew simmered on top of the stove that heated the room. Beside the stove was a doorway with a simple curtain of fur that blocked their view of what was beyond.
Rinaldo was tuning up a fiddle as they came into the room. He lit up and said, "Hello again, my friends." His eyes widened as he spotted Lulu. "My stars, we have an actual angel in our midst." He stood and gave her a deep bow. "I am stunned by your beauty and your celestial magnificence." He stood and said, "Your presence is so glorious, I am practically speechless." He winked at her. "Practically."
Lulu blushed and giggled.
They gathered their bowls of stew while Bartaban came in to grudgingly pour mugs of mead out of a barrel at the back of the room. By the time they had settled at their table, Rinaldo had finished tuning and was playing a bright melody with a quick tempo. He came over and danced around their table as he played. Pariah enjoyed it. Dejen, Zariel and Lulu seemed to as well. Bjarnson didn't seem to mind it, while Eberic wore a frown of irritation.
They were the only ones in the dining room, though it was still a little early so maybe the other guests were still in their rooms or in town. Rinaldo finished his first song to a round of polite applause.
He beamed at them, panting from the exertion of his dancing. "Now then, my friends, I would like to change the mood and tell you the story of the White Lady." He took a deep breath as he brought the fiddle up to his chin. He paused, growing somber, and then started playing a slower but bright melody. After the first few measures, he started to speak.
"Many years ago, a young couple lived here in Easthaven. The husband, Kulta, was a carpenter and his wife, Jori, was a sailor on one of the fishing vessels in Lac Dinneshere. Times were hard and they struggled, and he lamented that he could not bring her the comfort of wealth. She insisted she didn't need money, only him by her side, but he became obsessed with finding riches."
The melody became less energetic, more serious. "Kulta heard the legend of the Lost Tower of Akar Kessell, a wizard who tried to conquer Icewind Dale over a century ago. Kessell used an evil artifact called Crenshinibon to erect two towers of black ice that collapsed after his defeat, but it was rumored there was a third tower deep in the Spine of the World. Kulta headed into the mountains hoping to find it and make his fortune. Jori wished him well and waited here for his return."
Rinaldo's tune turned melancholy. "Alas, one winter's evening, all the fishing boats came back but one, the one that Jori worked on. The boats went out again the next morning, searching for any sign, but found nothing. A service was held to mark the passing of the six crew and the town moved on with their lives, as they always did when a ship was lost."
The halfling played several measures of his sad song before continuing. "The very next day, Kulta returned loaded down not with black ice, but with precious gems. He had found a cave where the gems could be plucked right out of the walls, and he carried the wealth of a king in his pockets. He rushed home, excited to tell his love of his good luck, only to find his home empty, the fire unlit, the rooms cold. A neighbor told him the terrible news, and the carpenter-turned-rich-man sat in stunned silence as precious gems fell from his fingers to clatter to the floor. There he sat, staring into nothing, not speaking or moving for two days."
The melody went from sad to sinister. "A fishing boat came back and the sailors told the story of the White Lady, the ghost of a woman who drifted above the ice of the lake calling out in a mournful voice. The story made its way to Kulta and his eyes lit up for the first time. He filled a chest with his fortune in gems, loaded it into a boat, and rowed out into the lake in the cold winter's night. People on the shore called for him to come back, but he didn't turn, didn't hesitate. His small vessel disappeared into the darkness and he was never seen again."
Again the fiddle music turned sad and lonely. "Nobody knows why he went out that night, though the rumor is he wanted to be reunited with his wife, bringing her the riches he had promised her. The White Lady still haunts the lake on winter nights, and many have sought the boat of the rich carpenter and his chest of gems, but none have succeeded."
Rinaldo's playing started to become more cheerful as he proclaimed, "And then I arrived! I had been part of a trading caravan from Neverwinter. After a perilous journey along Ten Trail where we lost most of our party, I decided to stay here rather than risk the trip back. Now in addition to being a talented musician," he interrupted himself with a few bars of complex notes, "and a charming entertainer, I also dally in some more macabre arts. After taking employment in this fine establishment, and hearing frequent stories of the White Lady, I decided to hold séances to try to contact her to find out more. Is she the beautiful Jori? Why has she not moved on? What happened to Kulta?" The music built to a crescendo and stopped. With a wink and a broad smile, he said, "And what happened to the chest of treasure?"
Everyone in the group was mesmerized by the story. Rinaldo just stared at them with a playful grin, and the silence stretched out. Pariah finally said, "And?"
He sighed in dramatic disappointment as he lowered his fiddle. "I have been able to contact the White Lady, but she has been unable to answer any of those questions."
"Oh," said Pariah, disappointed. "But you said you were going to call her up to ask about the treasure."
"Well, yes," he waffled. "I always ask her, but she never remembers. Still, it doesn't hurt to keep asking! Plus, I think she gets lonely out on the lake by herself. She wanders the breadth of Lac Dinneshere and sometimes knows good gossip about the lakeside towns. It's all in good fun!"
Pariah wasn't sure of the "fun" in pestering the dead about gossip, but there probably wasn't a lot to do in town. Besides the occasional execution, that is.
Eberic frowned at the halfling. "Have you asked her what she knows about the Coldheart Murders?"
Rinaldo looked surprised. "Why, no. I have to admit it never occurred to me." He thoughtfully plucked at the strings of his fiddle. "But she might know something. Would you be interested in joining us tonight?"
The dwarf drummed his fingers on the table and then said, "S'pose it wouldn't hurt."
"Excellent!" Rinaldo said with a wide grin. "Several of us will be gathering in the back room," he pointed towards the curtained-off doorway. "Join us tonight and let's see what secrets we can discover!"
Notes:
"Skin and Bones" was my own addition. There should be a few businesses other than the ones listed in the book, and dealing with meat and hides seems lucrative.
The mention of the Ice Witch and the rise of the Aurilites is a reference to the plot of Legacy of the Crystal Shard.
ROTF barely gives any information on the White Lady, despite the fact they have the séance scene. Legacy of the Crystal Shard lays out the story but it doesn't make sense. The husband came to Icewind Dale to seek his fortune, his wife died in Luskan waiting for him, he stayed here. But why would she haunt a lake in Icewind Dale? So I tweaked the locations so it made more sense.
Chapter 21: Give a Man a Fire...
Summary:
The group heads out into the town of Easthaven to do some business, and possibly attend an execution.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 23, 1496 (7 days after the New Moon)
Loaded down with meat and fur, the group departed the White Lady headed for the east side of town. The sky in the west had tinges of orange, indicating the short day was close to ending. The wind was dead still and, despite the fading light, the air was the clearest it had been since Pariah had arrived in Icewind Dale. Across the ice of the lake, she could see open water and snow-covered islands. A few small fishing boats were making their way towards them, though they were mooring at an island at the edge of the ice sheet rather than making their way back to the frozen pier. Far in the distance, a lone snow-covered peak loomed up from behind the horizon.
"How have I never noticed that before?" Pariah asked nobody in particular as they started following the road along the lake shore. She was surprised that she'd been in Icewind Dale for four days and hadn't seen that the skyline was dominated by a mountain.
"Kelvin's Cairn," Bjarnson said. "If it's clear you can usually see it except on the darkest nights, but the weather's been bad the last few days."
She remembered the map they had gotten at Candlekeep that showed one lone mountain on the tundra of Icewind Dale. "The dwarves live there, right?"
"Well, at the base of it and underneath it. On the mountain itself you'll find mostly yetis, verbeeg and crag cats."
"Verbeeg?" she asked.
"Giant-kin," he explained.
"Like the goliaths?"
"No," he said in irritation. "The goliaths are big but aren't giants."
Pariah wasn't sure why calling the goliaths giants annoyed him, but figured it was probably like calling a tiefling a fiend, so she was sympathetic. "I see. I'll remember that."
The lakeside road led past the frozen piers. The group turned onto another wide road leading into town, a road that went past two distinct features.
The first was a two-story building framed in wood, with walls of wooden lattice daubed with a mixture of clay and straw. It was the first wooden building Pariah had seen in Icewind Dale; every other one had either been made of stone or had been an empty foundation. Atop the steeply pitched roof was a small dome with glass windows, and atop that a flag stirred lazily in the slight breeze coming from behind them. The flag was limp so she couldn't see the design but, from the color scheme, she suspected it was the same tower and snowflake emblem she'd seen on the sign at the edge of town. A brightly painted wooden sign above the double-door entrance proclaimed this to be the town hall.
The other feature was the wood piled up in the small plaza outside the town hall, and the long pole sticking up from it. Two workers were putting more logs on the pile, and she saw barrels of whale oil nearby. A crowd had gathered around and were chatting cheerfully about the upcoming execution.
The crowd resisted their progress at first, but when people realized they weren't trying to get a better view of the pyre, they got out of the newcomers' way. Pariah was walking at the back of the group, her sharp eyes watching the surrounding people. At one point she stepped forward and clapped her hand down on the shoulder of a young man who was reaching for Zariel's pouch. "No," she said firmly into the man's unshaven and startled face.
He looked disappointed but shrugged and moved away.
They moved past the plaza into a scattered stream of people moving towards the execution site. None of them paid the newcomers any mind, and Pariah didn't spot any other pickpockets. The crowd thinned out as they neared the edge of town and the location of the shop the guards had told them about.
The road they were on ended in a sprawling building of brown stucco and white shingles. "Skin & Bones" was sloppily painted over the doorway, and above that was mounted the head of a snarling wolf. The windows were not shuttered, and the interior curtains had been pulled aside, presumably to let in what little light there was.
Bjarnson led the way, opening the simple wooden door to reveal a large room beyond. The stone floor was covered in straw and a musky animal smell permeated the air alongside the smell of burning wood. A large table dominated the front part of the room, and behind that were several racks containing hides stretched to dry. Doors led out of the other three walls, two of which were closed.
Bjarnson dumped his burden on the table as he called out, "Hello!"
"Hello," a man's voice called back from the open doorway. "With you in a moment."
The rest of them put the meat and pelts next to Bjarnson's load. Zariel, Lulu and Dejen went to warm themselves in front of the stove in the back corner while the others waited. Soon they heard uneven footsteps, and a dwarf dressed in leather and fur came into the room. He leaned heavily on a cane, favoring his right foot. His black hair and beard were long and carefully combed, and his eyes were large and bright blue. "Welcome to Skin & Bones," he said with a broad smile. "I'm Thunum Broon." He saw the wares on the table and said, "Well, what have you brought us today?" as he hobbled over.
Bjarnson said, "We killed an owlbear last night."
"Oh, that was you? The patrol brought the rest of the carcass in earlier." He looked over what was on the table, making approving noises. "You did a nice job of skinning and butchering."
"Wish I'd had a sled to haul the whole thing."
Thunum continued to make positive murmurs as he examined the offering. "Good pelt. Lovely, lovely."
"We got the liver as well."
"I see that. I'm the leatherworker. My husband's the butcher, but he's in bed sick today. Hold on a moment, if you would." He laboriously shuffled towards one of the closed doors and cracked it open. "Are you awake?" he whispered into the next room.
A voice mumbled something in return. Thunum said, "How much does an owlbear liver go for?" The unseen voice mumbled again. "All right, thanks. You want some tea and honey?" The voice mumbled, and Thunum replied, "I'll put the kettle on just as soon as I'm done with these customers." He closed the door.
He hobbled back to the table. "Let's see, with that and the meat and the pelt I could give you, oh let's say seventy dragons."
Pariah had no idea if that was a good price or not. It seemed like a lot of money if it had just been something like a reindeer, but owlbear parts were obviously worth more. Bjarnson was handling it though, and he said, "I was hoping to have some of the meat dried." He scratched his bushy red beard. "I'm not sure when we'll be leaving. Might be as early as tomorrow morning. Is that going to be possible if he's sick?"
"We can manage that," the dwarf said uncertainly. "Drying the meat isn't too hard so I could have that done by the morning. You can get the rations half price since you brought the meat yourself."
Bjarnson nodded with a grunt, and Thunum said, "Let me get your payment then," and started limping towards the doorway he had come out of. He came back shortly with a pouch of mostly gold with a few platinum pieces in it. He counted out their payment, and Bjarnson took the opportunity to sort it into five piles so each of them got their share.
Thunum said, "I'll get started on drying that meat for you. Are you going to the execution?" As with everyone else who'd talked about it, the question was asked as though inquiring about a local carnival.
Bjarnson grunted. "Don't know. Probably not."
Zariel said, "I'm surprised that everyone seems so...enthusiastic about this event."
The judgment was heavy in her tone, but the dwarven leatherworker didn’t react to it as he said, "Well, we all liked the young people he murdered, so we're glad to see justice done."
She crossed her arms. "Are you going?"
He looked towards the closed door where his husband was. "If Dashad wasn't sick, we probably would, but I'll stay in and take care of him instead."
Zariel turned to the rest of the group. "Shall we go see the guard captain then?"
They all bundled up against the cold again as Thunum started loading the meat into a small cart. He called out a goodbye as he slowly wheeled it towards the other closed door, and the group made their way back out into the cold.
The light was fading quickly. It would be full dark soon, but the streets were well lit by oil lamps. They followed a road around the southeast side of town, far from the town hall, so they didn't see many other people. The road curved around until they came across a sturdy stone building with a sign declaring it was the town barracks.
Inside the door was a mud room with numerous pairs of furs and dirty boots hanging along the wall. A male human guard was leaning against the wall by the only other doorway, gnawing the last of the meat off a bone. He straightened up when they came in and tried to hide the bone behind his back. His lips glistened with grease as he said in a bored tone, "Civilians aren't allowed to see the prisoner or accompany the prisoner to the pyre."
Zariel said, "We aren't here about the prisoner. We have business with Captain Arlaggath. Would he have time to speak to us?"
The man wiped his mouth with the back of his empty hand, and then looked through the doorway behind him. He looked back at them and said, "Head down the hall to the end. Last door on the left, but you better hurry."
Zariel led the way. Eberic pushed through to follow close behind her, and the others came after. The hallway was narrow with open doorways leading into a mess on the right. On the left were closed doors, behind which was the sound of many voices.
The last door on the left was open. Zariel stopped to knock on the frame. "Captain Arlaggath?" she asked someone Pariah couldn't see.
A woman's voice responded from within the office, "Civilians aren't allowed-"
"We aren't here to talk about the prisoner," Zariel interrupted gently as she stepped into the office. "We are working with the Bryn Shander authorities investigating the Coldheart Murders. I understand there was another one last night."
Eberic and Dejen followed her in. Bjarnson stopped outside as did Pariah. The office would be too small to fit them all anyhow, plus she always tried to avoid the attention of local law enforcement. She glanced in to see the room contained a desk and chair, a short set of shelves, and a stove in the corner that held a kettle on top emitting the smell of coffee. Standing behind the desk was a half-elven woman in a tailored coat of red leather. Long black hair spilled out from a black fur cap. One hand held a steaming mug, and the other was writing something in a book on her desk.
She finished writing and then looked up at the group, her eyebrows climbing slightly as she examined them. "And how did you know that?" she asked Zariel.
"Oh, well, we heard the townspeople talking about it," Zariel said diplomatically.
"Townspeople, huh?" she snorted skeptically. "Or gossipy soldiers." She shook her head. "Never mind. Yes, there was a murder. I'm not ready to talk about it right now. I have a missing fisherman, a rash of thefts, and you've probably heard I have a wizard to burn tonight. Come back tomorrow."
"I understand," Zariel said. "We'll-"
Eberic broke in. "There's no time," he insisted. "We know we are close on their heels. Every day we wait, they get further away!"
The captain frowned at him, and Pariah expected an angry retort, but then the woman relaxed. "I'd be happy to see this person caught, but I'm not sure how much help I can be." She studied Eberic as she took a sip from her cup, and then she said, "I need to fetch the prisoner for the execution right now, but we can walk and talk. I'll tell you what I know." She drained her cup and put it on the desk. "Follow me."
She made her way through the group, Eberic close behind. The others fell into line behind her. She said, "Yes, Bella Threewoods was found dead in her bed last night with a knife of unmelting ice piercing her heart." She opened one of the hallway doors, which revealed a large common room where several soldiers where lounging and chatting. They all leapt to their feet when the captain entered.
She continued talking as she headed to a set of stone steps on the far side that led down. "She lived with two other women who saw and heard nothing. None of the neighbors saw anything. One patrol might have seen a figure lurking in the area, but they didn't see much more than a shadow."
The steps led down into a basement with earth and timber walls. Most of the area was unlit, though Pariah could make out the stacks and crates of a storage area leading into the darkness. Four soldiers were standing idly, coming to attention as the captain came down the stairs. Past them was a cell where a human man stood watching her impassively.
The man stood tall, his head back to look down his nose at the captain with intensely green eyes. His head was topped with a mop of disheveled, ash blonde hair and he had several days of pale stubble on his cheeks. A gag was tied securely across his mouth and his hands were bound tightly, his fingers interlinked. Memories of being abducted by Bitter Breath's hobgoblins surfaced in Pariah's mind; this was how you bind a spellcaster. This must be the wizard, Dzaan.
Despite his current predicament, the man's entire attitude radiated amusement, which seemed an odd response for someone about to be burned at the stake. Lulu flew up near the cage and studied him through the bars.
Arlaggath said to the soldiers, "Get him ready." She turned back to the group. "None of the victims had anything in common. I am aware the murders occur in a pattern each new moon, but I don’t see a connection."
Eberic crossed his arms as he stared at her intently. "Are you sure they have nothing in common?" he asked in a voice that dripped with contempt.
She frowned at him. "Yes. Why? What do you think linked them?"
He glanced over at the soldiers, who had unlocked the cell and were currently manacling the man's feet, and then he looked back at the captain. He paused and then beckoned her down to his level. Puzzled, she bent over. Impatiently, he beckoned her down further. She bent down far enough that he could whisper something in her ear.
She straightened up and anger flashed in her eyes. "That's a lie!" she barked. "Don't you dare spread such nonsense around this town. Now I'm busy, so get out." She turned to one of the four soldiers. "You! Escort these people out of the barracks."
Zariel stammered, "Wait, we don't-"
"Out!" Arlaggath bellowed, pointing to the stairs.
Eberic harrumphed and then headed towards the steps. The others followed, their escort coming behind.
Once they were outside, and the barracks door was closed, Zariel turned to Eberic. "What did you say to upset her?" she demanded.
"I asked if the victim last night had paid to be excluded from the lottery," he said defiantly.
Pariah groaned. "That's not how you ask about something like that. You were asking her if she was corrupt. Corrupt people tend to lie when asked that question."
He flipped up his hood as the wind started to pick up. "We all know that's what's going on here."
"Probably," Pariah agreed. "And I'm not one to suck up to the soldiers, but I don’t go out of my way to irritate them either. That just puts a target on your back."
Zariel added, "And now she will not be an ally in our investigation. All you have done is made an enemy for no reason."
The dwarf grunted and then said, "Let's get back to the inn."
He started down the road they had come from, but Dejen said hesitantly, "Perhaps we should go this way." He was pointing down a side road. "The execution lies that way. The path will be crowded, and I don't want to risk being trapped in the mob and forced to witness such a horrific act."
The dwarf hesitated and then turned and stomped down the road in the direction Dejen had indicated. "Murderers deserve to be executed," he said over his shoulder.
"Perhaps," Dejen replied. "But burning seems like an unnecessarily cruel way of doing it."
Pariah said, "I have to agree. Being burned is no fun."
She had meant it as a joke about her own visible scars, but an uncomfortable silence fell over the group. I guess you had to be there, she thought to herself with a smirk.
Since they weren't on a main road, lights were fewer and farther between. Zariel lit up Bjarnson's staff as they made their way around the edge of town.
Lulu said abruptly, "I talked to the man."
It took Pariah a moment to realize she meant the prisoner. "How?" she asked.
"Telepathy," she tapped her head.
"Oh, right," Pariah said.
Lulu went on. "I asked him why he wasn't scared. He said he couldn't die. He seemed to think the whole thing was funny."
Zariel stopped, and after a moment the rest of the group did as well. Zariel said, "Did he say what he meant? Does he think he's going to be rescued?"
"He didn't say anything like that, just that he couldn't die."
Zariel looked at the ground thoughtfully. "If he is going to be rescued, or if he has some kind of magic that can protect him from the fire, the captain should be warned."
Pariah looked back into the darkness towards the barracks, which was out of sight around a curve in the road. "She won't listen to us."
"I suppose she won't," Zariel replied with a glare at Eberic. "Perhaps we should attend the execution anyhow, in case he does try to escape. The soldiers would need some support against a wizard."
Dejen said, "I don't know. I understand your concern, but I still don't want to watch an execution."
Eberic grumbled, "Not looking to die in a fight that's got nothing to do with me."
Zariel stood up straight. "Well, I shall go offer my assistance. The rest of you may do what you like."
Pariah thought about it. Zariel had a point, though she agreed with Dejen as well. She said, "Maybe we could wait nearby. We don't have to watch the execution, but if we hear a fight we could go help."
Dejen nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that would be acceptable."
Zariel looked at Bjarnson who shrugged. "I don't have an opinion either way. I'll go if you all go."
The group turned to Eberic. "Fine," he grumbled.
They knew the rough direction of the town hall, but they were all strangers to the town, so it took them a little while to find their way back to the plaza. In the end, they followed the stragglers who were showing up late. They finally spotted the crowd at the end of a street and they got closer. They could see Dzaan tied to the post, watching the crowd as though he were the spectator. The captain was on a platform reading the charges from a document.
"This is close enough, I think," Dejen said. "Let's step over this way." He hurried behind a building so he didn't have to see the plaza. The others joined him.
Captain Arlaggath finished her recitation. There was a pause, and then she called out, "May the gods have mercy on your soul." A roar went up from the crowd. Pariah braced herself for the sound of the man's screams, suddenly feeling like this had been a bad idea.
She heard the spectators jeering at the man, taking perverse pleasure in the execution, but she heard nothing else. There were no screams of agony or the sound of battle. Slowly, the voices of the crowd petered out uncertainly until there was nothing but the roaring of the flames. Pariah peered out from the corner of the building. She could see the pyre, the flames reaching high above it, and the man engulfed inside. He stood there unmoving, not making a sound as he burned. And he was burning. She could see through the flames that his flesh was searing, melted fat dripping down, and she could smell it in the smoke. The onlookers watched in stunned silence as the man stood in the inferno defiantly, silently. She turned away.
Time passed and there was nothing but a grim stillness, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the slight whisper of wind. She didn't want to hear him cry out, but his lack of response was unnerving. She braved another peek just in time to see the figure slump into a pile as his ropes were burned through, the flames still consuming his flesh. She half expected him to climb to his feet and calmly walk out, but he didn't stir. If he wasn't dead, he was doing a damn good impression of it.
"Zariel," she said, still staring at the smoldering corpse, "could he be undead?"
The blonde woman stepped out from behind the building and turned to face the pyre. She stared at him intently, and then shook her head. "No, he is not undead."
Pariah turned back to the group, her skin crawling in the unnatural stillness that hung over the area. "I guess he's not being rescued," she said, her voice unsteady. "Let's go back to the inn. I think I need a drink."
Notes:
For those of you who don't know, the chapter title is part of a quote from Jingo by Terry Pratchett: "Give a man a fire and he's warm for a day, but set fire to him and he's warm for the rest of his life."
I'm not triggering the Easthaven quest here, though I did foreshadow it a bit. As is common for sandboxy designs, it's very easy for players to wander into Chapter 1 quests that are way to hard for them, and the Easthaven quest is a pretty tough one.
Chapter 22: Lost Soul
Summary:
The party returns to the White Lady after the execution of the Luskan wizard.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 23, 1496 (7 days after the New Moon)
Over a dozen people had shown up to attend Rinaldo's séance, though most of them had left before it started. The halfling had announced that the White Lady, if she appeared at all, would answer only three questions. Anyone who paid the silver piece admission was given a chance in a lottery to see which three people would be given the chance to ask something. After the drawing, most of the spectators left, disappointed. One woman with thinning silver hair had made a scene, yelling that it was the fourth time she'd shown up, paid, and been turned away. Rinaldo tried to smooth things over with her, but she had stormed out.
Dejen had been one of the ones selected but he had given up his seat to Eberic so he could ask about the Coldheart Murders. The dwarf now sat cross-legged on the floor in the back room of the inn. To his right was a human man with greasy brown hair that spilled out from under a wide-brimmed hat; he had introduced himself as Karsten. To Eberic's left was a dwarven woman named Thodris. She had an intense energy, and the bags under her reddened eyes implied she wasn't sleeping much. She mumbled quietly to herself almost constantly as she counted on her fingers or wrote furiously in a notebook. Pariah had tried to peek over her shoulder at the notebook, but couldn't read the cramped handwriting. The only thing she noticed was the number 83 written several times.
The three of them sat in a circle, a space across from Eberic left open for Rinaldo. The halfling was currently dressed in a ceremonial black robe and moving through the room lighting sticks of incense and mumbling ritualistically. Pariah wasn't sure if they were actually prayers or just part of the show, because it was clear that, whatever else he was, Rinaldo was a showman. His robe was covered in symbols that were clearly supposed to appear arcane, but Pariah could tell they were just gibberish. Multicolored silks hung from the rafters, and the room was dimly lit by candles, including one on a plate put in the center of the seated questioners. The room had a single window with an array of glass panes three high and five wide. A little light from the street lamp outside filtered in through the wavy glass.
There were chairs along one side of the room for spectators, but Pariah stood leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. Rinaldo had invited them to watch, but cautioned them against any interference once the ritual began. Whether this was a scam or a genuine summoning, she was curious to see what was about to happen.
Dejen had also stayed, sharing her curiosity if not her skepticism. He was currently talking to a Shou man named Thom who had a long, white beard with trinkets woven in. They were both seated in the chairs, talking about some obscure local legend from a couple of centuries ago.
Zariel had refused to attend, saying that summoning undead was sacrilege, and Lulu was currently with her. Bjarnson expressed little interest either way, and had gone to his room.
Among the other spectators was a half-orc named Lubash. He had long, unkempt hair and a bushy mustache. He leaned on a crutch that helped him balance on an ill-fitting peg leg. Pariah wondered if he had lost the leg to frostbite, but it seemed rude to ask. They had spoken with each other about the execution earlier that evening, the man expressing bewilderment and horror at how the wizard had simply stood silently as the flames consumed his body.
Currently, Pariah was talking to a middle-aged human woman named Melesa, who was dressed in blue and green wool. After Melesa had mentioned she was a brewer from Good Mead, Pariah had asked her about the rumors of an attack on the town. Apparently a verbeeg had stolen three casks of mead when they were being loaded, killing the town speaker in the process. Contrary to rumor, the supply of mead had never really been in danger, but the town wanted justice for the death of their speaker, not to mention getting the mead back.
The woman was saying, "Shandar stood up in the meeting, berating us all for wringing our hands rather than taking action. He rounded up a squad of militia and they headed out after the verbeeg. He came back alone two days later, dragging a sled loaded with mead behind him. When I left he was trying to recruit more soldiers to recover the bodies of the first group. People are talking about making him the new speaker, though I'm not sure how soon the election is going to be."
Before Pariah could respond, Rinaldo clapped his hands to get their attention as he walked back towards the circle. "We'll get started now. Again I must caution the spectators to remain silent during the ritual." In a somber tone he added, "In addition, anyone who is faint of heart should leave now because the spirits of the dead can be terrifying indeed. This establishment cannot be held responsible for night terrors or death by heart attack. Be warned!"
Pariah suppressed a smile. Her opinion of him was definitely leaning towards "con artist" rather than "medium" right now. Then again the entry fee had been small, though he had mentioned tips were accepted, so perhaps "entertainer" would be more appropriate than "con artist".
Rinaldo sat cross-legged in the circle and gave the others a reassuring nod. He pushed back the sleeves of his black robe, raised his hands, closed his eyes and intoned, "Lady of the lake, we beseech you to visit us and grace us with your wisdom. Come to these humble petitioners in our dark time and answer their questions. White Lady, come!"
Pariah felt a grin spreading across her face. He put on a good show, that was certain. She wondered if the show would be something as simple as a collaborator knocking on the wall, or as sophisticated as an illusion.
Then the room grew substantially colder. Thick frost started forming on the windows, turning them opaque and blocking the trickle of light from outside. Around the room, the candles winked out one by one, until only the one in the center of the petitioners was left, leaving the room mostly in darkness. Pariah could see into the shadows well enough, but could spot no tricks, no collaborators. A wind whispered through the room even though the door and windows were closed. Her grin faded as she sensed a presence.
"The White Lady is here," Rinaldo declared with satisfaction. To the air around him he said, "Thank you for granting us an audience." He turned to the three in the circle and said firmly. "Remember, one question. Make it clear because you won't get a second chance unless you come back tomorrow night. Your answer will be written in the frost on the window."
He turned to Karsten and said, "Ask your question."
The greasy-haired man nodded and looked up into the dimness above the lone candle flame. He called out, "My friend, Elese, is a fisher. She went out on the water two days ago and hasn't come back." He paused. "I like to believe you watch over the fishers, considering what happened to you, so I ask this: where is she?"
The air stirred and the candle flame flickered. A line appeared in the thick frost on one of the panes of glass in the window, a line about the width of a finger tip. Slowly the spirit wrote the words, "LOST TO THE HUNGER".
The man studied the writing and cocked his head. "She's been missing only two days. She couldn't have starved in that time."
"Please," Rinaldo cautioned. "Limit yourself just to your questions. We can discuss the answers later."
Karsten frowned at the frosted glass but then nodded and crossed his arms.
Rinaldo turned to Eberic and said, "Ask your question."
His back was to Pariah but she could imagine the intense look on his face as he asked, "Where is the Coldheart Killer?"
Again the air stirred gently. On a different window pane, new words started to form: "CAER-DINEVAL".
Pariah remembered that two of the towns had names like that, Caer-Something. They had been on the right side of the map so probably north of Easthaven and fairly close by.
Eberic seemed to relax a little. Rinaldo turned to the dwarven woman and said, "Ask your question."
"Right, right, right," she said, speaking fast and clipping her words short. "I've been thinking and I've been dreaming and I know it's real and I know it's here and I know it lurks and we have to find it because it's the source of it, the cause of it, the reason for it. It haunts me, haunts us all, takes from us..."
Rinaldo put a hand on hers and said gently, "Please, limit yourself to your question."
The woman stared at him, or through him anyhow. After a moment she said, "Right, right, right. Well, you see, in my dreams and in my thoughts and in my studies I see the number, and I know it's real, and I know it's important but I don't know why or how or when. You might know. You could know."
Rinaldo squeezed her hand and gave her a stern look.
"Right, right, right," she said, chastised. "So my question, my question is this. It's this." She took a deep breath and asked loudly, "What is the number 83?"
There was a pause. The air didn't stir like it had the other times. Pariah wondered if the ghost was just as nonplussed as the rest of them. However she saw the frost on another glass pane start to move as letters appeared. In moments, she could see "AURIL'S DISCIPLES" written in the frost.
She'd thought the woman was crazy, but the answer implied there was some truth in her ravings. Was the ghost saying there were 83 disciples? Or was the answer more nuanced, like some obscure reference to their plans? Regardless, the Aurilites would certainly know more about the Everlasting Rime and Auril's role in it. Bjarnson had said there weren't many Aurilites in Easthaven, so Pariah raised her voice to ask, "Where is the nearest cult stronghold?"
Everything in the room suddenly froze in time. It was like everyone had stopped breathing. Even the candle flame seemed to be perfectly still. Then Rinaldo's eyes widened in fear. Into the empty room he yelled, "Wait!"
A wind tore through the room accompanied by an angry shriek. Pariah was lifted off the ground and thrown across the room, smashing into the window. Glass panes shattered and she fell to the floor. "Stop!" Rinaldo yelled. "Please stop! It was a mistake!"
A chair flew across the room towards Pariah and she rolled aside as it crashed into the floor. She scrambled to her feet and sent a beam of frost towards where the chair had been but it just splattered harmlessly against the wall.
Meanwhile, most of the others had fled out the door, crying out in terror. Eberic was standing with his back against one wall, his shortsword in his hand as he scanned the room. Rinaldo was still sitting on the floor, pleading with the ghost while he glared at Pariah.
A chair next to Pariah lifted off the ground. She tried to pull the cold into her armor like she used to do, but for some reason she couldn't control the spell. It burst out from her to bathe half the room in dark energy. "Hey!" called out Eberic angrily as the magic washed over him, and Rinaldo, just outside the range of the blast, leapt to his feet and scurried back against the far wall. A ghostly wail sounded, implying the spirit had been injured by the discharge.
Zariel burst into the room and scanned the scene quickly, zeroing in on a point in the middle of the room. She drew her sword, which glowed with a faint blue light, and cried out, "Begone foul spirit!" She stepped forward to strike at the air with a powerful two-handed grip on her longsword and managed to hit something. There was a burst of light from her weapon, a fading scream of woe, and then the heavy coldness that had filled the room faded. The chairs stopped flying and Pariah couldn't sense the presence she had felt before.
The halfling stomped over and glared up at Pariah, pointing an accusatory finger. "Three questions! That's all!"
Adrenaline was still coursing through Pariah's blood, not to mention she was starting to feel the pain of being slammed against the window, but she bit back an angry comment. She took a calming breath and felt guilt starting to seep in. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."
The contrition in her voice seemed to mollify him a bit. He looked around at the devastation and said, "Well, she does sometimes have a temper. Maybe I need to stop allowing spectators."
A heavy sigh drew Pariah's attention to the doorway to the dining room. Bartaban stood there, surveying the damage. "Again?" he said in a resigned voice.
"It was her!" Rinaldo said quickly, pointing at Pariah. "The damage is her fault!"
"Why do I let you indulge in this nonsense?" Bartaban mumbled, mostly to himself.
"Because it brings you business that otherwise would go to the Wet Trout," Rinaldo replied. Then he added with a stern look at Pariah, "And I'm sure the young lady will be reimbursing you for the damage caused by her actions."
A chill gust of wind blew in through the smashed glass. Rinaldo shivered and said, "Let's move this into the next room."
Bartaban ran a calculating eye over the room again. "Ten dragons," he said to Pariah. "And you'll help me board that up." He pointed to the broken window.
She looked over at the window. Nearly all of the panes had been shattered. Only one remained intact, the one that still bore a layer of frost with "CAER-DINEVAL" written in fading letters. "Yeah, that's fair," she sighed.
"...eight...nine...ten." Pariah finished counting out the gold coins into Bartaban's palm. They had nailed a large board to the window frame to cover the broken panes. Considering the board was cut precisely the size of the window, and already had a number of nail holes in the edges, she gathered this was not the first time this had happened, which made her feel a little better about her mistake. Bartaban had also mumbled that the glazier in town could produce new panes in a few days.
Zariel and Lulu had both used some healing magic on her, which Pariah appreciated because she was still hurting from the encounter with the owlbear. Eberic had caught the edge of Pariah's uncontrolled spell but seemed unharmed.
Bjarnson had been in his room and had come into the dining room when he heard the commotion. She had told the group the story of what had happened, feeling a bit foolish for her role in it. Then again, since it had apparently happened often, she thought that Rinaldo should have warned them of the spirit's temper.
The halfling had assured them that the White Lady was not gone, just dispersed. Her ghost would reform in a couple of days and he would call on her again. Pariah wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Assuming the woman was bound for one of the Upper Planes, being trapped in the mortal realm probably wasn't pleasant for her.
"Let's look at the map," Eberic broke in impatiently as Zariel finished her healing on Pariah.
"Be patient," the warrior chided him gently.
"But if the killer is in Caer-Dineval, we should leave immediately."
Bjarnson said, "It's far to late to head out, and it will be a two-day trip anyhow. The only good way to get to the caers is by ferry across the lake, but the ferry's been iced in for months so we have to make a hard journey along a poorly traveled path along the shore."
Eberic grunted in annoyance but said nothing.
Zariel had pulled out the map they had gotten from Candlekeep and spread it out on the table. "Caer-Dineval. Ah, here it is."
The group crowded around to look at the map. Easthaven was on the southern tip of Lac Dinneshere. The Eastway road led west to Bryn Shander, and about a third of the distance back it crossed another road that led north to Caer-Dineval and Caer-Konig, and south to Dougan's Hole and Good Mead. Pariah said, "I don't remember passing this crossroads," pointing to the map.
Bjarnson said, "I do, but it's pretty easy to overlook if you don't know it's there."
"Then you know where to go?"
"I do," he nodded.
Zariel was studying the map. "So the murders start each new moon in Targos." She pointed to a town to the west, on the southern tip of the lake called Maer Dualdon. "Then Bryn Shander," she ran her finger east, "then Easthaven," she continued east. "And now our quarry is in Caer-Dineval." Her finger curved round to the north.
She made a thoughtful noise. She traced the line again, from Targos to Bryn Shander to Easthaven to Caer-Dineval, tracing out a rough arc. She kept going, moving her finger north to Caer-Konig, west to Dwarven Valley and Termalaine, and then back south to Targos. She traced the circle on the map over and over. "That is the pattern I saw in my vision."
It took Pariah a moment to remember the vision she had talked about in Bryn Shander. Eberic frowned at Zariel and said, "What vision?"
Zariel drummed her fingers on the map. "I prayed to Lathander for guidance. I thought he was guiding me to an answer about the Everlasting Rime, but maybe he was showing me the murderer. I wonder if the killer stalks this path." She traced the circle on the map again.
Eberic looked back at the map and then his eyes widened. He slammed his fist on the table and said, "Dugmaren take me for a fool! It's Torg's!"
Most of the group looked at him in bewilderment, though Bjarnson was studying the map with a thoughtful look as he stroked his beard. Zariel asked, "Torg's?"
"The traders. That's their path. They take that circle around the towns twice every moon in a precise order. They spend the new moon and the full moon in Termalaine, then they travel to five other towns and Dwarven Valley, each two days apart, ending up back in Termalaine. The murders in Targos are always one or two nights after the new moon, Bryn Shander three or four nights after the new moon, and Easthaven five or six nights after. That's when they are in each of those towns."
Pariah asked, "Why only the new moon? If they are killing people in these towns, why not each time they pass through?"
It was Dejen who answered, "The moon cycle is important to a number of rituals, particularly in divine and nature magic. Auril, being one of the nature gods, would be tied closely to the moon, and the new moon is a time of both death and rebirth. Ideally these murders, these sacrifices, would occur on the night of the new moon but the killer apparently can't be in three places at one time." He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "That implies it's a single person. I had wondered if it was the Aurilite cult, but if so they'd schedule the sacrifices at the same time. So he or she might not be serving Auril directly. It's possible the killer is trying to curry favor with the Frostmaiden by killing those who have escaped...well, 'justice' isn't the right word. Let us say escaped their fate as her sacrifices."
"Then it must be Torrga or one of her people," Eberic growled. "We have to catch up to them and mete out a little punishment." He clapped his shortsword.
Zariel said sternly, "If Torg's is involved, then we will question them. This could easily be a coincidence."
"Ha!" he replied.
She cautioned him, "I will not allow you to harm innocents. We will investigate and evaluate before taking drastic action, preferably with the help of law enforcement in Caer-Dineval."
Bjarnson said thoughtfully, "We won't catch them in Caer-Dineval. They'll be gone by the time we get there. We can probably catch them by Caer-Konig if we don't have any trouble on the road, or Dwarven Valley at the latest. As for law enforcement, these towns aren't like Bryn Shander and Easthaven. They have speakers and a few soldiers, but nothing as formal as a sheriff."
Eberic added, "And Southwell said they'll be executed anyhow. We'll just save them some time."
Zariel pursed her lips and said, "Perhaps, but we will not take action without obvious evidence of the guilty party. We are not a lynch mob."
The dwarf snorted, turned and walked away, headed for his room. Zariel watched him go with a stormy expression. Pariah watched them both, wondering how events were about to play out.
Notes:
Pariah's spell was meant to reflect a failed armor of Agathys, which she can't cast because she doesn't have the material or a focus yet. It turned into an arms of Hadar, which actually does negative energy. Specters are immune to negative damage, but this was a story battle rather than a real battle. I didn't run the combat through Roll20 since it was so small and quick, but I did note damage and spell slots.
Chapter 23: Taming the Wild
Summary:
Another dark morning in Icewind Dale as the party heads out from Easthaven towards Caer-Dineval, hoping to catch up to the Coldheart Killer.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 24, 1496 (8 days after the New Moon)
Pariah sat cross-legged on the bare dirt, her eyes closed as she tried to relax. The wind roared outside, but she was mostly sheltered here. She felt the air move, especially across her face since her hood was down. The ground was cold against her legs. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of animals, and she could hear movement within the kennel. She tried to feel the natural energies of the place but was having trouble sensing anything other than cold air and stinky dogs.
She opened her eyes to look around the dimly lit kennel. The kennel master was watching her suspiciously. He had agreed to let her try her experiment, but clearly didn't trust her motives. She ignored him and focused on the animals. There must have been twenty dogs in the area, and she knew there were others outside. Locals tended to keep their own dogs, but visitors would board their sled teams here while in town.
Some of the dogs were watching her with a curious air, though most of them were sleeping. She picked one of the watching animals and focused her attention, trying to sense its energy against the background of the rest of them. She pursed her lips as she sensed nothing. She pointed at it. "You. Come here."
The dog cocked its head slightly but remained where it sat.
She patted her thigh. "Come here," she said again. "Come on."
The dog stood and ambled over. She felt a slight thrill of victory. "Stop," she said, holding up her hand. The dog stopped. "Sit."
The dog stared at her.
"Sit," she said more firmly, snapping her fingers. The sound attracted the attention of a couple of the other dogs, but didn't make the one she was focused on obey her.
"Sit," she tried a third time, and this time the dog settled on its haunches.
Pariah breathed out a sigh, trying to suppress her frustration. She pointed to a stick she had placed about ten feet away. "Get the stick."
The dog continued to watch her, its tail thumping on the cold, hard dirt.
She pointed again. "Get the stick. That one. That one there. Get the stick."
The dog looked at her pointing finger, then back at her.
"No, not my finger. The stick. Get the stick!"
The dog stood up, walked up to her and sniffed at her hand.
"No, the stick!"
The dog licked her hand twice and then wandered off. The saliva quickly turned her hand cold, and she wiped it on her furs. "Talona's tits," she sighed.
Bjarnson chuckled from behind her. "It takes time," he assured her. "It's only your first day."
She climbed to her feet and stretched. She'd been sitting there for about an hour. "I guess," she said, "but I feel like I'm not doing anything. Anyone can get a dog to come or sit."
"I think maybe that's what's holding you back," he said. "You seem focused on your words rather than the message. Words can help you focus, but it's the natural forces that are really communicating. Your body language is good. Your tone needs a little work. And your personal energy is all over the place. But you're making progress."
"I'll take your word for it," she said. She thought she had felt...something, some stirring of her own magic plus some force from all around her, but it had been so slight she might have been imagining it. "Let's get back and see if the others are up yet," she said as she flipped up her hood and put on her mittens. She and Bjarnson had gotten up earlier than the others so he could train her before they left town.
They exited the kennel into the stiff wind outside and started back down the road towards the White Lady. Unlike Bryn Shander, the town wasn't walled, and the wind tore down the streets unobstructed. She could already see snow building up in drifts against the buildings.
Pariah wondered if she was on a dangerous path, trying to develop this magic that had returned. She wanted to believe that she wasn't attracting Levistus's attention, wasn't stumbling back into an agreement with him, that somehow this magic was hers and not his.
And it did feel different. She hadn't even realized that her old magic had carried an undercurrent of corruption until it wasn't there. Somehow this felt purer, safer than the power she had had before. However, it was also harder to control, as shown by her losing control of the spell at the séance. Maybe she was kidding herself by trying to learn from Bjarnson, but she had to try something to make it different.
Inside the White Lady, they found the others were up and eating their breakfast already. The dining room was full, and she recognized several of the people from the séance the night before. She nodded recognition at a couple of them as she got her morning bowl of stew and joined the others.
"Eberic's not up yet?" Pariah asked, noticing the dwarf was missing.
Dejen said, "I haven't seen him this morning. I knocked on his door but there was no answer."
Bjarnson scowled into his stew. "I hope he wasn't foolish enough to head out on his own."
Pariah was a little worried about that. He had been impatient to get on the road, but surely he would have waited for the others. Bartaban came out of the small kitchen to dump some chopped potatoes into the stew pot. Pariah called out to him, "Did the dwarf who was with us leave?"
The old man shrugged and said, "He went out this morning but didn't have his pack with him," before heading back into the kitchen.
Pariah reflexively looked through the doorway towards the reception desk, though she couldn't actually see the front door from this angle. "I wonder what he's up to?" she mused.
They hadn't finished eating by the time the door of the inn banged open, letting in a gust of cold air. She heard someone enter and then slam the door shut. Eberic came into the dining room carrying a hide bag. He grunted when he saw the others. "Ready to go?"
Pariah said, "Not just yet." She and Bjarnson had only just started eating. "What's that?" she asked, nodding to the bag.
He looked down at it and then crossed the room to drop it on the table with a thump. "Our rations from Skin and Bones."
That's right, Pariah reminded herself. They had already paid for rations to be made from the owlbear meat. The place was on the other side of town, so would have required a short detour.
Eberic sat down and drummed his fingers as he glared impatiently at the others who were finishing their breakfasts. Bjarnson was usually the one pushing them to leave, but he said to the dwarf, "It's a day and a half of travel to Caer-Dineval. Torg's will have left by the time we get there regardless." He took a big spoonful of stew.
Eberic said, "But it's only a half-day further to Caer-Konig. If we put in two long travel days, we could be there by tomorrow evening before they move on to Dwarven Valley."
Bjarnson chewed thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said. "If the weather was with us." He nodded towards the door and the muffled sound of the wind. "But it's not. The path between here and Caer-Dineval can barely be called a road, and the route to Caer-Konig is even worse." Sternly he added, "You know that pushing yourself too hard in bad weather is dangerous."
"I don't care!" the dwarf snapped, shaking his graying head. "We have to catch up to them."
Zariel reminded him, "I must caution you that we still don't know they are guilty of anything. It may be a false lead. We are going there to investigate."
He just turned his head away from her and remained silent.
Pariah said, "And rushing in when you're not ready just gets you dead. We know where they are. We know where they are going. There shouldn't be any murders until the next new moon. We have time." When he didn't seem convinced, she added, "We'll get justice for your friend."
He grimaced at her but then gave a firm nod.
To be fair, she was restless to get moving just to do something. She wanted to get out of this town. Memories of the wizard standing silently as his flesh burned haunted her far more than the actual ghost she had fought. She hurried to finish her meal and it wasn't long before they were ready to go. They gathered their things from their rooms and headed outside.
The wind was bad in town, but worse once they passed the last of the buildings out onto the Eastway proper. With nothing to block the wind at all, it whipped violently through their group. They were walking directly into the teeth of it, and Pariah found she had to keep one hand on her fur hood so it wouldn't blow off. They all donned their goggles, which made it easier to see in the blowing snow.
They traveled quite a ways back in the direction of Bryn Shander. The dawn had come, giving a little bit of light to the area, but the weather had worsened. Visibility was bad and it was hard even to see the log tripods that marked the side of the road. She was glad with each one they passed because without them they might as well have been wandering trackless wilderness. No sled patrols came by, and she wondered if that was because of the storm.
One of the tripods had a sturdy pole sticking up from the middle, with a sign that pointed north. Carved into the top half of the sign was "Caer-Dineval", and into the bottom half "Caer-Konig". She didn't remember seeing it on the way out, but assumed it must have been there.
Bjarnson motioned them together near the sign. Yelling to be heard over the increasing wind, he said, "Storm's getting bad. It's going to be easier to get lost once we leave the Eastway. We could hunker down here until it's over, or keep going."
"Keep going," Eberic said.
Dejen said, "I think perhaps we should wait here."
Zariel looked to the north and said, "I say we press on."
Pariah debated the idea internally and then asked Bjarnson, "What do you think?"
He looked up at the sky and then towards the north before turning back to the group. "If I were by myself, I'd probably go on. If we are going to catch Torg's, I'd rather do it before we hit Dwarven Valley. Politics are complicated there. Taking an hour to eat breakfast is one thing; taking several hours to wait out a storm is another. Then again, travelling in a blizzard is much harder than normal."
Pariah turned her face away as an especially harsh gust of wind hit her, and then she turned back to him. "How dangerous is it to keep going?"
He paused and she couldn't see his expression behind his beard and goggles. Finally he said, "It's dangerous to keep going; it's dangerous to stay put. That's Icewind Dale."
"Then we might as well keep moving," she said.
All eyes turned on Dejen, who said hesitantly, "Oh, very well. If you all think it best."
Bjarnson reached to take a coil of rope from his pack. "In that case, we should tie ourselves together. You can get lost twenty feet from safety."
She hoped that was an exaggeration. He went from person to person, tying a quick harness across their shoulders and around their waists. He used intricate knots that reminded Pariah of what she'd seen the sailors in Baldur's Gate use. There was three to four paces of rope between each person. "Keep it slack," he said. "Keep everyone in sight."
They headed out in a line, Bjarnson in front followed by Eberic, Zariel, Dejen and Pariah. Lulu spent her time in Zariel's coat, since the wind made it hard for her to fly.
The storm continued to hammer at them, the wind blowing hard from their left. Even though there was a little light, the blowing snow kept them from being able to see far ahead. Pariah could barely make out Dejen and Zariel in front of her, and couldn't detect the other two at all. She occasionally looked around for threats, but the lack of visibility made it futile. Any sane enemy would be sheltering from the storm, she hoped.
She felt the isolation looming up around her like it had during the last bad storm. Even though she could see the shape of Dejen ahead, and barely see Zariel beyond him, she felt like she was fighting her way through the storm alone. She kept her focus on them, hoping that Bjarnson at the front of the line knew were he was going. They occasionally passed tripods of logs that confirmed they were on the right path, but she found little comfort in that. The constant pounding of the wind and the biting cold that found its way into her hood were quickly sapping her energy.
A sudden movement surged across the path, passing right behind Dejen. Pariah stopped walking, puzzled, unsure if she'd seen anything at all. There was so much blowing snow it was hard to make out details, but something white had certainly passed between them. Could it have been some kind of huge gust of snow?
A heavy weight crashed into her from behind and she felt a sharp pain across her ribs. She fell face down into the snow as something bit into the top of her pack, probably aiming for the back of her neck. The smell of rotten meat reached her nostrils.
The snow under her was soft and gave way under the weight on top of her. She shrugged out of her pack and scrambled out from under her attacker, getting to her feet as she drew her sword. A great, white-furred cat was tearing into her pack with claws and teeth. Its coloration made it hard to see against the snow, even from a few feet away. Standing, its shoulder would come up to her hip, and she guessed it weighed about as much as she did. It jerked its head up to look at her and surged forward with a hoarse yowl.
Her senses felt suddenly heightened, though she didn't know if that were from the adrenaline or something else. As the beast closed, she felt like she knew where it was going to go. Clumsy on her snowshoes, she still managed to slip to the side as it leapt at her again. She struck as it started to pass her, cutting through the thick fur. Bright red blood stained the creature's white hide. The cat turned and started towards her again, but a crossbow bolt appeared out of the storm. Rather than hitting the cat, it burst into sparkles around the beast's head. The animal's eyes glazed over and it slumped into a pile on the snow.
Pariah turned to see Dejen still pointing his small crossbow with his left hand, his quill in his right poised above the weapon. He straightened up with a satisfied air, but Pariah saw movement behind him. "Look out!" she yelled, but too late.
A second cat leapt out of the wall of blowing snow behind Dejen. It landed on his back, bearing him to the ground, and bit at the back of his neck. Unlike her attacker, this one wasn't blocked by his back pack and its teeth sank into the furs around Dejen's neck and shoulder.
As Pariah rushed forward, yelling to try to get the animal's attention, she saw a third beast beyond. It was on top of Zariel, who had managed to get on her back and was using her mailed forearm to keep the animal's teeth away from her throat. Eberic and Bjarnson were running to her aid, but the cat bit down on Zariel's forearm and Zariel's cry of pain could be heard over the wind.
Pariah remembered the burst of dark energy she'd accidentally called up in the White Lady, but she didn't know how to just hit the cats without also hitting her two injured companions. Dejen was trying to crawl out from under the nearer animal. Pariah closed and struck at it, but it dodged her blade and bared its teeth at her.
Thin evergreen branches, like those of a juniper bush, burst out of the snow next to the beast and reached out to wrap themselves around it. It struggled in confusion as the branches entangled its legs and held its jaws back. Dejen scrambled back in terror, his blood staining the front of his furs. He couldn't get far because he was still roped to Pariah and Zariel.
With one cat asleep, and one apparently trapped, Pariah rushed towards the one attacking Zariel. Eberic was harassing it with his shortsword, which had distracted it enough to allow Zariel to regain her feet, though she seemed to be having trouble staying upright. She drew her longsword and plunged it into the snow in front of her. "Witness!" she cried out, her voice carrying through the scream of the wind. Her sword flashed with a burst of light, and then she fell to her knees and backwards onto the snow.
The cat stumbled back in confusion, shaking its head from the disorienting flash. It didn't see Pariah coming up on its side. Again she felt her senses sharpen. She saw the animal, but more than just as an object. She saw its life, its nature, its weaknesses. She plunged her sword between its ribs and drew blood. Eberic struck its other side at the same time, and the great cat fell lifeless to the crimson-stained snow.
Pariah quickly turned towards the one behind her just in time to see it flex its muscles and break out of the branches wrapped around it. She readied herself for its attack, but it turned and fled into the storm. She fired icy energy after it but missed, and it was quickly swallowed up by the swirling flurries. The third animal, the one that had attacked her, lay unmoving in the snow though she could see its chest rising and falling.
Bjarnson was already attending to Zariel. Dejen was standing nearby, his hood blown back by the wind. He surveyed the area with wide eyes. Keeping one eye on the sleeping cat, she moved up to him and shouted, "How long will it stay asleep?"
His eyes slid up to meet hers, his expression frozen as he tried to make sense of what was happening. After a moment he said, "Not that long. It is an unnatural sleep."
"All right. Go see Bjarnson."
He looked blankly at her, then over at the large man. Zariel was awake and struggling to sit up. Dejen stumbled over in that direction.
Pariah beckoned to Eberic and then towards the sleeping animal. He still had his sword drawn, and he gave her a grim nod. He had removed his rope harness and she shrugged out of hers, since the cat was more than a rope length from the others. The two of them moved to either side of the animal. She examined it but didn't feel that same connection, that innate knowledge of its place in the world, that she had felt with the other cats. She didn't know what that was, but wondered if it was related to the things Bjarnson had tried to teach her.
Striking in unison, she and Eberic made short work of the last animal. It was dead before it could even regain its feet. She looked around for the last but saw nothing. It seemed safe to assume that it had fled when faced with difficult prey, though she would certainly ask Bjarnson's opinion on the matter.
"Come on," Eberic said. "You need healing."
"I do?" she said in surprise, and then she remembered the pain in her side when the cat attacked. She touched the furs on her back and felt the stickiness there. "Oh, I do." She started to feel a little dizzy, but the dwarf quickly came up to steady her and guide her to Bjarnson to be examined.
Notes:
The opening is a precursor to her getting speak with animals at level 3 from ranger's Primal Awareness.
I ran this battle twice. The whole party starts surprised. Crag cats have a pounce mechanic that boils down to claw attack, DC 13 STR check or go prone, if prone then bite attack (at advantage because prone). First round, they managed to take out both Pariah and Zariel with critical hits before any of the PCs could even act. Second round, Dejen tried casting Sleep but rolled too low to take one of them out. Eberic missed. The crag cats took down Dejen and really hurt Eberic before Bjarnson, with his initiative of 1, finally got a turn and used Healing Word on Zariel. There was no way they were going to make it out of that one.
I was going to run it again with two cats but I really wanted three, so I tried it again and this time the rolls favored them more.
A future story point requires access to a certain spell, and I wanted Zariel to have it, but I couldn't figure out how to do it. However, I thought about her sword. I've mentioned that it will automatically gain in power as she levels, and I also remember that scene from the previous story where she plunged it into the ground and a pulse of energy drove the devils back in fear. I decided that her sword has one charge a day that lets it cast a spell, and the list of spells will be very short. For now, she can use it to cast color spray flavored as a burst of blinding light rather than colorful rays. She'll get other spells as she levels. It's meant more as a plot device than a typical magic item.
Zariel was actually was at 0 HP so shouldn't have been able to use her new sword power, but I wanted to introduce it in the story, so I gave her an action before she went down. Pariah's connection during combat was her Favored Foe. Dejen cast sleep.
Chapter 24: Visit to a Remote Town
Summary:
With half of them badly injured from the crag cat ambush, the group seeks shelter from the blizzard.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 24, 1496 (8 days after the New Moon)
Bjarnson said, "Are you sure you don't want to get that wound looked at?" It was hard to hear him through the sound of the wind around them.
Pariah shook her head as she helped him pull the cat's hide away from the meat on the carcass. Steam rose from the warm flesh as it was exposed to the frigid air. "It's fine. It looks worse than it is." That was only partially true. It did seem shallow and the bleeding had stopped, but she was trying to favor that side as she worked since she didn't want it to start bleeding again.
Dejen and Zariel had been much worse off. He had a deep wound in his shoulder from the animal's canines, and she had multiple wounds and had lost a lot of blood before Bjarnson had stabilized her. She was currently using her healing magic on herself and Dejen.
The wind was still strong but they were in the lee of the ridge the crag cats had attacked from. Bjarnson had confirmed they were crag cats, the same beasts that had nearly killed Eberic and his friend a couple of years back. Although they looked like beasts, they had an inherent ability to resist magic, sometimes even reflecting it back on their attackers.
"Can you turn into something like this?" Pariah asked him.
As they reached the animal's head, Bjarnson pulled out a knife to cut the hide around the neck, freeing it from the body. "No. I can turn into only a few animals, and they have to be natural beasts. These creatures are magical. There is a similar looking animal called a tundra cat that doesn't have the magic. My guess is some wizard a few hundred years ago took a tundra cat and changed it, gods only know why. But I do hope to change into a tundra cat some day."
They started making quick cuts of the fleshier parts of the animal. Like the owlbear, a real butcher would have been able to get a lot more meat but this was just a quick field dressing to recover what they could. Unlike the owlbear, the rest of the carcass wouldn't likely be found and brought to town. The remainder would be left for the wildlife; the third crag cat might come back and dine on his companions.
Eberic was on watch for that possibility, though both he and Bjarnson agreed the animal almost certainly wouldn't attack again. However, between the storm and the smell of blood in the area, they were moving quickly so they could get out of there.
They made short work of the second cat's carcass and soon had two hides wrapped around chunks of meat. Dejen and Zariel were on their feet, though both looked pretty pale. Bjarnson studied them critically. "We'll go on a bit to get away from this site, but we need to settle in for the night."
"What?" said Eberic. "No, we need to soldier on. They're fine. We need to catch up with Torg's as quickly as possible."
"We are still likely to catch them in Caer-Konig, but we need to rest. If we get attacked again, which is likely as we get close to town, we are going to be in a lot of trouble."
"Why when we get close to town?" Pariah asked. "Wouldn't it be safer near town?"
"Normally, yes, but Caer-Dineval is one of those towns that puts out food as a sacrifice to Auril. That attracts wildlife, making the nearby wilderness dangerous. The sacrifice site is about a mile west of town, but animals hunt the area looking for more prey."
"We could catch up with the caravan by tomorrow night," Eberic insisted.
Patiently, Bjarnson said, "Or the night after. Torg's will still be in Caer-Konig then. We can afford to be cautious. Besides, if we are going to fight this killer, don't you want us to be ready for battle?"
Eberic's face stormed behind his graying beard, but he finally grumbled, "Fine."
Bjarnson roped them together again and they continued north, though they walked a little closer together this time. After about an hour he led them up towards the ridge to the left of the trail, stopping in a gap between two boulders just short of the top. The rocks sheltered the area from wind, and they had to clear only about a foot of snow before finding the soil beneath.
There were a few trees on the hill and they were able to harvest enough branches to build crude frames for hanging the crag cat skins. Before hanging them, Bjarnson showed them how to flesh the hides, and everyone helped scrape the residual meat and fat off, and throw it into the stewpot. They then hung the hides skin-side out so the cold temperatures and wind would help dry them. The skins and the boulders surrounding them made a decent shelter and, once they got the fire going in the enclosure, the area got warm quickly.
Bjarnson added more meat as well as other ingredients to the pot and it wasn't long before the pork-like smell of crag cat stew filled the air. By the time it was ready, the wind had stopped and a thick fog had rolled in from the east, where the lake was. It was surreal going from the screaming wind to the dead silence, muted by the mist and the snow.
After dinner, he took the time to examine and bandage everyone's wounds. Zariel's magic had helped the healing, but there was only so much she could do and some basic first aid never went wrong. Dejen took anyone's clothing or armor that had been torn by the cats and used his quill to draw lines across the rents. Pariah watched over his shoulder as the material sealed itself up. Remembering her backpack, she asked him to fix those tears as well.
They set up a watch schedule. Bjarnson said he'd take the first one, so Pariah settled into her bed roll and drifted off to sleep.
Kythorn 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
The scream of the wind had woken Pariah up in the dimness of firelight, though it had been time for her to relieve Eberic anyhow. The storm had returned while they slept but their camp was protected from the worst of it. Eberic and Bjarnson both slept through it, though Zariel and Dejen stirred restlessly. Pariah fed the fire and kept an ear out, though she couldn't hear anything above the wind. Lulu wasn't there; Eberic had said that she had been bored and had woken Zariel up long enough to send her back to Heaven for the night. Pariah passed the time by writing in her journal and reading.
She looked over when Dejen sat up from his bed roll. He crawled over to her and whispered, "What time is it?"
She shrugged. "Not sure, but you probably still have an hour or two. Go back to sleep."
"No," he said, smoothing back his coarse-textured hair. "I think I've gotten all the sleep I can in this storm. Go ahead and lie down. I'll take the rest of the watch."
She debated for a moment, and then said, "All right. Wake me if you get tired."
She crawled into her bedroll and tried to sleep, but her body wouldn't cooperate. The sound of the storm and the shaking of the crude tent both made it hard to relax. She dozed a bit but didn't really sleep. Dejen headed outside briefly, presumably to pee, but he came back safely and nothing else happened. Bjarnson eventually got up and fed the fire to heat up the stew from last night, and the others started stirring as well, so Pariah got up.
Much like the night they'd spent in the cave, she didn't feel that rested. She felt a little twinge of pain from her wound and her muscles ached a lot from the exertion. The shelter was warm, but only in comparison to the bitter chill of the outside. Zariel summoned Lulu again, and her cheerful energy was appreciated by the group.
By the time they were all awake and fed, the storm had abated into a dead calm and again a dense fog rolled in. They packed up their camp and headed down the slope of the ridge. The darkness and heavy mist made it surprisingly hard to find the trail again. They knew they had gone too far to the east when they reached a cliff that plunged down into the darkness that obscured Lac Dinneshere. Eventually they managed to find one of the trail markers and were able to resume their journey to Caer-Dineval.
Everyone was on edge after the attack the day before. Pariah strained to hear any movement in the darkness, but she knew that the footfalls of crag cats on snow would be impossible to hear until it was too late. They weren't roped together this time, but the group stayed close as they traveled through the oppressive mist.
Using the duration of their light spells as a guide, it was about three hours after they left camp that they came out of the fog bank to see a clear sky awash with stars. The moon had long since set and the sun hadn't yet made its weak appearance, so the stars were dazzling. Even in the darkness, they could see the white slopes of Kelvin's Cairn a few miles off to their left. It loomed larger than when they'd seen it in Easthaven.
A distant roar caused them all to stop and look around nervously. "What was that?" asked Dejen.
"Yeti," Bjarnson said. "Too far off to be worried about. They'll be more of a danger as we get further north."
Pariah knew he was probably right. If there had been any wind, they wouldn't have even been able to hear the cry, but it still made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It sounded again but then there was silence.
"Let's go," Eberic said impatiently, and they resumed their trek.
The eastern sky started to glow as dawn came but, as usual, the sun itself didn't peek over the distant horizon. The clear air and weak light was a blessed relief to over a day of fog and blizzards. However, the cold was still as insidious as ever and travel was grueling. Their frequent stops ate into the day, and into Eberic's patience, but even he grudgingly admitted that arriving exhausted wouldn't be in anyone's best interest.
The sharp cliff edge far to their right softened into a steep slope that led down to the lake shore about a mile off. A couple of boats fished the waters, or at least that's what Pariah assumed they were doing. She could think of no other reason to be out on the lake past the sheet of ice.
The sun's glow inched its way around to the south and then the east, which was the direction they were headed as the road curved to follow the less steep part of the slope. Behind them, the moon rose, now a bit past its first quarter. The glow of the sun slowly faded into darkness, and the moon offered little illumination to replace it. The air remained clear, the wind still as the travelers crunched through the snow.
About two hours after sunset, they were finally able to see pinpoints of light in the distance. Past the lights, they could see the silhouette of the land rising into another cliff along the lake. Surmounting the cliff was Caer-Dineval, the small castle that gave the town its name. There were only a few lights there and the tower loomed in shadow as it looked out over the lake.
As they got closer they could see the town was barely that, just a collection of buildings lining a road that curved around the natural harbor and up the steep slope to the castle. Pariah estimated that, at its peak, there had been no more than two to three hundred residents. Now, the town showed the same pattern of dark, abandoned or even demolished structures she'd seen elsewhere so she doubted that even half that many were living here.
The streets were empty. No guard stood at the entrance. The road sloped down to their right towards the pier, which was frozen in like the one in Easthaven. There was also a building that looked like a watchtower on the shore, but there was no light and no smoke from a fire. To their left the road led up through what were clearly private homes towards a steep climb to the castle. A sign pointed to the left bearing the words "Uphill Climb", which Pariah thought was a strange thing to put on a sign. Of course the road was an uphill climb.
Looking down towards the pier, she saw a building much larger than a home that bore a sign reading "Dinev's Rest". She asked uncertainly, "Is that the inn?" There were no lights, no noise and no people around the entrance.
Eberic said, "Probably. Makes sense to build it near the pier."
They started walking down the road, but they hadn't gone far before they could see that the windows were boarded up and snow hadn't been cleared from the front. A weathervane shaped like a dragon was bent, hanging crookedly from the peak of the roof.
They looked over the deserted building in confusion. "We might have to squat in an empty house," Eberic mumbled.
Lulu said, "What about that one?"
She was pointing up the cliff. Down the road from the castle was another large building, but this one was lit up, more so even then the castle tower. It was built near the cliff, looking down on the harbor and the rest of the town. It might be an inn or it might just be the large house of the richest person in Caer-Dineval. "I guess it's worth a look," Pariah said. "They have to have some place for travelers, don't they?"
As they started back up the road, Bjarnson said, "Not necessarily. The towns are dying and it's not like the area gets a lot of visitors nowadays. As you can see," he nodded back down the road towards the abandoned inn, "a lot of businesses have closed and a lot more are hanging on by their fingernails."
They followed the road as it curved around the cliff above the harbor. The grade wasn't too bad at first, though they were all tired so it was slow going. At least the street had been cleared so they were walking on packed dirt for the first time in a couple of days. Most of the houses were dark, and most of the ones that had light leaking around the shutters were eerily silent. Pariah could hear muffled conversations from a few, which brought a little relief. She had started to think the entire town was abandoned.
As they reached the halfway point of the road's arc, the slope became steeper, and the road eventually led into a series of short switchbacks going up the steep hillside. One road branched off leading out of town into the darkness but the main path continued up the slope towards the large building at the top and the walled castle beyond. They continued doggedly up the slope until, out of breath, they arrived at the building.
The road continued behind the building towards the castle, the gate sealed shut and blocked by a portcullis. A path branched off towards the building's entrance, where a sign proclaimed "Welcome to The Uphill Climb". In smaller letters it proclaimed, "Finest Tavern on Lac Dinneshere". A single step led up to a brick patio with three sets of tables and chairs. The seats would give a great view of the lake and the docks, but would leave the diners in the bitter cold of the outside. From the dusting of snow on the furniture, it clearly wasn't a popular choice.
The entrance to the tavern was an oaken door with a stained glass window set into it. Pariah could hear voices and the clink of dishware from inside. Her mouth watered as the smell of fish chowder reached her. Zariel opened the door and they entered the building.
The inside of the tavern was dimly lit but warm. The air smelled wood smoke rather than the whale oil the other towns used, the odor coming from the fireplace in one corner where a low flame burned under a simmering iron cauldron. The smoke in the air made Pariah's eyes water, making her suspect their chimney needed to be cleaned.
The common room was small, with only four tables. Through a doorway with an open curtain was a private dining room with a larger table and eight chairs. The table was cluttered with books and stacks of paper held down with stones, as well as a few trinkets like a glass jar of an amber liquid and a wooden carving of a walrus.
Three of the tables in the main room were empty. At the fourth sat a human woman with fiery red hair wearing a pastel blue dress, a dark-skinned man with a scraggly beard, a dwarven woman wearing a tall fur hat and many tourmaline studs in her ear, and a middle-aged man who was quite handsome though at the age he was starting to lose his looks. All but the last had bowls of chowder in front of them, and all four had mugs.
The seated group looked up curiously at the newcomers. The middle-aged man gave them a curious look and a hesitant smile. "Welcome to the Uphill Climb. Newcomers in town?"
"Yes," Zariel said as she lowered her fur hood.
"You haven't brought a shipment of mead, have you?" he asked half-jokingly.
There was a pause in the group, and then Zariel said, "No," in a puzzled tone.
Before anyone else could speak, Eberic interrupted to say, "Has Torg's left town yet?"
The man was thrown off for a moment at his sudden question, but he said, "They left this morning. You can find them in Caer-Konig."
To the rest of the group, Eberic said, "We should stop to eat and then keep going."
"We're not going to travel anymore today," Bjarnson said with an impatient sigh. "We've been through this already. We need a rest. They'll still be in Caer-Konig tomorrow."
The innkeeper was watching in wonder as Lulu flew around. He said, "Help yourself to some stew. I’m sorry but we have no alcohol, only water and tea."
Dejen chuckled politely as he said, "A tavern with no alcohol?" while moving towards the stew pot.
The innkeeper grinned as he looked away from Lulu back towards the group. Everyone but Eberic had lowered their hoods and opened their coats. When the innkeeper's eyes fell on Pariah, he froze and his smile slowly faded. His brow furrowed as he stared at her. It was not a look of curiosity, but one of hostility. She found herself instinctively looking behind her to see if he was staring at something else, but nothing was there but the door. She looked back to see the others at the table were watching her suspiciously as well.
In a less friendly voice, he responded to Dejen's comment. "Ferry hasn't been up from Easthaven in weeks, and the road's too treacherous for merchants to come up here. We serve what we can find. Even the tea is likely to run out in a month or so."
The group looked at each other in confusion over the sudden change in atmosphere. Bjarnson said, "We need a place to stay. Do you have rooms here?"
"No," he said firmly.
The red-headed woman turned to him with a puzzled look. "What about-" she began.
"No!" the tavern keeper said again.
The dark-skinned man at the table said to the newcomers, "Aren't you staying at the caer?"
The question just confused the group more. Bjarnson said, "The caer? Has the castle turned into an inn?"
That in turn seemed to mystify the people still sitting at the table. The innkeeper asked Pariah, "Aren't you one of them?"
"One of what?" she asked, her temper starting to flare.
"One of the people in the castle."
Everyone in the tavern was confused now. Dejen and Zariel had started to serve themselves from the pot, but they now stood unmoving. Even Lulu, who normally explored new places energetically, had settled on one of the tables to watch the exchange.
"No," Pariah said as her anger faded into befuddlement. "I've been in Icewind Dale only five or six days. I've never been to this town before."
The innkeeper frowned for a moment, and then snorted and said firmly, "Two shards per person for the food, and then get out. Go see if they'll put you up in the castle, or go stay in one of the empty houses."
The group exchanged glances and then Pariah put a gold coin on the table in front of the man. They all got bowls of the fish chowder, which had potatoes and a little seaweed but no spices. They ate quickly, not even asking for water, in order to get out from under the innkeeper's steady gaze. The dwarven woman and the dark-skinned man put on their coats and left the tavern, but the red-headed woman stayed, sipping quietly at whatever was in her mug. The innkeeper stood near the fire, poking at it and watching the newcomers suspiciously.
Pariah and her companions were silent as well. Pariah was annoyed but not exactly angry. It seemed he didn't like tieflings, but it was odd that he backed down a little once she said she wasn't from the castle. The others at the table seemed focused on getting through their meal.
They finished quickly and headed back out into the cold, the innkeeper eying them suspiciously as they exited. The wind had started to kick up again, cutting across Pariah's face like knives, so she put her hood up as they started up the road towards the castle. The road was steep and they were breathing hard as they reached the gate.
The fortification was quite small. The front wall was a stretch of sixty feet of stone between two towers with conical roofs mounted by flags that shifted sluggishly in the wind. From what they had seen approaching the place, the side walls angled outwards so the towers in the rear corners were about twice as far apart. Vanthampur Villa in Baldur's Gate had been bigger than this fortification, though these walls were obviously a lot sturdier.
The robust wooden gates were about ten feet high with an iron portcullis lowered in front. The wall was another ten feet higher on either side of the gates, with an open parapet stretching between iron-banded doors leading into the second level of the towers. The towers each had three arrow slits. Dim light came from behind the arrow slits on the right side, but nobody challenged them as they approached.
Zariel called out, "Hello in the castle!"
The light behind the arrow slits moved, and the right door opened. A young human man with dark hair came out. He was carrying a lantern and he held it out over the parapet to look down at the newcomers. He wore leather armor but no furs or other cold weather gear, though the temperature didn't seem to bother him. Around his neck, a sword-shaped amulet of black crystal hung from a leather strap. He peered down and called out, "Hello, citizens!" in a cheerful tone, his breath fogging. "What can I do for you on this fine day?"
Pariah frowned as she examined him. The man from Torg's had stood in the cold without a coat. Had he worn a black pendant? She didn't remember one. Maybe it was just jewelry rather than a symbol or magic item, though it seemed to draw her eye unnaturally.
Zariel said, "We have heard you might be willing to put up travelers for the night."
"I'm so sorry," the man replied jovially, "but Speaker Crannoc Siever has taken ill so is not receiving guests. I believe the tavern has started renting rooms since Dinev's Rest closed."
"No," Zariel replied, "he's the one who sent us here."
"Oh, that is too bad," he said, seeming with genuine regret. "But, as I said, the speaker is sick so we cannot accept visitors at this time."
Bjarnson said to the group, "Let's just head back down and see if we can find an abandoned house for the night."
Remembering the tavern keeper's comment about the people in the castle, Pariah reached up and lowered her hood. "Are you sure we can't come in?" she asked.
The man's eyes widened as he saw her. He turned towards the door he had come out of and shouted, "Fel! Fel, come out here!"
"Coming," came a woman's cheerful voice from inside.
The door opened and a woman came out. Like the man she was dressed in leather, didn't wear anything for the cold, and had a black crystal sword amulet hanging around her neck. Unlike the man she had the horns and tail of a tiefling and, from her pale blue skin and thinner horns, she seemed to be of the same bloodline as Pariah.
"What is it?" the woman asked.
The other guard just pointed at Pariah. The woman looked down and had the same surprised reaction. "Well, what do you-" she began, and then she broke off. She and the man both raised their heads to stare into the distance. They remained like that silently for a few moments, and then they both bowed their heads and touched their pendants. The man headed back into the gatehouse as the woman said to the air, "We will see to it."
The sound of gears started and the portcullis slowly rose. Over the noise, the woman shouted, "Please go through the courtyard to the keep. Turn left in the great hall and you will be taken to the speaker's office."
Before anyone could respond, she hurried inside the guard house. As the portcullis finished raising, the wooden gates opened outward with a grinding of more gears.
Dejen said nervously, "Are we sure this is wise?"
Bjarnson said, "No. Something's wrong here. Let's head back into town."
Zariel looked thoughtfully through the opening gates towards the snowy courtyard beyond. "I agree something seems suspicious here, but that is why we should investigate. Let us be certain there are no dangers to the people of this town."
Pariah turned to the dwarf. "Eberic?"
He snorted. "I say we continue on to Caer-Konig. Sleep there."
She should have seen that coming, however she said, "You know the one guard at Torg's? The one who doesn't seem bothered by the cold? Seems like an odd coincidence seeing people like that here. Maybe they know about him, about the murders."
His face hardened. "That's a good point. Maybe we should ask some questions." He slapped a fist into the palm of his hand, an act that wasn't as threatening when done while wearing thick mittens.
She looked at Bjarnson who just shrugged, and Dejen who said weakly, "Well, I suppose."
Lulu, who had been fluttering around them, said, "I'll check the place out." She drew an imaginary cloak around herself and disappeared. The soft flutter of wings preceded them through the gates.
"Be careful!" Pariah hissed after her.
Bjarnson said to Pariah, "Maybe you should lead, since you seem to be the special one here."
She grunted at him, but stepped forward. Zariel advanced with her, the others close behind.
The courtyard was empty, although there were many sets of footsteps in the snow. A door led into the base of each tower and three wide stone steps led up to a tall double door set into the base of the two-story keep. The door was flanked by arrow slits. On the right side of the courtyard was a small, single-story building with a slanting roof. On the left side were two merchant stalls, though both looked long abandoned. Past them was a tiny building with a half-moon cut into the door. The distinct smell of animals filled the air, though Pariah couldn't see any at the moment.
She turned around to see the tiefling standing on the wall watching them. The woman gave her a smile and then motioned towards the keep. Pariah turned back forward and continued towards the double doors. As they neared the building on the right, she heard movement and sniffing from within. A dog whined.
Bjarnson looked that way, but Pariah said, "Let's not get distracted until we know what's going on." The dog hadn't sounded in pain, just curious about the newcomers.
He hesitated but continued following the group.
Pariah reached the double door and opened the right one. She motioned the others inside, taking one last look around the courtyard. She heard the sound of dishes inside the room as the others filed in.
"Hello," she heard Zariel say to someone.
A boy's voice responded, "Evening, missus."
Pariah came in after the others into the great hall. The room was lit by chandeliers, though only a few of their candles were lit so the light was dim. At the far end of the space, a stone staircase led up to balconies that hugged the left and right walls. Above the stairs hung a banner depicting a stone tower on a dark blue field. Under the tower was a red fish facing right. From the colors, it was clearly the same heraldry as on the limp flags atop the towers.
There was a closed door on the left wall and another on the right. There was an open doorway on the right wall farther down, though she couldn't see inside at this angle. From the looks of the hall they had just missed dinner, because one of the three long tables was cluttered with dirty dishes. A teenage tiefling boy with the same pale skin and thin horns of her kind was stacking the plates.
When he saw her come in, he gasped and stepped back, dropping his eyes. He let go of the dishes he'd been stacking, and they started to lean, clattering to the stone floor. Chips of stoneware flew, though it didn't look like any of the plates broke in half.
The boy looked back at Pariah, terrified. "I'm sorry, missus. I'm sorry," he said in a desperate tone. He fell to his knees and started to gather up the fallen dishes, his hands shaking so hard he could barely pick them up. He kept apologizing to her and was almost in tears.
Confused she said, "It's fine. It was an accident."
He shied back as she spoke, and knelt there, quivering. Watching him made Pariah angry, not at him of course but at the people who had instilled such fear in him. She wanted to comfort him, but suspected anything she did would make it worse.
Zariel stepped forward and said gently, "It's all right, young man." She squatted down and put a hand on his shoulder. "None of us mean you any harm." There was a soothing, musical quality to her voice that Pariah had never heard before. The boy calmed and looked up at her, still fearful but with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
"I'm Zariel. Who are you?"
He swallowed and said, "I'm Mere, missus."
"Hello, Mere. Nice to meet you." Over her shoulder, she said, "Lulu? Are you here? Come meet Mere."
Lulu faded into existence in the air behind Zariel, which made the boy jump, but then she grinned and waved at him and he hesitantly waved back.
Zariel said in that same soothing tone, "We are visitors. I think something's wrong here. Can you tell me what?"
He looked around nervously. "I d-don't know what you mean, missus."
"It's all right. I'm your friend. We all are. Including Pariah here." She gestured at the tiefling.
The boy looked at Pariah and then seemed to get scared again. She said, "Hey, I'm not with them." She motioned generally around them. "I'm new here. I'm actually really nice."
"She's really nice," Lulu said.
Zariel said, "So, can you tell us what's going on here?"
The boy looked nervously at each member of the group, and said, "Well, a couple weeks ago-"
The door on the left side of the room banged open. "Mere!" a man's voice bellowed. "Stop bothering the guests and get back to work, or it'll be the crop again!"
The boy whimpered and quickly started gathering up the dishes again. Zariel turned her head to face the newcomer. He was an older human man who stood with a bit of a hunch. He sneered beneath a thin mustache as he glared at the boy. Zariel said sternly, "We are talking to him!"
The man forced his sneer into a welcoming smile. "I just wanted to be sure the boy wasn't bothering you," he smarmed. "You know how troublesome those street urchins can be."
Pariah said sharply, "I used to be one of those street urchins."
The man's smile faded a bit as he got nervous. "Please, come this way. My master is waiting for you."
Pariah figured the master could wait, but also knew they needed to get to the bottom of this. Mere had already returned to his work cleaning up.
She took a breath, trying to calm herself. Whatever was going on, yelling at whoever was in charge wasn't likely to help them. "Are you the speaker?" she said to the man.
"Me?" he said in surprise, his greasy smile having returned. "Oh, no. I'm Thoob, a humble servant of our leader. The speaker has been taken ill, and my master, Kadroth, has graciously stepped in to keep the caer running until the speaker is back on his feet."
"Graciously," she echoed sarcastically. "Well, let's go see him, then."
"Come with me," he said as he turned.
He led them into a well-decorated sitting room with comfortable chairs, a small mahogany table, and a drink cabinet, the latter sadly empty at the moment. There was a fireplace but no fire. That's when Pariah realized the air was as cold in the keep as it was outside. Thoob was wearing normal if shabby clothing, and yet didn't seem bothered by the freezing temperature. She wasn't surprised that he also wore a sword-shaped crystal pendant.
Thoob opened another door and motioned them through with a slightly sarcastic bow and a fake smile. It led into an office a bit larger than the sitting room. Books and cabinets lined the walls, and in front of an ornate wooden desk was a large area with two chairs set out. Behind the desk sat a paunchy tiefling with blue skin, thin white horns and graying hair; he was currently puffing on a pipe. A fireplace in one corner was cold, and the tiefling was, of course, wearing no coat but was wearing a black sword amulet.
Pariah didn't like the pattern she was seeing. It looked like some cult had moved into the castle, presumably Aurilites, though these weren't like the Aurilites in Bryn Shander.
The man stood and gave them a broad smile, though his eyes were hard and calculating as he looked them over. "Welcome to Caer-Dineval," he said in a jolly voice as he came around the desk with his hand extended. "I have been asked to treat you all as honored guests."
Pariah ignored his hand and said, "Asked by who? Somehow I’m guessing it's not the speaker."
He seemed surprised by her comment. "Well, of course I am here to manage things until the speaker is back on his feet. We do not normally receive visitors, but I have been instructed..." He trailed off as his smile faded. "What are you doing?" he asked fearfully.
Pariah was confused by the question until she realized he wasn't talking to her. He dropped his pipe and the smoldering tobacco spilled out onto the floor. "Please, stop!" He brought up his hands to clench his skull as he squeezed his eyes shut. He fell to his knees, whimpering, "Please...stop...please."
The sound of a sword leaving its sheath cut through the air. Zariel stepped forward, her glowing blade held before her. "Be on your guard!" she cautioned. "The presence of a powerful fiend is moving into this man."
Pariah drew her saber as she watched Kadroth, who was now on his hands and knees, whining and shaking. Eberic had his shortsword out, but he and the other two were looking uncertainly at Zariel and Pariah rather than at the tiefling on the ground. Lulu drew her own tiny sword and flew to a corner of the room, watching the man.
Suddenly Kadroth's fit stopped and a calm fell over the room. He settled back on his heels and rolled his head around to stretch his neck, his eyes closed. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out; Pariah noticed his breath didn't fog in the icy cold of the office. He stood smoothly and extended his arms in another stretch with a satisfied groan.
Kadroth -- or whatever was in Kadroth -- opened his eyes to look around the room, stopping as he saw Pariah. His mouth spread into a sinister grin. In a cultured tone of voice he said, "Well, well, my faithful slave, so you have found your way back into my service."
A creeping horror crawled into Pariah's gut as the voice triggered a memory. Not the voice itself, but the tone, the words, the malevolence, the conceit. Facts started to assemble in her head. A powerful fiend. A gathering of tieflings of her bloodline in a land gripped by impenetrable cold. A cult. As the details wove themselves into a conclusion, she tightened her grip on her sword until her fingers hurt.
Through clenched teeth, she growled, "Levistus."
Notes:
When I was trying to figure out what module I wanted to write about, I had it narrowed down to Tomb of Annihilation and Rise of the Frostmaiden. When I realized there is a cult of Levistus baked into RotF, I knew this was the adventure I had to run. I've restructured the plot so that he and the Black Swords will have more of a role in the story.
I liked the idea of Bjarnson being able to turn into a crag cat, but they are definitely monstrosities with magical characteristics. Tundra cats are from Legacy of the Crystal Shard. They have the same stats as crag cats, but without the magical abilities like spell turning. However, they are CR 1 so he'll have to wait until level 8.
I talk a lot about butchering and skinning and I mostly have no idea what I'm talking about. I've done some research, and I've seen pretty much every episode of Alone and Survivorman, but I'm sure I get a ton of stuff wrong.
Zariel used a friends spell to calm Mere down.
Chapter 25: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot
Summary:
After arriving in Caer-Dineval, the group has discovered that the castle is inhabited by a cult that worships Levistus.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
Pariah and the plump tiefling currently possessed by the archdevil Levistus locked eyes. She glared at him, anger and fear swirling inside her. He watched her casually, the hint of a smile tweaking one corner of his mouth. She wasn't sure what to do, frozen in indecision at the moment. His schemes spanned decades. Was this something new, or an extension of what he'd done in Avernus? Both she and Zariel were here; was that part of his plan? She knew she and her companions had to leave, but she didn't know if they could get away. The fear started to overwhelm her and she had the sudden desire to examine her body for writing.
Was she really free of him?
"What does 'Levistus' mean?" Dejen broke into the heavy silence. "I don't know the word."
He seemed oblivious to the tension. Pariah glanced to the side to see that Zariel was in a defensive stance, glaring at Kadroth as intently as Pariah was, her blade bare. Bjarnson and Eberic held themselves hesitantly, unsure if there was danger or not, and Dejen seemed merely curious.
Pariah looked back at Levistus. She had to tell the group something, though she wasn't sure what. She settled for saying, "It's his name. The devil who is possessing Kadroth."
Confused, Dejen asked, "How do you know that?"
She pursed her lips. "We've met," she said brusquely.
Levistus stepped forward and she reflexively imposed her saber between them, its point directed at his heart. He looked down at it with an inquisitive expression. "Such a shabby weapon. So inferior to the one you used to use."
"It does the job," she said, threat heavy in her tone.
Again her comment just seemed to amuse him. He looked back at her and chuckled, "Killing this vessel won't harm me at all. However, it might upset the large number of heavily armed soldiers in the castle, and the countless others of my servants throughout the region." He spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Come now, what purpose will violence serve here? Can't we all be friends?"
She wanted to strike him down, but she knew he was right. At best it would mildly inconvenience him, and at worst get them all killed as his servants descended on them. She and Zariel exchanged a glance and then both reluctantly sheathed their swords.
"There, now," he said warmly. "Friends again. And I was your friend, wasn't I? Didn't I help you? Didn't I save your friends that tragic night? Didn't I later save your city of mortals? Thousands of souls spared the machinations of a treacherous archdevil." He glanced at Zariel and then back at Pariah.
"You did nothing that didn't benefit you," Pariah said. She waved around them. "Is this you? This winter?"
"Me?" he said in mock surprise. "Certainly not. This kind of chaotic outburst is the hallmark of the Frostmaiden. I am merely taking advantage of Auril's little tantrum for my own ends."
"Which are?"
He chuckled slightly. "My own," he emphasized. "But that doesn't mean you can't benefit from my benevolent nature again."
"Is that what this is?" she demanded, holding up a hand to let the frost crawl over her fingers. "Your benevolent nature? I'm not entering into an agreement with you. I refuse. Take your power back." She shouted, "I don't want it!"
"Temper, temper," he cautioned with a clucking of his tongue. "So angry for no reason. Why you are nearly the personification of winter's fury yourself. But, no, actually. That power isn't a gift from me, but rather something you've stolen." Before she could object, he put up a hand to forestall her. "Not that I mind. I'm impressed actually. You chose to sever our agreement," again he glanced briefly at Zariel, "and give up the great benefit of serving me-"
"I never served you," she snapped.
His eyebrows went up a fraction. "If that's the lie you need to believe, then so be it. Regardless, you chose to end our deal and, while I'm disappointed, I honor that. The fact you have managed to pilfer some small trickle of my power since then is amusing. Interesting even." He gave her a broad grin. "And possibly even beneficial to you in more ways than one. For, you see, once again our interests align. Once again can I help you achieve what you want."
"No!" Pariah said. "I want nothing to do with you. Leave this place!"
He took a step towards her and said very levelly, "Do you really think you can force me out of here?" A glance at Zariel. "Any of you?" His tone was still friendly but had a trace of steel to it.
Lulu suddenly flew between him and Pariah. "Stay away from her!" she shouted in her tiny voice.
Pariah was afraid he'd smack her down, as had happened a couple of times in Avernus when she had gotten too bold, but he just smiled. "Such a stalwart defender," he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "I quake in fear when faced with the might of Heaven."
That made Lulu angry, and Zariel said sternly to him, "You should fear the might of Heaven." In a more cautious tone she added, "However, Lulu, perhaps we should be cautious in this instance."
Lulu hmphed at him, but then flew over to land on Zariel's shoulder, holding onto her helmet for stability.
Levistus turned back to Pariah. "Hear me out." He stepped forward, though in a non-threatening manner. "You don't know all that is happening. Let me explain how cooperating with me will benefit you. How it will benefit all of Icewind Dale."
He had drawn very close to her. Even though he radiated friendliness, she felt threatened as he violated her personal space. However, she refused to give him the satisfaction of stepping back. He'd run into her if he took another step.
He stopped right in front of her, but then leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I won't even tell your companions the real identity of your friend." His icy breath numbed her ear.
He turned and walked away, moving behind the desk to sit in the chair. "Auril is not the only threat to the area. Things have come up from the Underdark, duergar at the moment but more will follow. They have started to scheme in the eastern cities like Caer-Dineval, and their actions could lead to the subjugation of all of the towns here."
Eberic, speaking for the first time since entering the office, said, "There are no duergar here. The dwarves would know. There hasn't been a major duergar incursion in Icewind Dale for decades."
Levistus turned to him as though noticing him for the first time. "Remaining unseen is something duergar do quite well, as I'm sure you know. You can be sure that they are here in small numbers now, but their forces will only grow if they are ignored. Don't you agree?"
Eberic scowled but didn’t answer.
Levistus turned back to Pariah. "They plan to launch a secret war, one that will be over before any can react. The people of Ten-Towns, the nomads who walk the plains, the dwarves of the valley, even the goliaths in the mountains will be enslaved by them. They marshal their army as more join them from the Underdark. Before long, they will be too many for your meager band to stop."
Pariah studied him through narrowed eyes. "And what's in it for you?"
"The duergar are inconvenient to my goals. Removing them benefits both of us." He gave her another unsettling grin. "In addition, although Auril's chaos is to my benefit at the moment, it doesn't fit my long-term plans. Once you have assisted me in pushing the duergar back, perhaps we can stop her madness and bring stability to an area that has seen great hardship."
She snorted. "Stability," she spat. "It seems it's only a choice of a different tyrant."
He waved towards the rest of the castle. "All who follow me do so of their own free will." He smiled at her. "Even you."
Her anger surged again but, before she could speak, he continued. "I'm afraid I must go." He held up a hand to examine it. The fingertips were white and blistered, the skin cracked, the knuckles bright purple. "My presence is quite hard on mortals, even those of my bloodline." He turned back to Pariah. "Don't answer me now. Stay, even if you make the foolish decision not to aid my crusade against the duergar and the Frostmaiden. You will be treated as honored guests." He smirked. "It seems a fair reward for your past loyal service."
He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He sighed out a long breath and his body relaxed. After a moment, his eyes flew open and his body jerked as though he had been woken from a sleep. He looked at the group arrayed in front of him with great fear. He fixed Pariah with an envious gaze. "Who are you?" he hissed. "Why do you have his favor?"
"Kadroth?" she guessed.
The paunchy tiefling nodded hesitantly. He winced and look down at his fingers in horror. He started to rub them together, his breath fogging as he blew on them.
Zariel pursed her lips and then approached the desk. Reluctantly she said, "Let me see your hands."
Kadroth held them out to her suspiciously, poised to snatch them back if she did something unexpected. Zariel reached out to cover his hands with hers. She whispered something in Enochian and a gentle glow coursed across his fingers. The swelling abated, though it didn't completely fade.
He breathed out a sigh of relief as he drew his hands back. "Thank you," he said in confusion.
Sternly, Zariel said, "What is the fate of the speaker. Do not lie to us!"
All of his arrogance gone, the man touched the crystal around his neck. He looked back and forth between Zariel and Pariah before saying, "We are holding him and the others of the caer prisoner."
"And they are all alive and safe?"
He vacillated. "Well, there were some casualties on both sides when we seized the castle. All of the defending soldiers were killed, but the staff and servants are alive."
"Take us to see them," she commanded.
"Hold on," Eberic said. "I have more questions for this son of a diseased goat."
Zariel hesitated but then motioned for him to continue.
The dwarf glowered at Kadroth and said, "Was he telling the truth about the duergar?"
Eagerly, the tiefling replied, "Yes. A squad of three tried to infiltrate the castle. We killed two and interrogated the third, but he wouldn't tell us anything. We've been searching for the others but our master wanted us to secure the castle first. Once we have a base of operations and grow our numbers, we'll start searching for them more aggressively."
Eberic crossed his arms. "The dwarves will want to know," he mumbled to himself. He asked Kadroth, "What about Sephek Kaltro? Is he one of you?"
"Kaltro?" he asked in surprise. "Oh, the man with Torg's? No, he follows Auril, not Levistus. Why?"
"Was he here yesterday?"
"I don't know about him personally but Torg's was here," Kadroth answered. "A couple of the faithful went out to buy supplies from them. I believe the caravan has left town though."
"Do you know anything about the Coldheart Murders?"
Kadroth was mystified. "The what?"
Pariah didn't think his ignorance was a ploy. Then again, she wasn't at her best right now. Her mind was whirling and she was barely listening to the conversation. All of the Sword Coast to wander and she ends up walking right into one of his cults. Maybe he'd even drawn her here somehow.
Fucking immortals.
"If that's all," Zariel was saying, "then we need to talk about the release of the prisoners."
Kadroth's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I couldn't do that."
"I think you will!" she said sternly.
He screwed up his courage and rose to his feet. "No! I will not go against the master's wishes. They will not..." He trailed off and then cocked his head as though listening. He looked over the group with a calculating expression. "After you deal with the duergar, we can talk about the fate of the prisoners. No sooner. That is his command."
"I think you need to release them immediately," she said in a threatening tone.
Bjarnson said to her matter-of-factly, "I think there are an awful lot of soldiers between us and the prisoners. While I am sorry for their fate, I'm not willing to die in a vain attempt to free them." To Kadroth he said, "However, perhaps we could be allowed to see them."
Kadroth and Zariel glared at each other, and then he said, "I suppose a brief visit with the speaker can be arranged. Thoob!"
There was a patter of footsteps and then the door out of the office opened to reveal the man's smarmy assistant. "Yes, sir?"
"Fetch two...no three soldiers. Have them escort these people to see the speaker." Reluctantly he added, "However, these people are our guests. After visiting the speaker, take them to the servant's quarters to rest. Karou and Mere can sleep in the kitchen. Bring our guests food and wood." He scowled and added, "Let Hethyl and Avarice know they will be staying with us." His voice was thick with contempt.
He gave Pariah a calculating look. "You are free to wander the keep," he said reluctantly, "but respect our privacy."
Thoob said, "Please follow me," as he led them out of the office. They went through the sitting room to the main hall, where some of the dishes had been cleared. The tiefling boy was nowhere to be seen at the moment.
Pariah stopped. "I need to go for a walk," she said. "You all go ahead."
Bjarnson said, "I'll come with you."
"No. I need some time to myself."
More firmly, he said, "I think someone should go with you."
She looked up, surprised at his tone, and was disappointed by what she saw. He and Eberic and Dejen were giving her that look. The same look the Forgotten had given her the night of the sahuagin attack after she'd made her deal with Levistus. The same look Rowan and Farima and Lythienne had given her after she had confessed her association with him.
Fear. Suspicion. A hint of revulsion.
"I'll go with her," Lulu said, flying over to her. "Is that all right?"
Bjarnson stroked his beard thoughtfully and said, "I suppose we can trust an angel."
But you can't trust a fiend like me, Pariah thought bitterly.
Thoob pointed to the closed door opposite the one they had just come out of. "The servants' quarters are in there. You can wait for us if you get back before we do." He turned and led the rest of the group towards the stairs at the back of the hall.
Pariah felt empty inside as she watched them go. She looked around the great hall but she wanted more solitude than that. She turned towards the double doors at the entry and went outside into the freezing night air.
The courtyard was empty as it had been before. The tiefling woman on the wall wasn't there, probably having gone back inside to get warm. Then again, none of them seemed to feel the cold at all, presumably a gift from Levistus.
She sat down on the top step and stared out across the snow-covered courtyard towards the gate, now closed. Her coat was still open, her hood down. The biting cold helped her focus, stay in the moment. The smell of animal from the small building to her left competed with the smell of the outhouse to her right. The night was deadly still with barely any sound reaching her ears.
Lulu sat down on Pariah's knee and looked up at her in concern. After a long silence, she said, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Pariah looked down at the little angel. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm not sure what to say. He's certainly the last person I expected to meet up here. I assumed he was out of my life." She sighed. "I mean I guess that's what I assumed. When the power started to come back, I was afraid somehow my contract was coming back, too."
"No," Lulu said firmly. "I don't believe that. Zariel and I talked about it and she...mostly believes that there's no way it could come back."
"Mostly?" Pariah said, raising her eyebrows.
Lulu put her hands in her armpits. Kithri had made tiny mittens for her, but they wouldn't stay on so Lulu's hands were bare. "Well," she said slowly, "she said that there was maybe a little possibility the contract could regenerate-"
"Talona's tits," Pariah spat.
"But," Lulu said firmly, "she also thinks it would have happened more quickly, in days or maybe weeks after it was destroyed. She...um...she has been thinking of asking if she could examine you to see if the contract was coming back, but you mortals are kind of weird about getting naked in front of other people. She wasn't sure if you'd be offended."
Pariah remembered Sylvira asking the same thing. It would probably feel less awkward having Zariel look. Pariah had inspected herself before as best she could, but hadn't had an opportunity since arriving in Icewind Dale. And it did seem like her power was growing. "Maybe we should do that," she admitted.
"I don't think she can burn it off again," Lulu said.
"Yeah, I thought of that too." Zariel wasn't powerful enough anymore, and she probably didn't have the healing to keep Pariah alive during the process anyhow.
Quickly Lulu added, "But she also said that same thing he said, that maybe you can just steal the power without a contract."
Pariah frowned, trying to remember his exact words. That power isn't a gift from me, but rather something you've stolen. She analyzed the sentence, searching for the lie.
"I don't want it at the price I paid before," she said bitterly. Then she added, "But I have to admit, it's been nice to feel that energy again. I was able to use my magic to help a lot of people before." She shook her head. "That's what scares me a bit, that he's tempting me. I want to believe that I've found the power without the cost, but there's always a cost."
She leaned back on her arms, her hands against the cold stone. "And then there is the matter of the people he's holding prisoner. He's taken over this town and I'm not sure the people even know. You saw how afraid Mere was of me, so that tells me they aren't being treated very well." She snorted bitterly. "Imagine that: devil worshipers being mean to people." More seriously she added, "We have to free them. We have to figure out what he wants here and stop him."
Lulu said, "What about the duergar?"
"I don't know much about them. There were a few in Baldur's Gate, but they were, I don't know, civilized. Citified. I don’t know what the ones from the Underdark are like. But if they really are trying to take over Ten-Towns, that's something to think about." She groaned. "And of course stopping Auril and the Everlasting Rime." She looked up into the night sky, thick with stars. Sarcastically, she said, "But then I'm the big hero who went to Hell and beat an archdevil and saved a city once. Yay me."
She wasn't sure why she'd never felt good about that. Of course she was glad they had managed to save some of the people and break Zariel's hold on the city, but the stories often leave out the ugly bits. It had been literally Hell, a plane of misery. As awful as things were here in Icewind Dale, she could confidently say she'd seen worse. She couldn't forget the suffering, especially the Hellriders on Haruman's Hill. They'd been freed, but decades of torture had to have left mental scars that would never go away.
And she couldn’t forget how badly things had gone with Lythienne, and that more than two years later they still hadn't healed that rift. Pariah could die on the tundra of Icewind Dale a thousand miles away without ever seeing her again.
"You would have killed Zariel wouldn't you?" Lulu asked softly.
Pariah was jolted out her reverie by the question. It took her a moment to remember the last thing she'd said. Lulu was staring down, not looking at her.
"I didn't think we had a choice. I saw it as the only way to save the people of Elturel."
"I know."
Pariah reached out to rub Lulu's back with her fingertip, avoiding her wings. "But I'm glad you were smart enough to find another way."
Lulu looked at her and smiled. "Me too." Confidently she said, "And we'll find a way out of this, too. We'll save the people here. We'll save Icewind Dale."
Her optimism, while naïve, made Pariah feel a little better. She'd always done her best to remain in control of her choices during her time with Levistus, even if that illusion of control often led her to do exactly what he wanted. "We'll do our best," she said.
No matter how she felt, this was the situation. As much as she hated to admit it, Levistus had been instrumental in saving Elturel. She had no idea how that had benefited him in the Nine Hells, but she could see how helping him now would solidify his control over the region, to the detriment of the locals. However, maybe playing one enemy against the other would be to their benefit.
And when the duergar were gone and Auril was defeated, well, then she could turn her attention on the archdevil and drive him out of Icewind Dale.
Notes:
The adventure has three plots, and Auril is only one of them. The module doesn't connect the stories and they could pretty much be run as three separate adventures. I've made an effort to join them into one greater plot, and Levistus helps tie them together. Unlike the Avernus story, his schemes would have a concrete negative influence on the locals, and that makes it harder for the group to justify accepting his help. I've had to spend a lot of time working out a reasonable path forward, especially for Pariah and Zariel.
Chapter 26: Bleak Forecast
Summary:
Pariah struggles with the knowledge that she has yet again been pulled into one of Levistus's schemes, and tries to find the best way to help the people of Icewind Dale.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
Pariah sat outside for a little longer, trying to get her emotions under control. Lulu eventually settled inside her furs so she could wrap her arms around Pariah's neck. They didn't talk. Pariah appreciated her presence, but Lulu had always struggled to understand mortal perspectives so wasn't necessarily the best person to talk to about this.
Gods, I wish Rowan was here, she thought to herself.
She was going to have to tell the rest of the group something, she just wasn't sure what. She didn't want to go into all the details of her history with Levistus, and she certainly didn't want to hint at Zariel's real identity. They were going to be uncomfortable enough with someone who had entered into a pact with a devil; they were not likely to trust someone who literally used to be a devil.
Pariah knew she'd have to go back inside, but not just yet. However, the cold from the stone she was sitting on was penetrating her furs, so she got to her feet and wandered over to the small shed with the sharply peaked roof. Well, it was small compared to the keep behind it, anyhow. The squat building was probably about the same floor space as Elva's cabin had been.
As she got close, a cacophony of barking broke out. She heard a high-pitched voice yelling, "Quiet! Quiet!"
She came around to the door where slots cut into the wood let her see inside. A lamp on one wall showed the interior was nothing more than rough wood walls and a floor of dirt and straw. The barking came from the half-dozen sled dogs who lived here, and the voice from a boy about eight years old who was desperately trying to calm dogs that were bigger than he was. There was also a sled on its side against the back, and harnesses hung on the wall next to it.
The boy looked up as she peered in through the slots in the door. His eyes widened and in a terrified voice, shouting to be heard over the dogs, he said, "I'm sorry, missus. I'll get them quiet."
"It's all right," she yelled. "I'm not one of the people here." She was trying to use a friendly voice, but the need to shout over the dogs made her sound angry and the boy just looked more scared.
She looked at the dogs and remembered what Bjarnson had taught her. After a moment of focus, she could feel their energy. They were noisy but not aggressive. Mostly they were restless and bored. They were curious about this new person, and frustrated by being penned in. They hadn't been on a run outside the castle in days. She didn't know how she knew that; it just seemed obvious.
The energy boiled around them. She reached out her hands and then slowly lowered them while saying, "Shhhhh." Her shushing was so quiet there was no way they could have heard her, but she could feel the energy subside as the dogs calmed. They sat on their haunches and watched her expectantly.
The boy looked at her with a mix of wonder and fear on his face. "How did you do that?" he asked.
"I have no idea," she admitted. "It was just...the thing to do. When's the last time they were taken on a run?"
"Couple o' days, missus."
She pursed her lips as she looked over the dogs and felt their restlessness. "A couple of weeks, more like."
"Well...yeah," he admitted. "They let me run 'em around the yard, but they haven't taken the sled out since these new folks showed up."
She looked the boy over. He was filthy and his clothes didn't look nearly warm enough for the weather, though he was pressed between two of the dogs at the moment. His brown skin and his features reminded her of Farima, so she guessed he was Calishite. She spotted a pile of rags in the corner that looked like a bed. "They make you sleep in here?" she asked in irritation.
The sharpness of her voice made the boy afraid again, and she quickly added, "Sorry. I'm not mad at you. I'm not one of these people." She opened her cloak. "Look, no black crystal. Fuck Levistus and anyone who worships him." Her open cloak also revealed Lulu, who flew out to stand with one foot on the bottom of one of the slots in the door, holding the wooden bars for balance.
The boy laughed nervously, confused both by her words and the angel that had flown out of her clothing. He seemed less afraid but still cautious. He said, "They don't make me sleep out here, missus. I like it. The dogs keep me warm and they're nicer than...well..." He trailed off.
"Than these assholes," she finished for him. "Like I said, I'm not one of them. My name is Pariah and this is Lulu. What's your name?"
"Alassar," he said hesitantly. "Though they mostly call me Dog Boy or Kennel Boy or just Boy."
"These new people," she asked. "How long have they been here?"
He looked up at the ceiling, thinking, before saying, "Little over a tenday, I guess."
"And what happened to the speaker?"
The boy's eyes dropped, and he reached out to put an arm around the dog next to him. "They say he's sick, don't they?"
"But you don't believe that," she guessed.
He shrugged, still looking at the ground. "Not my place to say."
"And everyone else? Where are they?"
He was starting to get nervous. "Well, Karou's still around. He's the cook. I dunno about the others. Karou says maybe they're dead. They kept him 'cause he can cook, and they kept me 'cause I’m too little to care about. Plus nobody wants to take care of the dogs. I fetch their food from the kitchen. I run 'em around the yard. I clean up their poo." Softly he said, "I just keep quiet and stay out of everybody's way."
Pariah remembered her early days on the streets of the Outer City. It's rough enough when you're on your own, and she hadn't been living in a cult of devil worshippers. "And Mere's still around, too," she said.
The boy shook his head. "Don't know him. He came with them. He doesn't talk much but he doesn't seem mean like the rest of 'em. Since I sleep out here and eat what the dogs eat, I don't see much inside the castle."
"They don't even feed you?" she asked, shocked.
"Oh, I could eat with the cook if I wanted, but I like to stay out here. And the dogs eat good."
She had to admit the dogs all looked healthy and happy, just restless. Their coats were thick, their eyes bright, and they looked ready to run a hundred miles. Sled dogs probably got fed better than servants anyhow.
Part of her wanted to go in and get to know the dogs, but she knew she should get back inside. "Alassar, I'm going to tell you a secret," she said in a conspiratorial tone.
"Oh?" he asked, looking interested.
"We're going to fix this place," she whispered. "We're going to figure out how to get you out of here. I promise."
"OK," he said with a little disappointment. "That'd be nice, missus."
He had no reason to believe her, so she wasn't surprised at his lack of enthusiasm. She said, "All right, Alassar. I'm going to go back inside. I'll say goodbye before we leave tomorrow, but we'll be back."
He ducked his head. "Yes, missus."
As she turned away, she heard him say, "Um, are you an angel?"
Pariah was surprised by the question before realizing that he was, of course, talking to Lulu.
"Yes," Lulu said. "I'm an asteri. I'm here to find out why the sun doesn't rise anymore."
"Oh," he said. "Never thought I'd see an angel. Till I was dead anyhow. Are we really going to get out of here?"
"I promise," she said emphatically.
He seemed happier at that promise than the one from Pariah, but that was all right with the tiefling. She hoped she really could do something for him and the others, just get them out of the castle into town if nothing else. She looked at the sealed gate and, unless there was some secret way through the wall, it would be hard to take out the prisoners without the agreement of the cult.
Could she trust Levistus to live up to his word?
She and Lulu headed back inside the keep. The great hall was still empty, though she saw the others had stacked their backpacks outside the door to the servants' quarters and she added hers to the pile. She considered going in and starting to get settled, but decided to head upstairs and find the others. She saw a soldier standing on the balcony to the left, looking in through the door on the second level, so she assumed that's where they were.
She could hear movement through the open doorway at the far end of the great hall. As she passed the door on her way towards the stairs she looked in to see a large kitchen with stone ovens and an open fire pit, though the fire was low at the moment. She saw Mere in there as well as a portly human man, both working with their backs to her.
The wide stone steps at the end of the hall led up to a wide landing. Narrower staircases lead up to the left and right to the balconies; she headed left.
The soldier she had seen was a human man, probably in his late twenties, with curly black hair and a two-day beard. Over his armor he wore a thin, brown cloak that bore the crude drawing of a rapier stuck in a cube of ice. She was able to recognize that only because she knew it was the symbol of Levistus. He also wore a pendant of black crystal shaped into a similar sword.
He was looking through the only doorway in the upper wall on this side. He turned as she approached and gave her a bright smile. "Good evening, sister. Glory of Levistus to you."
"Fuck Levistus," she said bluntly, enjoying his scandalized expression.
She could hear voices through the doorway and went past him into a narrow hallway. There were two more doors at the end of the short corridor, one on each side. The one on the right was open, and two more cultists stood outside of it: a human woman and a tiefling man.
She stopped and turned back to the soldier behind her. "You know who you serve?"
"Yes, sister. We serve Prince Levistus."
"Do you know who he is?"
"Of course. He is Lord of the Fifth, Prince of Stygia, The Frozen Prince-"
"All right, all right," she said tiredly, raising her hand to stop him. "So you know you serve a devil."
"Yes, sister."
"Stop calling me that," she said in irritation. "I'm not one of you. Fuck Levistus. But my question is this: why? Why do you knowingly serve an archdevil?"
She had made her deal, but sometimes that's what you did. Whether it's the leader of the local gang of thugs, the head of the Thieves' Guild, or the archdevil who offers to save your friends, sometimes you suck up to the bad people to survive. But she had never served him, never worshipped him, and she had trouble understanding why someone would.
"Because he saved my life," the man replied.
"How?"
He smiled at her interest in his story. "I used to be a fisherman in Easthaven. After the Rime hit and the docks all froze, the big ships didn't go out anymore. Instead we went out in smaller boats. I was out alone on Lac Dinneshere and had hooked a knucklehead. I wasn't braced right and I slipped out of my boat. The line wrapped around my ankle and I was pulled a long ways before I was able to cut myself free. My boat was long gone. I managed to swim to a nearby island, but that wasn't going to save me. I was soaked. There was nothing to burn. The cold sucked out my life and soon I lay there, nearly unconscious, knowing I was going to die."
His eyes glazed over and his voice became tinged with awe. "And then everything just froze. I don't mean like the cold; I mean time stopped. The waves stood unmoving on the surface of the lake. I couldn't move. I thought I was dead, but then I heard his voice. He offered to save my life if I promised to serve him for eternity. I agreed, and then I saw a light in the snow. Time started to pass again and, with the last vestiges of my energy, I managed to drag myself to the glow." He touched the amulet around his neck. "It was this crystal. I gripped it and felt the cold fade away and my strength return. I suddenly knew where my boat was in the dark waters, so I swam back to it, not feeling the chill of the water. I returned to Easthaven and he told me to wait. He would call me when it was time." His eyes refocused on her. "And then one day he told me to come to Caer-Dineval, where I met Kadroth and the others, and we took the castle for Lord Levistus." His smile broadened as he said, "Soon, we will spread his influence across all of Icewind Dale and everyone will know the benefit of serving him."
His story wasn't that different from Pariah's and, from what she'd learned about him, typical of how he operated. He came to people in crisis and promised them rescue. It's how he had recruited her, and she imagined most of these people had similar stories. She understood Levistus's comment about taking advantage of the Everlasting Rime for his own benefit.
She turned away and headed down the hall towards the other two cultists. Both of them gave her friendly smiles and the tiefling said, "Greetings, sister." He wore his sword amulet on a strap wrapped around his right horn.
"Fuck Levistus," she growled.
Their smiles faded a bit but returned brighter than before. She continued past them into the room.
It was a luxurious room containing a soft bed with warm blankets, and a roaring fire in the hearth. It was the first place she been to in the castle that was warm. Elaborate tapestries decorated the walls, and there was a soft, thick rug on the floor. Only two things took away from the lavishness: the crudely fashioned bars bolted across the lone window, and the faint smell of fecal matter that was probably coming from the gilded chamber pot in the corner that had its cover askew.
In addition to her companions, two other people were in the room.
One was a middle-aged man with wispy gray hair and an unkempt beard that looked about two weeks old. His face was haggard and he looked like he needed sleep, though he didn't actually look sick. Certainly his voice was strong as he sternly dressed down a younger human man who also wore a brown cloak with a badly drawn symbol of Levistus on the back.
"...and I'm telling you I want some privacy to speak with these people!" the older man was saying. He looked up as Pariah entered and said in a withering tone, "Oh, another one."
"Hey," she said quickly, "I’m not with them. Fuck Levistus."
He seemed nonplussed by her response for a moment, and then a calculating expression came over him. He motioned to her and said to the cultist, "Surely leaving me with one of these people should be enough for you."
"What do you mean 'these people'?" she snapped. "I told you I'm not with them."
The speaker gave her a look of frustration, which confused her. The cultist guard said impatiently to him, "I have been instructed never to leave you alone. If you wish to speak with them, then go ahead."
He sighed, "Very well."
Zariel said, "Lulu, come over here please." As the asteri flew over to her, Zariel said to the old man, "We have only just been apprised of the situation. We wanted to be sure you are being treated well."
He harrumphed. He gave a sidelong look at the cultist, and said with little enthusiasm, "They are treating me well enough. But I'm being held prisoner in my own bedroom. The one in charge -- Kadroth I think is his name -- won't tell me what they want from me."
While he had been speaking, Zariel whispered something to Lulu. She turned back to the speaker and said, "What of the others in the castle? Are they safe?"
His face clouded and again he shot a look at the cultist. "They tell me they are safe," he said in a skeptical tone. "I only know the cook is still around. I'd know his honey trout anywhere." He broke off with a look of bewilderment. He glanced over at Lulu.
Pariah said, "Alassar, too."
Speaker Siever kept staring at Lulu in confusion and didn't answer right away. After a moment he looked at Pariah, demanding, "Who?"
"Alassar," she repeated. At his blank look she added, "The boy who takes care of the dogs."
"Oh...uh...him. All right. But...the others I don't...know where they are. They say...they are safe...but I haven't...seen them."
Pariah didn't understand why his speech was suddenly so labored. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Fine," he said with a little too much enthusiasm, with a guilty glance at the cultist. "I'm just...tired I suppose...Need to...rest a bit."
Something was wrong, but before Pariah could say more, Zariel said abruptly, "Of course. We'll leave you, then. I'm pleased to see you are doing well." To the rest of the group, she said, "We should go to the quarters they offered us. I'm sure we could all use meal and a rest."
She started shooing everyone out of the speaker's room, much to everyone's confusion.
Pariah was the first one out in the corridor. She didn't want to question Zariel in front of the cultists, so she figured going to the servants' quarters was best. However the human woman standing outside the doorway was looking at her pensively. She said, "I think the soothsayer would like to meet with you."
"The soothsayer?" Pariah asked in confusion.
"In there," the woman said, motioning across the hall to the other door. "She has been waiting for a scarred tiefling who curses our lord's name. It seems that's you."
"Fuck Levistus," Pariah agreed. The woman's friendly smile slipped briefly into a scowl, but she didn't say anything more.
Pariah looked at the closed door in front of her. Soothsayer. Fortune teller. Speaker of fate. She was tempted to move on, but had come to accept that fate was not so easy to dodge. Besides, she wasn't looking forward to the upcoming conversation with the rest of the group about her past, so this was a way to put it off a little longer.
Pariah knocked lightly on the door. Almost immediately, a voice called out, "Come in."
Pariah opened the door to reveal another bedroom. It was furnished similarly to the room across the hall, but there was no fire in the hearth and the room was ice cold. In a rocking chair sat an ancient dwarf woman with wrinkled brown skin and a long white braid across her shoulder. She had a peg leg, and wore the usual sword amulet around her neck. On a small table next to her was an untouched plate of fish covered in milk.
Pariah entered, the others coming in behind her, but the dwarf woman's squinting, gray eyes focused only on the tiefling. "Close the door," she said in a creaky voice. She sighed sadly. "I've been dreading this moment."
"Why?" Pariah asked suspiciously.
"Because Levistus told me that the day I met you was the day I die."
Pariah crossed her arms. "Did he say how?"
With a hint of a grin, she said, "I don't know. Maybe you are going to kill me."
Pariah was already struggling with a lot of emotion, and couldn't stop herself from saying, "Are you planning to do something that makes me want to kill you?"
The dwarf woman chuckled. "No, but people often blame soothsayers for their predictions."
Pariah didn't particularly want to hear anything that came from Levistus, but she said, "So what do you want?"
The soothsayer started rocking in her chair. "I'm Hethyl Arkoran. I've served the Prince of Stygia for almost two hundred years, spreading his prophecies to both believers..." She smirked. "...and heretics. I am the conduit for his wisdom and, when I die, I will continue to serve him in Hell."
Pariah snorted. "Hell isn't the vacation spot you might think it is."
Hethyl raised her eyebrows as she peered intently at Pariah. "You've been there," she said in wonder. "In his service."
"I never served him!" she barked.
The dwarf continued to watch her curiously. "So you say, but that is your fate: the hero destined to fight evil in the service of evil. That was your role before, and that is your role now. You will struggle in your chains, but you will destroy evil in his name."
"All right, that's enough, I think," Pariah said and started to turn away.
"What evil?" Zariel asked. Pariah forced herself to stop. Whatever this oracle had to say, maybe it would help.
Hethyl took her eyes off of Pariah to look at the rest of the group, finally resting her gaze on Zariel. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, you are that one. The one who lost. The one who is lost."
Zariel's face clouded. "What evil?" she repeated.
Hethyl looked away and reached up towards the crystal hanging around her neck. She lifted it before her eyes and gazed into it. "This is it. My last prophecy. After all this time, it is finally over."
"What evil?" Zariel asked a third time.
Continuing to gaze into the amulet, the dwarf said, "The darkness that comes from below. The army that marches. He leads them at the behest of another, though he doesn't know the one he follows. On a mountain, his fortress. Within, the fire of the still-beating heart of a dragon. There he forges the great weapon that will conquer the land."
She raised her gaze from the pendant to look at Pariah. "You must face him, defeat him, for the good of my lord and for the good of Icewind Dale. This path leads to your end, and yet follow it you will, follow it you must. From death will come your life, your victory, his victory."
Hethyl slowly lowered the small black sword back to her chest and laid her hands on the armrests. She stopped rocking and looked unseeing into the distance. "And so it ends," she said as she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.
She sat unmoving in the chair. The group looked at each other uncertainly until Bjarnson stepped forward, slipping his glove off his hand. He reached out to touch his fingertips to her throat. After a moment, he held the back of his hand in front of her mouth.
He turned back to the group. "She's dead."
Notes:
I kind of wanted to call this chapter "The Future's So Dark, I Gotta Wear Goggles of Darkvision" but that seemed a little wordy ;)
The map of the town of Caer-Dineval and the map of the actual caer itself don't match up. Not only does the shape of the fortress on the two maps not match, but gate is on the north side on the city map but the south side on the castle map. Come on, people!
The module has the speaker sitting on the chamber pot when the party arrives. I assume he would have had time to hurriedly finish his business before Pariah arrived. I also accidentally put him in Kadroth's room, but putting him here ended up making it easier to get to Hethyl.
I vagued up the soothsayer's predictions because the book has her give them clear details, which isn't how prophecy works in fiction! Of course, the comments about Pariah were my own additions.
Chapter 27: A Captive Audience
Summary:
Still stuck in the cult's lair, a soothsayer has given Pariah a dire warning before quietly passing away.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
The elderly dwarf woman sat unmoving in her rocking chair. One might have thought she was just getting in an afternoon nap if Bjarnson hadn't checked her pulse and found nothing. Pariah had questions for the seer, but they would have to go unanswered. She wondered if the guards would blame them for her death. There were no marks on the body, but there were magics and poisons that could kill without a trace.
Dejen said, "What should we do?"
Levistus probably knew the truth. Whether he'd tell the cultists or not remained to be seen. There wasn't much they could do either way.
Lulu interrupted hesitantly. "Um, I should tell you what Crannoc told me."
"Crannoc?" Pariah asked her.
Lulu pointed towards the door. "The speaker. I talked to him with my mind. I could tell he didn't want the guard to hear him."
Pariah's mind was still focused on the dead dwarf, and it took her a moment to reorient on what Lulu had said. "You did?" She nodded thoughtfully. "That was really smart. Was that why he was talking so strangely?"
"I think so. He said he was having trouble talking to me and to the rest of you at the same time."
Zariel asked, "What did he tell you?"
"Well, he didn't know too much. These people call themselves the Knights of the Black Sword. They came a couple of weeks ago, claiming to be here to discuss fishing disagreements with Easthaven and Caer-Konig. He knows they killed the castle guard. He thinks the servants are still alive but he hasn't seen them. He hasn't been allowed out of his room since they got here but, if they do have prisoners, they are probably being kept in the cistern under the northeast tower. He was very grumpy and insisted we free him immediately."
While Pariah was trying to remember which way was north, Zariel asked, "How many cultists are here?"
"He's not sure. Six came at first, but then one of them managed to get to the gatehouse and open the gate to let more in. He figures at least ten, including a couple of spellcasters. He knows they are led by Kadroth and that they worship Levistus, but that's about it. And he's heard them mention 'the albino', who is someone they are all afraid of, even Kadroth."
Zariel paced back and forth. "Ten or more enemies, entrenched, with spellcasters. Those are not good odds." She looked at Pariah. "Choose our battles, eh?"
Pariah furrowed her brow in thought. "Plus they have hostages they could use against us. Levistus said there were more of the cult spread throughout Ten-Towns. I don't want to leave the town under their control, and I certainly don't want to leave any prisoners behind, but..." She trailed off with a shrug.
Eberic seemed undecided. "I want more information about those duergar he mentioned. We do get occasional intrusions from the Underdark, so I'd be very interested to know if the gray dwarves really are invading. Plus, I still have business in Caer-Konig." He hesitated. "I don't mean to dismiss the fate of the prisoners, but I'm not sure we can do anything for them. Maybe if we had a better idea of their numbers."
Zariel was still pacing. "I feel the evil here is the greatest threat to Icewind Dale, and should be our highest priority. But I agree it would be better to know how many foes we face."
Lulu said, "I could look around. I can be sneaky."
"That might be our best plan," Zariel said. "Perhaps tonight after everyone has gone to sleep you could scout the keep."
Pariah was worried about Lulu getting into trouble, but also knew she had proven herself in combat more than once. Of course, that was back when she could turn into a giant mastodon.
Her eyes fell on the plate of fish and milk. It didn't look that appetizing -- she guessed it had been there since morning -- but it reminded her that she hadn't eaten in a while. "Let's go downstairs and eat. Maybe get out of this cold."
The others seemed amenable, but Eberic grumbled, "There's something we need to talk about." He turned a pointed glance on Pariah. "You."
"Me?" she asked in surprise.
"You," he confirmed. "And your history with this devil."
She let out a heavy sigh. She knew that had been coming, but hoped to put it off a little longer. "All right, that's fair. But it's a long story and I'm hungry, so let's go get supper first."
He didn't seem happy, but nodded.
Dejen had been staring at the body for most of the conversation. In a whisper he asked, "What are we going to tell the guards?"
Pariah looked over at Hethyl. "I hadn't planned to tell them anything. Just say she was fine when we left. No reason for us to get involved."
And good riddance to her anyhow.
Nobody seemed to object, though Zariel looked like she was about to. However, she didn't say anything so Pariah took that as agreement. Impatient to get out of the room, she headed towards the door.
The tiefling man and human woman were waiting for them in the hallway. Crannoc's door was closed. Pariah turned and headed towards the balcony overlooking the hall, where another cultist waited. The three guards escorted them back into the great hall and then headed out the main door to get back to their duties.
Zariel headed to the open door that led to the kitchen. "Excuse me," she said. "Would it be possible to get something to eat? There are five of us."
Pariah was curious about the kitchen but, considering how people had reacted so far, she hung back from the doorway. She heard a man's voice say dully, "All right. I hope you like knucklehead because that's all we have now that the ferry isn't running."
"That would be delightful," Zariel said politely.
Bjarnson had moved up behind her and was looking into the kitchen with interest. "We have some crag cat meat, and I have spices and other supplies, so maybe I could help out?"
The unseen man made a non-committal noise, which was good enough for Bjarnson. He fetched the bundles of meat and his pack from in front of the servants' quarters and took it all into the kitchen.
Pariah ambled over to the door leading to the quarters and opened it to look inside. It looked kind of like an army barracks: six simple beds with footlockers at the base of each. Thick quilts covered each bed. An oil lamp on the wall cast dim light and a fire burned in the fireplace at the far end of the room. A wave of warm air came out into the freezing cold of the great hall.
She mentally compared the number of beds to the number of people and realized they were one short. She tossed her pack on the nearest bed and headed back out, closing the door to keep the heat in. Other than Bjarnson, the others had taken seats at one of the long tables. Pariah poked her head into the kitchen to see Bjarnson and the cook working over the stove, and Mere putting a set of mugs on a tray that held a stone pitcher. She heard the sizzle of meat cooking and the smell of fish was in the air.
Pariah said, "Are you two the only ones sleeping in there?" She pointed towards the servants' quarters. "I don't want to kick you out of your beds."
The cook started to say, "We'll sleep here in the kitchen. It's-" He caught sight of Pariah and broke off.
She sighed, "I'm not one of them. Fuck Levistus."
The cook paused and then finished, "It's warm in here."
She looked around and didn't any bedding, even a pile of rags like she'd seen in the kennel. "Look, I'll find somewhere else to sleep. Maybe out in the kennel with Alassar." She also thought about the soothsayer's room but that might be a bit rude.
"Who's Alassar?" Bjarnson asked over his shoulder.
"The kennel boy. He sleeps outside with the dogs." Quickly she added, "He says he prefers it out there."
He turned to look at the kitchen wall in the direction of the front door. "No reason you should sleep out there. I'm used to sleeping outside."
"Yeah, but I don't feel the cold as much as humans."
The cook replied, "We've been told to treat you all as honored guests. If we let you sleep outside, there would be...trouble."
Pariah's mouth tightened, though of course she wasn't mad at the cook. "All right," she said reluctantly. "There will be one bed free so at least one of you could sleep in there."
He insisted, "We'll be fine in here."
Mere picked up the tray and hesitated as he looked towards the doorway that Pariah was now blocking. Realizing the conversation was over, she turned away and took a seat at the table facing the kitchen. The tiefling boy came behind her and set the tray on the table. As he passed out the mugs, he said, "Sorry but all we have is water. The mead is all gone and Kadroth keeps the wine for himself."
"That will be fine," Zariel assured him.
He started filling the mugs from the pitcher. Pariah asked him quietly, "So how many of them are in the castle?"
He jumped slightly, spilling water on the table. He gasped and said, "Sorry, missus. Sorry!" He snatched a dirty rag from a pocket and started mopping up the small spill.
"It's fine," Pariah assured him. "Look, none of us are going to hurt you. I just want to understand what's going on here."
Mere looked at her nervously and then at the others. "Well, there are a dozen or so of the regular ones plus three of the special ones."
"Special ones?"
He nodded as he finished wiping the table and went back to pouring their drinks. "The regular ones are just thugs, but the special ones have some magic. Plus of course there's the albino."
"The speaker mentioned that," she said. "Who's that?"
"Not sure," he said, pouring the last drink. He stood there holding the pitcher. "She's like us," he waved to indicate him and Pariah, "but all white. And she's a wizard. One of the guards takes her meals down and she almost never comes up here."
"Down where?"
Again he looked around. He whispered. "She is down in the cistern."
Zariel said, "The cistern. Is that where the other prisoners are kept?"
He gave her kind of a strange look but then nodded. "Yes, missus. At least that's what they say."
"You don't believe them?"
He shrugged. "The guards take down some scraps now and then. I know that's not for the wizard, but it's not much to keep more'n a couple people alive."
Pariah asked, "How many of the castle residents are missing?"
"Dunno, missus. From talking to cook, there were twelve guards and five other servants. I know a bunch of the guards died but I don't know about the others." He started to get nervous. "Um, look, missus, cook is going to want me back in the kitchen."
"All right," Pariah said thoughtfully. She added sincerely, "Thank you."
He ducked his head and started to hurry back towards the kitchen, but before she could get there Pariah thought of something and called out, "One more thing." He turned back hesitantly and she asked, "How many tieflings?"
"Well," he said, turning to look at the ceiling while he thought about it. "Three of the regular ones, two of the special ones, and the albino."
"OK," she nodded. "Thanks."
He turned away but, as he did, Bjarnson came out of the kitchen carrying a stack of stoneware plates. The boy looked up at the red-headed man who towered over him, and then he turned back to Pariah. "Plus the goliath."
Pariah wasn't sure what to make of that, but Bjarnson stopped and said, "There's a goliath here?"
"Yes, sir. She generally stays in the southwest tower."
"Do you know which clan?" he asked in concern.
Mere shrugged. "Sorry, sir. Didn't even know they had clans. Thought they were just wild giants of the mountains."
Bjarnson scowled at him and then resumed walking to the table, deep in thought. The tiefling boy hesitated for a moment and then, realizing the conversation was over, hurried back into the kitchen.
Pariah asked, "Does clan matter?"
"Hmm?" Bjarnson said in a distracted tone as he set the stack of plates on the table. "Oh, I suppose not if they are here, though I'd hate to think it's one of the Thuunlakalaga clan." Then, in response to Pariah's mystified expression, he added, "The goliaths in the area belong to one of two clans. The Thuunlakalaga are friendly to outsiders and trade occasionally with the Reghed tribes and Ten-Towns. The Akannathi are more isolated and hostile to strangers."
Although Pariah wanted to know more, they had more immediate problems. With Mere and Karou, the cook, in the kitchen, she leaned forward to talk to the others in a low voice. "Lulu, I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to snoop around if there's a wizard down there."
"Oh, I'll be fine," the angel assured her. "I'll be invisible."
"Wizards can see invisible things," Pariah cautioned her.
"It doesn't matter. She can't kill me or anything."
Pariah furrowed her brow. "She can't kill you?"
"No, angels can't die outside of the Seven Heavens. Remember when that devil killed Ezekar in Hell? Farima was able to call him back because he just went back to Mount Celestia."
Dejen broke in. "You saw a devil kill an angel in Hell?" he asked Pariah incredulously.
Everyone was staring at her now and she stammered as she tried to think of a short answer to that question. "Well, sort of. It's a long story," she said dismissively, futilely hoping they'd change the subject.
Eberic scowled at her and said, "I think that's a story you need to tell us. The story of why you know a devil. And why you were in Hell."
Pariah glanced towards the kitchen again. "I will," she assured him. "Later, when we have some privacy."
He looked unsatisfied but didn't say anything.
The cook came out carrying a platter of steaming fish. Mere rushed along behind him with forks, knives and a bowl of salt. As the cook put the platter down, Pariah was surprised to see the fish were cut into steaks rather than fillets. "How big are these trout?" she asked.
"Four or five feet long," he said.
That's not what she thought of when she heard the word "trout" but then she remembered the stuffed "Ol' Bitey" at the Northlook, which had been over five feet long.
"I thought we were having crag cat meat," Dejen noted as he took a serving, though he didn't seem disappointed.
The cook and Mere had already headed back to the kitchen. Bjarnson said, "Karou wants to marinate it first. They'll serve it for lunch and supper tomorrow."
"We won't be staying that long," Eberic said firmly.
The fish was dusted with a nutty coating and tasted slightly of berries, though it was overcooked and tough. The only accompaniment was a small slice of goat cheese. She knew the tavern keeper had complained of a lack of supplies, and obviously the castle was having the same problem. Still, she was hardly one to complain about a mediocre meal.
They didn't talk much while they ate. Mere and Karou were in and out of the great hall as they cleaned and went about their other chores, and the group was reluctant to talk about anything important in front of them for fear they might tell the cultists.
Karou wasn't much of a conversationalist. He radiated a resigned listlessness and went about his duties without any enthusiasm. Questions were met with variations on "I wouldn’t know about that."
Mere was a little more outgoing. He seemed to be starting to relax around Pariah, and she was glad about that. While he was stacking up their empty plates, she said, "Mere, sit down for a bit. I want to ask you some more questions."
The tiefling boy looked towards the kitchen, and said, "I don't know, missus. I still got work to do."
"Just a few questions," she assured him. "I'm sure cook won't mind." Then again, she didn't want to get him into trouble.
Bjarnson said, "I'll go keep him busy," as he climbed to his feet. Without much enthusiasm he added, "He tells me he knows over a hundred ways to prepare knucklehead trout. Maybe I'll learn something."
"Really?" said Dejen, apparently with genuine excitement. "A hundred ways? I have to hear this." He joined Bjarnson and they went into the kitchen.
Pariah motioned again to a seat and Mere took it hesitantly.
Zariel stood and looked towards Kadroth's office. "I think I'm going to ask our host if I can visit the prisoners. I would like to see if they are being well cared for." From her tone, it was clear she didn't think they were. She headed towards the door, Lulu flying along with her.
Eberic stood as well. "Think I'll go for a smoke," he said as he pulled his cloak closed. He gave Pariah a hard stare and said, "You still owe us a story."
"I know, I know," she sighed. "Later tonight."
He snorted and then started towards the main entrance. As he headed out, Pariah could see a thick fog had gathered in the courtyard outside. She turned back to Mere.
She hadn't meant to clear out the place like that, but wasn't sorry she was getting a little one-on-one time with him. Looking for something to break the ice, she said, "So, you obviously aren't one of these crazies, and you aren't from the castle, so how did you get here?"
"Oh," he said, seeming surprised at the question. "Well, Kadroth found me begging on the streets of Bryn Shander. He offered to take me in, probably cause of, well, you know." He waved vaguely at his face. "He said we were blood of someone called Levistus and should look out for each other." He shrugged. "I didn't have no one to take care of me and just wanted a warm place to sleep, so I figured why not?"
"There sure are a lot of us up here," Pariah said.
His brow furrowed. "There didn't used to be. I never met someone like me, though I heard of a couple. There seem to be more lately."
"So your parents weren't tieflings?"
Mere shook his head. "No, they was human."
"They kicked you out?" she guessed.
"No," he said, shocked. "Of course not. Who would do that?"
Pariah was taken aback by how offended he was by the question. She stammered out, "Well...mine, for one."
He stared at her, stunned. "That's awful, missus. But, no, my parents was wonderful." Sadly he said, "But my mum died when the Ice Witch attacked the city when I was around four. And then my dad died from fever about three years ago, so I was on my own."
She estimated Mere was fourteen or fifteen now. "Nobody took you in?"
His eyes dropped. "Well, no. There was some talk about it but nobody stepped up, and suddenly someone came and said I had to leave the house and I was on the street."
"Did you find other street people? Get into a crew?"
He picked up a fork and started scraping pieces of fish skin off one of the plates and onto another. "Sort of. There weren't too many of us and most of us looked out for each other. There was one called Beldora who looked out for all of us. But then they...most of 'em died too. Cause of the cold, you know."
"I'm sorry," she said. Wanting to change the subject, she asked, "So you've been around the castle for a couple of weeks, then. Do you know of any way out other than the front gate?"
He continued gathering all the scraps onto one plate. "If there was, missus, I would have already left. Kadroth keeps trying to convert me, to make me give myself to Levistus, but that seems like a dumb idea."
"It certainly does," she said sourly. Hesitantly she asked, "Have you heard him?"
Mere looked up from his task, puzzled. "Kadroth?"
"No. Levistus. Has he said anything to you." She tapped the side of her head.
"Oh, no, missus," he said. "The others all hear him, but he hasn't talked to me."
"Good," she said firmly. "Don't listen to him if he does."
He had stacked the plates by now and he said, "Um, missus, I really do need to get back to work."
"Of course," she said. "Just one last question. Do you know the name of the wizard who lives down below?"
He shook his head. "Mostly people call her the albino or the wizard or...less polite things. I don't think they like her." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "I think maybe I've heard people call her Avarice."
Pariah remembered Kadroth using that name, so that seemed right.
She reached out to put a hand on Mere's arm. Her hand was bare and he shied away a little from her scarred flesh. She said very sincerely, "We're going to find a way to get you all out of here."
"That'd be nice, missus," he said with the same tone of polite skepticism she'd heard from Alassar. He stood, ducked his head at her, and took the dirty dishes towards the kitchen.
Pariah sighed and drained her mug of the last of the cold water. She was mulling over the things Mere had said when the door behind her slammed open, causing her to jump. She turned around to see Zariel stomping out of Kadroth's sitting room, her face twisted in fury, pulses of divine energy skittering across her skin.
Notes:
The goliath cultist was just a random roll when I was determining everyone's race and gender.
I find it funny that I automatically gave Mere the clichéd "Dickensian orphan" accent. I'm not sure why he talks like that when nobody else in Icewind Dale does. He's a character from the module, but I've expanded his backstory because I figured Pariah would relate to him, one tiefling orphan to another.
The energy field around Zariel is cosmetic at the moment, a foreshadowing of the Radiant Consumption that scourge aasimar get at level 3.
Chapter 28: A Lesser of Evils
Summary:
The party has discovered dark secrets in Caer-Dineval, and Zariel has just stormed out of Kadroth's office in a fury.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
Radiant energy swirled around Zariel as she stormed across the great hall. Lulu flew after her, keeping her distance and watching the woman with an expression of concern.
Zariel came up to Pariah and snarled, "That...that...fiend!"
"Which fiend?" Pariah asked. "Kadroth or Levistus?"
The other woman stammered for a moment and then said, "Both!"
"What happened?"
Bjarnson and Dejen had come out from the kitchen because of the noise. Mere peered out from the doorway.
Zariel took a step towards Pariah, who reflexively shied away from the storm of energy. Zariel looked down at herself, seemingly seeing the light for the first time. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and blew the breath out slowly. As she calmed herself, the swirling radiance faded away.
"Forgive me," she said in a calmer voice, though her face was still stormy. "That devil is just infuriating."
"What happened?" Pariah asked again.
"I asked him about the fate of the other prisoners and he said they were safe. I asked to see them and he refused. I insisted, but the more I did, the more intractable he became. He said if we find out more about the duergar, then perhaps we can talk about the fate of the prisoners. I fear that might be too late."
Pariah opened her mouth to mention that they could find out more after Lulu scouted the place, but she glanced over to see Mere eavesdropping. Instead, she motioned to their quarters and said, "Let's start getting settled in. We can talk about our next step."
Zariel looked unsatisfied but said, "Very well."
The others started towards the room. Pariah said, "I'll go shout for Eberic."
Mere came up to Pariah, looking after Zariel as the group entered the servants' quarters. He said in a whisper, "She's magic, isn't she?"
The question was unexpected, but then Pariah remembered how the other woman had looked when she had come out of Kadroth's sitting room. "The lights? I'm not sure what those were. I haven't seen them before. But she's kind of blessed by Lathander." When the boy turned a puzzled look on her, she said, "Or Amaunator?"
"Oh, him," Mere said in understanding. "The priest in Bryn Shander was always nice to me." He looked again towards the door and said, "But there's something special about her. I can feel it. I could feel it before when she talked to me. Something in her voice was magic, like talking to an angel." He looked embarrassed. "Sorry, missus. I guess that sounds dumb."
"No, not at all. She does have a sort of divine charm about her."
He gave her a perfunctory smile and headed back into the kitchen.
Pariah started towards the front door, but it opened before she got there, and Eberic came in smelling of tobacco smoke. "Come on," she said to him. "We're gathering in the room to talk."
They joined the others and closed the door behind them. Each had claimed one of the six beds; Pariah still felt bad about kicking the servants out. Bjarnson was stoking the fire with more wood and the flames were slowly growing. The room was still chilly but should be warmer soon.
As they sat on the beds, Pariah said, "Tonight after they are all asleep, Lulu can scout around. Maybe she can find the prisoners."
Eberic said, "That might be tough. I took the chance to wander around while I was smoking, looking for flaws in the wall and such, but it all seems solid. I know this place still gets hit by the occasional orc raid so they've kept up the defenses over the years."
He pointed towards the door. "I did poke my head into the northeast tower, since that's where the prisoners are supposed to be. They chased me out but I got a look. Cots and footlockers, an unlit brazier, and two guards. A stairway up to the second level, and probably another guard or two up there keeping watch."
He leaned forward. "However, I saw two interesting things. One was a trap door in the floor, probably leading down to the cistern the speaker mentioned. That's going to be where the prisoners are." He sized up Lulu. "It's a lot of weight for a wisp of a girl like you."
"I'm stronger than I look," Lulu insisted. "I can open a stupid door."
Eberic looked skeptical but continued. "The other thing I saw was a door in the wall. It's probably supposed to be hidden, but I know stonework and it was easy to see. From where it was in the wall, it must lead into Kadroth's office."
Lulu said, "You think I should go in that way?"
"At first, that's what I was thinking. But then I remembered you can fly and turn invisible, and there are probably arrow slits or small windows on the top floor. You can probably just go in there, sneak down and go through the trap door." He gave her an appraising look. "Or I could go with you. That might be best."
"Can you turn invisible?"
"No, but I'm pretty quiet.'
Lulu thought about it but said, "No, I'll go by myself, later when everyone's in bed. I can look in their minds and make sure they are really asleep. Then I can go down and find the prisoners."
"If you're sure," he said reluctantly.
Pariah said, "She really is very capable."
Eberic turn to her, and his attitude turned suspicious. "With that done, what about you?"
"What about me?" Pariah asked in confusion. "You mean go with Lulu?"
"No, I mean it's time for you to tell us who you really are!"
"Oh," she said with disappointment. "All right, that's fair."
She shifted her position on the bed so she was sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the wall. This had been bubbling in her mind all evening and she still wasn't sure what she was going to say, but it was time to tell them something.
She looked over the group. Zariel and Lulu were waiting patiently. Lulu knew the story, and she had probably told Zariel. They weren't the ones she was worried about.
The other three watched her with guarded expressions. They weren't outright hostile, but they were clearly cautious. She wanted to put their minds at ease, but the story was a lot to take.
"Everything I'm about to say will be the truth, but it's not going to be the entire truth. The full story is very long and, frankly, private and painful. But you deserve to know at least a little about my history with Levistus."
Dejen interjected, "And your time in Hell." His tone was more curious than suspicious.
"And a little bit about my time in Hell," she agreed. She looked up at the oil lamp on the opposite wall as she gathered her thoughts. She'd told the story about Levistus only once before, that night in Elfsong Tavern. In retrospect she realized she had gone into too much detail then, but the pain had been fresh and she had needed to vent. For now, she wanted to touch on just the basics.
She took a calming breath and then started speaking.
"A couple of years ago, I was living on the streets of Baldur's Gate. To survive on the streets you need a crew, and I had one of the best, a bunch of outcasts like me called the Forgotten.
"One night, the Outer City was attacked by sahuagin." At the confused looks she got, she added, "Fish people with spears and claws and teeth. Anyhow, we got cornered in a building. None of us knew much about fighting, so it was clear we were going to get slaughtered."
She was surprised by the sudden surge of emotion she felt remembering that night. Her voice caught but she cleared her throat and continued. "As the things approached us, suddenly everything stopped, everybody just froze, and I heard Levistus's voice in my head. He said he could give me the power to save my friends, my family. In return I had to give him claim on my soul, and commit an evil act."
"What was the evil act?" Eberic asked.
Pariah shook her head. "That's part of the 'private and painful' bit I'm not going to tell you. I’m not proud of what I did, but it seemed a small price at the time. As for my soul, I didn't have a high opinion of myself back then. I figured if that's what he wanted, he could have it. It was worthless to me.
"And with that, I suddenly had magical powers and a shiny new rapier that I barely knew how to use, but it was enough. I killed the sahuagin and saved my crew."
She paused, remembering the pain as the Forgotten had pulled away from her, but that wasn't important to this story. She pressed on. "After that, he asked me to do other things, each time promising me more power. I didn't really care about the magic, but the things he asked seemed harmless. Rescue a man from a cult of the Dead Three. Recover an ornate box from a family of devil worshippers. Take the box to Candlekeep."
She stared gloomily into the distance. "I'm a little stupid, but I know when I'm being played. He's a devil. Even though the things I was doing didn't seem harmful, helping an archdevil can never be a good thing. However, I eventually figured out that he was working against one of the other devils. He apparently does that, much to the annoyance of everyone else in the Nine Hells." She carefully avoided glancing at Zariel.
"I also realized that a bunch of mortals were getting caught up in this other devil's scheme, and by following his advice I might be able to save their souls from damnation. I didn't trust him, and he certainly didn't care about the mortals, but I could trust his desire to betray and disrupt, so I continued cautiously listening to him. Along the way I gathered a few others who wanted to help." She smiled at the asteri and said, "Including Lulu."
"And Zariel?" Bjarnson asked.
The question caught Pariah off guard and her voice stumbled, which she knew probably looked suspicious. "Well, sort of. She joined us much later. Towards the end of things." Not technically a lie.
He looked at both of them with narrowed eyes. "That comment you made about mortals dying because of her..." he trailed off.
Pariah silently cursed herself for having said that during their confrontation with the necromancer, and cursed him for not letting it go.
Zariel said in a pained tone, "It is true that I made some...poor choices. I don't wish to go into detail."
Lulu interjected, "But you did the right thing in the end, like I knew you would."
Bjarnson asked, "And you worked with Levistus, too?"
Zariel hesitated. Carefully she said, "I did not join their efforts until after they had abandoned his counsel."
Pariah, wanting to change the subject, said, "As part of our effort to stop this other devil-"
Dejen interrupted, "What was the other devil's name?"
From his tone it was an innocent question, not one cloaked in suspicion, but again Pariah stammered as it caught her off guard. This was proving to be a more complicated story than she had hoped, especially since she was trying to keep large sections of it secret. "Who can remember?" she said dismissively. "Most devils have names that sound like a cat hawking up a hairball."
Quickly pressing on, she said, "Our time at Candlekeep eventually led us to a wizard who wanted to go to Avernus, the first of the Nine Hells, to find out some more information on this devil's plan. It was supposed to be just a quick trip in and out so he could do some divination or something. He needed some muscle, so me and my companions went along." She scowled. "Unfortunately, he ran away and left us stranded there."
That got murmurs of sympathy from the others.
She continued, "After several weeks in Avernus, we did..." She paused and then reluctantly continued, "...with Levistus's help, manage to stop the other devil and save hundreds or thousands of people of the city of Elturel -- not just their lives but their souls. And although we had stopped listening to him, I hate to say it, but his advice and the great amount of magical power he gave me did help us succeed in saving those people."
Quickly she added, "I'm not saying he's a good guy. I'm not saying we should follow his orders. I'm not saying we should help him. I'm just saying that, in that one instance, allying with one evil over another worked out."
Dejen asked, "What happened to all the power he gave you? You said it was a great amount but your magical ability seems to be quite modest. And I gathered from your conversation with him that it was coming back or something like that."
"That's true," she said. "When we were done, I got the opportunity to break my deal with him. It meant I would lose the power, but I'd get my claim on my soul back. It wasn't a hard choice. I hadn't really cared about the magic and, since I'd seen what Hell was actually like, I didn't relish spending eternity there. I went through with the ceremony, although..." She held up a hand covered in burn scars. "...it left a mark."
"But you didn't lose your magic," Dejen said.
"I did actually, for a long time. Every gift he gave me was gone. And then a month or two ago, it started to trickle back. I have a friend who's a priest and another who's a scholar, and neither knew what it meant. I talked to an expert in the Nine Hells and infernal pacts at Candlekeep, and she didn't know either." Firmly she said, "I don't want to go back to the way things were. I'm not going to enter into another pact, and I don't know if this is an attempt to trap me into one."
"What about his statement you had stolen this power. Do you think he was lying?"
Pariah looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling. "That's not an easy question with devils. Devils don't lie but they do mislead. As I understand it they can't utter a blatant falsehood, but they can make true statements that are also lies."
Dejen looked puzzled. "I don't understand. Either a statement is true or false, right?"
"Not necessarily. Imagine we are standing on the edge of a high cliff. I tell you that jumping off the cliff will not kill you. That statement is true. Jumping off the cliff won't kill you; it's the sudden stop at the bottom that does. Jumping off the cliff will probably lead to that sudden stop, but the actual act of jumping doesn't kill you."
He frowned, unsatisfied. "That seems pointlessly pedantic."
"'Pointlessly pedantic' is exactly what devils are like. That's why you have to consider every possible interpretation of every single word they say." She frowned thoughtfully. "But back to your question, the idea of accidentally remaining connected to his power without any obligation was one of the possibilities raised by the scholar in Candlekeep." She shook her head. "But I don't like it."
There was a silence as they all processed what she had said. Eventually Bjarnson said, "And what do you think we should do now?" His tone was heavy with suspicion.
She put up her hands in a shrug. "I don't know. It costs nothing to listen to his advice, and I'll make you the same deal I made the other group I traveled with: we all decide what to do together. I will be honest about anything he says to me and any dealings I have with him. We decide if we follow his advice or if we ignore it. But be careful. The devils are smart about these things. If he knows we'll defy him, he'll simply tell us to do something else, like tell us to travel north when he wants us to travel south. That kind of thing."
She held up a hand, fingers curled into a loose fist. "We know about these threats." She started counting on her fingers. "Levistus's cult. Auril's cult. The duergar, and if he says they are here I'm inclined to believe him." She saw Eberic frowning, and she quickly added, "Plus we have a murderer to catch."
Zariel said sternly, "I am against the idea of allying with a devil."
"So am I," Pariah emphatically agreed. "But is an invasion of duergar any better? Is Auril's Everlasting Rime? I'm not saying we join Levistus's army, but he could be a useful ally in the short term."
"The actions of a devil will be far worse for Icewind Dale than anything any mortal force can do," Zariel insisted. "And Auril, for all her chaos and all the hardship she has caused, is one of the gods and not one of the infernals."
Eberic said, "The Underdark is a lot closer than the Nine Hells. If there is an advance party of gray dwarves, it would be best to find and destroy them, and collapse whatever tunnel they are using to reach the surface world. After catching the Coldheart Killer."
Growing agitated, Zariel said, "But the devil worshipers are here. Now. Perhaps we could recruit the local militia. Even the militia of Caer-Konig." She turned to Bjarnson and said, "That town is close, correct?"
The big man made an indecisive noise. "Well, yes, but the two towns have a long history of fighting over fishing rights. I don't think Caer-Konig would come to Caer-Dineval's defense."
Zariel was unhappy with his answer but, before she could respond, Pariah said to Bjarnson, "What do you think our next step should be?"
He looked down at the ground thoughtfully. "I'm a simple man. I hunt and fish, and do what I can to preserve the natural order of things around here. I'm not happy with how Auril has twisted that order, but that kind of thing is over my head. Gods and devils, leave them for the wizards and storybook heroes. We couldn't stop Auril ten years ago, I don't see how we can stop her now."
That puzzled Pariah. "Ten years ago? I thought the Everlasting Rime was only two years old."
"It is, but looking back it probably got started back during the Sundering."
She remembered the story he had told them a couple of days ago. "Oh, right. The Ice Queen or something like that?"
"The Ice Witch," he corrected her. "Everyone thought we stopped her, but that doesn’t mean we stopped Auril herself. I think the Everlasting Rime is just a continuation of what happened back then." He made a face and spat, "Gods. Let them fight in the Heavens and leave us mortals and the natural order out of it."
"Agreed," Pariah said emphatically.
He continued, "But duergar, that is something I can understand. That is a threat that we can stop."
Pariah said, "What about you, Dejen?"
The man adjusted his goggles; he wore them all the time now, even when they were indoors. He said, "Well, I agree that the duergar are a threat. And I am very concerned about an archdevil openly plotting in Icewind Dale. I certainly think we should see if we can negotiate the release of the prisoners. However, I am here to study the Everlasting Rime and Auril's influence on it. That is where I would prefer to focus my attention."
That left one person. Pariah knew what she was going to say, but she deserved a voice anyhow. The tiefling turned to the little angel sitting on Zariel's knee and said, "What about you, Lulu?"
Lulu looked uncertain. She looked up at Zariel and then over at Pariah. "Well, I know that Levistus is really bad but he's also really smart. And maybe helping him against the duergar is going to be better for everyone, like listening to him in Avernus helped save Elturel." Zariel looked stunned at Lulu's words, and the asteri said quickly to her, "I'm not saying we help him help him, just that we maybe listen to him until we get this other stuff done. He said he wanted to stop Auril too, right? And we want to stop Auril because she's defying Lathander, right?"
Zariel frowned in thought at that last comment. "True," she admitted reluctantly. "My loyalty first and foremost is to Lathander. And I have never been a friend to chaotic forces like the Gods of Fury; I consider them little better than the Dead Three or the demons of the Abyss. However, I am loath to seek the assistance of a fiend, particularly the Prince of Betrayal."
"I'm loathing right with you," Pariah said. "But we can't fight everyone at once. We were able to rescue Elturel only with the help of fiends like Levistus and Bel."
Zariel's face grew dark at the mention of the latter's name, and Pariah realized she probably shouldn't have brought him up. It also occurred to her that seeking aid against the chaos of the demons is what led to Zariel's oath to Asmodeus in the first place.
"However," the tiefling added, "the people of Elturel were saved. I say we use his help to deal with the duergar, using our successes to negotiate for the release of the prisoners. Then we get his help against Auril and, when we stop her, we come back here and wipe out Levistus's cult."
She couldn't help but smile sadly as she remembered joking with Farima in Candlekeep about the absurdity of stopping two archdevils. And yet, that's what they had done, and now she was suggesting they tangle with two immortals again.
She didn't want to spend all night arguing, so she said, "First, we go after the killer in Caer-Konig. I think we all agree on that." Nobody objected, so she continued. "Who do we deal with next? I say duergar."
"Duergar," Eberic agreed.
"Duergar," Bjarnson nodded.
"Auril," Dejen said timidly.
Zariel hesitated, her lips pursed, and finally said, "My preference is Levistus, but I will vote to stop Auril."
All eyes turned to Lulu. She was looking sadly at Pariah. "She said you'd die."
"What?" Pariah asked in confusion. "Who?"
"The soothsayer. She said you'd die if we went after the duergar."
Pariah tried to remember the old dwarven woman's prophecy. "She said a lot of gibberish about darkness and dragon hearts. And she said something about the end, and that could mean a lot of things." She grinned at Lulu, "You know how ridiculous messages from those fucking immortals are."
The little joke didn't make the angel happy. Without much enthusiasm, Lulu said, "I think Auril is the biggest problem, but I don't think we can stop her by ourselves. I don't want to work with Levistus again, but he's far away. I don't think he has as much power as she does here. So I agree with Pariah. We find the duergar. We get Levistus's help against Auril and stop her and that will strengthen Lathander's presence here. And then we come back and stop him too."
Pariah said, "Sounds like we go after the duergar. Agreed?"
Zariel and Dejen reluctantly nodded.
"All right," Pariah said, rubbing her hands together. "Then I say we get some sleep so we can get out of here early tomorrow and head towards Caer-Konig."
Notes:
I spent a lot of time trying to work out that conversation. They are going to need help, and it's not like the duergar or the Aurilites are going to help them, but I still wanted it to seem reasonable for them -- especially Zariel -- to accept, even temporarily, an alliance with a devil.
Meanwhile, Pariah is desperately trying not to say, "When we were trying to stop Zariel..."
Chapter 29: Sleepless in a Castle
Summary:
The group has reluctantly decided to help Levistus against the duergar, hoping they can build up enough favor to convince him to release the prisoners.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
Pariah lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. She had dozed in and out during the night, but she couldn't turn her mind off. Was it a good idea to get involved with Levistus again?
Well, the answer to that was obviously "no" but the alternatives weren't any better. Allying with one evil immortal to fight another might be their only chance.
The hero destined to fight evil in the service of evil.
The soothsayer's words echoed in her mind. Was that really her fate?
Accepting his help against the devil Zariel had proven successful. Pariah didn't know what he had gotten out of that deal other than the satisfaction of undermining one of the other devils, something he enjoyed doing. But this time he was building a power base. Taking out the duergar and Auril would directly benefit him, and that wasn't going to be good for the people of Ten-Towns. And, for all Pariah's posturing, she was afraid of what might happened if she really stood against him, really did stop one of his schemes.
As though worrying about the archdevil wasn't enough, Pariah was also concerned about Lulu. The moon was past a quarter full now and the asteri had waited until it set before quietly opening the door and heading out on her scouting mission. Pariah had been awake and almost volunteered to go with her, but a tiny, invisible angel would have a better chance of evading detection than a sneaky tiefling would, even though Pariah was small for her species.
Pariah had no way to tell the time, but estimated it had been at least an hour. She hoped that meant that Lulu was being careful, not that she'd been caught. Despite her assurances that she couldn’t really die, there was no reason to put that to the test. And if the castle realized the group was spying on them, who knows how they'd react?
Then again, was Levistus really blind to what was happening? He had always seemed to know everything going on in Avernus: every move they made, every thought they had, every scheme they created. She had always wondered if he had known that she wouldn't kill Zariel in the battle at High Hall.
Pariah was debating the wisdom of doing her own scouting mission, but didn't see that it would prove anything. If Lulu was in trouble, there wasn't much Pariah could do. So she continued to wait.
She had started to doze again but jerked awake at the sound of the door. It opened only about a handspan and stopped. She couldn't see anything come in, but she heard the flapping of wings. Lulu's voice whispered, "Zariel! Zariel!" Zariel stirred as something unseen shook her shoulder.
Hearing the agitation in Lulu's voice, Pariah propped herself up on her elbows. "Lulu?" she whispered.
The angel faded into sight and flew over to her. "Pariah, it's awful!" she hissed in distress. "I found the prisoners. Five of them. But they are starving and cold and sick and the cell is all stinky. They've been down there for days and I don't think they can last much longer."
Zariel had sat up by this time, and Pariah did the same. Zariel whispered, "It is as I feared. We cannot leave those prisoners to die."
Pariah opened her mouth, but then closed it as she looked at the others, all still asleep. She briefly considered waking them, but they could all talk in the morning. Let them get their sleep now. She motioned towards the door, and the three of them quietly exited the room into the great hall, closing the bedroom door behind them. Zariel's ring started glowing dimly, illuminating a small space as they moved into the dark room. They were unarmored and not wearing their boots; Pariah could feel the coldness of the floor through the soles of her socks.
She glanced towards the kitchen but saw no light from within. She kept her voice a whisper as she said, "I agree that we can't abandon the prisoners. Lulu, what's the layout? Maybe we can sneak them out somehow."
"Well, it's like Eberic said: there is a trap door in the floor. Two guards asleep, one upstairs but he was looking out not in, watching some lights moving in the distance. I was real quiet when I opened the trapdoor and went down.
"There's a ladder down to a cistern and storage. One of the storage rooms is a shrine to Levistus; I didn't go in there because I didn't want him to see me. There are other storage rooms out on the water, carved into the sides of the cistern. In one I found a whole lot of bodies, all frozen and stacked up. The prisoners are in the farthest room."
She sniffled a little. "I made a light and showed myself. They were all huddled together for warmth. They begged me to help them, or at least to bring them food. I found a rat-eaten bag of oats in one of the other store rooms and was able to carry it to them without spilling too much, and it was awful watching how they just wolfed it down so fast they were choking. We have to help them!"
"Did you see any other ways out?" Pariah asked.
Lulu shook her head. "No, just the trap door."
Pariah crossed her arms and sat on the edge of one of the tables. "Two guards, asleep. I mean maybe me and Eberic could sneak in there and take care of them without alerting the guard on duty. Then maybe we could get down there...wait, you said across the cistern. How would we get them across the water?"
Lulu said, "There's a little boat, but it would only hold two people. Maybe three, but then it might get tippy."
"No other guards down there?"
Lulu shrugged. "I'm not sure. There were other rooms past the shrine. There might be guards there."
Zariel added, "And we don't know where this wizard is."
"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. "I'm not sure we can get them out of there safely. Even if we were willing to risk fighting the entire place, a fight is just going to get the prisoners killed."
Zariel scowled. "I suppose we could talk to Kadroth again. Ask him to move the prisoners to better accommodations, or at least provide sufficient food and warmth."
Pariah looked towards the closed door to his sitting room, though she knew he wouldn’t be there right now. "I think maybe ask is the wrong tactic. I think we need to start making demands. If Levistus wants my help, he's going to give me something first."
"Perhaps," Zariel admitted. "If we can offer him something he wants, then he could be amenable. However, I also fear the consequences of giving in to his wishes."
"I know," Pariah sighed. "It's different than it was in Avernus. There he just wanted to disrupt things. Here he is building power."
"Which is why I don't think we should-" Zariel began, and then made a dismissive motion. "Well, no reason to belabor the point."
Pariah leaned closer to Zariel and Lulu, looking towards the door to the servants' quarters to be sure it was still closed. "I didn't want to ask in front of the others, but what is your opinion of Levistus? Did you have any dealings with him?"
Zariel frowned at the question. Pariah knew she didn't like being reminded of her past, but she had knowledge that might be useful, so the tiefling waited patiently for her to respond.
The blonde woman also looked over to be sure the door was closed, and then whispered, "First of all, I wanted to thank you for keeping my name out of the story of your past."
"It seemed like the best choice," Pariah said with a shrug. "They are having a hard enough time finding out who I was without finding out who you were."
Zariel folded her hands and fiddled with her ring. "I was an outsider in the Nine Hells. Although I had sworn an oath to Asmodeus, I retained my contempt for devils as a whole. I refused to make alliances, which I guess made me more similar to Levistus than I would like. He was also a pariah among his kind." She looked guiltily at the tiefling. "Forgive me, perhaps I should say an outcast among his kind."
Pariah gave her a polite chuckle. "It's all right. I know what the word means. It's why I chose it as my name."
"Is it?" she asked with concern. "What happened to cause that?"
The tiefling paused. "That's a bit of a long story, and it's getting us off the subject."
"Fair enough. My apologies. Anyhow, although all of the devils schemed against each other, there were alliances among most of them. Levistus actively worked against all of the archdevils, even more so than against other creatures, so he was greatly loathed by the others. And I was reviled because of my history, plus I didn't wish to associate with the other dukes, so I was isolated as well. Besides, I had enough problems locally with Bel and Tiamat without worrying about the other circles of Hell. As much as I'd like to credit my own schemes for my survival, I also had Asmodeus's favor so nobody was willing to work openly against me. Plus I was on the front lines of the Blood War, keeping the invasion from penetrating further into the Hells." She hesitated and then added, "I have to admit, I wonder how the battle turned after my abdication, how much damage was done by Levistus's scheme to remove me."
"And you don't know why he wanted you out?" Pariah asked.
Zariel shook her head. "I have meditated on that fact a great deal. I suppose I should be grateful to him, since you and your companions were able to help me see the error of my ways. However, I don't know what Levistus gained from the chaos of my departure."
Pariah drummed her fingers on the table as she remembered something. "He knows who you are. He whispered that in my ear when he possessed Kadroth."
Zariel fiddled with her ring. "I had gotten that impression by the way he looked at me. He could threaten to tell the others my true identity in order to extort favors from us."
"That's what I was thinking," Pariah admitted. "During your time in Avernus, did you ever deal with him directly?"
"Rarely. I was mostly focused on my military operations in Avernus so I didn't pay much attention to other planes. And Levistus tends to concentrate his attention on schemes in the Material Plane. Our goals never aligned, so we had no reason to associate."
Pariah leaned back and looked up at the chandelier, its candles now extinguished. "And what in the Nine Hells does he want with this frozen patch of the Sword Coast? So he gets a few crazy cultists in the middle of nowhere. What does that prove? And why would he be willing to stand against Auril for it? Immortals don't usually get into such direct conflict."
"I have wondered that myself," Zariel mused. "I am a stranger to your world, but perhaps a local like Bjarnson or a scholar like Dejen would have some insight as to what would make this place valuable."
"Good idea. Maybe we can ask them over breakfast."
Pariah realized that Zariel was hugging herself in the cold. They had been warm in their quarters and hadn't worn their winter clothes out into the unheated great hall. Pariah said, "It's probably two or three hours until breakfast, so let's go back to bed. There's nothing we can do now."
Zariel nodded agreement and they headed back towards their quarters, Zariel dousing the light of her ring before they entered the room. The others hadn't stirred, and Pariah was grateful for that. She didn't want to start a major discussion right now. She put another log on the fire and then got into bed.
She lay awake for a while trying to think of a way to help the prisoners, trying to think of something Levistus or Kadroth would want in return for better treatment, but she couldn't think of anything. Frustrated, she tried to relax. Eventually she drifted in and out of a light sleep.
She started to hear noises from the other side of the wall, which was the kitchen. She wondered if the staff would have some ideas about how to get the prisoners out of the caer, but Mere had already said there was no way other than the front gate. However, maybe they knew of a way to smuggle food down there. It wouldn't hurt to ask.
She sat up and reached for her boots. As she did, Bjarnson lifted his large frame up onto his elbows. "Getting up?" he whispered.
"Yeah. I'm going to go talk to the kitchen staff about the situation around here."
He sat up as well. "I think I'll volunteer to help them prepare breakfast. Plus I think I'll hit the outhouse before the morning rush."
"Good point," she said. "I only saw the one. That doesn't seem like enough for this many people."
As he slipped on his boots, he said, "The men probably just pee over the wall."
Lulu was sitting near the fire and said, "I'll go with you. You," she emphasized, pointing at Pariah as she flew over. "Not you," she pointed at Bjarnson. "I was in an outhouse once. Yuck!"
"I do prefer the open air," he agreed as he grabbed his coat.
The three of them made their way out of the room. The others were still asleep so they moved quietly.
Out in the great hall, they found Mere lighting a few of the candles on the chandelier with a long pole that had a snuffer and a lit wick on the far end. He was struggling to hold the tool steady so that the candles could catch.
Pariah said to Bjarnson, "You've got fire magic. Can you help?"
He studied the chandelier and said, "I’m afraid not. I might be able to do if it I could get up there, but if I throw fire from down here, I'm just going to blast a bunch of candles."
"I can do it!" Lulu said. She flew up towards the chandelier, grabbed one of the lit candles and used it to start lighting others.
Mere watched her in wonder as he lowered the pole. "Thanks, missus," he called up in a loud whisper. "Don't light 'em all. Just one in three."
Pariah and Bjarnson watched Lulu flit around the candles and then he said, "Well, I'll be back in a bit," and he headed towards the front door.
Pariah took the opportunity to head for the kitchen, getting her first look inside. There were two stone ovens and an open fire with a roasting spit and a hook that was probably meant for a large cauldron, though it currently held a kettle. The cook was currently at one of the wood-block counters, putting chunks of crag cat meat on the spit. In one corner was a small corral that held two goats that she smelled before she saw. The room was lit by two oil lamps mounted to the wall, and another one sitting on the counter.
Mere was already in the kitchen, leaning the lamplighter tool against a corner and saying to the cook, Karou, "I told you. The angel's doing it. Go look if you don't believe me."
"Lazy boy," Karou grumbled. "Don't let other people do your work. Now go down and fetch the water, unless the gods themselves have come down to do that for you too."
Go down? Pariah thought. She asked, "Are you going down to the cistern?"
The cook turned, startled by her voice, and then frowned when he saw her.
She sighed. "I told you. I'm not with these assholes. In fact," she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial level, "I wanted to look over the place because the prisoners are down there. Do either of you know a way we could get them out of there?"
Mere and Karou exchanged a glance. The cook said firmly, "That's not our concern. We need to mind our own business." He fixed her with a piercing gaze. "You'd be smart to do the same."
"I never said I was smart," she said dryly. The tiefling boy had grabbed a couple of empty buckets. Pariah reached out. "Here, give me those. I'll come with you."
Mere hesitated, looking at Karou. "I don't know," he began.
"I'm going with you either way. You might as well let me carry a couple of buckets."
He still didn't move, and Karou said, "You can take the pot."
"Pot?" she said.
He pointed. "The pot."
She was expecting a cooking vessel, but it was a chamber pot. Clean and empty, but a chamber pot. "You transport water in that?" she asked.
"No. That's for the wizard."
That explanation didn't help. Mere added, "She don't come up here much. She takes her meals in her room. I fetch her dirty dishes and I change her pot for a clean one."
"I see," Pariah mused. She wasn't sure if the chance to meet this wizard made the idea better or worse, but she wanted a chance to see the cistern for herself. "Do you take food to the prisoners? I think you said food goes down every day or two?"
Karou pursed his lips. "More like every three days. And no, one of them takes it to the prisoners. We aren't allowed out on the water." He cautioned her, "And don't you go nosing out there, neither."
"Me?" she said in mock innocence. "Never!" She grabbed the chamber pot and motioned for Mere to lead the way.
He said nervously, "And the lamp, missus? It would help if you could take that." He nodded towards the lit lamp on the counter.
She grabbed the lantern and followed him back out to the great hall. Lulu had finished with the chandelier and flew down. "Where are we going?" she asked eagerly.
Pariah paused. The guards might let a tiefling stranger down below, but she didn't think they'd be so accommodating to someone like Lulu, and she didn't want to ask the asteri to disappear in front of Mere. "We're going to get water from the cistern. Why don't you stay here? You can tell the others where I am."
Lulu looked concerned. "All right. Be careful."
They went out the double doors into the chilly darkness. Dawn, such as it was, was still several hours off. There was a light mist in the air that froze against her skin. Mere turned to the right past a pair of abandoned merchant stalls with torn canopies that flapped in the slight wind. Past that was the east wall, with towers to the left and right and a stairway between them leading up to the battlements. Under the stairs was the outhouse, which glowed with a flickering light that she guessed was being held in Bjarnson's palm.
Mere led her to a door in the base of the right tower. He held both buckets with one hand while the other reached out for the latch. He paused, took a breath, and then opened the door.
The room inside was nearly dark, lit only by the lamp in Pariah's hand. She quickly scanned the place. There were six cots spread through the circular room, each covered in furs with footlockers at their feet. Two of them were occupied by sleeping shapes. Neither occupant was sleeping under blankets, and the brazier in the middle of the room was dark and cold. A wooden stairway curved up the far wall to the second floor; she could hear the slight whistle of the wind through the arrow slits on the upper level.
Mere motioned for her to be quiet as he led her towards a trap door. They passed a section of the wall that was the poorly hidden secret passage that Lulu had mentioned. Mere ignored it as he headed to the hatch in the floor, a simple wooden door with an iron ring. He put the buckets down on the floor next to it and then opened the trap door, which moved silently on well-oiled hinges. Pariah peered down and saw a wooden ladder held with iron brackets that descended into a dimly lit stone room. Mere stepped down onto the first rung of the ladder.
"Freeze!" shouted a voice from behind them. "Or I'll put an arrow in your back!"
Notes:
I changed the layout of the underground area because the existing area doesn't make sense. All the rooms are across the cistern. Why would you build out rooms that you need a boat to get to? And how does Avarice get out of her room if she doesn't have her own boat? So I moved most of the rooms to the near side, leaving just a few storage rooms that you need a boat to get to. And the marble slab blocking half the cistern makes no sense either, so I got rid of it. I also took the bodies out of the water, because why the hell would you poison your water supply by throwing corpses into it?
And I have no idea why I'm spending so much time focused on chamber pots and outhouses.
Chapter 30: What Lies Beneath
Summary:
Pariah is trying to investigate the fate of the prisoners while helping Mere to fetch water, but they have been stopped by the guards in the tower.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
"Freeze!" shouted a voice from behind them. "Or I'll put an arrow in your back!"
Mere replied in a rote tone, "I'm already freezing, sir. It's mighty cold in here."
The voice guffawed. "That just never stops being funny, boy."
"Yes, sir," Mere sighed as he started to climb down the ladder.
Pariah turned to see one of the sleeping guards, an older, slightly chubby half-elf with white hair, sitting up in bed. The other guard, still lying down, mumbled sleepily, "Shut up, Evard."
Evard beamed at Pariah and said, "You're one of the new people. Welcome, sister."
Pariah wasn't sure that antagonizing them was the right move at the moment, so settled for a polite nod before following Mere through the trap door.
It was a tricky climb for her as she struggled to hold both the chamber pot and the lantern. The ladder led down to a stone room lit by a low-burning oil lamp mounted on the wall. Her own lamp shed brighter light into the small space. With her back to the ladder she saw a narrow hall ahead leading into a dark room, a closed door to her left, and the edge of the cistern to her right. A rowboat was moored to a post at the edge of the water, which spread out into the darkness beyond the edge of her vision. Looking out into the cistern, she saw other tunnels left and right about thirty feet out.
"You can hang the lamp there, missus," Mere said, pointing to a hook on the wall by the cistern as he set the buckets down. "If you don't mind filling the buckets, I can get the pot." He reached out for the empty chamber pot she carried.
She handed it over as she peered into the darkness. Lulu had said the prisoners were in a room at the other end of the cistern, but she couldn't see that far. She debated about taking the boat out, but she was afraid Mere would get punished if she did. There was no path or ledge along the sides of the pool. The boat was clearly the only way across other than wings. The craft looked sturdy enough, though smaller than she had hoped. Lulu was right: it would hold two people, or maybe three if they were small.
Mere headed through the door with the empty chamber pot, leaving it open as he turned to the right, out of her line of vision. Past the doorway she saw a well-lit room. Frost covered the floor and walls. The far wall was covered with what she first thought was a plain, brown tapestry, but she realized it was some kind of growth like moss. She remembered coming across a similar looking mold in Avernus and, considering the frost, assumed it had the same properties. Something to avoid.
However, her attention was held by what was in front of the back wall: a massive pillar of unnaturally clear ice that stretched floor to ceiling. A statue of a horned, pale-skinned devil was trapped inside. The pillar was wrapped in black chains. Even if Lulu hadn't told her about it, it was obvious this was a shrine to Levistus. She wondered if he was watching her through the eyes of his effigy.
She turned away and looked into the cistern. Although the water was a little cloudy, she could see to the bottom about eight feet down. She was surprised that the water wasn't frozen, considering the temperature of the room. She dipped a finger into it and discovered that it was...well, not warm, but not as cold as she expected. She didn't know if that was magic or geology. Regardless, it would still be too cold for the prisoners to swim through, which is probably why they were being kept on the other side. In addition, she imagined none of them were strong enough to make the trip.
"Missus?" a voice said behind her. She turned to see Mere holding a different chamber pot as well as a plate and silverware. He asked, "Would you like me to do the water?"
"No," she said, shaking herself out of her reverie. "Sorry. Mind wandering." She grabbed one of the buckets and dipped it into the pool.
As she did, he put the chamber pot and the dishes into a wooden box next to the ladder. Rope lay in a pile next to it, one end tied into a harness around the box. He said, "One of us should stay down here while the other hauls up the crate. Which would you rather?"
She glanced down at her skinny arms, currently clad in a woolen shirt since she had taken off her armor to sleep. She then looked over at him. He was a little malnourished, but also had the slim musculature of a servant who did his share of manual labor. She said, "I think you're probably stronger, so you go up."
"All right, missus." He grabbed one end of the rope and said, "Put the buckets in the crate after I lower it back down. Don't forget the lamp when you come back up."
As he started up the ladder, she said, "Where's the wizard?"
He paused and then pointed towards the now closed door to the shrine. "In there and to the right. Did you want to see her?"
Pariah studied the door and then said, "Not really." Mostly she was trying to place where everyone in the castle was in case there was a fight. The ladder was securely bolted to the wall with iron brackets, so knocking it down in the hope of trapping her down here wasn't a plan.
She had filled both buckets by now and carried them nearer to the ladder. She took the lantern and peeked into the narrow hallway across the room. It led to a mostly empty store room. At a glance she saw tools, a few weapons and suits of armor, some bedding and winter clothing, and a small keg of honey sitting on top of a large barrel of salt.
She turned as she heard the crate lowered against the stone behind her. She hurried to load the two buckets of water and looked up to give Mere a signal. He braced himself, feet spread wide across one corner of the hole above, and started hauling on the rope. She followed it up, lantern in hand, grimacing as the water occasionally spilled out of the too-full buckets onto her head and shoulders.
At the top, they unloaded the buckets from the crate and Mere lowered it back down into the hole, dropping the rope to land in a pile on top of it before closing the trap door. Then he took the lamp from her and carried it along with the chamber pot while she took the two buckets. The two guards had gone back to sleep.
Outside, he said, "You go ahead to the kitchen, missus. I'll dump this," and he headed for the outhouse, which was now dark. She headed inside.
Bjarnson was helping Karou and Mere prepare breakfast for the castle. The cook seemed annoyed at first but his mood settled when he realized Bjarnson knew his way around a kitchen. Pariah watched from the doorway but didn't have much she could contribute, so she did things like lay out plates and fetch another couple buckets of water from the cistern.
The three long tables in the great hall could probably hold a dozen people each, far more than the current population of the castle, but only nine guards showed up to eat once breakfast was served. Mere informed her that four guards were on duty in the towers, one at the gate, and one up with the speaker. Kadroth and his assistant took their meals in his sitting room, and Avarice took hers in her quarters in the basement.
The guards all took the table nearest the kitchen and ate with that uproarious camaraderie common to soldiers who served together. Their numbers included three tieflings, one male and two female, one of the latter being the woman who had been at the gate when they arrived. There were also three humans, a half-elf, a dwarf and, the most dramatic, a goliath woman. She stood head and shoulders above any of the others, looking even more impressive because of the claw-like tattoos on her face and arms. She wore thick hide armor dotted with rivets of iron, and she wielded a massive axe that was leaned against the table next to her.
Pariah and her group chose to gather at the table on the other side of the room. She, Zariel and Eberic took seats that let them face the castle guards and size them up; Bjarnson and Dejen were content to sit with their backs to the cultists. Lulu sat on the table next to Zariel's plate.
The meal was simple: a couple of fist-sized chunks of crag cat meat, a pile of boiled seaweed, and a handful of roasted, triangular nuts. As Mere brought out the plates of food, Eberic grumbled, "We should eat quickly and get on the road to Caer-Konig. We don't know how easily we'll find the murderer, and I don't want to give him the chance to get away."
"First," Zariel said firmly, "I wish to speak with Kadroth again about the treatment of the prisoners."
Pariah said, "Maybe I should talk to him. He might listen to me if I have the favor of you-know-who."
Zariel scowled but said, "I suppose you might be correct."
Mere had moved away so Pariah said quietly, "I don't know if I should mention Lulu's scouting trip to him or not." Then, as she remembered that only she and Zariel had been awake, she added, "Oh, I guess the rest of you didn't hear about that."
She looked at Lulu, and the asteri gave the group a short version of what she'd seen down in the cistern. A grim mood settled over the group.
Pariah said, "Aren't castles supposed to have secret escape routes and stuff like that?"
Eberic replied, "No, that's just a storybook thing. Castles are meant to stand against sieges. A secret tunnel out is a secret tunnel in. I doubt there's any way out other than the front gate."
Zariel chewed thoughtfully as she said to Pariah, "As to your previous question, I don't think you should mention that any of us have seen the prisoners' conditions. It's pretty much what we had expected before Lulu confirmed it. Levistus may already know of Lulu's late night trip, but that doesn’t mean Kadroth does."
"You don't think he tells them everything?" Pariah asked
Zariel looked over at her. "Did he tell you everything?"
The tiefling snorted bitterly. "No he did not."
They ate in silence for a bit, and then Dejen said hesitantly, "Why don't we ask for the prisoners to be released? Wouldn't that be best?"
"Yes," Pariah admitted, "but they aren't going to go for that. Nobody in town realizes what's going on. They think the speaker is sick. Even the kid who takes care of the dogs said the speaker was sick, though I don't think he believed that story. However, he didn't seem to know this is a cult of devil worshippers."
Eberic nodded. "Agreed. Releasing them means letting everyone know that a devil cult has set up here. That's going to make enemies across the region."
"But the secret is out," Dejen observed. "We already know. I don't know about the rest of you, but I hadn't planned to keep the information to myself." Nervously he said, "Does that mean they aren't going to let us go?"
They considered that dismal prospect, but Bjarnson said, "If they weren't going to let us go, I'd think we'd be in chains by now."
"That's true," Dejen said in confusion. "But then what's to stop us from telling everyone?"
Pariah suddenly remembered an incident from the night before, and she said, "Just a moment." She got up from her seat and hurried into their quarters, coming back with her journal and a pencil. They others gave her puzzled looks as she sat back down.
"Last night, I went to write in my journal. For some reason, I decided not to write about Levistus. It seemed to make sense at the time, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if something else was going on."
She opened her notebook and held the pencil in her hand. She started to write, "A cult of Levistus has taken over Caer-Dineval."
Her hand wouldn't move.
Instead, she tried to write, "Everything is fine in Caer-Dineval." She was able to write that just fine. She tried to add, "No it's not," and again her hand froze.
"Talona's tits," she hissed. "I can't write anything about the trouble here. Dejen, what about you?"
The man took out his quill to write in the air. The point of the implement started to move and then stopped before the end of the first stroke. He huffed in frustration and Pariah could see him straining, but he finally gave up. "I can't."
"I see," Zariel said darkly. "There must be some kind of geas on us that prevents us from giving any information. How clever of him."
Pariah closed her notebook with an irritated thump. "So it's a spell of some kind? Can we break it?"
"Unlikely," the other woman replied, and then added ominously, "Let us hope this is the only compulsion he has placed on us."
Further conversation was interrupted when the main door opened and a woman walked in from the courtyard. She was a tiefling of the Levistus bloodline, like all of the tieflings here. Her skin was stark white with no pigmentation at all. Her pale, thin horns curved along the sides of her shoulder-length white hair, drooping down at the ends. Her eyes were sky blue, solid in color with no discernible pupil or sclera. She looked around the room with a sneer, showing pointed teeth and long canines. She wore finely tailored clothing of brown cashmere and leather, along with the same black crystal pendant everyone else wore. Her black-gloved hands carried a staff of blue-green wood topped with an egg-sized black crystal orb caged in silver filigree. A satchel covered in short, gray fur hung at her right hip, held by a leather strap across her shoulder and chest. A raven sat on her right horn, its dark feathers contrasting sharply with her white hair and skin.
"You!" the woman barked, pointing the tip of her staff at Pariah. "Come with me."
The albino turned back towards the door but, before she could leave, Pariah said in irritation, "No. Who the fuck are you?"
The tiefling froze and then turned slowly to glower at Pariah. The guards at the other table had all grown suddenly quiet as they watched the exchange.
"I am Avarice," the woman said frostily. "Member of the Arcane Brotherhood, and champion of the archdevil Levistus."
"And?" Pariah said. She knew she probably shouldn't be antagonizing this woman, but her imperious nature made Pariah's hackles rise.
"And," the other tiefling grated, "Levistus has instructed me to teach you how to properly use his power. Now I have better things to do than babysit an amateur like you, but I obey our lord and I advise you to do the same."
"He can probably tell you I'm not really good at obeying," Pariah smirked. "And I've already told him that I don't want his power."
Avarice took a step forward and wisps of dark energy started to chase each other around the gem in her staff. Pariah found herself wishing she'd chosen a less aggressive way to talk to this woman, and also regretting she hadn't put on her armor and strapped on her sword before coming to breakfast.
The albino tiefling stopped in her tracks and looked away from Pariah to stare into nothing. After a moment, she said to the air, "As you wish," through clenched teeth.
She looked back at Pariah and said, "You want Levistus's help. You can be of use to him, but only if you learn to harness the magic you have acquired. It is in your best interest, and the best interest of those you hope to save, to learn to control that power."
Pariah was trying to tamp down her anger. There was no doubt this woman was a powerful spellcaster and not someone to trifle with, but she wasn't about to bow down to either an archdevil or a bully. She stood and slowly walked over to Avarice.
She peered into the blue pools of the other woman's eyes. "Can you hear me?" she asked
The corners of Avarice's mouth turned down. "Of course I can hear you," she said with contempt.
"Not you," Pariah said. "Him. Can you hear me?"
Avarice glared at her and then said, "Yes, he can hear you."
"You know me," she said. "You know I’m not going to kneel down and kiss your ass, so don't pretend you can order me around. You want me to train in this magic, then I want something in return. Bring the prisoners up from the basement. Put them in better quarters up here. Your seer just died, so I know you have a free room."
There was a mumble of conversation from the guards; apparently the news of the soothsayer's death hadn't been shared with the rest of the caer yet.
Avarice raised her chin to look down her nose calculatingly at the tiefling in front of her. She said nothing but the door to Kadroth's sitting room opened behind Pariah and she heard footsteps hurrying into the room. Kadroth said, "What is this about the prisoners?"
Pariah didn't break her gaze with Avarice. Over her shoulder she said, "You are moving them up to the soothsayer's room and you will start feeding them better."
Kadroth said, "I'm afraid we can't-"
"This is not a negotiation," Pariah said to Avarice. "Those are my terms. If Levistus wants my help, the prisoners will be treated better. If not, then we will be on our way."
She wanted more, but doubted this training was enough of a trump card to secure their release. She was playing a dangerous game, one she'd played before, and didn't want to push Levistus or his minions too far. Getting the captives better treatment would be the first step; securing their freedom would come later.
Kadroth said nervously, "We will need time to secure the windows to the room. That will take a couple of days."
"Then they can bunk with the speaker until then," she said. It would be tight quarters, but certainly better than what they had now.
She could hear Kadroth making noises behind her and could visualize his jaw flapping as he tried to come up with an answer. He mumbled, mostly to himself, "The speaker will complain." Then he added in a resigned tone, "Very well. They will be moved up today."
Avarice said sternly, "Can we go now?"
"One more thing. Zariel comes with me." She wanted the woman there both as an expert on devils and their schemes, and as someone who could sense evil forces.
Zariel said from behind her, "I'm pleased you said that. I was about to suggest the same thing."
"I'll come too," said Lulu.
"No," Pariah said, breaking her gaze with Avarice for the first time to look back at the little angel. "I need you to stay here while they move the prisoners. You can stay in contact with Zariel."
"Oh, that makes sense," Lulu replied.
Bjarnson said, "We'll be sure they are treated well."
"Thank you," Pariah said with a grateful look.
Eberic interjected sternly, "We have business in Caer-Konig today."
"I know," she said. Bjarnson had said it was a half-day's travel to the next town. She turned back to Avarice, who was fuming, and asked, "How long will this take?"
"That depends on how stupid you are," the albino tiefling said in a withering tone.
Pariah considered that. "We leave at sundown, finished or not. If we aren't done, then I'll come back when I can." With a humorless smile, she added, "Now, I just need to get dressed." Her armor and sword might not prove much against a powerful spellcaster, but she wasn't going to go into the wizard's lair without them.
Notes:
Since the geas on them is more of a narrative device than the actual spell, I ruled that they simply can't say anything rather than having them take enough psychic damage to kill 2nd level characters.
Now I’m going to muse a bit about the word "albino".
I've had a lot of people in my life with medical issues and/or disabilities. In particular my niece, who was my favorite person in the world, was severely developmentally disabled so I'm sensitive to the use of the r-word, even as a clinical term. I cringed a bit when I had Mad Maggie in Avernus use that word, but she was a villain so I gritted my teeth and did it. Besides, if you are more offended by her use of a slur than by her literal cannibalism, your priorities maybe a little skewed...
Having said that, I debated about whether or not to use the word "albino". It's not thrown around as an insult like some other disability words, but I understand the value of person-first language (e.g. person with albinism). Previously I only had the characters in the caer using the word; this is the first chapter I was going to use it as part of the narration. So I did my research and found that, as is often the case, some people with albinism don't care because it's a clinical term, and others hate the word with a fiery passion.
I don't want to call Avarice the "white tiefling" because that makes her sound Caucasian. I don't want to call her the "pale tiefling" because Pariah, and Levistus tieflings in general, are pale tieflings. Person-first language has its uses, but is also clumsy. In the end I decided to use the word as a descriptor.
As for the overused "the albino is always a villain" trope, you can blame the module for that one.
Chapter 31: Lessons in Dark Magic
Summary:
Pariah and Zariel head down into the cistern below Caer-Dineval where the tiefling wizard, Avarice, has offered to show Pariah how to use her magical power.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
The walls of Avarice's quarters were stark, unadorned stone, and the room was as cold as the rest of the castle. The lack of a fireplace or ventilation made Pariah think it had originally been a store room. A rough map of Icewind Dale had been drawn in chalk on one wall, with cryptic symbols and cramped notes in Lesser Baatezu scribbled in various spots. At least Pariah assumed the language was Baatezu; the alphabet was, but the words made no sense. She didn't know if it was another language or some kind of cipher.
The austere furnishings did little to make the room seem more comfortable. They included a small wooden desk and chair, a narrow bed, a red rug about two strides across, and a free-standing mirror in a wooden frame. A lamp on the desk provided the only light. As they entered, Avarice jerked her head and the raven flew off her horn to land on the frame of the mirror. It watched the others with sharp tilts of its head.
Avarice leaned her staff against the desk and turned to face Pariah. "So what can you do?" she demanded.
Pariah had expected the wizard's abruptness. She turned and held her hand up facing a wall, mumbling, "Dzwushk." A ray of cold energy shot from her fingertips to paint the surface in frost, just like what had happened in Sylvira's office. The dim light from the lantern faded almost completely as a cold aura swam around Pariah. After a few moments, the light returned to normal.
The other tiefling looked at the frost pattern, which didn't melt away since the room was so cold. "Anything else?"
Pariah furrowed her brow. "I used to be able to focus the cold energy into my armor. It's the only other spell that seems to have come back. But it doesn't work."
"Show me," she instructed.
Remembering what had happened at the White Lady, Pariah said, "You should probably stand back."
Zariel moved off to a far corner of the room, but Avarice just sneered at her and remained nearby. Pariah, not wanting to hurt the raven, took a couple of steps further from the mirror before gathering the energy and saying, "Ebekhakhsh." She felt the magic manifest and tried to wrap it around her, but again she lost control and the dark energy burst out around her. Zariel and the raven were out of the way, but Avarice was not. The albino tiefling made a casual wave of one hand and the energy parted around her.
"How do you channel your energy?" Avarice asked.
"Huh?" Pariah replied unhelpfully. "What do you mean?"
Irritated, she said, "How do you focus your energy? What object do you use?"
"Object?" Pariah asked, confused. "I never used an object."
"Nonsense," Avarice said in a condescending tone. "Most magic has to be channeled through some kind of conduit, an enchanted object that directs and controls the energy."
"It does?" Pariah said, earning another look of scorn from the wizard.
Zariel said, "I have observed the same with my own power. Many of my prayers do not work unless I am touching a symbol of Lathander, like my ring or my shield."
"Oh," the tiefling said, thinking back. She remembered Rowan often gripping her Tymoran symbol, but she had assumed that was just a habit. Farima had directed her magic through her staff. Lythienne had never seemed to need anything like that, but maybe the stories she told were the focus.
Wanting to add something helpful she said, "Like Dejen and his quill."
Avarice just wore her usual condescending expression and Pariah realized that comment wouldn't have meant anything to her. But then she remembered something. "My sword," she said. "The power flowed through my sword."
"A sword?" Avarice said skeptically. "That's not a typical magical focus."
Pariah pursed her lips, not wanting to relive the memory but also knowing this was important. Hesitantly she said, "It was a sword he gave me the night we made the deal."
Pariah was surprised when Avarice looked angry. "Oh," the wizard said. "I supposed that must have been it." She shook her head and mumbled something Pariah didn't catch.
"What was that?" Pariah asked.
"Nothing," Avarice grumbled. "Doesn't matter. So you need a focus. I don't know if I have...well, I suppose chardalyn might work."
"What?" Pariah asked, but then remembered Bjarnson telling them about it. "Oh, that's some kind of magic crystal or something."
"Like this," Avarice responded, touching the pendant around her neck. "Or that," she pointed to the crystal orb on the top of the staff that was leaning against the desk.
Hesitantly, Pariah said, "I thought that stuff made people crazy."
Avarice snorted with contempt. "Weak-minded people, perhaps. Are you weak-minded?"
Pariah felt her temper rising and paused, trying to get control over her emotions before responding. Zariel stepped forward, peering at Avarice's pendant. She said, "I can sense the dark forces in that. And in the one in your staff." To Pariah she said, "I sense no evil aura around your magic, but that crystal is without question of an infernal nature. You should stay far from it."
Avarice shook her head and mumbled, "Dzelekats shkotag," as she walked over to her desk, a phrase that meant roughly "idiotic god lover", though "lover" was probably a more polite term than intended. She opened the desk's single drawer and pulled out a clear, flat stone a bit smaller in diameter than Pariah's palm.
She handed it to Pariah, who took it hesitantly. "It's clear," she said. "Not black."
"That's it's natural state," Avarice explained. "Over time it can turn black or white."
Zariel came up next to Pariah to peer at the crystal intently. "This stone does not share the same infernal signature as the others."
Pariah held up the stone, looking through it at a distorted view of the room. "Bjarnson said something about it absorbing evil. Maybe it turns black if it's used for infernal magic." She turned the crystal over. "That could warn us if this magic I have is evil or not. If it starts to turn black as I use it, then we'll know."
"Perhaps," Zariel said skeptically.
Pariah was torn. One of the thoughts that had kept her up the previous night was thinking that this power could be useful if it wasn't tainted by any kind of service to Levistus. If it really was just raw magical energy that she was somehow tapping into, then there was no reason to reject it.
Of course that was the kind of things people told themselves when entering into deals with devils.
She looked at Avarice. "So you say this will help me control my magic?"
"If you are capable of managing the skill, then yes. You say you are used to channeling energy through an object, so maybe you can manage this simple task."
Pariah gripped the stone tightly. "Show me."
It turned out not to be such a "simple task". They spent the next several hours working with it, as Avarice grew increasingly frustrated and verbally abusive, while offering no actual constructive advice other than, "Just do it! It's obvious!"
Pariah did her best to ignore the woman's hostility and concentrate on the task at hand. She had cast spells before, had felt magic flowing through her. The crystal itself felt wrong to her. In her mind she still imagined the energy flowing through her blade, and she wondered if there was a way to attach it to the pommel of her weapon. However, Avarice just rolled her eyes at the suggested and continued to berate her slow progress.
One thing that gave Pariah a little motivation was that even though she struggled to direct her magic through the chardalyn, she didn't lose control of it like she had before. The spell fizzled rather than exploding outward, which was progress of a sort.
At one point there was a hesitant knock at the door; it was Mere with three plates of food identical to what they had eaten for breakfast. Pariah took a break to wolf down her food and then got back to her training.
Despite Avarice's stream of insults, Pariah did get better as she practiced. She could almost see what she needed to do, almost see the path the magic had to take, but couldn't quite hit it. It was like seeing a picture in your head and yet being unable to draw the lines to create the image. She knew what she had to do, but her body and mind wouldn't cooperate. And when Avarice's abuse made her angry, she lost what little focus she had and that made everything harder.
And then everything clicked into place, like the tumblers of a lock she was picking. It just seemed...right. She felt the magic flow from the palm of her hand, into the stone and out the other side in a stream. The energy touched her chest and a rime of frost spread out across her leather armor. "I did it!" she exclaimed.
"It's about time!" Avarice said sharply. "I thought you'd never manage such a simple spell."
Pariah's joy at success faded slightly at her harsh words. Trying to keep the evil grin off her face, she said to the other tiefling, "But we need to know if it worked." She patted her stomach and said, "Hit me!" She tensed her abs for the blow.
Avarice stepped over and slapped her across the face. "Hey!" Pariah shouted, surprised by the hit.
Despite the fact the blow hadn't hit armor, the frost flashed out and coruscated up Avarice's arm to the shoulder. The albino tiefling studied the pulse of frost critically, turning her hand back and forth, though she didn't seem injured by it. "It looks like it works."
"Congratulations," Zariel said hesitantly. "Did you want to practice more or shall we be on our way? Lulu tells me the prisoners have been moved upstairs and Eberic has been quite impatient."
Pariah looked down at the chardalyn in her palm. If Avarice had been a decent teacher, she might have wanted to learn more, but at the moment she wanted nothing more than to get out of the presence of this hateful woman and her infernal master. "Yeah, we should go." She looked up at the other tiefling. "Unless there was something else?"
"No, that's-" She broke off and stared into the distance. She made a disgusted noise. "Must I? I would like-" She grimaced and said petulantly, "Fine!"
She turned back to her desk, opened the drawer and took out a necklace of four white crystal beads about the size of acorns. With a scowl, she held it out to Pariah.
The tiefling took it hesitantly. "Um, thank you?" she said in confusion.
"It's magic," Avarice said in a condescending tone. "Tear a bead off and crush it in your hand to send out a burst of cold towards enemies in front of you."
Pariah could see that the main necklace was a leather cord. The beads were attached with cotton thread and looked easy to detach. "Is this more chardalyn?" she asked.
"Obviously," Avarice replied.
"Why is it white?"
The woman sighed in annoyance. "As I explained before, different sources of magic change the chardalyn black or white. That's the color it was when I found it."
Pariah slipped the necklace over her head. "And where did you find it?"
Avarice shot her an irritated look. "You can go now."
Pariah exchanged a glance with Zariel and said, "OK. It's been not at all a pleasure."
"I think we agree on that," Avarice said, pointedly turning away from her to sit at her desk.
Pariah and Zariel exited her quarters, which led out to the shrine to Levistus. Pariah scowled at the figure there and debated about spitting on it, but thought that might be a little childish. Instead, the two women simply moved quickly through the shrine out to the cistern, closing the door behind them.
She lifted the beads to look at them again. "Are these giving off evil energy?" she asked, suspecting the answer already.
"No," Zariel confirmed. "The magic is...well not exactly divine or celestial. Elemental perhaps?"
Pariah studied the bead but just saw a white crystal. "That's better than infernal. Or even fey." She let go of the bead and it fell against the leather over her collarbone. "Let's go up. I think I'm getting as impatient to get on the road as Eberic."
They climbed the wooden ladder up to the tower. A dwarven man and a tiefling woman were sitting on one of the beds playing a card game. Pariah had gone up the ladder first and they greeted her with smiles and a chorus of "Hello, sister." She didn't bother cursing Levistus this time.
When Zariel came up, their smiles hardened just a bit and their eyes narrowed. Pariah saw no reason to engage with them, so walked out the door to the empty courtyard. The glow of the sun was fading in the west but the moon was just rising on the other horizon. It was past its first quarter and cast a blue-white light that was dimmer than the indirect sunlight but still brighter than starlight. They should have time to get to Caer-Konig that day, and the better light and clearer weather should both improve visibility.
The sled dogs were running playfully around the courtyard, and Alassar leaned against the kennel watching them with a grin. He wore a fur vest and a fluffy hat over wool clothing, and he seemed warm enough for someone not inducted into the cult. Pariah gave him a wave and he waved back.
The great hall was empty and cleared of the breakfast dishes. Pariah started towards the servants' quarters, and Zariel said, "They are upstairs. Lulu is coming down to meet us."
Inside the quarters she saw three packs ready to go: hers, Zariel's and Bjarnson's. She was puzzled by the absence of the other two, but they each shouldered their own and Zariel grabbed the third before they headed out to the great hall. Lulu flew down from the upper floor to hover in front of them.
"So did it work?" she asked cautiously.
"I think so." Pariah fished out the chardalyn, which she had stuck in her money pouch for the moment. "This should help me control the magic."
"That's good, I guess," she said in a tone that implied she didn't think it was good.
"The magic wasn't the problem before," Pariah said. "It was the deal that gave me that magic." She pursed her lips as she remembered an idea from before. This might be her last chance for a while, though she was reluctant to delay the trip any more. "How's it going upstairs?"
Lulu looked up towards the balcony and said hesitantly, "They're mostly done. The speaker isn't too happy about sharing a room."
"Tough!" Pariah said sharply.
Lulu quickly added, "Well, I mean, he seemed shocked when he saw how bad they were. I think maybe he's just grumpy about all of this." She waved around her in general. "But they are getting settled. Karou and Mere are up there with food and blankets, and they were talking about letting them wash. Bjarnson's just doing what he can."
"We've got his pack," Pariah said, nodding towards Zariel. "I assume Eberic and Dejen have theirs already?"
"I guess so," Lulu said uncertainly. "They went into town."
"They did?" Pariah asked in surprise.
"Dejen wanted to talk to the tavern keeper about the local situation. Eberic said something about him being too helpless to be left alone and went with them."
Pariah looked up towards the balcony. Part of her wanted to go up and see the condition of the prisoners herself, but she knew they weren’t going to be comforted by the presence of another tiefling. She trusted Bjarnson to make sure things were in order. She said, "Is Bjarnson almost done?"
Lulu followed her gaze. "I think we can leave any time. I'll go get him."
She started to fly away, but Pariah said, "Wait. Leave him for now." She turned to Zariel and said reluctantly. "I would like to ask a favor." She hesitated and said, "I'd like you to see if any of the writing of my pact has reappeared on my body."
"Ah," Zariel said knowingly. "I had wanted to ask you about that possibility."
Pariah turned to the asteri. "Lulu, you go back with Bjarnson. We'll let you know when we are ready to go, and we can go get the others."
The two women headed into the servants' quarters and closed the door. The door itself had no lock, so Pariah put her pack in front of the door to block it. With that done, she started to remove her armor and the clothing underneath while Zariel waited patiently.
The exam was quick. Zariel wasn't as disturbingly thorough as Sylvira had been that one time at Candlekeep, but then she wasn't making a documented copy of what was there. She examined Pariah up and down silently before standing up and declaring, "I see nothing but scar tissue."
Pariah felt relieved and quickly started to get dressed again.
Zariel said hesitantly, "It's possible that something might happen the more you use his magic. If you are amenable, perhaps we should repeat this examination every so often."
Pariah frowned but she had thought the same thing. "That's probably a good idea, at least for the first however long."
The other woman studied her carefully. "And if I find the text of your pact has started to return?"
Emphatically, Pariah said, "If you see even one damn letter, then I stop using the magic entirely. And I'll smash this damn crystal with a hammer."
Zariel nodded. "That might be best."
By the time she was done, Lulu and Bjarnson were waiting in the great hall. Presumably Zariel had called Lulu while Pariah had been dressing. Bjarnson also asked if she'd been successful and she showed him the stone.
"Chardalyn," he said, nodding. "I suppose that makes sense. I've heard it can absorb magic; I had never thought about other uses."
"We should go," she suggest. "Eberic's probably about to have a stroke since we are getting off so late."
"Oh, we're fine," Bjarnson assured her. "The weather is good and yetis don't normally hunt in good weather."
As they headed out the front door, Pariah looked over at him, unsure if he was kidding. "Are yetis a big problem around here? I mean you've mentioned them before, but that was an oddly specific warning."
"Their hunting range runs through the road between the two caers. That wasn't a problem in the past because most people either took the ferry or traveled in good weather. And they are afraid of fire, so a lot of people carry torches."
Alassar watched them as they came out. "Leaving?" he said.
Pariah gave him a smile. She was pleased that he didn't seem afraid of her anymore. "We are, but we'll be back. We're working on things here. We'll check in to be sure you're okay."
"Thanks, missus," he said. He turned and gave a sharp whistle. "Home!" he yelled at the dogs, and the pack hurried across the courtyard to pile into the kennel. He gave Pariah and Bjarnson a nod of farewell, and a little wave to Lulu, and then he headed into the kennel and closed the door behind him.
As they approached the main entrance, Pariah yelled, "Open the gate!"
The human man who had greeted them popped out of the guardhouse up above. He looked down at them and gave her a grin. "Safe travel, sister!" he called out. He headed back inside, and she heard the portcullis outside the gate start to rise. When it was clear, the gates opened outward to reveal the town spread out along the curving slope around the harbor. As Pariah passed through the gate, she had a moment of panic that some kind of barrier would trap her here, but she passed through without incident and they started their trek down the road towards the Uphill Climb tavern.
Notes:
Oops, forgot it was Friday. Posting a little late today.
Pariah didn't actually burn spell slots training with Avarice. They don't want to spend another long rest here! The comment about Lythienne not needing a focus is pretty much me saying, "Hey, dummy, you didn't think about a focus." She had instruments, but never used them in her magic.
I added the idea of chardalyn being clear normally and turning black as it is exposed to dark energy. I went back and edited Bjarnson's explanation of it in an earlier chapter to add that detail.
The necklace is a homebrewed necklace of frost fingers, which is basically a necklace of fireballs but with a 3rd-level casting of frost fingers instead. That spell is unique to the module, and it's similar to burning hands but with cold.
Chapter 32: Fallen to Ruin
Summary:
Pariah leaves the caer and heads towards the Uphill Climb tavern to rejoin her group and get on the road to Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
The inside of the Uphill Climb had the same smoky interior and smell of fish chowder as the night before. The barkeep was stirring the pot that sat over the low fire in the fireplace. He looked up as the door opened and started with a cheerful, "Welcome to the-"
He broke off as he saw Pariah, and finished in a sour tone, "-Uphill Climb."
She sighed quietly to herself.
Dejen was sitting at a table in the private dining room off the main room. Across from him sat a man who looked about sixty. He had bright eyes and long, wispy gray hair. Laid out on the table between them was an assortment of, well, "junk" was the word that came to Pariah's mind. Items included several stacks of papers held down with stones, a crudely stitched ball of hide about eight inches across, a small jeweler's hammer, a linen bag of unknown contents, a dagger with a broken blade of green metal, and a single new boot.
Eberic was leaning in the doorway of the dining room, glowering down at the table, his arms crossed. He looked over his shoulder at the incoming group and growled, "It's about time! Can we go now?"
Dejen said cheerfully, "Surely we have time to let him finish his story." To the man he said, "Culver, these are my friends." He quickly introduced them. "And this is Culver, a local historian and collector of rare objects."
The objects didn't look particularly rare to Pariah, but she gave the old man a polite nod of greeting.
Culver stared at Lulu in wonder. "You know," he said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't believe you when you said you traveled with an angel." He started to cough and he quickly brought up a cloth to cover his mouth.
"We need to get on the road," Eberic insisted. "You can come back and swap stories after the deed is done."
The man's coughing fit had passed and he said to Dejen in a wheeze, "Perhaps your friend is right. I think I need to go lie down anyhow. But do come see me the next time you are in town, and I'll finish the story then. I'm usually here, but I've told you where my house is, right?"
"You have," Dejen confirmed.
"Four times," Eberic mumbled.
Culver said to the dwarf, "And I'd still like to hear what happened to you during the dwarven schism. I've talked to so many residents of Dwarven Valley, and each one has their own perspective on the events."
"Next time," he rumbled. "We should go."
Bjarnson said, "Normally I'd say we should eat first, but Eberic is probably right. We can eat as we walk. We're off to a late start and we don't want to let our quarry get too far ahead. It would be best to have some time to scout and ask around. We still don't know that Torg's is involved."
Unfortunately, it was not that easy to tear Dejen away from his new friend. Eberic was literally pulling on his arm, and the man blissfully continued to chatter away. The proprietor continued to give Pariah the side-eye, and he obviously wanted them out of there as well. He finally stepped in and said loudly, "Culver, why don't I walk you home and let these good people get on the road?"
With both him and Eberic working to separate the two, everyone finally managed to get out the door. They walked together as a group, since the road to Caer-Konig was downhill from the tavern. When they reached the intersection, Culver and the tavern owner continued down the main road, the old man hanging on the other man's arm for support, while the rest of them put up their hoods and started down the path leading north towards the next town. The sun was fully set now, but the gibbous moon provided some illumination in addition to Dejen's lantern and Bjarnson's glowing staff.
Dejen pulled a piece of ivory out of his coat to show to the others. "Look what I bought from him. Isn't it magnificent?"
The ivory was shaped into a triangle about the length of a finger on each side. Along the bottom edge were written numbers from one through twelve, and about a quarter of the left side was stained a dark color. It reminded Pariah of the portrait Eberic carried that depicted his wife and son, though this piece was far less intricate. In fact it really wasn't particularly attractive at all, even as a piece of jewelry.
"That's...nice," she said weakly.
"It's a portable sundial," he exclaimed excitedly.
"A what?" she asked. She knew what a sundial was, but the darkness on the face of it wasn't a shadow. It seemed to be something like ink or paint.
"Well, not actually a sundial of course, but a time piece." He pointed to the division between the light and dark on the face. "See, this line here shows the time. It's nearing 3. You know it's 3 in the afternoon because it's dark on the left. At midnight it will be completely dark, and then the paleness will come from the left again as the night passes. At noon, it will be all light, and then the dark side comes in again."
"Oh," she said in surprise. "That really is nice."
Eberic looked over at it and grudgingly admitted, "I guess it's not the swindle I thought it was. I figured he was just selling some painted trinket to a sucker, but the pattern has changed since he bought it." He looked towards the moon and added, "And it is around 3 in the afternoon, so I guess the thing is right." He mumbled, "Probably stop working in a day or so, but it wasn't my gold he spent."
Dejen didn't seem to notice Eberic's patronizing attitude as he beamed at his new acquisition. He tucked it back in a pocket, and said, "So did you get what you needed from that rather angry woman?"
"I hope so," Pariah said skeptically. "She gave me something I can focus my magic through."
"Oh, the necklace?"
"What?" Pariah asked in confusion, but then remembered her other present from Avarice. "Oh, no, that's something else." She fished the crystal out of her pocket. "I mean this. We tested it a little and it seems to work."
"May I?" Dejen asked, holding out his hand.
Pariah handed it to him. He turned it over and studied it carefully.
"What is it made of?" he asked.
"Chardalyn," she replied. "That crystal Bjarnson's mentioned before."
Eberic stepped away, snarling, "Keep that stuff away from me! It drives people mad. You should throw it away before it does the same to you."
Dejen reflexively held the crystal further away from himself, but Bjarnson said, "Only the black ice does that. This stuff is still clear so should be safe."
The dwarf snorted. "Keep it away from me anyhow. I saw what it did in Dwarven Valley."
"And what was that?" Dejen asked as he handed the crystal back to Pariah.
Eberic waved him off. "That's a long story."
Pariah nodded towards the land ahead of them. The trail had already been covered by snow and she was trusting that Bjarnson knew where he was going. She said, "We have time to kill, and I'm curious myself if I’m going to be carrying this in my pocket."
Eberic was silent for a while, and she wasn't going to press him for the story, but eventually he said, "It was back during the Sundering. While the rest of Icewind Dale was dealing with the Ice Witch, we were dealing with the black ice, though we didn't know that until later.
"I'm not sure how it all got started, but we got reports that zombies were coming out of the deep western tunnels. After a few days, a miner named Baerick Hammerstone had a loud, public argument with our leader, Stokely Silverstream, accusing him of weakness and disloyalty. He and his followers retreated to the east side of the valley while those of us loyal to Silverstream dug in on the west side, stuck between them and the zombies."
Dejen interrupted to say, "This is the dwarven schism Culver mentioned?"
"Yes," Eberic confirmed. "Hammerstone's people armed themselves with weapons of black ice that they apparently came from a deposit they found in the Spine of the World. They became increasingly belligerent and hostile, but we had strong fortifications. Thank Gorm for that, because we had enough trouble trying to root out the zombies. We finally cleared the mines, killed the wight who raised them, and established order but the valley's been divided ever since."
Pariah said, "And you think the black ice was responsible for that? It sounds like a typical political dispute."
He shook his head. "I knew some of those people, those who went with Hammerstone. Sure they were hard asses, belligerent and violent, but that just made them good fighters. They were loyal to the clan, and they had their limits. But after they joined him, they were all just deranged and battle mad. Everyone who came into contact with the black ice went insane."
"Not evil?" Dejen asked. "Insane?" He had been scribbling in the air during Eberic's story.
"Is there a difference?"
It was Zariel who responded. "To dismiss evil as madness undervalues its insidious threat. The most evil creatures can charm the purest hearts because their counsel sounds wise and sane. It seems right, and therein lies the danger."
Pariah added, "The evil of demons vs. the evil of devils."
"Precisely," Zariel agreed.
"There's a difference between demons and devils?" Bjarnson asked.
Pariah looked to Zariel to answer, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts so Pariah forged ahead. "Yes. Devils are the evil of oppression and slavery. Demons are the evil of destruction. Devils want to rule the universe; demons want to destroy it." To Dejen she said, "So in answer to your question, it sounds like they went both evil and crazy."
Bjarnson said, "But you said it was the black ice, not just chardalyn."
"I s'pose," Eberic admitted reluctantly.
"I've seen the same thing with the Reghed," Bjarnson said, shaking his head. "The Tribe of the Bear has split like the dwarves have, with many of their warriors corrupted by the black ice weapons they carry. They've been cast out of the tribe." He frowned at Pariah. "I believe the stone is safe as long as it remains clear or white, but beware if it starts to darken. Its effect is insidious."
"I'll be careful," Pariah assured him.
"We all will," Zariel agreed. "And we must also beware of the corruption of working with a fiend like Levistus. I still counsel against it but, if we must, then we need to be on our guard against his influence."
"I agree with that," Pariah said. "Trust me, I know." She grimaced as memories surfaced. "During our time in Hell, one of my companions let herself be fooled by the promises of one of the devils and betrayed us."
Lulu interjected, "She had a good reason."
"I know," Pariah sighed. "And that's part of the danger. They give you what you want, or at least what you think you want. I'm the first one to say that we should not trust anything that Levistus or his cult says. He is always working for his own interests."
Wanting a change in subject, she said to Dejen, "Did you try warning the people in the tavern about the castle?"
"Yes, we both did," he said. "We couldn't say anything. No matter how hard we tried, the words that came out were that the speaker was sick and getting better, and that these new people at the caer were negotiating fishing rights that would be favorable to Caer-Dineval."
Eberic snorted. "You say the devils can't lie, but they can make liars out of us."
"I guess so," Pariah sighed.
The cold air was starting to burn their lungs and dry them out, so conversation petered out. They silently trudged north towards Caer-Konig, with only the occasional trail marker indicating that they were heading in the right direction. The shape of Kelvin's Cairn grew on their left, so it would be hard to get lost as long as the wind didn't kick up again.
The moon was high in the sky by the time they reached their destination. It cast a blue-white light that was dimmer than the daylight. The uninterrupted expanses of snow reflected the light back upwards, making it easy to see the land spread before them.
According to Dejen's new timepiece, it was almost 7 pm as they neared the edge of the town. It was laid out like Caer-Dineval, a semi-circle of buildings surrounding a natural harbor that was currently frozen over, the three piers twisted and broken by the force of the ice. Here the land was more steeply sloped, rising from the lake's edge towards the peak of Kelvin's Cairn, which now loomed over them to the west, its rocky and snowy slopes lit up by the rising moon.
Along the road ahead of them, a ruined castle stood over the top row of houses. Its structure showed gaping holes and it was dark, deserted, and shrouded in snow. She could also see the remnants of what was probably a wooden palisade around the town, though now only the earth and stone foundations remained. She didn't know if the wall had been scavenged for wood or had succumbed to the same ruin as the castle.
The castle might have been dark, as were most of the houses, but she could see lights on the left side of the curve of the town. That end seemed to be where any activity was focused and, since it was by one of the shattered piers, her guess was an inn or a tavern. Nobody walked the dark streets, and no guards stood watch at the only road in or out of town.
They walked past the ruined castle to enter the town itself. A few of the houses had lights around the shutters, smoke from the chimneys, and voices from inside which gave a little life to the otherwise dead landscape. This town was worse off than Caer-Dineval, and that town had been clearly in worse shape than the two larger ones they had seen. These small villages must have been hit hardest by the Rime, especially with the loss of the ferry that, as she understood it, had been their primary supply line.
As they passed a snow drift in the shadow of a large building in front of the castle, a voice bellowed, "Who goes there?"
Pariah jumped and her hand clapped to her hilt as she whirled, seeking out the source of the voice. The drift started to move and then fell away as a large figure rose from beneath the snow. They stepped back as the shape loomed large, larger even than Bjarnson. It reached out, some kind of weapon in hand, and moonlight glinted off the silver scales of its clawed hand. The creature opened its mouth to reveal sharp, pointed teeth...
...and belched loudly.
"I said who goes there?" came the voice again, the words badly slurred. Pariah grimaced as the smell of alcohol washed over her, and she realized the "weapon" the figure held was a wine bottle. "Are you thieves?" the shape demanded, stumbling forward. "Have you come to steal what little we have left? Well I won't let you. I'm the law around here!"
As the figure moved fully into the moonlight, she could see he was a male silver dragonborn wearing splinted armor, with a double-edge battle axe on his back, and a crossbow at his hip dangling from a shoulder strap. He wore a fur vest, pants and boots though his hands were bare and his head uncovered. He gazed at them with bleary eyes, swaying back and forth. "Stop moving and let me get a look at you," he said thickly.
Passing out drunk in the street was dangerous enough; doing so in the middle of winter was a death sentence. He didn't look destitute. His weapon and armor were of good quality. Pariah said, "Do you live around here? Maybe we should get you home."
He pointed to the large house, which was more than double the size of the other houses. "There, but I can't go home. I'm on patrol for the thieves. You haven't answered me: are you thieves?"
"No," she said. Well, not at the moment, she added to herself.
Zariel added, "We're new in town, and in pursuit of a criminal. We're hoping to find the sheriff or guard captain or whoever is in charge of law enforcement."
"That's me," he said, thumping his chest with the wine bottle, which fell from his hand to the snowy street. "I'm Trovus, the town speaker." He looked down at the bottle and then reached down to get it, snatching it on his third try. He went to take a drink, but the bottle was long empty.
"You are the speaker?" Zariel asked, her voice heavy with skepticism and judgment.
"He is," Eberic answered. "He's well known for his...festive personality."
Zariel said to Trovus reluctantly, "Then perhaps you can help us."
"I hadn't planned to involve him in this," Eberic mumbled. "For obvious reasons."
Zariel insisted, "If he is the local law enforcement, then we must include him. Speaker Trovus, we are in search of a murderer and wonder if you might have some information for us."
The dragonborn let the empty wine bottle drop and then began patting himself down, as though looking for another one. He suddenly stopped, gazing at Lulu who was hovering nearby. He patted Zariel on the shoulder several times and whispered, "Look! Look! Do you see that? I think it's some kind of snow fairy."
Zariel seemed flustered by the man's behavior. "That is Lulu. She is with us."
"You befriended a snow fairy? I hear that's good luck."
Eberic said, "He's going to be no help. Let's go find Torg's."
Pariah agreed that the speaker didn't seem like much of an ally, and she wasn't fond of authority figures anyhow, but she didn't want to leave him in the cold. "Why don't we at least see him inside," she nodded towards his house. "Then we'll go look for Torg's. They are probably at the town tavern."
"Tavern?" Trovus roared. "That's a great idea. Come on, friends. I'll buy the first round!"
He staggered down the road towards the busier end of town. The group exchanged glances and then hurried after him. Zariel said to him, "Maybe you should head home."
"Nonsense! The night's young. And I still have thieves to catch." He suddenly stopped and stared at her. "Criminals? Did you say you are hunting criminals? Because I'm hunting criminals. I'm the speaker and I’m trying to find the thieves who are preying on the town."
"We're after a murderer," she said. "Have you heard about the Coldheart Murders?"
He waved her off with an alcohol-scented snort, and then resumed his winding trek down the road. "Big town problems. Big towns don't care about us; we don't care about them. Let them keep their killers to themselves."
Again they hurried after him. Zariel said, "We think the killer is visiting several of the towns. In fact, we think the murderer might be here in Caer-Konig right now. They might be associated with Torg's. They are here, right?"
"Sure, sure. They're probably set up by the inn. Or maybe they're in the tavern. Tavern? That's a great idea!" He roared with laughter and increased his pace.
Eberic grumbled, "We don't need the help of this useless sot. Let's find Torg's ourselves."
Trovus stopped walking again, whirling unsteadily towards the dwarf. "Useless sot? Ha! I was a great adventurer when you were still sucking at your mother's tit." He turned and resumed his journey. "Why, I was only a lad when I took on a gang of thugs who were making trouble." He waved towards the north. "I tracked them to their camp and I challenged their leader to a fist fight. He was an enormous man, half human and half ogre, twice my height and five times my weight, but he was still no match for me. I ducked under his blows and knocked him into the river. It was spring and the current was fast, and it carried him off while he screamed filthy things at me." He laughed. "Him and his gang of toughs never bothered us again after that. And then there was the time I met a tribe of kobolds who- Oh, here we are! Come on in."
They had stopped in front of a building with a sign depicting a fish on a hook. The sign proclaimed the establishment was called Hook, Line, and Sinker. Below the name was written, "First round is on the house!" They could hear boisterous voices from inside.
Eberic said, "We should find Torg's tonight. They're leaving in the morning. Where do they set up shop?"
"Oh they're closed by now. They normally set up near the inn." He waved towards an empty space next to an inn called The Northern Light. A lantern hung from a hook next to the front door. It shone with blue light, and Pariah wasn't sure if it was the color of the glass or the flame itself. As she watched the blue light transitioned to deep purple and then started to turn red.
Trovus continued, "They are probably in here." He opened the door to the tavern. "Come on in. Let me welcome you to Caer-Konig!"
Eberic looked through the open tavern door and then back at the group with a frown.
Pariah debated and then nodded towards the inn, "Let's go get our rooms first. We can drop our stuff off and be ready for whatever happens."
Trovus said, "Nonsense!" He started physically herding them into the tavern. "Have a couple of rounds first. Then I'll take you over to the inn, introduce you to the Shorard sisters and be sure they give you the best rooms."
Pariah glanced at Eberic and said, "He's probably right that they are in the tavern."
He sighed. "Fine, but let's not forget we're here on business."
Eberic headed into the building, the rest of the group close behind, and Trovus bringing up the rear.
Notes:
Culver is from Legacy of the Crystal Shard, as is the story about Dwarven Valley. The orb Dejen bought is a slightly more sophisticated orb of time. Since I've already written a story where it was hard to tell what time of day it was, I figured I'd give them a watch.
Nitpicky writer's note: I don't like the Oxford Comma in "Hook, Line, and Sinker" but that's how it's written in the module.
Finally, a slightly spoilery comment about Trovus. He may seem like the "ha ha, funny drunk guy" character, and he's certainly presented that way in the module, but he's not going to be that in this story. I don't want to say too much, just that I will not be treating his alcohol problem as a joke.
Chapter 33: The Tavern at the End of the Road
Summary:
Trovus, the inebriated speaker of Caer-Konig, offers to treat the adventurers to a round of drinks at the local tavern.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
The inside of the Hook, Line, and Sinker tavern was warm, though a little run down. The tile floor was cracked and bore the stains of countless years of ale, blood and puke. Several battered shields with various coats of arms decorated the walls. The chairs and tables were simple and sturdy. A wood fire burned in a hearth in the corner and the smell of pork stew competed with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Three barrels and a rack of wine bottles stood against one wall.
Eight boisterous people -- five humans, two dwarves and a halfling -- were sitting at three tables that had been pushed together. Two of the human men were staring fuzzily across a table at each other, each with three empty mugs in front of them. One had red hair tied in a braid that reached past his shoulder blades, and his skin had the same wind-burned look as Bjarnson. The other was a silver-haired older man wearing a black hat with a white feather. A half-elf with a bushy mustache and a scarred face was putting a fourth mug in front of each man. As they grasped their drinks, one of the dwarves yelled, "Go!"
Each man raised his mug and began to chug down the contents. The crowd chanted, "Go! Go! Go! Go!" Both men struggled to finish their drinks, but the redhead suddenly pitched forward and vomited on the floor by his chair, his mug clattering to the floor and spilling ale as well. The crowd cheered and patted the other man on the back as he finished his drink.
"Good try," the mustachioed half-elf said, "but we Konigers are tough to beat!" He looked up at the newcomers and his face split into a grin. "Welcome, strangers!" He started over to them. "I'm Eglendar. First round is free," he said as he waved at a table by the door. Six half-sized mugs of ale were there. He grabbed one and pressed it into Eberic's hand. "And Trovus, your usual I assume?"
"Same for my new friends," the silver dragonborn slurred. He raised his voice and said, "Same for the house!"
Another cheer went up from the patrons.
Eberic had replaced his drink on the table, untouched. "We have business," he grumbled and started to step forward.
Pariah had spotted the dwarven woman, Torrga, among the crowd. She had glanced over at the group as they came in, but there had been no flicker of recognition. Of course, she probably saw a lot of customers so she might not remember them. Or she might be so focused on the revelry that she wasn't really looking at them. Knowing this situation might take finesse, the tiefling reached out to put a hand on Eberic's shoulder. She leaned down and said, "Storming over there and demanding answers is just going to make her clam up. Why don't you let one of us do the talking?"
Eberic scowled at her and then nodded. He took one of the half-mugs and drained it. Trovus was already herding them towards a nearby table, which he pushed up against the others to join the party. Eglendar had fetched four half-mugs and set them in front of the others and then headed towards the wine rack.
Pariah looked into her mug. She had expected mead but this smelled like ale. She remembered Scramsax saying ale in Icewind Dale was expensive and terrible, but this was free so she figured she'd try it. She slammed it down, hoping the bad taste wouldn't linger, and was surprised that it was actually quite good.
She said, "I thought there wasn't any ale anymore."
Eberic gave his empty mug a sour look. "Tastes like Drunkstone."
That explanation didn't help her and she gave him a confused shrug.
He continued, "Drunkstone rye grows in certain kinds of clay deposits underground. I remember the local clan finding the right kind of clay, oh, about twenty years back. They started growing Drunkstone rye and making ale out of it but, since the Everlasting Rime, it's saved for Dwarven Valley only. I wouldn't expect to find it outside the mines."
Trovus leaned forward and said in what he probably thought was a conspiratorial whisper, "Eglendar's got friends in low places." He then snorted. "Get it? Low places? Dwarves?" He guffawed as Eglendar came to the table with two uncorked bottles of wine and set them both in the middle of the table.
Trovus snatched one bottle up. "To my new friends!" he declared, and started to drain the bottle. Eberic took the other and looked at the label. "Carrot wine," he said. "Another dwarven product that shouldn't be in Ten-Towns." Despite his grumbling, he poured it into his empty mug and put it back on the table.
Pariah was curious. She poured it and was surprised by the vibrant amber color. She tasted it carefully and, though she could detect a hint of carrot, it mostly tasted like a sweet white wine with a hint of something like cinnamon.
However, they weren't here to drink. She sipped at the wine as she eyed Torrga. She hadn't gotten a good look at her guards back in Bryn Shander so she wasn't sure if any of the people around her were part of the caravan. However, she didn't see the man who hadn't been wearing winter clothes in Bryn Shander. She tried to think of his name, and remembered that Mishann, the priest of Amaunator, had called him Sephek Kaltro.
She didn't want to say anything in front of Trovus. Or did she? She wasn't one to seek out the local constabulary, but he didn't seem to be the usual thug on a city salary. Then again he also seemed like a drunk has-been. Maybe a better way to put it is she didn't want to say anything in front of both Torrga, who might know something about the murders, and Trovus, the law in this town. Nor was this the right environment to have a quiet conversation with the others in her party.
Trovus continued his previous story about the kobold tribe -- something about convincing them that he was a full dragon and getting them to worship him -- but she wasn't really listening. Eberic kept stealing glances at Torrga, and Pariah figured that if she didn't do something, then he would. She glanced over the rest of her companions. Dejen wouldn't be helpful. Zariel could be charming, but might not be a good interrogator. Bjarnson was acquainted with Torrga, but Pariah got the impression he didn't know her well.
She realized she'd never asked him about the possibility that the murderer could be one of Torrga's followers or even the cavern master herself. He wasn't sitting next to her at the moment; Eberic was in between them. She couldn't see a more subtle way of doing this, so she stood up and walked behind the dwarf to lean over and talk quietly in the big redhead's ear.
"Do you think Torrga could be the killer?" she asked.
He glanced over at the woman, who was still ignoring the group. Eglendar had brought bottles of wine to them as well and they were sloppily pouring drinks for everyone. Bjarnson turned back to Pariah. "I wouldn't put much past her, but I don't see her as a religious zealot. Kill you because you owe her a few silvers? Sure. Kill you for the glory of the Frostmaiden? Not really her style."
Pariah ran her eyes over the rest of the revelers. Nobody was wearing the snowflake pendant of an Aurilite like Sephek had been. "What about Sephek, the cavern guard who wasn't bothered by the cold? He seemed pretty intense."
Bjarnson frowned in thought. "True. And I don't see him here."
"I noticed that, too." A thought came to her, and she chewed on it for a few seconds before saying, "I have an idea."
She straightened up and headed around the edge of the crowd towards the caravan master. As she got close she forced a wide grin and said in her most jovial tone, "Torrga? You're Torrga, right?"
The dwarven woman looked up from her drink and said, "That's me. Do I know you?"
"Oh, you probably don't remember me," she said with a dismissive wave. "I bought from you in Bryn Shander." She motioned towards her cold weather clothing.
"You looking to trade? We're closed now, but I could be talked into opening up if you have enough to spend. We're leaving for Dwarven Valley the morning."
"No, although we do have some crag cat hide we might be looking to get rid of." Actually, Bjarnson was hoping to sell that to Skin and Bones in Easthaven, but she was just making conversation at the moment. She leaned in and said in a coquettish voice, "Actually I'm looking for that handsome guard who works for you. The one who isn't bothered by the cold. Sephek I think his name is?"
She felt foolish. She hadn't been flirty in quite a while so was pretty rusty.
Torrga gave a mocking snort. "You're barking up the wrong tree there, sister."
"Oh," Pariah said in disappointment. "Married? Girlfriend? Likes men?"
"It's more that he likes goddesses," the dwarven woman said. She turned to the others at her table and said, "I think he's saving himself for Auril."
She and the others burst into laughter.
Pariah chuckled politely with them. "Well, I'm a pretty cold-hearted bitch too, so maybe that would be good enough for him." They laughed in return. "I'm just looking for someone to warm my bed for the night. Do you know where I could find him?"
"Warm your bed?" she snorted. "Definitely the wrong guy for that. I'm pretty sure he has an icicle in his pants." The table laughed again.
"My people are pretty good at handling the cold," Pariah winked.
Another round of laughter. Man, these people were drunk. Torrga said, "I think you're wasting your time, but he always camps outside. Wants to be 'one with the Frostmaiden's blessing' or some such nonsense. You can probably find him sleeping in the snow somewhere."
"Thanks," Pariah said and started to turn away.
"Don't keep him up too late," Torrga called after her. "We have an early start." Again the table guffawed.
She headed back to the table. She didn't want to just sit down and huddle with the others because that might look suspicious since she was playing the love-starved fan girl. Trovus was on to yet another story of his adventuring days. Dejen was listening raptly but the others didn't seem very interested.
Pariah said, "Let's go drop our stuff off at the inn."
"Nonsense!" Trovus said. He turned and roared, "Eglendar, another round here!"
"No," Pariah said quickly, holding up a hand towards the half-elf. "Trovus, why don't you stay here and keep the celebration going. We'll get our rooms and come back later."
"Nonsense!" he said as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. "What kind of host would I be? We don't get many newcomers in town anymore, especially since those bastards at Easthaven stopped running the ferry."
"Bastards!" came the cry of many voices, followed by raised mugs and more drinking.
Trovus continued, "I'll take you over and make sure you get the best rooms. And then we can come back here and you can tell me your stories."
A voice yelled out, "I got ten gold that says I can drink any of you outsiders under the table."
Eberic grunted and opened his mouth, but the same voice interjected, "Except the dwarf! Being a dwarf is cheating." The customers laughed, and even Eberic cracked a smile.
"We'll be back," Pariah promised, though she had no idea if that was true or not. She just wanted to get out of there and start looking for Sephek.
Trovus looked over the mugs; none of them had finished their second round of drinks. "Waste not, want not," he said as he started finishing the half-empty mugs.
They had no reason to wait for him, so Pariah motioned to the others and they headed towards the door.
The space between the tavern and the inn was an open area, not exactly a market plaza but more of a place reserved for cargo. To their right were two of the town's piers, one badly buckled by the freezing of the lake. Between the piers was a large, dark warehouse. A few other buildings were scattered around the edge of the area, and they looked more like businesses than storage. And then there was the inn.
The Northern Light was a squat, stone building with a steep roof of gray slate and a wide chimney. The most notable feature was the lantern Pariah had seen before. It hung on a hook next to the door and currently burned with a yellow light. As they crossed the open area towards the inn, Trovus hurrying to catch up with them, the lamp flame shifted to green. Dejen gasped and asked, "Does that lantern detect elementals too?" He lifted his own lamp, which he kept burning pretty much all the time now, but it showed a normal flame.
Trovus looked at him in fuzzy confusion. "No, it just changes color. A wizard enchanted it ages ago and now it just...changes color."
"I see," Dejen said in disappointment. Then he brightened up and said, "Still, it's a very interesting effect. Do you know how it was done?"
"Before my time," the dragonborn shrugged.
As they reached The Northern Light, Trovus pushed open the door and headed inside. The floor was covered in blue-gray tiles that had a few chips and cracks, but were otherwise spotless. There was a well-crafted, old desk of reddish wood set up to face the entry way, and the walls were decorated with small oil portraits. An opening led to a cozy dining room to the left, a hallway led right to the rooms, and another short hallway opened at the back. A stove in the corner kept the room warm.
A lithe young human woman with hazel eyes and blonde hair in a pixie cut sat behind the desk. Her clothes were worn and poor quality. Standing over her was a slightly older, stout woman whose face was marked with deep frown lines. Her hair was also blonde, tied in a ponytail that went just past her shoulders. She was saying in a sharp tone, "...and you think you can just charm everyone..."
The younger woman put up a hand to stop her, and turned to the newcomers. Her look of frustration was quickly replaced with a warm, welcoming smile. "Trovus, how lovely to see you."
"Allie, my dear," he replied. "Your warm smile is always welcome on a winter's night."
The older woman scowled at him, snorted in derision, and turned to head down the rear hallway. This corridor was short, with a closed door on each side. She went through one of the doors and slammed it behind her.
Allie's smile tightened just a bit, but she didn't take her attention off the newcomers. "Well, hello," she said, rising to greet them. "I don't think I've seen you in Caer-Konig before." She gasped and put a hand up to her mouth, gushing, "Oh, look at you!" as she spotted Lulu. "Aren't you adorable!"
"Hi," Lulu replied with a smile and a wave.
Zariel said, "We would like three rooms for the evening. Can you put us up?"
"Of course," Allie said, heading back to the desk. "Sadly we don't get the business we used to, so we have plenty of open rooms. How long will you be staying with us?"
Zariel looked back at the group with a questioning expression. "One night? Two?" The others shrugged back, so she continued, "We will probably be moving on once our business is done."
"I see," Allie said with a bit of disappointment. "One gold dragon per person per night. May I ask what your business in our town is?"
There was a pause as the group considered their answer, and the woman quickly said, "Oh, never mind me. I ask too many questions," she said with a dismissive laugh. "Just trying to be friendly."
"We're looking for a murderer," Eberic said as he dropped a gold piece on the desk.
"Oh, my," she said with an appropriate level of shock. She swept up the gold they each had given her, and said, "Well, then it's good you've found our speaker. I'm sure he can help you find this person!"
"Thieves!" Trovus said. "I have to track down those thieves first."
"Well, speaker," she said diplomatically, "if there is a murderer loose in the town, then I think I'd feel safer if he was caught rather than someone who stole a couple of goats."
"And the pearls!" he said, pointing at her with a clawed finger.
"And the pearls," she conceded. "I thought you were close to finding them. Didn't you find tracks at Frozenfar?"
"Yes, but the wind blew them clean pretty quick. I couldn’t tell much other than they seemed dwarf-sized, but they can't be dwarves."
"Why not?" she asked as she retrieved three keys out of the desk.
"Because nobody has heard or seen them. They are sneaky, and nobody's ever heard of a quiet dwarf!" He laughed too loudly and slapped Eberic on the back hard enough to make the dwarf stumble.
Eberic scowled at him and said, "What about duergar?"
Trovus turned an unfocused gaze on him. "Duergar? They haven't been seen in this area for decades."
Pariah said, "Three were seen in Caer-Dineval a few days ago."
"What?" the dragonborn said, turning his unsteady stare on her. "Are you sure?"
She shrugged. "That's what we heard at the castle."
"Duergar," he said thoughtfully. "That might explain it. But why would they steal goats?"
"Maybe they're hungry," Pariah suggested.
Allie said, "Duergar or not, thieves or not, I'm more worried about there being a killer in our midst." She looked at Eberic and asked, "Is this murderer a danger? Has he killed many people?"
"At least six," he said. "Including my closest friend."
Allie gasped again. She reached out to touch him on the shoulder. "Oh, that's awful. Speaker, you must help them."
"We don't need his help," Eberic grumbled. "We'll find him ourselves."
Zariel interjected, "I think that including a member of local law enforcement would be wise. I have made it clear that I will not participate in mob justice. If we find this person, then the speaker can arrest him and we can transport him back to Bryn Shander."
"Where he'll be executed," Eberic reminded her. "And it means we have to travel several days with a killer, and I don't relish that."
Pariah said, "Sheriff Southwell said the same. It's pretty clear he's expecting the 'dead' part of the dead or alive bounty." Seeing Zariel was unconvinced, she reluctantly added, "Maybe if the speaker was with us, then it wouldn't be mob justice."
Zariel gave the drunk silver dragonborn a look of...Pariah wasn't sure what. It wasn't judgment exactly. Maybe sympathy? The blonde woman pursed her lips and said, "I suppose that might suffice. Assuming you would be willing to accompany us on the hunt for this man."
"I don't know," he said. "I’m looking for a group of thieves."
Zariel said in exasperation, "Then perhaps we can assist you in finding those thieves after we find this killer. We have our suspicions who he is, but we need to act quickly before he moves on."
At first, Pariah was ready to object to her volunteering them all to find a bunch of thieves who were probably just stealing to avoid starving, but then she realized that, if they were duergar, it might be in the best interest of the prisoners in Caer-Dineval to find them just to appease Levistus.
As she thought of Caer-Dineval, she remembered the two goats in the kitchen there. It was unlikely but... "Were these goats dark brown? One with a white belly and one with white blotches along his sides?"
"No," Allie replied in confusion. "They were more of a sandy brown. One had no other coloring, and one had a dark rump."
"Ah, never mind. Wrong goats." She said to the others, "Let's go drop our things in our rooms and head out, all right?"
Nobody had an objection, other than Trovus who said, "We should stop for a round at the tavern first."
"No!" Eberic said firmly. "No more delays. We are finding this bastard tonight!"
Notes:
Per the module, the half-elf is named Eglendar "Glen" Korr, but I just couldn't bring myself to call him Glen. I already had a half-elf named Alan in my previous story, and one boring half-elf name is enough!
In the spirit of "I think too much", beer and ale are made from grain. You can make wine from all kinds of stuff, but you have to have grain to make beer and ale. I feel like regular grain would be impossible to grow under these conditions, so I made up some kind of mysterious "dwarven grain" that grows underground.
Chapter 34: Stalking a Predator
Summary:
The party, accompanied by Speaker Trovus, patrol Caer-Konig looking for the Coldheart Killer.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
"Where do we start?" Dejen asked as they gathered in the red light in front of The Northern Star inn.
Trovus started to speak, and Eberic said sharply, "Not the tavern!"
The dragonborn looked offended as he slurred, "I was going to suggest we follow my patrol route. Maybe well find thieves. Maybe we'll find murders."
Pariah asked, "Do you know Sephek Kaltro?"
Trovus made an interrogative grunt and looked puzzled.
She explained, "He's one of the guards with Torg's. He doesn't wear furs or anything like that in the cold."
"Oh, that one," he said in a heavy tone. "Shifty. Well, they're all shifty, but he's especially shifty."
Zariel asked Pariah, "Do you think he's our killer?"
The tiefling shrugged. "We have a man who doesn't feel brutally cold temperatures. And we have a man who cloaks himself in shadow and fights with knives of pure ice. That doesn't seem like a coincidence. He's also pretty vocal about his commitment to Auril."
"True." Zariel frowned. "I wonder if he could have even been involved in the attack on the temple in Bryn Shander."
Pariah hadn't thought about that. "Maybe," she said skeptically. "I’m not sure that fits with his secret murders."
"I would still like to talk to him," she said with a stern glare at Eberic. "We need proof he is guilty of either crime."
The dwarf snorted derisively.
Pariah told him, "She's right. Not only do we need to be sure he's the right one, we need to know if he's working alone. Otherwise, the murders don't stop."
Eberic looked unhappy, but growled, "I s'pose."
Pariah said to Trovus, "Torrga said Sephek sleeps outside. Do you know if he sleeps somewhere special?"
The speaker shook his head. "He wanders a bit when he's here. I find him in different places at different times. Shifty, like I said."
"All right," she said looking up the slope towards the rest of the town. "Then let's follow your normal patrol and see if we find him."
"Should we split up?" Dejen asked hesitantly. "Cover more ground?"
Pariah debated that for a moment but then said, "No, I think he's too dangerous. Let's stay together for now."
Lulu said, "I could look from the air and then come find you all if I see him."
"That's a good idea," Pariah said thoughtfully. "Stay invisible though. We don't want him knowing we're looking for him."
The little angel nodded, drew an imaginary cloak around her, and faded from sight.
Trovus stared at the empty space and whispered, "Did you all see that? Did the snow fairy disappear, or do I need another drink?"
"I think maybe you've had a little too much," Pariah said. "Let's see if the cold sobers you up a little. Lead on."
As he lumbered off, Pariah found herself wondering how useful he'd be if a fight broke out. She was hoping he'd stand back and let them all handle it. Otherwise, they might have to spend time protecting him rather than taking down the killer.
She had little doubt a fight was ahead, if they could find the killer. Despite Zariel's desire for the niceties of an arrest, she doubted the man would give himself up. Plus, as Eberic had pointed out, escorting a killer back to Bryn Shander would be no easy task.
Trovus didn't take them back up the road they had come down to get to the tavern in the first place. Instead he walked along a road that ran between houses along the shore of the lake. It looked like the main roads were two half circles, one an arc along the buildings higher along the slope, and the other the curved road down by the shore they were now following.
The dragonborn regaled them loudly with more tales of his adventures, the current story about when he fought a squad of green-skinned men with silver blood, who could fly on clouds of lightning. Pariah had seen some pretty crazy things, but that sounded like nothing more than a children's fairy tale.
She wished he'd shut up. She didn't like being so obvious about her presence, not that they planned to sneak up on Sephek. Then again, sneaking up on him might catch him in some nefarious act that would seal his guilt. Maybe they'd find him monologuing to the skies about his evil plans like a character in a bad play. That would certainly make their decision easier.
The speaker wasn't really paying attention to their surroundings. Dejen was listening intently to him and making notes, but the others were all on high alert and peering into the streets and alleys around them. They passed a pair of men headed for the tavern who exchanged greetings with Trovus but were quickly on their way.
The road led around the shore of the lake to the lone pier on the other side of the natural harbor. There it turned sharply to start up the slope towards where they had entered town near the demolished caer. The moon had risen ahead but the wind was blowing enough snow that they couldn't see more than a couple of houses down the street.
Lulu appeared hovering in front of the group. "I found him!" she said excitedly. "He's up at the ruined castle. He's just sitting there staring at the castle not doing anything."
Trovus said with excitement, "Has the show started?" He increased his pace and said, "Come on, come on."
"What show?" Pariah asked, hurrying to keep up with him.
"The caer was destroyed in a siege by orcs years ago. The spirits reenact the battle every night. I didn't realize it was so late!"
Zariel asked in alarm, "The ruins are overrun with undead?"
"What?" he said in a scandalized tone. "No, of course not. Well, not really. They aren't dangerous, if that's what you mean. People go up there all the time, even walk among them. They just replay the final battle of the caer and ignore everyone around them."
"There were no spirits though," Lulu said.
"Wonderful!" Trovus said with a sharp-toothed grin. "Then we still have time to get there!"
Eberic said to Lulu, "But you saw Sephek up there?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "He's sitting against a ruined wall staring at the castle. He didn't see me."
"Good," the dwarf said grimly.
Zariel reminded him, "We are talking to him. We will ask about his involvement with the murders and the destruction of the House of the Triad."
"And if he lies?"
"Then we will find the truth," she insisted.
They continued to argue the point while the group hurried up the slope. As they came around a curve in the road, they could see the caer, which had been dark before, but was now limned in ghostly azure light. Although the structure was still in ruins, the walls broken and the main tower collapsed, an image was superimposed over it. The light just made outlines, but it showed how the castle had originally looked. "Hurry," Trovus said. "It'll be starting soon!"
Across the road, sitting on the ground with his back to a low wall, was Sephek Kaltro. He was dressed as before, in sailor's clothes with no armor or cold-weather clothing. He also didn't seem to have any weapons, even a dagger. Pariah knew he could be a spellcaster or something else, so the fact he was unarmed didn't comfort her.
He didn't look over as the group neared. He continued to watch the ghostly castle patiently, his hands wrapped around one knee.
Eberic drew his shortsword and planted himself in front of the man. "Sephek Kaltro," he barked. "Stand and defend yourself."
"Wait," Zariel said, hurrying over. "We are not simply going to attack this man! Speaker, perhaps you should be the one to question him."
Trovus was staring at the castle with a grin. "Yes, yes, in a moment. After the show!"
Sephek looked up slowly at Eberic, seemingly unthreatened by the naked blade. He looked over the rest of the group. Pariah took up a position on the other side of Eberic, on alert in case the man made a move. She had readied her shield as they approached, though her saber was still sheathed. Bjarnson was hanging back, watching the man.
Dejen was watching the ghostly castle, his quill ready to take notes. "That sounds amazing," he breathed.
"Doesn't it?" said Trovus, also facing the castle rather than Sephek. "It plays out a couple of times each night. It's thrilling to watch, even knowing that the castle falls. A real piece of history here."
"Speaker," Zariel said sharply. "Perhaps you should interrogate this man."
Sephek was still sitting, relaxed and unthreatened. "You're blocking my view," he said to Eberic conversationally.
The dwarf tightened his grip on his shortsword. "Stand up," he grated.
Pariah didn't like the way this was going. She put a hand on Eberic's shoulder. "Steady," she said. "Zariel's right. We are talking to him." She turned to Trovus, who was still watching the show. Sharply she said, "Speaker Trovus!" When he turned to her, she said, "Would you like to question him?"
Trovus looked surprised, as though seeing Sephek for the first time. "Oh, right," he said, looking back at the castle to be sure the spirits hadn't appeared. He lumbered over, swaying slightly, until he stood over the seated man. The dragonborn peered down at him and asked, "What do you know about two stolen goats?"
The question seemed to baffle Sephek. Zariel said impatiently, "No, speaker, we are asking him about the murders."
"Murders?" Trovus asked, his scaly brow furrowing. "What murders?"
Zariel looked like she was about to lose her temper, and then Trovus said, "Oh, the murders! The ones in other towns." He waved her off. "I don't care about those. I'm hunting thieves."
"We're wasting time here," Eberic barked. Pointing his shortsword at Sephek, he accused, "You have been committing murders in Targos, Bryn Shander and Easthaven just after the new moon every month. Admit it!"
The man's confusion faded, replaced with a sinister grin. "Oh, those murders."
"Do you deny you are involved?"
"No, of course not," Sephek said conversationally. "Those who defy Auril have to die. I am honored to be the instrument of her vengeance. Now, if that's all, will you please move out of the way? It's about to start."
There was a startled pause among the group. None of them had expected him to simply admit his guilt, especially in front of the speaker.
Eberic grated, "Get up, or I'll kill you where you sit!"
Pariah drew her sword. To Zariel she said, "Are you satisfied with that?"
The warrior unsheathed her own weapon as she said, "Yes. Sephek Kaltro, we represent the sheriff of Bryn Shander. Surrender yourself to our custody and we will take you to Bryn Shander to stand trial."
"Will you?" he said. "Very well." He slowly gained his feet. The glow from the castle behind them cast deep shadows across his face. "But you'll have to catch me first."
And then he wasn't there.
Pariah stabbed forward, suspecting invisibility, but her blade met only air. She looked around, wondering if he had hidden, and then she was abruptly drenched in freezing sleet.
Raising her shield to protect her eyes from the downpour, she saw a small, localized storm dumping freezing rain on the entire area in front of the caer's ruined entry. In front of the spectral image of the castle gates, she saw something more solid. Sephek stood there in the middle of the storm, his arms spread, his head tilted to the sky so the sleet could cascade across his face. A dagger of ice appeared in his hand, and he eyed them with a wolfish grin.
Pariah rushed forward, but the ground had quickly become icy and slick. Her feet slipped out from under her and she sat down hard on the frozen ground. She stood and advanced slowly, sending a beam of icy energy his way. The cold washed over him and didn't seem to affect him at all, which didn't surprise her.
Dejen had moved out of the storm and fired his crossbow at the man. The bolt burst into a cloud of sparkling motes of light that settled on everything around Sephek, outlining him in a bright purple aura.
The others struggled with the icy ground as well, though only Trovus fell. They advanced slowly through the storm, the sleet nearly blinding them. Bjarnson sent a shard of ice from his staff, but Sephek batted it away. Eberic was surprisingly steady on his feet, and managed to get close to the man, but his blows were parried at every turn.
The two of them fenced, one short blade against another, as the others tried to close the gap across the treacherous ground. Sephek's blade slipped past Eberic's defenses, and the point of the blade punched through the dwarf's leather armor and between the ribs on his right side. The dwarf staggered back in surprise.
Sephek pulled out his weapon and pulled back for another blow, but Pariah was there. She smashed her shield into him, knocking him back, and then slashed viciously at him to take his attention off Eberic. Zariel moved up as well, and the both of them closed ranks while Eberic stumbled back. The dwarf slipped on the ice and ended up on his back.
Streaks of flame came in from either side, both hitting Sephek. While Pariah's cold attack hadn't phased him, the fire clearly hurt. Both attacks burned through his clothing and left deep red wounds across his flesh. His face twisted into a feral snarl and his attacks became more vicious. Pariah and Zariel were able to block his attacks with their shields, but their counterattacks couldn't get past his defenses. Trovus lumbered up and launched clumsy, two-handed blows with his battleaxe. Pariah didn't think he was going to hit anything, but it was one more distraction to keep their enemy confused.
Lulu shouted, "Zariel, he's undead!"
"Is he?" the woman said. "Then by the glory of the Morninglord, I will cleanse this place of your evil!"
Zariel's tactics changed. She had been fighting carefully and defensively, but now she attacked with the same ferocity as their opponent. She let her shield drop to the ground and attacked with her longsword using both hands. The blade grew brighter as though fed by her sudden rage, and Sephek began to drop back. The driving sleet stopped, though the ground was still treacherous.
Eberic had regained his feet and circled behind their opponent to stab at his back. Sephek stumbled, not having expected an attack from that quarter, and that gave Zariel an opening. Her longsword slashed sideways, cutting deeply into his chest. A bright flash of energy discharged from the weapon, leaving his flesh burnt and pulling a cry of pain from him. With a feral yell, he disappeared again.
It might have been a clever escape, but he was still glowing from the spell Dejen had cast. Pariah saw a sudden purple light appear on the roof of the ruined caer, and there was Sephek. He flung his dagger at the group and it exploded among them, sending shards of ice at Pariah, Zariel, Eberic and Trovus. He reached out and another ice dagger appeared in his hand. He stepped back from the edge out of sight, though the violet glow made it clear he was still up there.
Zariel and Eberic charged towards the ghostly image of the gate and the caer beyond. Pariah followed them only to get past the spectral outer wall so the illusion wouldn't interfere with her vision. She quickly sheathed her sword, dropped her shield and readied her longbow. She nocked an arrow and carefully watched the rooftop near the purple glow, waiting for Sephek to appear. She was aware of Trovus next to her, raising his crossbow to aim at the same spot, the tip of his weapon swinging back and forth erratically.
She was surprised to hear the clatter of small hooves on the cobblestone street. She glanced away for a split second to see a shaggy, white mountain goat running towards the caer. The animal was at least twice the size of the small domesticated goats she'd seen in the kitchen at Caer-Dineval. It took her a moment to realize that the animal was probably Bjarnson. The goat was not running for the castle entrance; instead it was charging towards the shattered side of the building.
The purple light suddenly winked out. Pariah grated, "Talona's tits." Had he teleported again? Or maybe just run away?
Pariah couldn't see Lulu, but the asteri's voice yelled down, "He still up here by the corner of the roof, but he's all covered in darkness now."
A dagger of ice flew out from the roof and off into the night. Lulu called back, "Ha, ha, missed me!"
Pariah continued to watch the edge of the roof, but if he never showed himself then she was just wasting her time. Should she run after the others? Despite his wounds, Sephek still seemed pretty strong. Zariel was in good shape but Eberic was badly hurt and should really be staying back. The two of them had gotten through the castle door and Pariah could see the glow of Zariel's sword moving up a staircase towards the roof.
Meanwhile, the goat scrambled up the shattered remnants of the left wing of the castle, darting through the glowing images that showed what the building had used to look like. At one point he climbed a nearly vertical wall to leap out on the far side of the roof, out of sight. Pariah heard the hooves running again and then a thud and a cry of pain.
A column of shadow stumbled back into view on the roof, the mountain goat butting it towards the edge. Pariah quickly drew and released her arrow, which passed through the shadow but didn't hit anything inside. Two crossbow bolts, one on fire, also intersected the darkness but also hit nothing.
Lulu suddenly popped into existence near the shadow. "Hey, you, here I am!" She flitted about. "Try to hit me again!"
The shadow ignored her distraction, but Pariah saw the ice dagger stab out of the dark cloud towards the goat that was industriously trying to push him off the edge of the roof. The goat took two bad wounds, and transformed back into Bjarnson. The big man didn't hesitate, and his form shifted to a polar bear, but only his upper body. His claws raked across the darkness, seemingly finding some purchase in there, and then the primal creature transformed back into Bjarnson.
Trying to extrapolate the position of the dagger back to the position of the person holding it, Pariah loosed another arrow. This one stuck in the darkness, which dropped away revealing Sephek with an arrow in his back. A flaming crossbow bolt struck his leg, and again Sephek cried out in pain as the fire touched him.
Eberic charged along the edge of the roof. His footfalls were relatively quiet, and Sephek was distracted so didn't turn to defend against the attack. Eberic's shortsword stabbed into the other man's side and up behind his ribs. Sephek lost his balance and leaned back towards the edge of the roof, but the dwarf reached out with his left hand to grab the man's collar. He twisted his blade as he wrenched it out in a gout of blood that stained the wall of the caer. "Tell Auril I'm coming for her next!" Eberic roared, and then he shoved the man back.
Sephek's arms windmilled for balance, but to no avail. He fell back and hit the ground at the base of the caer with a sickening thud. Pariah rushed forward, another arrow at the ready. He lay there, staring sightlessly at the sky, his left hand clutching the snowflake pendant around his neck, his right hand loosely holding his ice dagger. She nudged the body with her foot but it didn't move.
A freezing cold wind suddenly tore through the courtyard of the caer with a shriek, nearly knocking Pariah off her feet, but then it subsided and returned to a normal level. She stood over the corpse, an arrow still nocked, unsure if the battle was over. Lulu had claimed he was undead, so checking his pulse wouldn't prove anything.
"Look out below," came Eberic's voice.
Pariah looked up and then leapt back to avoid the stream of urine that came from the roof above. The wind scattered the stream as it fell, and only a few drops managed to land on the corpse.
"What the hell?" Pariah said angrily.
"If I had a rear load ready, he'd be getting it worse," the dwarf yelled down.
She shook her head. "Men are weird," she grumbled.
Trovus called out, "The orcs are massing!"
Confused, Pariah whirled around, her longbow at the ready. Ghostly soldiers had appeared on platforms along the hazy image of the wooden palisade surrounding the courtyard they were now in. Through the translucent wall she could see orcs coming up the road carrying a battering ram, their shields raised to cover them from the flurry of arrows coming from the guards along the top of the palisade.
"We should get out of here," she said.
Trovus said, beckoning, "Yes, we should get better seats. It's too hard to see the battle if you are standing in the middle of it like that."
Zariel had come out of the ruined caer. She also had her sword bare, though she had a puzzled look on her face as she looked over the battling spirits. "These are not undead," she declared.
"Well, of course not," Trovus said. "They're just, like, memories. They can't hurt us." To prove that, he walked through the image of the gate up to the orcs and waved a clawed hand through their heads. "See? Just pictures."
Pariah, realizing she'd taken her attention off Sephek, quickly turned but was relieved to see he still lay there in the same position as before. She said, "If Sephek was undead and working for Auril, what are the chances she'll just bring him back."
"It's possible," Zariel conceded. "There are rituals that will prevent him from rising."
"Long rituals?" she asked as she secured her bow.
"Yes. And they require some preparation. We should take the body with us."
Eberic asked, "What if he comes to life before that?"
"Here's a little trick I learned in Hell," Pariah said dryly. She drew her dagger, knelt down next to Sephek, and stabbed the point of the blade just below his breastbone, trying to angle it up to pierce his heart. She pounded it in up to the hilt.
She stood and saw the others watching her with horror. Realizing that this brutal procedure was new to them, she explained, "I had the same reaction the first time I saw someone do that. I know it seems pretty grim, but it's a good way to keep a body from rising."
"I remember," Lulu said quietly.
"Fine with me," Eberic said. "Funny you were so holier than thou about me peeing on him, though."
Around them, the siege continued silently. The orcs assaulted the gate while the guards fired down on them. A group of soldiers assembled in the courtyard, ready to attack the invaders if the gates fell.
Zariel grabbed Sephek by the collar and dragged him towards the wall. The others followed her through the ghostly wooden palisade out onto the narrow street outside. Trovus had taken a seat on the same low, stone wall Sephek had been leaning against. Pariah felt a little absurd watching a show after a battle but, if nothing else, Eberic could probably stand a little rest before they continued.
The battle took only about a half hour. The orcs broke through quickly and, once they did, the castle defenders were quickly overwhelmed. They fought bravely to the last soldier, but they were badly outnumbered and, once the gate fell, they weren't able to fall back to the main castle in time. The orcs stood in the courtyard, shouting silently and shaking their weapons in victory, as the glowing scene faded out.
The moon was up but the sudden loss of light left the area dark as their eyes adjusted. They sat in silence as they each processed what they had seen. It had been both heroic and tragic, both stirring and sad.
"Why did the orcs attack?" Pariah asked.
Trovus said, "When the town was first founded, this was territory claimed by the Many-Arrows orcs, though it's far from their true borders. They raided the town regularly and the castle and palisade were built to protect the town. However, its construction infuriated the orcs so they stepped up their attacks; the castle fell within a year. There's never been much of an effort to rebuild it."
Zariel asked, "Is the town safe?"
Trovus reached for his belt and seemed momentarily confused there wasn't a bottle or wineskin there. "As safe as can be expected. The orcs still used to raid from time to time, but since the Rime started their attacks have dwindled. Trying hard to stay alive, I imagine. Let me treat you all to a drink!"
Zariel said sternly, "We should secure the body first. Do you have a jail here?"
"Not really," he said. "There isn't much crime, and punishment is pretty quick: fines, flogging, execution. There's a storeroom in the barracks we sometimes use if we need to keep a prisoner."
"I feel we should lock up the body just in case. I will conduct my rituals, but I also am concerned that Aurilite cultists could come for him."
"All right," he said, heaving to his feet. He bent down to grab the body and sling it over his shoulder. "Then we'll go celebrate at the Hook, Line, and Sinker!"
Notes:
Since Trovus was with them, I decided to use a souped-up version of Sephek Kaltro. He wasn't quite down to 0 HP, but I let him die because it was narratively appropriate. I really wanted Eberic to get the killing blow but he was struggling to stay up with 1 HP! The biggest problem in the fight was Sephek's AC of 16 instead of 12, plus I added the disadvantage from his Cloak of Darkness.
If I were to run it again, I'd try to avoid having a single enemy. You think I'd have learned that by now! Give him minions rather than trying to make him tougher.
The spirits reenacting of the siege on Caer-Konig was an idea from the "Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion". Originally I was going to have it happening during the battle, but that proved to be too difficult to write so I had them watch a little during this chapter instead.
They got level 3 after killing Sephek, but I'll wait to link the sheets until next chapter. It worth noting that after this many words in my Avernus story, they were level 5. This story is looking like it's going to be much longer than Avernus.
Chapter 35: Beware the Gift Unsought
Summary:
The Coldheart Murderer is dead, and the party plans their next move.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
"Another round," roared Trovus.
Pariah put up a hand to wave off the barkeep, as did everyone else at the table except Eberic. She was already feeling the effect of the numerous drinks the speaker had bought them and preferred to stay at least a little alert. Sephek's corpse was chained up in the barracks storeroom, and Zariel had performed the blessings they hoped would keep him from rising if that was Auril's intent, but Pariah still preferred to be ready if something happened that night.
The barkeep dropped off two more mugs of ale. Trovus didn't seem to notice that most of them weren't drinking, and was happy to enjoy the festive environment of the tavern, which was getting quite crowded as the night wore on. Torrga was there along with her guards; nobody saw any reason to report Sephek's death to her, much less their role in it.
Pariah frowned in concern at Dejen, who was crouched over Sephek's ice dagger that was laying on the table. It hadn't melted or shattered when Sephek had died, and Dejen had thought he detected a hint of magic to it, so had brought it along with them. He had been studying it since. Pariah was reluctant to keep a weapon wielded by a serial murderer working for an evil god, but Dejen was intent on examining it.
He had confirmed that it appeared to be made of ice rather than something like chardalyn. The fact it didn't melt in the warm atmosphere of the tavern led credence to his belief that the weapon was magical. Pariah turned to Zariel and asked, "Can you tell if it's evil or cursed or something like that?" When the other woman looked confused, Pariah nodded towards the dagger.
Zariel gave a sour look to the weapon. "I will pray for guidance this evening, though I am unsure I will receive an answer. I think we should destroy such a thing."
Despite her own reservations, Pariah said reluctantly, "I agree but, considering my past, I have to admit that sometimes even evil powers can be used to do good."
"That is a dangerous path," the other woman warned.
As we both know, Pariah thought to herself.
Bjarnson said, "When Dejen is done with his studies, I would like to meditate on it myself. See if I can sense unnatural forces like those in the black ice. I don't know if I'll be able to detect anything, but I'd like to try."
"Every little bit helps," Pariah said.
Eberic rubbed his ribs, saying, "I can tell you that that blade is more powerful than it seems. I'm lucky he didn't kill me when I faced him in Bryn Shander." He grimaced and said with difficulty, "I guess I never thanked the rest of you for helping me bring him down. And thank you," he said to Bjarnson, "for keeping me this side of death."
Bjarnson gave him a nod.
Zariel said, "I, for one, was glad to help. This place is better off with one less undead horror walking the streets."
Pariah asked Eberic, "So what now?" She furrowed her brow. "I think you said you live in Termalaine with your wife. Are you going to go home to her now?"
"That had been my plan," he said vaguely.
She noted his phrasing. "And now?" she prompted.
He drank from his mug before replying. "There is a lot more going on than I had planned for. Duergar. Caer-Dineval being‑" He struggled to finish but nothing more came out of his mouth. He relented with an annoyed grunt, and settled for saying, "The speaker being sick."
Trovus said, "Old Crannoc is sick?" He snorted. "Probably making his servants miserable with his whining."
Again Eberic struggled to speak, but then said weakly, "Something like that." He continued, "The point is, I don't know that I'd feel right going home and putting my feet up in front of the fire with all that going on. Dwarven Valley isn't safe. Caer-Dineval...is...struggling because their speaker is sick. Dammit! You know what I mean!"
"We know," Pariah assured him. The geas was obviously still preventing them from saying anything about the Black Swords cult.
He glowered at the rest of them. "What do you all plan to do?" he said.
Zariel answered, "Our first priority should be to get Sephek back to Bryn Shander. How long will that take, Bjarnson?"
He said, "With decent weather, three days. Maybe two if we are willing to push ourselves."
Pariah didn't relish that trip, especially hauling a corpse. "I know I've asked this before but I forgot the answer. What would it cost to get a sled?"
The big man said, "For a group this size, two sleds, minimum three dogs per sled." He turned to Trovus. "Speaker, do you think we could find that here?"
"Sure," Trovus slurred. "Frozenfar should have that. Run you about two hundred dragons total." He was looking glassy eyed, but she hadn't known enough dragonborn in her life to know if that was normal or not.
Pariah asked, "Is there a way to buy a ride?"
The dragonborn crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. "Maybe, but it's likely to be a few days before you find anyone heading that way," he mumbled, his eyes closing. "There isn't really much regular traffic between the towns, especially the smaller ones. Maybe in Easthaven but not here. Tell Eglendar I want another round."
"We have a hundred gold bounty waiting for us in Bryn Shander," she mused. "Anyone willing to give us credit against that?"
He didn't answer and, from his slow breathing, she suspected he was passed out. She looked at the rest of them and said, "I guess we can ask in the morning. Maybe we should go back to the inn. If we are leaving tomorrow, we probably want to get on the road early."
"What about him?" Zariel asked, nodding towards the speaker.
"Let me ask the barkeep," Pariah said, getting to her feet. "I get the impression this is common."
Eglendar was back by the barrels, watching the room. He gave her a friendly smile as she approached. "Heading out?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. She looked over at the sleeping dragonborn. "About him..." she said and then trailed off.
"We'll make sure he gets home," he assured her. "We always do."
She pursed her lips as she looked at Trovus. "Look, it's none of my business, but-"
"You're right," Eglendar said, politely but firmly. "It's not." In a softer tone, he said, "Speaker Trovus has quite a reputation in this town. He has earned our respect, and none of us take kindly to people badmouthing him."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she assured him. "I was just concerned. I had a friend who used to numb the pain like that until she dealt with the source of it. As for Trovus, tonight he..." She stopped, realizing it might be best not to talk about the fight. Instead she finished, "...told us a lot of stories about his exploits."
The barkeep chuckled. "And you want to know if they are true? As near as I can tell, they all are. Some of the details are a little exaggerated, but the stories are real. He was quite the hero in his day."
"I can believe it. Well, good evening then."
She headed outside with the rest of her group, letting them know that Eglendar would attend to Trovus. Bjarnson said to Dejen, "If you're done with your studies, I thought I might take a look at it."
"Certainly, " Dejen said, handing the dagger over. "It has a weak enchantment on it. As near as I can tell it sometimes causes spikes to jut out from the sides, creating vicious wounds, but the magic seems unreliable."
"Reliable enough," Eberic grunted, patting his injury.
Pariah said, "And did you find any trace of curses or anything?"
"No," Dejen said hesitantly, "but such nefarious magic is often difficult to detect. I can't say it's safe."
Pariah looked at the weapon in Bjarnson's hand. "Magic or not, I don't want it. Does anyone else, or should we just try to sell it?"
Nobody seemed particularly interested, until Eberic frowned at it and said, "Having been on the wrong side of it, I have to admit it seems like a good weapon. A bit smaller than I'm used to, but I might want to give it a try." He saw the look on Pariah's face and said, "You don't agree?"
She didn't realize she'd been frowning so hard. "It's not that. I had a friend who got a cursed sword. It changed her personality, and it was difficult to get it away from her once we realized the problem."
The dwarf considered that, and then said, "Well, let's see what the goat man says first."
Pariah hesitated in confusion, having been called "goat girl" before, but realized he was talking about Bjarnson, and the epithet had seemed like banter rather than an actual insult.
The big man grinned down at the dwarf. "Well, this goat man is going to head down to sit by the water. I'd rather get a little ways away from the town so I can attune to natural forces more easily."
"I'll go with you," Pariah said. "I don't think anyone should be alone out there."
Eberic said, "As for me, I think I need to lie down." He rubbed his ribs.
After some more discussion, they decided that Zariel and Dejen would go to the inn as well, while Lulu would accompany the other two down to the lake, staying in contact with Zariel. None of them were comfortable about splitting up, but Bjarnson said his meditation shouldn't take long.
He walked behind The Northern Light and down towards the lake shore. The moon was nearly full so they could see fairly well as they walked across the snowy land. Nothing seemed to be stirring in the surrounding tundra, and Pariah suspected that wild animals probably didn't come this close to town. On the other hand, duergar might, so she stayed alert.
Once they reached the ice sheet that led out onto Lac Dinneshere, Bjarnson walked a ways down the shore away from town until he found a spot he liked and then he sat cross-legged, facing the lake. Lulu flitted around exploring, though didn't go far. Pariah hesitantly sat down next to him. "So what are you going to do?" she asked.
He placed the dagger on the snow, its tip pointing towards him. "I'm going to ask the world if this weapon is dangerous to use."
"And the world will tell you?"
He grinned at her. "With luck, yes. It is language beyond language."
"I think I understand. I think I felt it back in Caer-Dineval. The dogs were barking and restless and I was able to, I don't know, understand them. I could feel their emotions, their energy, and I was able to calm them." She shrugged. "Maybe it was just coincidence."
His smile widened. "I am pleased to hear that. Now that I know more about the origin of your power, I see why you are looking for a different way to express it."
He didn't seem as uncomfortable with her as he had back in Caer-Dineval. Maybe he had gotten over his initial shock; maybe he was being more careful with his emotions around her. Eberic had been focused on his own obsession, and Dejen on his studies, so she wasn't sure how either of them felt.
She said, "So is talking to the world like talking to animals?"
"Kind of. It's something done on a very intuitive level. I will ask the question and then study the signs nature gives me. I interpret them to deduce what the answer is."
"Oh," she said, a little disappointed.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.
"Please, ask. I'm happy to explain how this kind of magic works."
She hesitated, not wanting to insult him. "It's just...well...if you are interpreting signs, aren't you just seeing the answer you want?" Quickly she added, "Never mind. That was rude."
"No, not at all," he said, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. "It's a fair question, and it is a risk. It is important to be aware of your preconceptions and try to empty your mind, but there is always the chance that I will interpret the signs as I see fit. There is also the danger of interpreting every bird flight as an omen." He gave her a gentle smile. "To be honest, I've never been good at this kind of divination, but I keep trying."
"OK, that's fair," she laughed. "Let's see what you see."
He rested his hands on his knees and released a long breath. He whispered something she didn't hear, and then looked out across the lake. He watched the water. He studied the swirls of snow the wind occasionally produced. He looked up at the stars. His head turned as a wolf howled in the distance, and his eyes followed the path of an owl that flew by.
He said nothing and the minutes stretched out. Pariah looked at the things he studied, but they just seemed random to her. She wanted to ask him what he saw, but didn't want to interrupt him.
Rowan had done this kind of thing, but somehow petitioning an actual god for an answer seemed more credible than simply asking the world. Tymora's portents had been vague, and the prophecy from the soothsayer in Caer-Dineval had been cryptic and unhelpful, but this seemed like a waste of effort.
Time wore on. Lulu eventually settled on Pariah's knee, swinging her legs restlessly. They chatted a bit telepathically as they waited for him to finish.
Finally, after a good fifteen or twenty minutes, Bjarnson reached down to pick up the dagger and study it. After a time, he said, "It's possible that this item is not cursed."
"I see," Pariah said, disappointed.
He climbed to his feet. "I know that's not very helpful, but I have a strong feeling that this object is safe. Well, not for the person on the sharp end, but for the wielder."
She stood as well. "I'm still a fan of selling it, or even just chucking it in the lake."
"What happened to the cursed sword your friend had?"
"We dropped it into the River Styx," she said as they started back towards the inn.
He looked down at her quizzically. "You aren't joking, are you."
"No," she replied with an embarrassed chuckle. "My past is a little unbelievable."
"You literally went to Hell," he said in disbelief.
"Well, just a little." Wanting to change the subject, she said, "And it's not like I can change into a goat or a reindeer. That seems much more impressive."
He laughed. "I guess it depends on your point of view."
They walked in silence, and then she said, "Do you trust me?"
He seemed puzzled by the question. "To be honest, I don't really know you."
"That's not what I mean." She thought about how to ask the question. "Do you trust me less than you did a couple of days ago? Before you knew about Levistus?" She was a little surprised she could say his name, but guessed that was because nobody else was around to hear so the geas wasn't in force.
They walked in silence as he thought about his answer. She waited patiently. As they neared the door of the inn, and the lamp of shifting colors hanging above it, he said, "I guess I’m not sure." He stopped, his hand on the handle of the door. "I'm not happy you hid something so important about your past, but then again I'm from Lonelywood, the town of new beginnings." He turned to face her. "I don't necessarily mistrust you. You seem to mean well. But...well...I don't care for your former associate."
She gave him a sour grin. "I don't like him either. Here's hoping we won't have to deal with him too much."
He opened the door and they headed inside. Lulu said to Bjarnson, "You can trust her. She always tried to help people, and she often ignored..." She broke off and seemed to be struggling to speak.
Pariah was puzzled by the way she suddenly stopped talking, but then realized that Allie was coming down the hall, a bed warmer pan in her hand. Lulu, succumbing to the geas, finished resignedly, "...you-know-who."
Allie smiled at them. "Good evening. Are you turning in? I'll be in with the bed warmer in a moment."
"No hurry," Pariah said. "I'll be up for a little bit."
As Allie headed towards the dining room, they walked down the hall. Pariah nodded good night to Bjarnson as she reached her room. He held up the dagger and said, "I'll drop this with Eberic."
Pariah entered her room with a polite knock. It was a typical inn room: not much space, one oil lamp on the wall providing dim light, two narrow beds, a table with a basin and ewer, a small brazier providing feeble heat. Zariel was out of her armor, though her sword and shield were leaned against the wall near the door ready for action. "So how did it go?" the warrior woman asked.
Pariah shrugged as she started to remove her own armor. "He thinks maybe it's not cursed."
Zariel sat on the bed, an unsatisfied look on her face. "That's not a ringing endorsement."
Lulu said, "We'll watch Eberic and make sure he doesn't end up like Lythienne."
Pariah grinned and said, "He's kind of grumpy already. I'm not sure we'll see a difference."
Zariel asked, "Lulu, do you want to stay tonight or shall I send you back to Mount Celestia?"
"Well," the asteri replied slowly, "I can stay if you want."
Zariel smiled warmly at her. "It's fine. I know you get bored at night. I'll send you back."
"OK. Call me if anything happens."
"I will. See you in the morning."
"Good night," Lulu said enthusiastically. She waved at Pariah. "Good night, Pariah."
"Good night," Pariah grinned at her.
Zariel drew a circle in the air around Lulu, and the little angel flashed out of existence.
As Zariel started to get under the thick covers, Pariah said, "I'm going to sit up for a bit. Will the light bother you? I can go out to the dining room."
"No, that's not necessary. It will be fine. Good night." She turned to face the wall.
Pariah got out her journal and sat up in her bed, her back against the wall. She could hear Eberic moving next door. She wrote about their travel from Caer-Dineval and their fight with Sephek. She again tried to write about Levistus and the Black Swords, but couldn't manage a single letter. Frustrated, she closed the notebook and returned it to her pack.
As she had done every night, she pulled out the book about the priests of Berronar Truesilver. She opened it up to run her eyes down the dwarven characters, knowing she couldn't read the Dethek text.
The priesthood was supposed to act as the moral compass of their people, but their overly rigid views often led them to teach outdated lessons or adopt ethics that didn't fit the changing needs of the population.
Pariah froze, rereading the words. Was there a sentence of Chondathan inserted into the text? She flipped more pages.
On that Midsummer Night, those of the home had arranged the usual above ground celebrations and rites. Their pointed exclusion of the non-dwarves in the community created a lot of tension in a city that already resented the dwarven minority due to the events of the previous month.
The characters were clearly dwarven; she knew that because the same alphabet was used in Jotun, which she did know. And yet as she ran her eyes over words she had no way of knowing, their meanings were clear.
"Zariel?" she said, her heart pounding.
"Yes?" the woman asked sleepily.
"Do you speak Dethek?"
"No." Zariel turned her head, though not quite far enough to look at Pariah. "Why?"
Pariah kept staring at the words, afraid that if she looked away the spell would be broken and they would be meaningless again. Despite that, she tore her eyes away and said, "I'll be back."
She hurried out to the hall, not quite closing the door behind her. She was barefoot and the stone floor was cold against the soles of her feet. She went next door and knocked. An annoyed voice on the other side said, "What?"
"Eberic, I need you to read something. Can I come in?"
She heard him grumbling, his voice coming closer, and then the door opened. He was in his underclothes and frowned up at her. "Can this wait until morning?"
"Just one thing." She opened the book and pointed to the passage. "How would you translate this bit into Chondathan?"
He sighed and looked at the page. "On that Midsummer Night, the faenor had arranged the usual above ground celebrations and rites. Their pointed exclusion of the non-dwarves in the community created a lot of tension in a city that already resented the dwarven minority due to the events of the previous month."
That wasn't quite what she'd read. "Faenor? What does that mean?"
"That's what they call the priests of Berronar," he said impatiently.
"But what does it mean? Literally."
He blew out a breath. "It would be something like 'those of the home'."
She looked back at the book. "Thank you," she said distantly as she wandered back down the hall.
Eberic grumbled something and then slammed his door shut.
She returned to her room to see Zariel propped up on her elbows. "What's wrong?" she asked in concern.
Pariah couldn't answer right away. All those books, she thought to herself as she sat on the bed. All that knowledge open to her. She could read everything in Candlekeep if she wanted. She had never cared about the magic, but losing her literacy had hurt more than the burns on her skin.
Was this something else she had "stolen" from him? Or was it a bribe? Was he tempting her back into his service?
I never served him! she mentally shouted at herself.
That's what she kept saying, but how true was it? She had rebelled and argued, but too often had gone ahead and done what he asked anyhow. She had pretended independence while still using the power he gave her. In the end, even after she had turned her back on him, it had been his plan that had defeated Zariel and saved Elturel.
And now, they were considering going after the duergar who interfered with his current scheme, maybe even using his help to stop Auril herself. For what? So he could be more powerful? So he could recruit more followers?
What did he want with Icewind Dale?
Maybe Zariel was right: allying with a devil was foolish, even against someone as powerful as Auril. And yet, should the people of Icewind Dale continue to suffer under the tantrum of a temperamental, self-indulgent goddess?
Gods, I wish Rowan was here, she thought, not for the first time.
"Pariah?" Zariel said, sitting up fully. "What is happening?"
The tiefling forced herself to look up at the other woman. Pariah wasn't sure what to make of Zariel yet. She seemed to be trying to find a new path, but how much of the devil or even the corrupted angel was still in her? The mortal woman before her was physically so different from the gray-skinned, fire-crowned devil who had stood over her on the battlefield, and yet there was an otherworldly aura to her, an inhuman energy that Pariah hadn't really noticed before. She was a little afraid of it.
And yet, she couldn't think of anyone in a hundred miles who would better understand what was happening to her.
"Call Lulu back," Pariah said. "We should talk."
Notes:
Bjarnson used augury as a ritual even though he didn't have it ready. That's a sort of story house rule for when I need a spell but don't want to juggle changing prepared spells.
The dagger is a vicious dagger. I forced a crit on Eberic during the battle because I wanted an in-combat demonstration of it. It downed him but Bjarnson brought him back up with healing word.
I gave Pariah the warlock invocation eyes of the rune keeper in place of the Horizon Walker's detect portal. It's just too important to her character to leave out. That was the spoiler that prevented me from linking their character sheets before, so here they are:
Pariah Level 3. As you can see her subclass is the homebrew Ex-Warlock, which is based on Horizon Walker with a few tweaks like the above.
Dejen Level 3 was a huge pain because of all the homebrewing (laserllama's Alternate Artificer as well as his Archivist specialization). He gets a cantrip called information overload from that specialization; it's kind of a lesser dissonant whispers. His spells are also a pain because default Artificer is "spells prepared", while laserllama's is "spells known".
Bjarnson Level 3 required a little homebrew tweaking to add circle spells because laserllama's Circle of the Land is different.
Zariel Level 3 and Eberic Level 3 were pretty straightforward, with no homebrew.
Chapter 36: The Morning After the Night Before
Summary:
The group prepares to leave Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
Pariah yawned loudly. She was sitting at a table in the dining room of The Northern Light eating breakfast with the others, and she was exhausted. She wanted to go back to bed, but she knew they had a long trip ahead so they should get on the road as early as possible.
She had been up half the night with Zariel and Lulu talking about Levistus, though none of them had any conclusions. They shared her concern that her new ability was an attempt to lure her back into a pact, though she adamantly refused to return to such an agreement. She was pleased that both of them had seemed to believe her when she said that. She knew it was true, but could understand that others might doubt her.
Unfortunately, the three of them had come to no conclusions. Trap or not, there wasn't much they could do about it. Zariel had examined Pariah's skin again, but still found no sign of her contract returning. Eventually, with no other ideas on how to proceed, they had gone to sleep.
A storm had blown in during the wee hours, battering the inn with screaming winds. It woke Pariah up and she had worried it would tear the roof off, but she told herself this wasn't the first blizzard this building had survived. Eventually, she had managed to get back to sleep. When she woke up, the storm had passed and the wind outside was quiet.
She yawned again, and Bjarnson said, "Didn't sleep well?"
"Not really," she said with a weak smile. "Up late reading." They had decided they wouldn't go out of their way to tell the others what had happened. Pariah didn't like keeping it from them, especially since she had promised to be honest about her interactions, but she had seen how they reacted to her past with Levistus before. She'd rather be sure it was nothing before talking to them about it. Zariel hadn't been pleased with the decision, but agreed that for now they would keep it a secret.
"Reading about the faenor is that interesting?" Eberic grumbled.
She laugh nervously. "More interesting than you might think. Sorry about that, by the way. I'm just learning to read Dethek and I wanted to be sure my translation was right."
He frowned at her and then said something to her in Dethek.
She gave an even more nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just read it, not speak or understand it." She knew she was making herself look suspicious, so she changed the subject by saying, "Have we figured out how we are going to transport the body?"
At the next table sat a human man and woman, who stopped their conversation and turned to give her a strange look. She realized she probably should have said that part a bit more quietly.
Bjarnson raised his eyebrows at her. "I can rig a travois. It shouldn't slow us down much."
Eberic said, "I should stop for a new sheath for this." He tapped the ice dagger lying on the table. "There's an outfitter up the road."
The front door opened, and a pair of men and a halfling woman entered the inn. They came into the dining room, where one of the men greeted Allie, who was bringing two mugs of hot tea to the table next to Pariah. As they sat at a table, the man said to her, "Did you finally bring the lantern in to keep it from being stolen?"
She set down the mugs in front of the two customers with a polite smile, and then turned to him with a puzzled expression. "No, why?"
He looked equally confused. "Because it's not there."
Allie paused for a moment, and then her hazel eyes widened. "What?" she said in alarm, and then she hurried to the door. She flung it open and rushed out to look at the wall outside next to the door. "It's gone!"
She came back in, closed the door and rushed to the kitchen. In a panic she said, "Cori, the lantern is gone!"
"What?" the other woman's voice shrieked from behind the heavy curtain. A frowning Cori came bustling out of the kitchen to go outside and verify for herself. She came back in, slamming the door behind her. "I told you!" she said, pointing a finger at Allie. "I said we should lock it up, or at least bring it inside."
Timidly, the younger woman said, "I just thought it would attract more customers-"
"And how many customers will it attract now that it's been stolen?" Cori demanded.
One of the men at the table said, "Now, Cori, that's enough. She didn't mean to-"
"She never means to!" the woman bellowed, turning her anger on him. "But somehow she always does!" She turned back to her sister. "Go fetch the speaker immediately."
"All right, I'll just go get my coat."
"And while you're getting your coat, the thieves are getting farther away. Go get him now!"
Allie shrunk back from her. "All right," she said in a small voice.
The man, who still had his furs on, stood up and said, "Allie, you stay here. I'll get the speaker." He glared at Cori before heading towards the door.
Cori said nastily, "There you go, charming the men to do your work for you."
"That's enough!" Pariah snapped, standing. "You've made your point, now go back to the kitchen." She put her arm around Allie's shoulders. "Come here, sit down for a moment."
Cori glared but then sniffed and stormed through the curtain back to the kitchen. Allie watched her go nervously, and then let Pariah guide her to a chair. Pariah thought about getting her a sip of mead to calm her down, but it was a little early for that.
Dejen said, "Does the lantern detect elementals?"
Allie looked at him, momentarily nonplussed by his question. "No?" she said uncertainly. "It just changes colors."
Pariah explained, "He has a lantern that turns green when elementals are near."
"Oh," Allie said, looking less confused. "No, it doesn't do anything like that. It just changes colors."
"But it's magical?" Pariah asked. She thought she had detected a hint of an aura from Sephek's ice dagger, so wondered if her ability to see magic was coming back as well.
"I mean I guess so," Allie said. "But it's just a silly trick. It's not worth anything to anyone except us."
Bjarnson stood. "I'm going to go look for tracks or other clues." He added, "In case my eyes are sharper than the speaker's."
Dejen got to his feet as well. "I'll go with you, see if we can spot any clues."
As they left, Pariah said, "Do you think it could have been anyone local? Has anyone seemed really interested in the lamp?"
"Oh, no," Allie said emphatically. "Nobody here would steal it. It's one of the town landmarks. Only an outsider would..." She trailed off and flushed slightly.
Pariah chuckled. "It's fine. And you're right; an outsider is much more likely to be the thief."
Eberic had been tapping his fork on the table restlessly. "If it's related to the other thefts, we might know which outsiders to look at first."
"Oh?" Allie said, raising her eyebrows. "Who?"
Eberic paused, and Pariah wondered if he didn't want to spread rumors of duergar. If nothing else, if they were in the area, it would be best for them not to realize they were being hunted. She jumped in and said, "We've heard of a group of bandits working the eastern towns. In fact, Caer-Dineval wanted us to look for them."
"Is that why you're here?" she asked. "Is one of them the murderer you are hunting?"
"No," Pariah said slowly. "Not exactly."
"Oh, I'm doing it again," she said, embarrassed. "None of my business."
The door banged open and Trovus stumbled in along with the man who had gone to fetch him. The dragonborn lurched into the dining room and sat heavily in a chair, putting his head between his claws with a groan. "Allie, dear, fetch me some wine, will you?"
She gave him a disapproving look and said, "You know we have only mead here. Eglendar won't be open yet. Best cure for a hangover is a lot of water."
"Mead's fine," he mumbled. "And keep it coming."
As she headed towards the kitchen, he looked blearily at the others at the dining room. He grinned as he saw Pariah and her companions. "Hey, there! Quite a night last night, wasn't it?"
"Quite a night," she agreed. "So the lantern outside has been stolen."
"It has?" he said in surprise.
The man who had gone to fetch him said, "Yes, speaker. I told you that when I came and got you."
"Right, right," he said, rubbing his head. "I remember now. I should go look for clues and such."
Pariah said, "A couple of us are outside looking already."
"Oh, good, good, good," he said, and then he brightened up. "Then you're going to help me hunt down the thieves?"
Pariah waffled, and Zariel answered, "We need to transport the body of the murderer back to Bryn Shander." She had run over to the barracks that morning to confirm the body was still there.
Allie came from the kitchen carrying two large mugs. The speaker lit up. "Allie, my dear! Always a vision!"
She put one mug in front of him. Trovus looked into it and frowned. "This is water," he said.
"You'll drink one mug of water for every mug of mead," she replied.
"Don't be silly," he said, reaching for the other mug in her hand.
She stepped back, moving the mug out of his reach. "Drink your water first," she insisted.
"All right, all right," he said, eyeing the mug of water sourly. "You're always taking care of me." He drained the mug and then slammed it down on the table with an "Ahhhh." She reluctantly put the other mug in front of him, and he drained it just as fast. "Another!" he said.
She pursed her lips but gathered both mugs and headed back into the kitchen.
Bjarnson and Dejen came back in. Pariah asked, "So what did you find?"
As they sat at the table, Bjarnson said, "Tracks of two people heading northwest, almost dead on towards Kelvin's Cairn."
"Dwarves?" Eberic asked.
"That'd be my guess," Bjarnson confirmed.
"Can't be dwarves," Trovus said. "Nobody's ever heard of a quiet dwarf!" He roared with laughter, and Eberic just rolled his eyes at the repeated joke. The fact the speaker didn't say anything about duergar made Pariah wonder if he'd forgotten their previous conversation.
Trovus continued, saying, "You know, you people were a lot of help when I took down that killer last night. Maybe you could help me track these thieves. I can take them down myself, of course, but I wouldn't mind letting you tag along."
Allie had come out with the next round while he had been speaking. She said brightly, "Oh, that works out. They are hunting the bandits anyhow."
Trovus gave them an unfocused look and said, "You are? I thought you were hunting a killer."
Pariah stammered as she tried to come up with a response. There were eight other people in the dining room, though she noticed that didn't include the people from Torg's. While that was strange, that was a thought for later. The point is that everyone in the dining room was openly listening to this conversation, so there was no way to have a private huddle with her companions about doing a favor for Levistus.
Eberic said, "We need to get the body back to Bryn Shander, both for the bounty and to be sure it's properly disposed of."
Dejen added, "But we are hunting those bandits as well."
Bjarnson leaned back in his chair. "Wind's quiet now, but once it kicks up, those tracks are going to disappear. If we're going to follow them, we need to go now."
Pariah was torn. She had no problem helping the people of this town, but was reluctant to do what Levistus wanted. On the other hand, Allie was giving them puppy dog eyes right now and looked like she was on the brink of tears, so that made it harder for her to refuse.
Reluctantly she said, "We don't actually know where they are." She looked at Bjarnson. "What's your guess on where they are holed up?"
"Both the tracks I saw and the tracks the speaker found before pointed towards Kelvin's Cairn and, while that's not a guarantee they are there, the mountain is riddled with caves and tunnels so has plenty of places to hole up."
"How far is it?"
"At least a full day on foot with good weather."
A full day out, a full day back, plus who knew how long it would take to deal with any duergar they found.
Trovus interjected, "On foot? Nonsense. We'll take sleds out there."
"We don't have a sled," Pariah said.
He made a dismissive wave. "Oh, I can borrow some from Frozenfar. Couple hours each way."
Pariah looked at Bjarnson for confirmation and he nodded.
The group hesitated as they each considered the pros and cons of helping. Trovus said, "I'm afraid I can't offer you much of a reward for helping out, other than doing your civic duty."
Allie said, a little desperately, "You'd be welcome to stay here free if you can get our lantern back."
"What?" came a sharp voice from the kitchen. Cori poked her head out. "Are you giving away rooms again?"
"It's only fair," Allie said firmly but with a quaver in her voice.
The sour-faced woman looked over the group, and said, "Fine. But only the five of you!"
"Six," said Lulu indignantly.
Cori sighed, "Yes, the little flying pest, too." She pulled back into the kitchen.
Pariah figured there was no harm in negotiating a little. "Any chance we could keep the sleds after as a reward?"
Trovus hemmed and hawed before saying, "Well, Frozenfar might be willing to give you a discount if you get their pearls back, but that's not up to me."
Zariel said, "It sounds like we could be back this evening and still be ready to leave tomorrow. I say we help this man arrest some thieves."
Pariah watched the dragonborn down another mead. She said, "Trovus, why don't you stay here and keep an eye on the town. We'll track down the thieves." In addition to her normal reluctance to hang out with the city guard, she wasn't sure she wanted to babysit a drunk.
"Nonsense," he said. "It's my job to protect the town. I'll come along and we'll whup these lawbreakers."
Zariel nodded, "I agree. Having a member of local law enforcement will add gravitas to our effort."
Nobody else seemed to have an opinion either way, so they all fetched their belongings while Trovus had one more for the road. And then they waited in the dining room while he had one more for the road.
Pariah took this opportunity to shove a document in front of his face. She had written up a brief description of what had happened with Sephek, in particular the fact that he had admitted to being the Coldheart Killer. "Can you sign this as testimony for Sheriff Southwell in Bryn Shander so we can get our bounty?"
Trovus read the paper with bleary eyes. "Yes, fine," he said distractedly. He clumsily signed his name with the pen and ink provided by Dejen. The latter blew the ink dry then folded the letter and stashed it inside his coat.
The speaker drained his mug, lurched to his feet, and roared, "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" and lumbered out the front door.
Trovus led them up the main road to a structure Pariah had noticed the night before. It was a wide, square building with stone walls plastered in mud. The steeply pitched roof was colored green, but the peeling paint showed it was gray slate underneath. Behind the building, a large area was delineated by a low, wooden rail fence and she saw several sled dogs playfully fighting and rolling in the snow. The building had the plain, functional look of a harbor warehouse. A sign above the door read "Frozenfar Expeditions" in simple block letters.
Inside, the large space was filled with shelves that bore stacks of fishing supplies like tackle, hooks and rope as well as woodsman's axes, mountain climbing equipment, and a variety of packs and bags. Another section carried a collection of simple but sturdy clothing next to piles of fur coats and gloves. There was an area for food, which mostly consisted of dried meat and fish with a few root vegetables. Finally there was a section with a few weapons and pieces of armor. The shelves were half empty, an obvious sign of the times, but it still seemed like a decent selection for such a small town.
A short human man with a shaven head was arranging a set of carpentry tools on one of the shelves. He was dressed in bright colors and he turned to examine the newcomers through eyeglasses with silver frames.
"Good morning, speaker," he said cheerfully, turning away from his work to greet the customers. He smiled at the others and said, "Welcome to Frozenfar Expeditions. I think you'll find we carry everything you need."
Trovus said, "Morning, Atenas. I was wondering if I could borrow your sleds. I think we found tracks of those thieves who stole your pearls and we wanted to follow them."
"Oh really?" the man said, clearly pleased. "I'm so happy to hear that. Of course you can take them. The dogs have been fed so they should be ready to go. Need anything for the trip? Rations? Climbing equipment? Arrows?"
"Just food for the dogs. One day...nah, make it two just to be sure." He turned to the others. "You all need anything?"
Eberic said, "I need a dagger sheath."
Atenas grabbed a coat off a hook at the back of the shop. "Then I'll get the dogs harnessed. Go ahead and browse. Sheathes will be with the weapons." He pointed to a section of shelves.
Bjarnson said to Atenas, "I can help with the dogs."
A thought occurred to Pariah and she said, "I'll come too."
Trovus decided to fetch his things while they were hooking up the team, and Zariel and Lulu went with him. Dejen and Eberic stayed in the shop looking over the goods.
As Pariah followed the shopkeeper and Bjarnson out the back door, a dozen dogs came running up to investigate the newcomers. Pariah laughed as they crowded around, sniffing at her. She could feel how energetic they were, and yet they were happier than the dogs in Caer-Dineval. These were dogs that got regular runs, though she didn't know how she knew that.
Atenas turned up a pair of lanterns to light up the corral, and then he and Bjarnson started harnessing the dogs to the two sleds. Pariah didn't know what to do so mostly just tried to stay out of their way, though she watched intently. The dogs were well trained and lined up as soon as Atenas snapped his fingers.
Bjarnson, presumably realizing she was new to Icewind Dale, explained the sleds to her. Each of the sturdy, wooden vehicles was large enough for a driver and two passengers. They were simple in design, flat with a low railing on each side, and tie-down rings in the floor. There was no seating, but they could sit on their packs once everything was loaded.
Pariah went up to Atenas as he was down on one knee, harnessing the last of the six dogs on this team. She said hesitantly, "Look, if you don't mind my asking, how dependable is Trovus? We're about to travel out into the wilderness with him, and I just don't know what to expect from him." This was the reason she'd come out to help.
She waited, afraid he'd be offended. Atenas sighed out a cloud of frosty breath as he climbed to his feet. "I know that Trovus doesn't make the best first impression nowadays, but he used to be a great adventurer."
"What happened?"
He frowned at her. Ignoring the question, he continued, "He's been good for Caer-Konig, both before he was speaker and since. He's stood up against Caer-Dineval and Easthaven in our fishing disputes, and stood more than once in defense of this town. He's older now. Moves a little slower. Got a few aches and pains. And...well...the other thing, but he's still a hero around here. We all do what we can to keep him safe." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And we expect you to do the same."
"All right, fair enough," she said. "I don't know if you heard about the fight at the ruined caer last night, but he held his own."
"He did?" Atenas asked, seeming genuinely surprised. Emphatically he said, "Good for him."
Eberic and Dejen joined them and, by the time the dogs were fully harnessed and the packs were secured, Trovus had returned with Zariel and Lulu. The dragonborn's supplies consisted of a backpack loaded mostly with wine bottles, and a keg of ale. Atenas gave the cargo a slight frown but helped to secure it anyhow.
The door to the outfitter's shop opened and a muscular dwarf with a black buzz cut and a pronounced jaw came out. He spotted Atenas and said, "Looks like the yetis buggered off. I followed their tracks for a bit and-"
Atenas was making vigorous shushing motions with his hands and jerking his head towards the speaker. As the dwarf realized Trovus was in the corral he let himself trail off. He cleared his throat and said loudly, "Well, I'll just get back to that inventory, shall I?"
He turned towards the door but the confused speaker said, "Wait a moment. What yetis?"
"Oh, nothing you need to worry about, speaker." He hurried towards the door back to the shop.
The dragonborn was unsteady on his feet, but he was quick. He darted over and clamped a clawed hand down on the dwarf's shoulder. "What yetis?" he demanded.
The dwarf looked helplessly at Atenas. The human man stepped forward with a sigh. "It's no big deal. A couple of yetis blundered towards town last night. We chased them off with fire arrows and bottle bombs."
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"We didn't want to bother you," Atenas assured him with a superficial smile. "It was nothing. Not worth your time. We only call you for the big fights."
The dragonborn and the human held each other's gaze for a long time. Finally, Trovus's eyes dropped and his shoulders slumped. "We should get going," he mumbled as he boarded the sled to grab a bottle out of his pack. He tore out the cork with a claw and upended the bottle, gulping down the wine. The group exchanged uncomfortable glances and then they all boarded the sleds, with Bjarnson and Eberic holding the reins of each team. Bjarnson led the way out of the corral as Atenas held the gate open, and they rode silently into the darkness towards the tracks that led away from The Northern Light.
Notes:
With all the research I've done for this story, this chapter is when I finally looked up dog sleds, and I realized I've been visualizing them all wrong. What I've been thinking of should probably be called a sleigh: a wagon on runners with the driver up front, and passengers and cargo in the back. They are usually pulled by horses.
Dog sleds have the driver standing in the back, and the passengers and cargo are in the front.
I guess Icewind Dale sleds are more like sleighs because I don't feel like going back and rewriting every encounter they've had with them.
"Bottle bomb" is a generic name for a Molotov cocktail.
Chapter 37: The Shadows of Kelvin's Cairn
Summary:
The party pilots two dogsleds through the tundra, headed towards Kelvin's Cairn in the hopes of finding the duergar who have been stealing from Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
Although it was still dark, the group was able to find the duergar tracks leading away from The Northern Light into the wilderness. They followed them, one sled on each side of the trail, for about a quarter of a mile until they met another set of tracks. Bjarnson and Eberic both dismounted to examine these and declared it was a sled pulled by something two-legged with large feet; their best guess was an ogre.
The expedition followed these tracks, which continued in a pretty straight line towards where Kelvin's Cairn loomed palely on the horizon. Although the sled dogs were walking, the party was still moving more than twice the speed they would have with snowshoes.
The sleds were narrow enough that the three occupants were in a line with the driver in front. Pariah was behind Bjarnson, and Dejen was behind her. Dejen had sat on his pack, wrapped his furs around him and hadn't moved much since. The driver had to stand, and Pariah spent a lot of her time standing as well. She watched how he controlled the dogs, especially in comparison to how Eberic did. He seemed to have a more natural rapport with his team than Eberic, and almost never had to guide them with the reins. The dwarf didn't exactly struggle with his dogs, but he didn't get the kind of intuitive response that Bjarnson did.
Zariel was in the middle on the other sled and Trovus was in the back by his precious keg. He was quiet for about the first hour, according to Dejen's time piece, but then he seemed to cheer up. He regaled them with more tales of his adventuring days. Regardless of what he might be now, if half of his stories were true, then he had been quite the hero in his day.
They were an hour and a half away from Caer-Konig when the wind started to pick up and the tracks started to fade. However, the sled they were following had made a beeline for the northeastern slope of the mountain so they continued in that direction.
Eberic edged his sled a little closer so he could be heard. "There's an old dwarven outpost at the base of the mountain. I think the duergar might have holed up there." He looked behind him at the dark horizon. "We might want to pick up the pace to get there before sunrise so we can sneak in and surprise them."
"Sneak?" Trovus roared. "Stealth be damned. I say we charge in, weapons bare, and send these little buggers screaming back to the Underdark."
Pariah said, "How secure is this outpost? Is there some back way we can get in?"
"I've never actually been there," Eberic admitted. "But it is a military outpost so it's not like there's going to be an open window. I know of a place we can leave the sleds and then I can scout the area and get a better sense of it."
"I'll go with you," Pariah said. "And Lulu because she can keep in touch with the others through Zariel."
The dwarf scowled but reluctantly nodded.
Eberic turned off from their path, taking a wide curve that would take them past the mountain and the outpost, and then they would circle back to park the sleds. As they moved around Kelvin's Cairn a half mile to their left, Eberic pointed to a valley that led into the mountain and said the outpost was in there.
The mountain itself wasn't what Pariah had expected. It wasn't a solid mass of earth and stone. Instead it looked like some titan had dumped a thousand-foot high pile of snow-covered boulders on the tundra. She found herself half-expecting it to collapse as she watched it, but Bjarnson assured her that the mountain had been there for thousands of years.
After they circled back, Eberic led them to the base of a trio of massive boulders near the valley where the outpost was located. They left most of their supplies on the sleds; there wouldn't be much need for bedrolls and cooking tools inside. They put on their snowshoes and Bjarnson unharnessed the dogs. He said they knew to stay near the sled and, if the party didn't return, they could find their way back to town.
And with that grim thought, Eberic started walking towards the valley with Pariah and Lulu close behind.
Eberic stopped when he reached the edge of the valley that cut into the mountainside, and he carefully peered around the edge. He studied the area for a long time and then pulled back and crouched down facing Pariah. He looked towards the eastern sky with a frown; there was a hint of a glow above the Spine of the World mountains.
He sketched a half oval in the snow. "The valley's about like this. The main doors are here," he indicated the middle of the arc. "Looks like a bunker here." He drew a circle on one side of the oval. "There's a stream here," he drew a line along the middle, "that runs out of the mountain. I think there's a blind spot behind the bunker but it's hard to tell from here."
He looked at the horizon again. "Sun'll be up soon. If we go now, and I mean now, we'll have some darkness for cover. If we wait, it's going to be a little lighter in there."
Pariah said, "But they are like dwarves; they can see in the dark, right?"
"Right," he confirmed. "But they'll still spot us more easily in the light than in the dark. On the other hand, we have humans. We don't want them stumbling along if they can't see."
Lulu said, "I could turn invisible and scout out inside. There have to be arrow slits or something, right? Or follow the stream inside."
Eberic studied her thoughtfully. "How good's your night vision?" he asked.
"Not very good," she admitted. "But I'll be fine once I get inside."
"No," he shook his head. "It'll be worse inside. There won't be much light at all, just a trickle. Less light than this." He waved at the night sky.
Pariah suggested, "She could check the stream, though. I love sneaking in back doors."
Eberic made an indecisive gesture. "I suppose it's worth a check." He asked Lulu, "Are you talking to Zariel?"
Lulu said, "Yes. She and Trovus think we should go now. Dejen wants to wait for more light."
Pariah said, "I think going now is best."
The dwarf nodded, "I agree. Lulu, tell the others to come up to us. Then let me show you where you can scout." He peered around the corner again. "Stay against this wall here. Even if you're invisible, it never hurts to stay out of sight. Don't get too close to them."
"Got it," she said as she faded from view. Pariah heard the slight sound of her wings as she flew off.
The other three came to join them. Zariel said, "Lulu says the bunker just looks out on the valley; you are right, they are blind behind. However there are barred windows that look out from the fort. They are high up so we should be able to move slowly past them. She sees a female duergar inside there and..."
She paused and cocked her head. "The guard inside the barred window suddenly turned towards her. Lulu thinks she might have been heard. The guard is calling out something Lulu doesn't understand."
Pariah could hear a voice but couldn't make out the words. Eberic, listening intently, said, "She's calling out to the bunker, I think, asking if the guard there has seen anything. She doesn't sound too alarmed." To Zariel he said, "Tell her to come back."
Zariel paused and then said, "She is going to check out the stream."
Eberic mumbled a Dethek curse. "If she gets us caught that will be no help."
"She assures me she will be careful."
Eberic carefully looked out towards the valley while they all waited nervously.
After what seemed like a very long time, Zariel told them, "Lulu says the stream is frozen and it does lead inside, but there is a metal grate over it. She sees the main door and...Lulu, no!" Zariel sighed. "She's going in one of the arrow slits by the entrance."
Eberic again cursed in Dethek.
Once more they waited tensely until Zariel said in relief, "She is coming back. She says the bar on the main door is not in place; it looks like we can just pull it open. However, there is a pit just inside with a drawbridge. She doesn't see any guard at the door but it's very dark inside. She smells a corpse and wonders if there might be undead, but couldn't see anything in the darkness."
Pariah said, "But she can sense undead, right?"
"Yes, but only when they are fairly close. It's a very large room and the creature might be deeper in the room than she can sense. Or of course it might just be a dead body."
"Is the drawbridge down?" Eberic asked.
"Yes."
Pariah asked, "Any idea how many soldiers this outpost could hold?"
Eberic shook his head. "At a guess, no more than eight or ten normally, but who knows how many the duergar have stuffed into this place."
"Can't be many," Trovus said, more loudly than he should have. The others quickly shushed him and he whispered. "We saw footprints of ones and twos in town."
"Plus someone undead and at least one ogre," Pariah reminded them.
Zariel said to Trovus, "Speaker, what is our plan here. Shall I assume you want to arrest these people?"
He snorted derisively. "I don't have a jail to keep 'em. We're here to get the town's stuff back, and to convince the duergar to leave and not come back. If they want to give back what they've stolen and promise to leave, fine with me. But I can't see them doing that."
"I see," she said. "I suppose we should expect strong resistance then."
Pariah pulled the chardalyn disk out of her belt pouch. She directed the magical energy through it and felt the cold spread across her armor. It was a familiar feeling that was both comforting and troubling. As Lulu rejoined them and came out of her invisibility, Pariah said, "Me, Eberic and Lulu go first. The rest follow a little bit behind. Let's try to get inside before they know we're here and pull up that drawbridge."
Eberic said, "We can leave our snowshoes here. The snow doesn't look too deep."
After they'd removed their snowshoes, Eberic took the lead. Pariah followed closely with Lulu on her shoulder holding onto her horn. Pariah had her shield ready but her sword was still sheathed to leave a hand free for spells. They hugged the rock wall to their right. A snow covered hump was too regular to be a boulder, so she understood why Eberic had called that a bunker. She could see arrow slits looking out on the stream valley which dropped about forty feet below to their left, but the view from the bunker was blocked in the back. The gap between the bunker and the wall was only a few feet wide but even someone was broad as Trovus should be able to get through without trouble.
She didn't see a door in the bunker so she wondered how anyone got inside. She had hoped it would be a way in, but apparently not.
She also saw the barred windows in the canyon wall that Lulu had talked about. They were about ten feet off the ground and looked out over the valley, leaving a blind spot right underneath them. From this angle she couldn't see inside, but that also meant anyone inside couldn't see her. They carefully crept underneath it and she heard someone in the overlook mumbling and stamping their feet against the cold.
The entrance was a pair of massive stone doors a good ten feet high. She put a hand on Eberic's shoulder to stop him. She leaned forward and whispered, "I think whoever's up there will spot us at the main door."
He didn't reply other than to nod and point to the bunker. She turned and realized the arrows slits on that side also looked out on the door. Eberic gestured in a circle to indicate all of them, pointed to the door, and then made a punching motion.
She nodded. "No stealth here," she agreed. "Charge in, get across the drawbridge before they can raise it. Zariel first?"
He nodded, and then turned to wave the others forward. As they moved carefully along the base of the wall, Pariah looked back at the main doors. They'd have only seconds so she wanted to plan out their movements in her head. Dwarven construction meant they'd open smoothly, but that was still a lot of weight to move with her skinny arms.
She winced as she heard boots slip on the slick ground and a heavy figure crash into the stone wall of the valley. She turned, prepared to glare at Trovus for his clumsiness, but she was surprised to see it was actually Zariel who was struggling to recover her balance.
Pariah and Eberic exchanged a horrified look as a woman's voice from above them yelled out. Pariah couldn't understand the words, but she understood the tone of alarm. She heard heard boots on stone running away from the overlook.
Pariah dashed towards the main doors. She grabbed the handle of the nearest one and tugged, but succeeded only in slipping on the icy ground. She didn't lose her balance, but the door barely moved.
Eberic ran past her to the other door. He set his feet, hauled on the handle with a grunt, and the massive stone entry opened slowly. From inside the outpost came a bellow far too deep to be a duergar; the ogre must be near. She turned to see the others charging towards them while the duergar in the bunker fired a crossbow at them.
Zariel and a wolf ran past her and through the door as soon as it was open far enough for them to fit. Pariah had stopped being surprised by animals that suddenly joined the combat; she assumed that was Bjarnson.
She was close on Eberic's heel as he entered the outpost. The glow of Zariel's sword illuminated the area in dim blue-white light, though Pariah also saw lanterns burning a low flame, barely illuminating the place as was common for dwarven and duergar settlements. The smell of rotting flesh hit her senses as she quickly scanned the room. The space was about eighty feet wide, half that across, and she spotted openings left, right and ahead. Three things caught her attention.
The first was a line of three cages in the far right corner next to a dog sled stood up on its end. In the nearest of the three cages, the rotting corpse of an ogre roared at them and rattled the locked door of its cage, doing its best to tear the iron gate open. In the next cage over, a pair of panicked goats bleated and tried to flee the ogre through the narrow space between the bars.
The second things she noticed was the bald, ash-skinned duergar woman hauling on a chain next to the drawbridge. That in turn led to the third thing: the wooden drawbridge right in front of her that was slowly rising from the deep pit it spanned. The bridge was already up farther than her knees and she clumsily leapt up onto it. She fired a beam of cold that splashed against the armor of the duergar, who kept industriously hauling on the drawbridge chain even as Zariel and the Bjarnson wolf bore down on her.
"Pariah, wait," came Lulu's voice. Pariah hesitated as Eberic rushed past her across the bridge. The asteri faded into existence in front of her, touching her shield to make it glow and brightly illuminate the room. Pariah nodded thanks and continued to run down the steep slope of the drawbridge as Lulu turned invisible again.
Pariah whirled in surprise as Trovus crashed to the ground behind her; the duergar had finished raising the drawbridge and the dragonborn apparently hadn't made it fully across. Dejen yelled, "Someone lower the bridge; I'm still outside!"
The duergar woman deftly blocked or dodged Zariel's sword and Bjarnson's snapping teeth, and quickly stepped back towards the undead ogre's cage. She threw the bolt and the door flew open. The ogre zombie bellowed as he squeezed himself through the small opening. The duergar continued backing towards the opening at the far side of the entry room.
The wolf took off after her, biting at her legs and knocking her down. Trovus rolled to his feet and lumbered after her, striking down with powerful two handed blows of his battle axe. The duergar turned invisible, but it was too late. Trovus chopped where she had been and she cried out, fading back into existence as she died.
Meanwhile, Zariel had run to face down the undead ogre that loomed over her. She faced it fearlessly, crying out something in Enochian as she struck with her sword. A flash of radiant energy burned the ogre's flesh and the creature bellowed in pain. It smashed down with massive fists. Zariel took the blow on her shield, but the force of it knocked her back, her boots skidding loudly across the stone floor. Eberic closed with the ogre, trying to draw its attention away, but the undead creature ignored him.
Pariah stopped only long enough to slap the release lever next to the drawbridge chain before rushing forward. She heard the drawbridge slam down behind her. Fearing for Zariel's safety, Pariah pulled one of the crystals from the necklace around her neck. She crushed it in her hand, surprised by how fragile it was. She felt the icy energy bubbling in her fist, and she quickly turned her palm towards the creature. A blizzard spewed forth from her hand, coating the ogre zombie in frost. It stopped to snarl at her and, though it turned its attention back to Zariel, that hesitation let Zariel regain her balance and strike another blow. Again her sword flashed, and again the holy energy caused the undead flesh to sizzle and smoke.
The ogre continued to smash at Zariel and, even though she managed to catch every blow on her shield, the strength behind the blows were doing their damage. She was clearly exhausted and having trouble keeping her shield up. Pariah finally drew her sword and closed with the monster. She instinctively tried to funnel magical energy into her weapon, and was surprised to see a layer of frost form on the blade.
She and Eberic harassed the zombie, trying to draw its attention away, but it grimly continued attacking Zariel. Its flesh was literally falling away as Pariah cut pieces off of it, the meat freezing at the touch of her saber, but it refused to go down. Finally, Zariel managed to land another blow. A third burst of radiant energy seared across the creature, and it fell to its knees and pitched forward, Zariel scrambling to get out of the way of its massive body.
Lulu appeared, touching Zariel and saying a prayer of healing, before shouting, "Trovus is in trouble!" She flew off towards where the duergar woman's body lay on the ground, and past that into the darkness. Pariah didn't see Trovus but she could hear weapons and yelling, and the Bjarnson wolf howled at them and jerked his head in the same direction Lulu had gone.
"Hang back," Pariah said to the exhausted Zariel as she started after Lulu. "We've got this."
Zariel didn't reply, but sheathed her sword and drew one of the javelins from the quiver on her back. The two of them and Eberic ran into the dark opening across from the main entrance. It led into the corner of another room. Along one wall were two openings into yet another space, but the openings were blocked by spikes, like a sideways portcullis. Bjarnson was at one of the walls of spikes, growling past it, and Lulu was trying to squeeze through the narrow space between the bars.
Beyond the barrier was another room about the same size, dimly lit by blue light spilling out of a doorway to Pariah's left. The blue light shifted into green and Pariah guessed they had found The Northern Light's lantern. The colored light revealed Trovus engaged in a duel with a massive duergar with a bushy white beard that went to his waist. Pariah had seen gray dwarves grow large, especially ones in trades like construction or dock work. They could become twice their normal size and were capable of great feats of strength for a short time. She had seen one in a fight only once, a street brawl that had been over very quickly, a half-dozen attackers lying injured on the ground around the massive gray dwarf.
Trovus was big and broad, like most dragonborn, but the enlarged dwarf was nearly as big as the ogre had been. The two of them fought with vicious blows and lots of bellowing and puffing of chests. Both participants were hurt and Pariah wasn't sure who was winning. Pariah spotted a lever on the far wall in the other room. She shouted, "Trovus, pull the lever!" as she sheathed her sword to fire a beam of cold through the wall of spikes, hitting the duergar.
The speaker ignored her, intent on his battle, but Lulu had managed to squeeze through the bars by this time. She flew over to grab the lever. She planted both feet and hauled upwards on it with all the strength of her tiny body. Either the mechanism was well oiled, or she was stronger than she looked, because she managed to pull it up and the spikes retracted.
They rushed in but, before they could reach him, Trovus landed the killing blow. The duergar fell backwards and slid down the wall behind him. He sneered at them and mumbled something Pariah didn't understand before he slumped to the side, dead.
Pariah quickly turned to survey the room. An open door led to a small bedroom but she could see no other entrances. She listened but didn’t hear anything other than all of them breathing hard. She asked Eberic, "What did he say?"
The dwarf frowned down at the body. "Duergan is a different dialect than Dethek so I'm not sure of the exact translation, but it was something about the power in the ice, his father's glory, and the doom of Ten-Towns."
Notes:
The duergar base is not actually described as an old dwarven outpost, but they are very near Dwarven Valley. I can't imagine the duergar could have constructed something like this without dwarven patrols noticing them. An abandoned and mostly forgotten installation makes more sense.
The comment about there being a few lights in the fortress has to do with the new homebrew lighting level I mentioned a while back. Night time is the standard "darkness" as described in the PHB, but inside a cave is "darkest". Darkvision doesn't help you see in darkest conditions, so the duergar would need a tiny bit of light to reach standard darkness. It would still be heavily obscured to a human (or an asteri) but dim light to someone with darkvision.
I added the grate to the stream because it's not really a good entrance unless you can fly. It leads to a well with icy walls that's impossible to climb without noisily hammering pitons that none of them have.
Pariah putting cold into her sword is the Planar Warrior ability from the Horizon Walker Ranger. It's actually force damage, and I run it like that, but I write it as intense cold that penetrates normal cold resistance.
The Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion led me to believe that this would be pretty challenging for a party of this level but, other than Zariel getting beaten nearly to zero, it wasn't that hard. I did the CR calculations and the ogre zombie plus two duergar is a Medium combat for them. I wish I'd done that math and made the final duergar an actual boss rather than a generic duergar, but it wasn't worth running the battle again.
Chapter 38: Rot and Stone
Summary:
The group continues to explore the duergar hideout.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
The wolf that was Bjarnson turned towards the twin entryway that led back to the rest of the outpost. He lowered his head and growled, his hackles rising. Pariah turned, her sword and shield ready, but saw nothing. "More duergar?" she said.
Bjarnson nodded, pointedly sniffing the air.
"I don't see anything," she said, continuing to scan to the edge of the light emanating from her shield and Zariel's sword.
Eberic said, "The duergar can turn invisible."
Walls of spikes jumped out across the width of the double entry, blocking access. She turned to see Dejen with his hand on the trap lever. "That should keep us safe for the moment," he said.
"Unless they are in here already," she suggested.
They carefully moved through the room, weapons ready, but nobody was here. Trovus slurred, "Well, then, let's go find these lawbreakers! Chase them back to the Underdark."
"One moment, speaker," Zariel said. "Here is the lamp we seek, and we saw the goats outside. You also mentioned some pearls, I believe. If we have found the stolen items, then perhaps we should return to Caer-Konig. I believe we have made our point here."
He growled towards the wall of spikes, and said, "We should be sure to chase them off, though. Who knows how many more there are?"
Pariah said, "Why don't you and Bjarnson stand guard out here. Dejen, Eberic and I will check out this other room. Zariel, you stay here, too. You've already taking quite a beating."
Zariel had been rubbing her left shoulder and wincing, but she abruptly straightened up and said, "I assure you I am still fighting fit."
"Well, stay here anyhow," Pariah said gently. "Lulu, you too."
Other than the spike-trapped entries, a single door led out of this bare room into a chamber that was only a bit less bleak. It was a combination bedroom and office, with a bed and desk made of stone, and a burning stove in the corner to warm the space. There was a bin of coal next to it. The bed was covered by several roughly tanned pelts. The most obvious object on the desk was a lamp covered by a burlap sack that was emitting a changing rainbow of colored light. She lifted the bag and, as expected, found the lantern from The Northern Light.
On top of the desk were also six rough shards of clear chardalyn and a crumpled up piece of paper. She picked up the letter, and she smoothed out the paper to find a message written in Dethek. Her ability to read a language she didn't know again produced a mix of excitement and fear.
The message was short. She said to the others, "This is a letter to someone named Nildar, who I'm guessing is the dead guy in the next room, from someone named Durth. It says, 'You will find me on the frozen ferry in Easthaven. Each expedition will deliver chardalyn crystals to this base and I will deliver them to Father. Drive your forces hard! We must finish our task before the upworlders discover us.'"
From the next room, Zariel said, "We should deliver this news to Captain Arlaggath. She would want to know if a large force of duergar are hiding in her town."
Pariah stowed the letter and looked over the crystals again. "There are shards of chardalyn here. If the duergar are collecting that, do we want to take it with us?"
Eberic, who was searching the furs on the bed, said, "We should leave it. Nothing good comes from black ice."
"But it's not black," she said as she looked over the desk. "Just clear." The shards would be hard to carry so she left them for the moment. The desk had some shelves below the main surface but they were all empty. She looked over at Eberic. "Find anything?"
He held up a bag and shook it. "A few coins, but no pearls."
"Well, we should check the rest of this place anyhow," Pariah said as she picked up the lantern. "I suppose we've given them time to dig in now that they know we are here." Maybe Trovus had been right; they should have charged out and cleared the place first.
The aforementioned dragonborn was sitting on the floor in the next room, drinking from a bottle of wine. Pariah sighed slightly but this was hardly the time for a temperance lecture. She looked over the others to see who had a free hand, and handed the color-changing lantern to Eberic.
He scowled at it. "There's no adjustment knob." His scowl deepened. "Or oil tank. I suppose this means there's no way to turn it off." He put it back on the desk. "Leave it here and come back for it."
Watching the surly dwarf's face lit up by a shifting rainbow of colors brought a grin to Pariah's face that she tried to hide. She said, "Let's be careful. They may have an ambush ready." Remembering the fight with Sephek, she said, "Dejen, can you do that sparkly thing to find invisible creatures?"
"Well, yes," he said hesitantly. "But only once or twice. I can't create a permanent field of revelation."
"Pity," she said as she moved to the lever. "But Bjarnson, you can smell them, right?"
The wolf nodded.
"Let us know if you smell or hear them and then maybe Dejen can do his thing. Either way, let's be careful. Everyone ready?"
Zariel said, "One moment. We should cover both entrances, and then we should spread out as we move so they cannot sneak past us."
"That's a good idea," Pariah admitted. Half the group arranged themselves in front of each wall of spikes and, when they were ready, Pariah pulled the lever. As the spikes retracted, she quickly moved up to join the others.
They walked into the next room, forming a single line abreast to sweep the area before moving into the main entry. This was going to be a problem: this room was quite large.
Pariah suggested, "Let's raise the drawbridge. That way they can't get out without alerting us."
Zariel cautiously moved to the chain as the others watched and listened, and Bjarnson sniffed the air. She hauled on the chain and the drawbridge slowly came up, leaving a thirty foot deep pit in front of the open main entrance door.
Dejen pointed to their left. "I imagine that leads to the bunker; we know there is at least one there."
Bjarnson sniffed the air and then faced to their right, growling at the hallway. It went a short distance and ended at a closed door.
"You smell duergar?" Pariah said.
The wolf shook his head and then looked at Lulu and whined at her.
"What?" the asteri asked. "Oh, right!" She stared at the wolf intently and then said, "He smells something through the door, but not duergar. It's more like rotting plants."
Pariah asked, "Does he know what that might mean? Or does anyone else?"
There was a general echo of nos.
"I wish I knew of a way to jam that door shut," Pariah mumbled, mostly to herself. "We're going to have to pick one direction, and we know someone is that way," she nodded to the left passage that probably led to the bunker. "Lulu, maybe you should stay here, invisible, and warn us if anything comes through."
"All right," she said. "But you won't be able to talk to Bjarnson if I do."
Pariah looked down at the wolf. "You can talk to animals as a human, but not humans as an animal?" she asked drily.
The wolf made a huffing sound that she suspected was a laugh. However the idea of talking to animals gave her a thought. She asked him, "Do you think you could ask the goats who else is here?"
The wolf made a sort of bark. Lulu translated, "Not while he's a wolf, and he'd rather not change back just yet."
Pariah remembered how she had been able to sense the energy from the dogs in Caer-Dineval. She frowned, not sure if she was about to embarrass herself, but said, "Hold on. I want to try something. Cover that hallway."
She sheathed her saber and sat in front of the goat cage, next to the massive, rotting corpse of the ogre. She opened her senses and felt the animals' nervousness, though it was mild, the natural alertness of prey. She calmed herself and tried to send soothing, friendly energy towards them, though she was distracted by the stench of the undead ogre a few feet away. They didn't seem to calm down but she realized they kept looking past her nervously. She turned to see Bjarnson there.
He seemed to understand what was going on. He lowered himself onto his belly and crawled forward, whining, his chin on the ground. Pariah reached out to pat him, trying to show he was a friend, not a predator. The goats seemed confused, but they grew calmer.
How could she ask them questions? She found herself wishing she was alone with them, or that Bjarnson was in human form so he could coach her. She could sense the eyes of the others on her and started to feel foolish, but she suppressed that emotion. Bjarnson had done it. She was pretty sure she had done it at Caer-Dineval. She just had to find that connection again. Maybe they could tell her how many duergar there were.
As the image of the duergar appeared in her head, the goats suddenly grew tense. She felt fear, felt hands grabbing her. Pulled through the snow, struggling. Put into a sled. A massive shape lumbering along pulling the sled through the darkness. Smaller shapes, though still large compared to goats, stood next to her, jerking the rope around her neck if she made noise.
She sent out calming thoughts again and the images faded.
She was pleased she'd made some kind of breakthrough, but she already knew the duergar had taken them. She drummed her fingers on her knee as she tried to think how to ask them more.
She leaned out and pointed past the body of the ogre towards the dead duergar. It took the goats a moment to look past the mountain of rotting flesh and see what she was indicating. They looked back at her expectantly. She shrugged and looked around as though searching for something, but they seemed confused.
Of course they were confused, she thought to herself. They don't know what a shrug is.
She thought about holding up fingers, but hoofed animals would probably have trouble relating. She pointed to herself and tapped the ground. She then pointed to herself and Bjarnson and tapped twice. She pointed to herself, Bjarnson and Dejen, who was nearby watching with a baffled look, and then tapped three times. Finally, she pointed to the dead duergar and tried to send a questioning energy to them.
The goats looked at the duergar and then her. Then the duergar and then her. She was about to try something else when one of the goats tapped a hoof on the ground. It tapped three times and then, after a pause, hesitantly tapped again. She saw a brief image of humanoid shapes in the room they were in now, but the shapes were similar as they moved about. She gathered that, to a goat, duergar all look alike.
She struggled to get more out of them, and occasionally got flashes of images but nothing more than she knew already. It didn't seem like they'd been anywhere in the base other than in the cage next to the ogre zombie. Plus they were cold, which wasn't surprising because the room wasn't heated. Disappointed, she stood up.
"The goats say there are three or four duergar here, but they all look alike. They seem to be saying they've seen three or four duergar together, but there might be more."
Lulu told her, "Bjarnson says he's very proud of you."
Pariah gave the wolf a slightly sheepish chuckle and nodded her gratitude. "So we killed two, and there is the one from the bunker, and maybe one more, or maybe more than that. I guess that was a waste of time."
Zariel said, "Not at all. We know there is not an army here, only a small scouting party. We should still be cautious, but I am pleased that there is not likely to be any serious combat ahead." She looked down the dark hall pensively. "In fact, perhaps we should call out for their surrender. If nothing else, that letter you found implies there is a leader who is housed elsewhere. I'd like to ask about that."
"A leader building a weapon, from what the soothsayer said," Pariah added. "I guess that's why they are collecting chardalyn. I wouldn't mind knowing what that weapon was. Eberic, you said they weren't speaking Dethek, but something similar?"
"Yes," he admitted. "They'd probably understand me."
Zariel said, "Then let us continue to explore, but you can shout out a message asking them to surrender."
"They won't," he grumped. "But fine."
Lulu said, "Bjarnson thinks we should go that way." She pointed towards the door with the rotting plant smell. "It's a wrong smell and he thinks we should investigate."
Eberic pointed in the other direction, "We know there is at least one this way." He glared into the darkness. "Probably listening to us right now."
Zariel looked towards the closed door. "They had a zombie and I'm concerned there might be some other undead creature there."
Pariah observed, "In the time it took us to search the room, the one from the bunker could have gone anywhere. For all we know, he left the place entirely. I agree with investigating the weird smell." She paused. "Though I do have one idea. Dejen, come here."
The dark skinned man came over to her and she leaned over to whisper her idea in his ear. He looked towards the closed door as he drew his crossbow and quill. Pariah whispered, "Three...two...one..."
The both whirled towards the dark corridor behind them. She fired a beam of ice down the right side of the tunnel, while he quickly wrote a rune over his crossbow and sent a streak of fire down the left. Both attacks splattered against the wall where the hall turned to the right. They froze and she listened for any kind of sound.
After a moment she said, "Well, that's not proof, but I don't think anyone's standing there right this moment." She said to Dejen, "Nice misdirection looking at the door." She had been worried that he'd pointedly look down the hall, alerting anyone who might be watching.
They moved towards the door. Zariel and Trovus led the way, Pariah and Eberic close behind, with Dejen and Bjarnson trailing, both watching behind the group. Lulu turned herself invisible. As they reached the door, Zariel said over her shoulder to Eberic, "Be sure to call for their surrender," before opening the door towards them.
A strong smell of compost came out of the room. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was a strange thing to smell in a dwarven base. Pariah had guessed either a garbage dump or a greenhouse, but quickly saw she was wrong. The light from Zariel's sword and Pariah's shield showed a bare room with no furnishings other than a couple of dim lamps on the walls. Pariah could see past the circle of light to the far wall, which was set with five stone doors standing ajar. Each door had a small, barred window set about four feet off the ground -- dwarf height. The sturdiness of the doors gave her the impression of a cell block.
They moved into the room cautiously. The left wall was bare; that would be the wall of the mountain. The right wall had three more doors and a stairway leading up. The room was cold and she saw no stove, so any prisoners would have a rough time.
Eberic called out in Dethek. Pariah thought she sensed movement in one of the cells but no voice called back. She said in Chondathan, "Is anyone there? We can get you out of here."
She heard definite movement from within multiple cells now. She looked up the stairs but saw no soldiers rushing down. She turned as one of the stone doors opened wider and a shape came out of the cell into the light.
It was a human man with blonde hair, his lips pulled back from yellowed teeth in something between a grin and a sneer, but his flesh had been corrupted. At first she assumed it was another zombie, but it wasn't the rot of death that afflicted him. A fuzz of purple fungus had eaten away the left side of his face and neck, and his eye sockets were grown over with mold. Mushrooms with red caps and white spots grew out of the top of his head and down his back. Thick, brown fungal shelves ran down the outside of his thighs, and more mushrooms burst from the shreds of his boots as he stumbled towards them, his slack arm dragging a war hammer along the ground.
As the group paused to make sense of the thing shambling forward, something came out of another cell. This was a dwarven man, shirtless and muscular. His skin was covered with an array of tattoos and black mold, and one arm bore green fungal branches shaped like coral polyps. The entire upper half of his head was gone, his skull now a bowl of mushrooms at least a foot high. The remnants of his shaggy black hair and beard were entwined with fungal ropes in dull, earthy colors. Despite his lack of brain or eyes, he stumbled forward, brandishing a mace.
While the rest of the group hesitated, Trovus bellowed and charged at the dwarf, swinging his battleaxe wildly. Although his attack was reckless, the mushroom infested dwarf was slow to respond. The axe blade bit deep over and over, and the twisted dwarf collapsed as the human slowly turned and shuffled in his direction.
Three more shapes came into the light: a dwarven woman with broken glasses who held a crossbow like a club, a red-headed man wearing a rotting fur cape and wielding a spear, and a human woman dressed in a butcher's apron, her eye sockets empty and crusted with dried blood. All of them were covered in fungal growths, and all of them converged on the dragonborn.
The group finally broke themselves out of their sickened daze and moved forward. Pariah closed with the blond man on Trovus's right, pulling the cold into her blade like she had in the entry hall, but she was still rattled by the horrors she was seeing and her clumsy blows slipped off the leather armor he wore. A bolt of fire came from behind her, searing across the man's face, though he didn't even flinch as it left a scar in his flesh.
Zariel and Eberic went around Trovus's left to engage the red headed man as he raised his spear towards the speaker. Zariel went in first, slashing at him and drawing his attention, while the dwarf went around and stabbed at him with his ice dagger. Whether it was the magic of the dagger or simply the efficiency of their attacks, a second mushroom zombie collapsed.
A wolf's howl rang through the chamber, and Lulu yelled, "Duergar coming down the steps!"
The stairs were to Pariah's right. Keeping her shield up, even though the blond man was focused on Trovus rather than her, she glanced over in that direction. The light didn't reach that far but she could see into the darkness beyond and nothing stirred there. And then suddenly, two duergar men came out of the shadows into the light, their forms growing taller as they charged towards the group, war picks raised.
The three mushroom zombies were swarming Trovus, striking and clawing at him mindlessly. He shook them off, opened his mouth and released a primal bellow that shook Pariah to her core. This was the raw scream of a predator, and it triggered some basic prey instinct to flee. She was able to hold her ground, but then it hadn't been directed at her.
The moldy creatures didn't react, just like they hadn't reacted to anything else, but the enlarged duergar stopped their charge and stepped back, the terror written in their faces. Pariah debated changing targets, but didn't want to leave Trovus to be overwhelmed by the mushroom zombies. She pressed her attack on the smiling blonde man, and the ice cold of her blade was able to cut through and bring him down.
As she moved around behind the two remaining zombies, Zariel and Eberic ran to engage the duergar. From this angle, Pariah could see Dejen standing in the doorway they had come through. He pointed his quill at the dwarven woman. Pariah didn't see any obvious spell, but the mold-covered woman seemed to hesitate in confusion. Pariah used the opportunity to strike, scoring a deep wound and cutting her down.
Bjarnson came around behind Pariah to leap at the woman in the butcher's apron, knocking her to the ground and tearing at her moldy flesh. Trovus roared as he chopped down at the prone enemy, and the last of the fungus-infected creatures lay dead.
Zariel yelled, "There is a third atop the stairs."
Pariah turned to see Zariel and Eberic engaged with the two oversized duergar, who were backed against the stairs fighting defensively, fear in their eyes. She also saw a shape in the shadows at the top of the stairs as a third duergar, this one normal sized, ducked out to fire a crossbow bolt that Zariel took on her shield, and then he pulled back behind cover.
Pariah sheathed her sword as she closed with the duergar, pulling a crystal off her necklace. She crushed the gem and felt the cold energy surging in her fist. She positioned herself to avoid hitting Zariel and Eberic and then let the storm loose from her palm across the two duergar.
"Watch out!" Lulu yelled from up above. "You almost hit me."
"Sorry," Pariah yelled back. She saw nothing so assumed Lulu was still invisible.
She pressed the attack. Trovus and Bjarnson charged up to join them, supported by fire bolts from Dejen. They made short work of the two duergar, who returned to their regular size once they died. Then Bjarnson charged up the stairs and Pariah heard a man yell, a body fall, and a wolf growl. A voice was yelling something unintelligible.
She ran up the stairs to see a duergar on his back, his crossbow fallen halfway across the room. The wolf Bjarnson was on top of him, his teeth bared and growling. There was no fear in the duergar's voice as he said something Pariah didn't understand over and over, though his hands were in a defensive position.
"He's surrendering," Eberic said. "I say we just kill him and get it over with."
"No!" Zariel said firmly. "We do not kill surrendering enemies. Let us interrogate him."
Eberic stood over the man, brandishing his ice dagger. "Gladly," he sneered down at the warrior.
Notes:
Not wanting to repeat my error in the last combat, this time I did the math and decided the spore servants were WAY too easy. I pumped them from CR 1/8 to CR 1/4, and added the duergar as an ambush.
I gave Trovus the dragonborn racial feat Dragon Fear, which was his roar. The spore servants were immune, but the duergar both failed and that meant they attacked at disadvantage so didn't shred Zariel, though she did again get down to 2 HP. Trovus did insanely well considering he was attacking at disadvantage for being drunk. He still hit nearly every time.
Chapter 39: Secrets of the Gray Dwarves
Summary:
With another battle behind them, the party interrogates their duergar prisoner.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
Unfortunately, the duergar didn't say much.
He was currently sitting in a chair in the room at the top of the stairs where he had been captured. This was a common room with a small table and four chairs, a stove and a bin of coal, a large water basin, and a stone privy with a door that didn't block the smell coming from the deep hole inside.
The duergar apparently didn't speak Chondathan, so Eberic handled the interrogation. He postured and brandished his blade, but stopped short of actually inflicting pain. Pariah and Zariel oversaw the questioning to ensure that Eberic didn't cross a line.
Lulu also conversed with him telepathically, doing a sort of "good constable, bad constable" thing with Eberic, but the gray dwarf was uncommunicative and spoke little.
They managed to wear him down and he admitted a few things. His name was Brojk. All of the defenders were now dead. The creatures in the cells were something called spore servants, corpses animated by fungi from the Underdark rather than by necromantic magic. The leader had been named Nildar and was the son of Xardorok, the duergar leader. There were two other sons, and Xardorok ruled from a stronghold in the mountains to the south. The duergar expeditions were collecting chardalyn for some weapon. Most of them were scouring the Spine of the World mountains but a few were searching Ten-Towns.
Remembering the soothsayer's prediction, Pariah had Eberic ask him about a forge powered by a dragon heart. He gave her a triumphant sneer but wouldn't elaborate.
He did rave on a bit about Xardorok and his weapon, leading the duergar as they marched across Icewind Dale in an unending black shroud that would subjugate the blah, blah, blah. Eberic stopped translating that nonsense pretty quickly.
Bjarnson, back in his human form, and Dejen explored the four small bedrooms that connected to the common room. Each contained little more than a tattered bedroll and a pile of clothing and other equipment. Bjarnson found a pair of healing potions. Hidden in the equipment in one room, Dejen found the bag of pearls. When he brought them out to show the others, Brojk looked surprised and angry. Pariah smirked as she guessed that whoever had occupied that bedroom had been hiding the stash from the others.
Trovus, meanwhile, sat at the table draining another bottle of wine.
Eventually, the prisoner just stopped talking. Eberic kept at him for a while, but finally made a disgusted noise. "I think he's said all he's going to say. Let's just kill him and move on."
"Wait a moment," Zariel said sternly. "We are not murderers. We have a member of law enforcement here and he should determine the prisoner's fate."
They turned to Trovus who observed the prisoner blearily. "We normally let thieves go. Maybe kick 'em out of town, but that's about all."
Eberic said, "He'll just run back to his boss and tell him what happened here. He has valuable information about duergar activities that maybe someone better than me can get out of him."
"That's true," Trovus mumbled. "But we've got nowhere to keep him in Caer-Konig. Maybe take him to Caer-Dineval. They probably got prisons in their castle."
The group exchanged worried glances. Pariah was thinking about the three duergar who had already been captured there, who had almost certainly been tortured to death by Levistus's cultists. She didn't like the idea of handing someone over to them, though she wondered if they could use him to negotiate the release of the castle personnel. "Maybe," she said slowly. "Or maybe Easthaven? They'd want to know, and there is supposedly more hiding at the ferry there."
"Yes," said Zariel with some relief, "that seems like our best option. Let us bind this gentleman tightly and be on our way back to Caer-Konig."
"Wait," Pariah said. "I want to finish searching this place. I'd like to take that sled they have, plus we might as well deny them any supplies they have stored here." And if those supplies brought in a little coin, then so be it.
Searching the place revealed an armory with two unused suits of armor, two shields and a small cache of weapons. They also found climber's kits that Bjarnson suggested they keep, and other supplies they would be able to sell back in town. While the rest of them searched, Trovus and Lulu remained by the drawbridge with the bound prisoner.
Bjarnson and Eberic went out to fetch the sleds and dog teams while the others stacked their supplies outside the entrance. Pariah also fetched the lantern and the chardalyn crystals from the leader's bedroom; she wasn't sure what to do with the latter, but saw no reason to leave them for the duergar. They hooked the new sled behind one of theirs; the current harness was for the ogre so it would need a new one before they could use it. They loaded the caged goats and the equipment they had recovered, as well as laying the prisoner out on the floor. Zariel arranged the supplies into a seat and positioned herself to glower down at the duergar, making sure he didn't try to escape. It was about an hour after noon, according to Dejen's new timepiece, before they headed out into the dim afternoon light.
The trip back was slow. The weight of the extra sled and the prisoner was a strain on the dogs, though not a dangerous one according to Bjarnson. It just meant he kept the team at a walk and it took about three hours to make it back. The sun set in that time but the gibbous moon rose, casting its own dim light across the snow ahead of them. They sky was clear and the wind low, and nothing attacked, so the trip was more pleasant than many of the ones they'd made so far. Pariah certainly preferred sled travel to foot travel.
When they arrived, they swung by the barracks long enough to allow Trovus to escort the prisoner inside where he'd be chained up for the night. Zariel and Eberic accompanied him, ostensibly to ensure the prisoner didn't make trouble but, seeing how the dragonborn swayed as he walked, Pariah was glad they went with him.
She took the reins of the other sled nervously. She had been curious about how to drive one, and had been observing Bjarnson during the trip. It shouldn't be much harder than handling a cart horse, not that she'd done that very often.
It helped that the dogs were tired so didn't seem tempted to run off with the sled. She followed Bjarnson down the street towards Frozenfar, circling around to the fenced-off area behind the shop. There she helped Bjarnson unharness the teams while Dejen went to knock on the back door and call out the shopkeeper.
Atenas came out of the shop, saw the group there, and then turned to call back through the door. "Jarthra, the dogs are back. Get them some food." He closed the door and greeted the travelers with a smile. "I hope your journey was successful." He looked around the yard, his smile fading a bit. "And the speaker?" he asked.
"He's fine," Pariah said. "He's in the barracks locking up a prisoner."
"Oh, good," the man said in obvious relief.
"He handled himself well," she assured him. "I see what you mean about him having been an adventurer."
"He's good for this town," he said proudly.
She waved to some of the supplies they'd gotten from the duergar base. "We have some equipment you might be interested in. Weapons and armor too. I'm wondering if we could make a deal for sleds and dogs in trade."
"I'm happy to look at your wares, but I can't part with sleds or dogs," he said as he started to paw through the cargo. "We depend on them too much. You'd be better off buying in Easthaven or Bryn Shander."
"I thought about that," she admitted. "The problem is we have to escort this prisoner to Easthaven, and I'd hate to make that trip on foot." She looked at the sled they had gotten from the duergar. She sighed, "And that's not going to fit five of us plus a prisoner."
The door to the shop opened, and Jarthas the dwarf came out carrying a bucket. He whistled sharply and the dogs came running over. As they swarmed around him, he started tossing hunks of fish from the bucket, which the dogs devoured hungrily.
Atenas and Pariah watched the dogs eat. He said, "Pity those bastards in Easthaven stopped running the ferry. That'd make the trip easy."
She looked at him, surprised by the venom in his tone. "You know the ferry's frozen in, right? The whole dock area is a solid block of ice, just like here."
"Oh?" he said skeptically. "We just assumed they'd abandoned us."
"I don't think so. It really is completely blocked in by ice."
He harrumphed and continued to watch the dogs. After a moment he said, "You might be able to get dogs and a second sled in Caer-Dineval." His tone didn't sound hopeful.
"Probably not," she said in disappointment. "I think they are in the same situation; they need the sleds they have." She grimaced at the thought of it as she said, "I guess we'll just have to slog it out on foot."
She watched the dogs finishing their meals and sniffing around the yard for scraps they'd missed. She asked him, "You know the market. How likely is it that Easthaven will have another sled and a few dogs?"
"Pretty likely," he said. "They are a hub for the eastern towns so tend to have extra everything. Bryn Shander certainly would."
She had an idea, though she wasn't sure it was something he'd agree to. She started by saying, "We'll need another harness for our sled, plus I wouldn't mind if you looked it over to be sure it's in shape."
He glanced over at it and nodded. "I have spare harnesses so that's no problem. I can look it over tonight. I assume you aren't leaving until morning?"
"That's right," she nodded. "What I'm wondering is maybe we could leave a deposit to borrow one of your sleds and all your dogs. We take them to Easthaven, buy our own, and then..." She trailed off. "I don't know how we'd get your team back to you. I guess we could drop off the prisoner, buy a sled and team there, come back here...ugh, but we need to take that body to Bryn Shander."
That comment got her raised eyebrows from him. She couldn't help but chuckle. "Wanted fugitive," she explained. "Trovus helped us take him down."
"Well, maybe Trovus could go with you to Easthaven," he suggested. "Then he could bring our sleds back, and you would need both our sleds if there are going to be a total of seven of you. Er, eight with the body."
Pariah hesitated. Trovus had certainly had his heroic moments, but he had also drunk constantly. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but can you trust him to make the run back here on his own."
Atenas scowled at her, but then his expression softened. "Speaker Trovus has his...eccentricities, but we trust him. He'll be sure to bring the sleds back to me."
Pariah wondered about how smart it was to bring a town speaker to Caer-Dineval and a cult of devil worshippers, but that was a thought for another time. "Then maybe we can do that. I'll talk to Trovus and the others." She waved towards the goods. "Let's talk trade first."
Atenas was reluctant to take much from their duergar spoils, saying that they didn't get enough traffic to keep a lot of inventory on hand. He took only about a quarter of the haul, but he threw in another dozen dragons as a finder's fee for the bag of pearls. He assured her that they could sell the rest of their haul in Easthaven, maybe even some of it in Caer-Dineval, and they should have enough for a second sled and two small teams of dogs. He said three to four dogs per sled was a minimum, six was better, and twelve was ideal. She was surprised by the number at first, but then realized most of the sleds she'd seen so far had been pulled by large dog teams.
They helped him carry the cargo he'd bought inside the shop. Pariah's curiosity had been tugging at her and she asked as nonchalantly as she could, "So, uh, Torg's headed off towards Dwarven Valley this morning?"
"Yes," Atenas said as he stacked the new items on shelves. "You could probably catch them there, though they won't sell their dog sleds either."
"I imagine not," she said. "Anything going on with them? Torrga seemed upset last night." She hadn't actually seen Torrga, but was trying to approach the subject of Sephek's death obliquely.
Atenas stopped his restocking and got a thoughtful look. "Now that you mention it, she did seem kind of off about something. I saw her and her crew wandering through town looking for something, and they left later than they usually do. I didn't think much about it because she's not that friendly at the best of times." He shrugged. "Who knows?"
"Who knows?" Pariah agreed. She had hoped to see the woman before she left to try to get an idea how she was taking the news of Sephek's death. Then again, she wouldn't necessarily know about it. From her perspective, would have just disappeared.
She wondered if Torrga had known about Sephek's activities, and how close she was to him. Was he just a guard to her? A friend? Had she reported his disappearance to the speaker and, if so, what had Trovus told her?
Zariel and Eberic weren't back from the barracks yet, so Pariah asked Lulu, "Is everything done with the prisoner?"
"Yeah," she said. "Zariel is making sure he's chained up really well." In a loud whisper, she added, "She's not very impressed with their ability to keep prisoners."
"I guess they aren't set up for that, from what Trovus said. I assume the body is still there?"
"Yes, though the soldiers had gotten pretty spooked about it so put it outside in the back, chained to a fence post. Zariel was mad, but they said if she didn't like it she could take it to her inn room. I think she considered doing that, but decided to leave it there."
Pariah couldn't help but laugh; Eberic's room would have a spare bed, though he probably wouldn't appreciate the roommate. She said, "We might as well go drop off the lantern and get our rooms for the night." She looked down at the two goats, their rope being held by Bjarnson. She realized she didn't know who they belonged to, and Trovus wasn't back yet. "Hey, Atenas, do you know who the goats were stolen from?"
"Those belonged to Eglendar at the Hook, Line, and Sinker."
"Probably should drop them off first," she said thoughtfully. "If nothing else, they're probably hungry." Plus, she thought to herself, she'd rather duck in and out of the tavern before Trovus tried to drag them in for a celebratory drink or twelve.
Bjarnson led the goats out of the shop, with Pariah, Dejen and Lulu close behind. They headed down the road towards the plaza and the Hook, Line, and Sinker. The half-elf proprietor was delighted by the return of the animals, and sheepishly said he couldn't offer more than a night of free food and drinks as a reward. Pariah said playfully, "If that includes Trovus, than you're going to lose more than the goats are worth."
He gave a half-hearted laugh, and she quickly said, "I'm kidding. He really was a great help tracking down the thieves and getting all the stolen items back."
Eglendar relaxed into a broad grin and said, "Have a seat and I'll serve you your first round!"
"Not just yet," she cautioned him, holding up the lantern of shifting colors. "We want to return this and get our rooms. We'll come back."
"I'll leave a table open," he said graciously.
They headed back out and across the plaza to The Northern Light. Inside, they found Allie wiping down tables in the dining room. Her eyes lit up as she spotted the lantern and she squealed, "You found it!" She rushed forward, yelling over her shoulder, "Cori! They found the lantern!"
The sour-faced woman came out of the kitchen to scowl at them. "It's about time," she mumbled.
Allie tried to take the lantern but Cori moved faster and snatched it away from Pariah. To Allie she said, "We have to lock this up at night. We can't have a repeat of this."
"All right," Allie said sadly. Then she exclaimed, "But we can put it up for now, right? Surely people will want to know the Northern Light is back. We can take it down later, right?"
Cori frowned at her and then grumbled, "Fine, but don't forget to take it inside before you go to bed!"
Allie squealed as she took the lantern from her and turned to rush out the front door.
Cori looked down her nose at Pariah. "Did Torrga ever find you?"
"Me?" Pariah asked in surprise. "No, why?"
Cori curled her lip and said, "She said some pale tiefling woman seduced away one of her guards. Wanted to know if he was in your bed."
"What?" Pariah asked, even more confused. And then she remembered her flirty speech, and that she had implied she was looking for a quickie with Sephek. "Uh, no, I never found him that night," she lied badly.
Cori sniffed disapprovingly and then turned and re-entered the kitchen.
Allie came back in, bursting with energy. "Thank you all so much! That lantern has been a town landmark forever, and I felt so bad for losing it. I wish I could offer you more, but I can certainly give you free rooms for the night. Three rooms again?"
"Yes," Pariah said.
Allie walked back into the entry room and the desk there. As she took out three keys, she said hesitantly, "And Speaker Trovus went with you, right? He's not hurt is he?"
"No," Pariah assured her. "Well, yes, a little." At Allie's shocked look, Pariah quickly added, "He's fine, just a few warrior's bruises. He fought well."
"I'm so pleased," she said in relief as she passed the keys over. "I can't wait to hear him tell us what happened!"
Lulu piped up, "He's headed for the tavern." She turned to the others and said, "He wants us all to join him there."
Pariah suppressed a groan. "I don't know," she said. "I know it's not that late, but I was going to eat and turn in early. It's been a long day."
Bjarnson and Dejen agreed, so Pariah said, "Have Zariel tell Trovus that Allie wants to hear the story of our adventure. See if that gets him over here."
Allie was watching them in confusion, so Pariah nodded towards the asteri and said, "Lulu can use her mind to talk to her friend, who's with Trovus right now."
"Oh, that's delightful," Allie replied brightly.
Lulu said, "They're coming over to eat, but Trovus insists on taking us to the Hook, Line, and Sinker after for a celebration."
"Great," Pariah said without enthusiasm.
Notes:
Now you maybe wondering why they didn't just take the prisoner to Dwarven Valley. The dwarves are close, they must have prison cells, plus they have a bunch of people who speak Dethek. The reason is...because I didn't want to. I would have had to come up with a bunch of planning and descriptions and characters just to bang out a few chapters that boil down to "they drop off a prisoner", so I just skipped the possibility.
I kind of glossed over Torrga's reaction to having one of her caravan guards disappear. I happened to be reviewing a previous chapter where Pariah was talking to her about him, and I had forgotten that she pointedly said she was looking for someone to warm her bed. So I came here and quickly threw in a few lines. I'm not sure how it will go if she bumps into Torrga again.
Chapter 40: Return to the Black Castle
Summary:
Another day dawns in Icewind Dale. The group prepares to leave Caer-Konig, headed for Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Pariah turned her face away, grimacing at the smell from the two-day old corpse of Sephek Kaltro. Nobody had wanted to be the one to load it on the waiting sled, but finally she and Bjarnson volunteered. What made it harder to carry was that it had frozen solid in the outdoor air and was coated by a thin layer of ice. Thankfully, the guards had laid the body down so it was like carrying a log -- a stinky, stinky log. The corpse smell certainly wasn't helping her hangover queasiness. Trovus had been quite insistent that they all celebrate last night.
He had regaled the sisters at the inn with the tale of their adventure as they ate dinner, and then repeated the story to the customers at the tavern once they moved there. The townspeople had cheered and celebrated, and Pariah started to see the respect they had for him. He was not the silly drunk everyone felt sorry for; he was the semi-retired hero who was dealing with some old wounds. She wondered what his story was, but the crowded tavern hadn't exactly been the place to ask. The crowd had still been reveling when she and the others left.
Now, the party was over, and she was carrying an ice-covered corpse across the snow on a dark, cold morning. The body was wrapped in a couple of blankets. She had pulled back the wrapping to check his face, worried that he had been stolen by Aurilites and replaced. His face was swollen and foam was frozen around his mouth, but it had been recognizably the face of Sephek Kaltro. She had also double checked that her dagger was still in place, piercing his heart.
Part of the reason she and Bjarnson had volunteered to fetch the body was that they were going to carry it on their sled. Eberic was at the reins of the sled they'd gotten from the duergar, along with Zariel and the chained up prisoner. Trovus would be driving the other, accompanied by Dejen, a barrel of dwarven ale, and a case of wine. The alcohol had actually been Pariah's idea. They were going to have to stop in Caer-Dineval to rest the dogs and to check on the captives in the castle, but she didn't want to take Trovus inside. She suggested that he bring the alcohol to sell to the tavern, and she knew he'd insist on having a few rounds to be polite. That should keep him busy.
That left her, Bjarnson and the dead Sephek Kaltro on the third sled. Lulu was currently flitting from group to group, though Pariah guessed she'd travel with Zariel once they got moving.
Once the corpse and their belongings were strapped down, Pariah moved to the front of the sled and nervously took the reins. From behind her, Bjarnson said, "Relax, you'll be fine just like you were yesterday. The dogs do most of the work; you're here just to point them in the right direction."
She turned to give him an uneasy smile, and then lightly shook the reins and called out, "Hike!" to get the team moving. They fell into line behind Trovus's sled who was following Eberic. She slowed as they reached the ruined caer, calling out "Gee!" as she gently pulled the reins to guide the dogs to the right, onto the road that led out of Caer-Konig.
A light wind came from the east, blowing a flurry of snow into their path, but the way ahead was clear. Zariel and Lulu had lit up the front rails of the first and third sleds, and in the second, Dejen let his magic lantern burn, regularly checking it for a green flame. He had admitted the night before that he was disappointed they hadn't met any more chwinga, but he hadn't given up.
Their speed slowly picked up. The load was a little heavy for the four-dog teams, but Bjarnson assured her that Icewind Dale sled dogs had amazing stamina. It took them a while to get up to their full speed, but they could maintain it for hours without a rest.
In just over two hours, they saw the spire of Caer-Dineval on the horizon. She'd been nervous during the entire trip, holding the reins tightly. She wasn't sure why she was so much tenser than she had been the previous day, but she had to keep forcibly reminding herself to relax her neck and shoulders. In addition, she hadn't secured her coat well and the cold air got in. She knew she probably could have let go of the reins long enough to secure it, or even ask Bjarnson to relieve her, but she didn't want to take her attention off the road.
The eastern horizon was still dark so it was before ten o'clock. She wasn't sure if the Uphill Climb opened that early, but figured that, in a small town like this, it probably opened whenever someone needed it.
They pulled up in front of the tavern and saw there was light inside. Pariah didn't feel like facing the tavern keeper's open hostility so volunteered to stay out with the sleds while the others carried in the keg and the wine; she heard the cry of joy from inside when they went through the door. Eberic also escorted the sulky duergar prisoner inside. They had decided not to take him into the castle to avoid having him confiscated by the Black Sword. She'd rather he was questioned in Easthaven where he might be treated at least somewhat fairly.
Zariel and Bjarnson came back out. The three of them would go to the castle while the others kept Trovus and the duergar in the tavern. Lulu would stay in the tavern to facilitate communication between the two groups. Bjarnson boarded one sled while Zariel took the reins of the other, even more nervous than Pariah had been, and Pariah led the train of three sleds towards the caer gates.
As before, nobody reacted as they approached. Pariah called out and after a moment the same man who had greeted them the first time came out on the battlements. He grinned in recognition and called down, "Hello, sister!" before hustling back into the tower to open the portcullis and gate.
After entering the courtyard, Pariah steered to the right and stopped her sled right in front of the small kennel. "Hey, Alassar," she called out as she dismounted.
The kennel boy had already been looking out the grate, and he opened the door to greet her with a wide grin. "Hello, missus." Through the doorway she could see the castle dogs perking up and sniffing the air.
She returned his grin and said, "Is it OK if we let our dogs loose? Are your dogs going to have a problem with a bunch of strangers in their midst?"
"Not at all, missus," he said, looking over the teams. "These are the dogs from Caer-Konig, right? They've been here before, though not for a long time."
The gates had already closed, so she and Alassar and Bjarnson unharnessed their teams. The dogs came out from inside the kennel to investigate and, after a little cautious sniffing, the dogs all started to run around the courtyard.
The boy said hesitantly, "Is the angel with you?"
"Lulu?" Pariah replied. "She's at the Uphill Climb with the rest of our friends right now." Seeing his look of disappointment, she added, "She might come by later."
Bjarnson said to him, "We've brought food for our dogs, but it's frozen during the trip. Mind helping me carry it to the kitchen so we can warm it up?"
"Sure thing," he said, hurrying over to pick up some bundles.
The big man said to Pariah and Zariel, "Do we want to see if they'll feed us? It's a good five or six hours to Easthaven."
It was early for lunch, but Pariah would rather have something warm at a table than something cold while riding the sled, so she said, "I could eat." Zariel didn't have an opinion either way.
Pariah looked up at the keep and sighed, "While you're taking care of that, I want to see how the castle staff is doing. Make sure these people are living up to their end of the bargain." She looked over at Zariel and said reluctantly, "And I guess we should tell Kadroth that we cleared a duergar base. Maybe we can swing more privileges for them."
Zariel scowled but said, "I suppose so."
As they climbed the steps towards the main doors, Pariah said to Alassar, "Has anything major happened since we were last here?"
"Well, the staff was moved upstairs, but I guess you know about that." He ducked his head. "Thanks for that, by the way. I was trying not to think about how bad it was for them."
Pariah pulled open the door and waved the others through. "Are they eating better?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, missus. I just take care of the dogs."
They had entered the main hall, the long tables empty and not yet set for lunch. The chandelier cast meager light in the large space. She could hear hammering from upstairs. As they crossed towards the kitchen, she asked, "Have they moved people into the new room or are they all piled up in the speaker's room?"
"They're all in one room, but they are getting the other room ready." He jerked his head upwards in the general direction of the hammering. "They just got back from a run to Easthaven to get iron bars to seal the windows."
Bjarnson and Alassar carried the food into the kitchen, and Bjarnson said, "Morning, Karou."
Pariah heard a grunt of response from the cook. She peeked her head into the kitchen to see he was alone. She asked him, "Are the prisoners being fed better?"
The cook glanced at her before going back to his work. "Yeah. We bring them food at every meal. Some of them are still pretty weak, though. Speaker Siever complains a lot about everything, but he's always done that." He fixed her with a stern gaze. "Are you going to sleep here tonight? Because they've moved some of the beds out of the servants' quarters."
"No," she said. "We're giving the dogs a rest and then were headed to Easthaven this afternoon. So where's Mere?" she asked.
Karou shrugged. "He should be upstairs cleaning, but who knows what that lazy boy gets up to?"
She guessed that Bjarnson was mostly interested caring for the dogs and helping with the cooking, so she said, "Zariel, let's go upstairs and check in with the prisoners."
"We should meet with Kadroth," the other woman said with a look towards his sitting room door. "I'll go see him while you do that."
Pariah didn't really want Zariel to meet with him alone. She had a temper and benefitted from having someone like Lulu or Pariah around to step in if she got too upset. However, she didn't really want to say that out loud so instead she said, "It sounds like they might need some healing magic."
"That's true," Zariel admitted. "Very well, let's go see them first."
Pariah led the way upstairs, turning left at the landing to head towards the speaker's quarters. A tall woman with chestnut hair and green eyes studied them suspiciously as they approached. The sound of hammering came from behind the closed door to the soothsayer's room, and Pariah had to raise her voice as she said to the guard, "We want to see the prisoners."
The woman paused, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them, but then reached down to open the door and step aside. The guard followed them into the room and closed the door, planting herself in front of it.
The room had changed since she had been here last. It still had the trappings of luxury -- soft double bed, warm blankets, tapestries, thick rug -- but four of the servants' crude beds had been moved in and other furniture had been shoved to the side or removed to make room. The fireplace in the corner kept the room decently warm, especially compared to the rest of the castle.
The six occupants of the room were all human. A middle-aged couple lay in the double bed under the blankets; the man was asleep but the woman raised her head weakly to see who had come in. A thirty-something woman with a hard expression was sitting up in bed talking to a bearded man in his twenties sitting in the bed adjacent. They both looked gaunt and tired. A pale, elderly man struggled to get out of bed, saying in an unsteady voice, "Good morning. Are you here to see the speaker?"
Speaker Crannoc Siever himself was putting a log in the fireplace in the corner. He said firmly, "Lanthis, get back under those covers."
"I'm fine, sir," the old man assured him as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He was wearing a dressing gown and was barefoot. He shuffled across the carpet to greet them. Although his body seemed weak, his eyes were sharp as they darted over their clothing, pointedly staring at their necks.
Pariah opened her fur cloak to show the lack of a black sword pendant. "We aren't with these assholes," she said. "Fuck Levistus."
The old man allowed himself a hint of a grin. "Ah, then perhaps you are the ones who negotiated more appropriate quarters for us. You have our thanks."
She inclined her head towards him. The speaker straightened up and crossed the room to put a hand on the old man's shoulder. "I mean it, Lanthis," he scowled. "Get back into bed. That's an order."
Lanthis nodded to him and said, "As you wish, sir."
Crannoc guided him back to his bed, saying over his shoulder, "It's tight quarters in here. Any idea when they will get moved into the other room? And that racket is giving me a headache."
"I don't know anything about that," Pariah said gently. "We just wanted to be sure everyone had gotten settled. Are they treating you OK? I mean other than being prisoners."
He frowned at her. "They are feeding us and keeping us warm. But some of these people need healers, and they refuse to provide any."
Zariel said, "Perhaps I can be of some assistance. And we have a companion who knows of herbal remedies."
Crannoc motioned to Lanthis. "Start with him. And then them," he waved towards the couple in the bed. "I think everyone needs to be looked over, though."
Zariel knelt by the old man's bed and the speaker moved to stand in front of Pariah and glare at her. "I don't trust you," he said.
She sighed. "Just because I'm a tiefling? I told you: fuck Levistus." He showed him her hands. "I have these scars specifically because I rejected him."
Zariel said, "That's true. I was there. And I would add that she was the one who negotiated bringing these others up from the cistern."
Crannoc looked at Pariah skeptically, and she said in exasperation, "Would it help if I spat in her face?" as she jerked a thumb at the guard behind her.
She could feel the woman tense up. Crannoc darted a glance over Pariah's shoulder and then back at her. After a moment, his expression relaxed. "I'd like to see that, but I imagine it wouldn't go well for either of us."
"Do you need anything?" she asked.
"Our freedom."
"We're working on that," she promised him. "Anything in the short term? I think we are going to be able to ask Kadroth for some concessions."
Crannoc looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Medicine. Exercise; being able to walk about the castle would help. This is a small room to be cooped up in together. And books or something else to do. What do the people in town think of all of this?"
She shrugged. "They don't know. They have been told you are sick and that Kadroth is speaking for you."
"And you haven't seen fit to tell them the truth?" he asked sharply.
"We've tried," she assured him. "We are under some kind of enchantment. We can't say anything or write anything down about the situation in the castle. Any time we try, we just freeze up."
Crannoc gave an unsatisfied grunt. A man's voice asked, "Are the dogs all right?" She saw it was the young, bearded man.
"They're fine," she said. "Alassar is taking care of them, though they probably don't get enough exercise either. But they're well fed and don't seem to be mistreated."
He grunted, "Good. I hoped that boy would be on top of it."
Pariah looked around the room and realized that they were all looking at her suspiciously. These people had been conditioned to hate tieflings, and nothing she could say was likely to change that. She said to Zariel, "Will you be OK here on your own? I'm going to go look for Mere and then send Bjarnson up here."
"I will be fine," the woman assured her as she rose to her feet. She said firmly, "Please do not consult with Kadroth without me."
"All right." She hadn't planned to see the cult leader just yet, though she wondered if having Zariel along would be a advantage because of her knowledge of Levistus and infernal dealings, or a disadvantage due to her temper. However, it certainly wouldn't hurt to have another pair of ears in the room.
The corners of Zariel's mouth tightened. "Did you plan to see Avarice?"
Pariah was surprised by the question. "Gods, no! I got what I needed from her. I'm happy never to see her again."
Zariel gave an approving nod, and then crossed the room towards the double bed.
Pariah said to Crannoc, "We'll be leaving in an hour or two, but we should be able to get you all a few more privileges before we go. If you think of anything else you need, let Zariel know."
She turned to leave and saw the guard watching her sharply, even more sharply than the captives had. The woman opened the door for her and gave her an empty smile. Pariah exited into the corridor and the guard closed the door behind her, remaining inside.
Pariah glanced at the door to the soothsayer's room and considered poking her head in to see how the construction was coming, but decided against it. She didn't want to see any more of the cultists than she had to.
She headed back out to the stairs, crossing over to the other balcony. She hadn't been over here before. Like the other side, there was a single door in the wall, though this one was offset rather than centered. It was open. She glanced over the railing into the dining room, but didn't see Mere down there.
She entered the door to find another luxurious bedroom, though the fireplace in this room was cold and empty. A canopied bed against the left wall was covered with only a single top sheet that shone like silk. A closed door was set in the wall to one side of it, and a wooden table with a drawer was on the other.
A black cat stared down at her with a bored air from the top of a mahogany wardrobe that dominated the nearest wall. In the far corner, angled away from her, was a gold-framed mirror that reached to the ceiling and was a good four feet across. Mere was carefully polishing the glass with a fur chamois.
"Hi, Mere," she said cheerfully, glad to see him again.
The boy jumped and whirled around, fear etched in his features. However, once he saw her he relaxed and smiled. "Hello, missus," he said with enthusiasm as he turned back to his job. "You're back then?"
"Just for a little bit to rest our dogs. We're continuing through to Easthaven, though we'll be back. We're still working on getting all of you out of here."
"Thank you, missus," he said with less skepticism than before. "I see you got the others up from below. I'm glad to see them getting taken care of."
"Me, too. In fact I’m going to talk to Kadroth about getting them better treatment. Do you or the cook need anything as long as we're asking?"
"No, missus. We're doing all right, all things considered. Cook probably wants game other than knucklehead. He might not say it, but he was really glad about that cat meat you brought. It went pretty fast."
"They don't send out hunting parties?" she asked as she wandered around the room, her thief's eye tallying up the possessions. She didn't necessarily plan to take anything, but it was always good to know what was around: ivory comb, good quality ewer and basin, nothing on top of the bedside table, though she wondered what was in the drawer.
"No, missus. They don't leave the castle much at all."
She opened the wardrobe to see fine clothes and shoes inside, and then she closed it again. "What's through there?" she asked, nodding at the door.
"The library," he replied.
"Library?" she asked in excitement.
"Well, it used to be. It's all burned up now."
"Did these people do that?" she asked with a frown.
"No, missus. It was the orcs years ago, from what they tell me."
She was curious so she crossed the room and opened the door. A draft blew out a few particles of soot. The room was unlit but she could see well enough to see burned shelves, destroyed books, and a cold fireplace that emitted the whistle of an open flue. She ran her eyes over the shelves, but any book that had survived was long gone.
She closed the door again.
Through the window of the bedroom she was in she could see the sky was growing light in the meager day of Icewind Dale. She watched the tiefling boy eye his work critically, rubbing out a spot with his thumb before going over it with the chamois again. She said, "Mere, have you eaten lunch yet?"
"No, missus. I've got more chores to do before that."
She looked at the wall in the direction of the unseen bedroom where the prisoners were held. Impulsively she said, "I think we are all going to have lunch together. In fact, we're going to have a goddamn feast!"
Notes:
I don't know if introducing a dozen new dogs to the dogs in Caer-Dineval would actually be this easy, but I didn't want to waste half a chapter showing the dogs fighting and getting used to each other.
I'm struggling to remember which guards I've described and trying to keep track of all of them, even though nobody's going to notice if the blonde guard suddenly has black hair.
It occurred to me that people might want help visualizing the area, so I found a map of the area on the Icewind Dale page of the Forgotten Realms wiki. Unfortunately, I can't link to the map image directly.
Chapter 41: Grim Feast
Summary:
On their way to Easthaven and Bryn Shander, Pariah and the group stop in Caer-Dineval to negotiate with the leader of the Black Sword.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
The mood in the great hall was less festive than Pariah had envisioned. A half-dozen of the castle guard stood around the room, blocking exits and watching the prisoners grimly. The captives themselves were still weak from the poor treatment, and the room was ice cold since the castle's new occupants preferred it that way. There were fireplaces, but it would have taken hours to bring this space up to a decent temperature so everyone was just bundled up.
The speaker's translator was too sick to come down to eat, and her husband, the speaker's butler, had refused to leave her side so they were still upstairs. Pariah had pressed Mere, Karou and Alassar to join the feast, and the three of them sat there uncomfortably, eying the guards. The meal itself was unimpressive. The castle stores were limited in variety and, though Pariah and the others had dug into their own rations to supplement as best they could, there still hadn't been much to work with.
Eberic, Dejen and Lulu had stayed at the Uphill Climb rather than joining them in the caer. They had decided that keeping Trovus away and hiding the existence of the duergar prisoner from the Black Sword were more important, so they were eating at the tavern.
Pariah looked around the table feeling disappointed. In hindsight, it probably would have been better to have done this in the speaker's bedroom where it was warmer. And she shouldn't have pressured the servants to join them.
Crannoc said, "Well, it looks like we are done here. Shall we head back upstairs?"
Pariah wasn't surprised at the amount of enthusiasm for the idea. A warm prison cell was more comfortable than a freezing cold dining room. Alassar headed towards the front door, obviously anxious to be back with his dogs.
The speaker gave her a polite smile and said, "Thank you for the feast."
"It was nothing," she said, feeling embarrassed. It had literally been nothing.
As the prisoners and their escort headed for the stairs, Zariel said, "Shall we go talk to Kadroth, then?"
"Sure," Pariah said.
Bjarnson started gathering dishes. "You two go ahead. I don't think I can add anything, so I'll help clean up here."
Thoob had been standing outside the closed door to Kadroth's sitting room, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded, watching the gathering with a sour look. As Pariah and Zariel approached, he straightened up and donned his smarmy smile. "Please go ahead. My master is waiting for you." He held the door open for them.
Kadroth was waiting for them in the sitting room rather than in his office. He sat in an overstuffed chair puffing on his pipe, a glass of wine on the table next to him. "Please, have a seat," he said without standing. The fear and suspicion she had previously seen in him was gone, replaced by the same haughty, calculating air he had displayed at their first meeting. "How have you served our master since you left us?"
Pariah narrowed her eyes but didn't rise to the bait. The phrasing made her think that Levistus was prompting him to taunt her. She said matter-of-factly, "We found a few duergar in an abandoned outpost near Dwarven Valley. The leader was the son of whoever's in charge of all of this. We cleared them out and found evidence that there are more duergar in Easthaven. We are going there next. They are led by another of the commander's sons. We don't know where their main fort is, other than its in the mountains to the south, which I think you already knew. That's about it."
Kadroth drew on his pipe. "Did you discover their purpose?" he said as smoke drifted from his mouth.
"They are looking for chardalyn for this weapon they are building. I don't know what the weapon is."
"And did you find any chardalyn?"
"No," she said, maintaining eye contact. They still weren't sure what they were going to do with the chardalyn, but they all had agreed they weren’t going to turn it over to the Black Sword.
He puffed on his pipe, holding her gaze silently. She waited. Eventually he said, "And you killed all the duergar?"
"Yes," she lied again. "And an undead ogre and a bunch of things called spore servants. We also took all the supplies they had stocked." She frowned mentally as she thought of something; they probably should have tried to send a message to Dwarven Valley so they could follow up and be sure the place stayed empty. Maybe Trovus could do that when he got back.
Wanting to move on from the lie, she said, "There are also supposed to be some duergar here in Caer-Dineval, but it sounds like you already took care of them."
Kadroth continued to smoke silently.
She said, "In light of the fact we've killed some of the duergar as Levistus requested, how about a show of good faith? Give the prisoners some time to exercise outside. And give them something to pass the time. If nothing else, I've never met a group of soldiers who doesn't have cards and a set of dice."
He snorted. "Is that all?" he asked sarcastically. "How about hot oil massages or a court minstrel?"
"Those'd be nice, too," she said with a cold smile.
He took out his pipe and tapped the stem against his other hand. "One hour of exercise in the yard at dawn. However, any attempt to escape or alert the town will incur the loss of privilege for all prisoners." He sneered, "I don't allow gambling so there are no cards or dice."
She suspected the soldiers had cards and dice they used when he wasn't looking, but there was no reason to pursue that. She said, "I'll find something in town. Games or books or something."
Kadroth grimaced but said, "Very well. Anything you bring must be authorized by me."
She looked over her shoulder at Zariel. "Anything else you can think of?"
"Medicine," the other woman said.
"We don't have any," Kadroth replied. "Our master keeps us healthy."
Pariah wasn't sure she believed they had no medicine at all, but she said, "What if we can find some in town?"
He frowned again. "Very well."
She sensed his impatience and didn't want to push him too hard. She said, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to sell us your dogs and your sled. It would make it easier for us to find the rest of the duergar."
He shook his head without hesitation. "No. We need them for our own purposes. You said you are going to Easthaven, so you can buy there."
"All right. We'll go into town and come back with what we can find, and then we'll continue on to Easthaven." She looked over at Zariel. "Is that it?"
"I suppose so," the woman said.
Pariah and Zariel left the sitting room without acknowledging either Kadroth or Thoob, and headed back out to the great hall. Bjarnson was there helping Mere gather the dishes, and Pariah said to him, "We're going to head into town to pick up a few last supplies for the prisoners. You want to come?"
"No," he said. "I assume we will be leaving soon?"
She nodded.
He straightened up. "Then I'll get the dogs harnessed so we can be ready. We still have a few hours on the road and I'd like to get to Easthaven before it gets to be too late."
Zariel said to her, "I think I'll stay, then. I don't think any of us should be here alone."
"True," Pariah agreed. "I won't be long."
She headed out into the courtyard, which was illuminated in the dim light of day. The air was still and the sky was nearly cloudless, bright blue despite the sun not quite being up. She waved at Alassar, who was sitting among a cluster of a half-dozen of their sled dogs that were lying down to sleep. He waved back. Some of the other dogs were roughhousing or exploring the new area. Their sleds were lined up against one wall, their luggage still strapped on. That reminded her of something.
"There's a body aboard one of the sleds," she called over to Alassar. "Make sure the dogs don't get at it."
"I saw it, missus," he called back. "It's too old for the dogs to care about."
She was a little surprised by how casual his tone was, but then she'd seen a few bodies by the time she was his age. Maybe this wasn't something new to him.
The guards opened the gate a sliver so she could slip out; she kept an eye on the dogs, but they watched her dispassionately and didn't run for the outside. Once through the gate, she ambled down the road towards the Uphill Climb. She stopped, one handle on the door, and braced herself for the hostility she expected inside.
She entered to see that the tavern keeper was leaning against the wall, frowning at their duergar prisoner. The latter was in a chair, his hands bound behind his back, face down in a bowl of stew like a dog. Eberic was standing over him, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. In the other room, Dejen, Trovus and Culver were sitting across the latter's table of trinkets. They looked up as she entered. Lulu was sitting on a rafter watching the duergar.
"What's this?" she asked, motioning towards the duergar.
"Feeding him," Eberic grunted.
"Like he's an animal?" she asked sharply.
"I'm not going to untie him," he insisted.
While she admitted that was probably a good idea, there was no reason to humiliate him. To the tavern keeper she said, "Can I get a cloth? And a spoon?"
He scowled but took a towel from his belt and tossed it to her. "Spoons are there," he said, nodding towards the communal stew pot.
Pariah had planned to meet his hostility with friendliness, but seeing the prisoner like that had thrown her. She grimaced as she crossed the room to get a spoon. Forcing a smile she said to him, "I never got your name. I'm Pariah."
He glowered at her. "Roark."
She suppressed a sigh. "I'm not with the people in the castle." She wanted to add a "Fuck Levistus" but doubted she'd be allowed to speak the words, and the sentiment would be lost on him anyhow.
He just grunted in return.
She sat down next to the duergar and put a hand on his shoulder to prompt him to sit up. She wiped his face with the cloth, though that didn't accomplish much because his beard had soaked up an awful lot of it. Seeing the bowl was nearly empty, not to mention full of beard hair, she said, "Eberic, get a fresh bowl of stew."
The dwarf frowned at her.
She frowned back and said sharply, "Please?"
He mumbled something under his breath but crossed the room to pour another bowl of stew. He brought it over and dropped it on the table, spilling some of it out.
The duergar gave her a hateful look and said something she didn't understand. Somehow, she doubted it was meant to be a thank you, but she scooped up a spoonful of stew and raised it to his mouth. He looked at it suspiciously, looked back at her, and then blew on it a couple of times before opening his mouth. She fed him the bite.
He spat the stew in her face.
Eberic made a smug grunt as the liquid ran down and dripped off her chin. The duergar sneered at her and said something else she didn't understand. She wiped the stew off, though the rag was well soaked by now, and moved the bowl away from him. "Fine, I guess you don't eat," she sighed. They'd be in Easthaven by the evening so he could eat once he was in a cell.
Dejen said, "So how are things in the caer? I told them about the sickness that had spread through the place. About how that was why they had sealed the gates and hadn't let anyone out." He was giving her an intense look.
Smoothly she said, "I’m glad you told them. I understand Speaker Crannoc not wanting to start a panic, but I'm sure people in town are starting to worry." It was a decent lie and she was glad Dejen had thought of something. She hadn't even considered what to tell townspeople, but imagined they must be wondering what was happening.
"Then you've talked to the speaker?" Dejen asked.
"We have," she assured him. "He's getting better and hopes to be back on his feet in a few days."
Roark grunted. "Probably those new people got them sick." He eyed her suspiciously. "If there's sickness, how safe is it for you to be here in the tavern, then?"
"Oh, it's fine," she said quickly. "They kept us far from the sick people so I'm sure we aren't infected. Although, that reminds me -- is there anywhere in town I can get some medicine?"
He narrowed his eyes as he considered her story. "I don't know of anything like that. Some of the families might have their own stores, but they are keeping them for themselves."
"Maybe we can pick some up in Easthaven," she said politely. "We plan to come back and check on things in a few days. Another problem, though less serious, is that since so many people are stuck in their sick beds, they are bored. Is there anywhere I could get books or games or something."
He looked over towards Culver. The old man looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I have a stick-and-ball game, though it's for halfling children so kind of small for human hands. A set of scrimshaw dominos. Hmm, let's see, oh I have an old board game of some kind. Beautiful wood gaming surface, stone play pieces. But I don't have the rules so I don't know how it's supposed to be played."
"Maybe they can make up their own rules," Dejen suggested. "That might be an exciting way to spend some time."
"Those all sound good," Pariah said as she stood. "I'll buy those from you and bring them to the castle. Bjarnson's harnessing the dogs so we'll be back with the sleds soon and we can head out."
Culver wanted only two gold dragons for the games so she paid him, picked up her new purchases and headed out the door. The cold wind quickly froze the residual stew on her face so she wiped it with one of her fur mittens before heading back uphill towards the caer.
Inside, Bjarnson and Alassar had harnessed one of the teams and was working on a second. Zariel stood nearby, watching them. Pariah nodded to them and started towards the keep, but Zariel called out to her. "Come here. You should look at this."
Pariah crossed over to her as she moved to the third sled, the one that contained the corpse wrapped in cloth and ropes. Zariel pulled back the edge of the cloth to reveal the face body beneath; it was sheathed in a thick layer of ice.
Pariah frowned thoughtfully at the frozen body. She reached out to tap the ice with a fingernail. It wasn't too thick, but it was solid like glass, and noticeably colder than the surrounding air. It distorted the face beneath, reminding her of the faceless in Avernus. "Maybe this is what happens to bodies in this cold."
"I wondered that myself, but Bjarnson says no."
The big man looked up from the dog he was harnessing. "I've seen bodies frozen solid when left outside, but never one encased in ice."
Pariah pulled back the cloth at Sephek's chest and saw her dagger still pierced his heart. She asked Zariel, "What do you think we should do?"
"I think we should burn it," she said emphatically. "We have the letter from Speaker Trovus as well as the dagger we recovered from the body as proof we have defeated the Coldheart Killer. Let's destroy this abomination."
Pariah nodded. "All right. I wonder if they have enough wood for a pyre."
They did.
Kadroth hemmed and hawed a bit, but grudgingly gave them access to the caer's store of wood and whale oil. Pariah was getting impatient to get moving towards Easthaven, especially since half their group was still waiting at the Uphill Climb. They didn't want to bring either Trovus or the duergar into the castle, and they didn't want to bring the mysterious corpse outside, so they simply had to hurry.
With the help of the soldiers, the body was soon lying on a pile of oil-soaked wood. Bjarnson used his magic to ignite the pyre and flames roared up around Kaltro's corpse, but didn't reach him. The fire curved around his body as though he was protected by a bubble of magic. It got hot enough to scorch the cloth and ropes, but the body didn't burn and the ice didn't melt. Bjarnson threw fire from his palms, and Zariel made the flames burn hotter, but the body remained untouched. When it became clear that the fire wasn't doing anything, Zariel reached out and extinguished the flames with her magic.
Pariah, Zariel and Bjarnson stood silently alongside five soldiers, watching the smoldering pile of wood. One of the men said, "Behold the power of Levistus. Flame cannot melt the ice, just as flame cannot melt the ice of his prison."
"Shut the fuck up," Pariah snapped. To Zariel, she said, "What should we do?"
Zariel was watching the body with a stormy expression. "Perhaps Mishann can destroy this thing. The power of the Morninglord may be needed."
"Yeah," she agreed. She didn't relish traveling with this thing, but it was just two more days. Less since, according to Bjarnson, the trip along the Eastway from Easthaven to Bryn Shander should be fast. "Let's load him back up."
The man who had spoken, the one who had greeted them when they first arrived at the caer three days before, stepped in front of her. "Levistus has chosen to honor this man with his protection. I will not let you take him away." The other guards moved into a half-circle in front of the body.
"Talona's tits," she mumbled. More loudly, she said, "Levistus didn't do this. Auril did. He's been killing in Auril's name, which is why we are taking him to Bryn Shander for the bounty."
"You lie," he said loudly. "You curse our lord's name, and you work at odds with his plan."
"Look at him," she said. "You can see he wears Auril's sign."
The funny thing about fanatics is they weren't usually swayed by logic. The man planted his feet and put his hand on the hilt of his weapon. One of the tower doors opened and two more guards, one of which was the goliath woman, came out into the courtyard.
Pariah didn't know if they all had Levistus's ear, or if it was just the ones like Kadroth and Avarice, but she had to hope he was listening. She glared at the man and said, "Levistus, get your lackeys out of my way."
She reminded herself that Zariel was right: they had Trovus's testimony and the dagger. They didn't really need the body. She'd back down if she had to, but she didn't want to give this cult anything more than she had to, even a frozen corpse.
The man got that unfocused look they sometimes got. He then looked at her again, his faced confused. "As you wish," he said, touching his pendant. She knew he wasn't talking to her. He stepped aside as did the rest of the soldiers, though they remained on the alert.
Bjarnson and Zariel hurried forward to fetch the body and put it on the sled. They didn't bother strapping it down right away. Bjarnson said quietly, "Let's get out of here before they change their minds."
They each mounted one of the sleds. Bjarnson drove the first sled towards the gate, Zariel behind and Pariah bringing up the rear. She wanted to wave to Alassar but she was too busy keeping a careful eye on the soldiers; nearly all of them were in the courtyard now and, as she looked behind, she saw Kadroth frowning at her from the keep entrance.
The gate opened and the three sleds quickly moved out, headed towards the Uphill Climb to get the other members of their expedition.
Notes:
The whole thing with Kaltro's corpse is my own creation. As a special minion of Auril, I figure his body would behave strangely. This led to another line that don't fit the tone. I wanted Pariah to say, "If I had a silver piece for every time a burning body didn't act the way I expected, I'd have two silvers, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice."
Chapter 42: An Inconvenient Corpse
Summary:
The party brings their duergar prisoner to Easthaven for trial.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Pariah stood in the moonlit street outside the barracks in Easthaven, looking down at the icebound corpse of Sephek Kaltro that was strapped into their sled. They'd dropped the other two sleds and most of the dogs off at the kennel but none of them had wanted to carry the corpse, so they'd taken the third vehicle with them.
The others and the duergar were all inside the barracks talking to Captain Arlaggath about the prisoner and the corpse. They hoped that she would be willing to lock the body up for the night, but didn't want to carry it through the barracks until they had the captain's approval. Someone needed to watch the corpse while they went inside, and Pariah had reluctantly volunteered. She had assumed that at least one of the others would join her, but they had all hurried inside to the warmth of the barracks. It had been a five-hour trip with no breaks, and even Pariah was feeling the cold at this point.
At least Lulu had lit up Pariah's shield before she went in with the others. Pariah tried to stand still because every time she moved, the light caused the shadows to shift and made it seem like the body was moving. She had nudged him with the toe of her boot a couple of times to confirm that he was still solidly frozen. She thought the ice was thicker than before, though she wasn't sure. She tried to comfort herself that a building full of soldiers was a shout away.
She looked down the road that led to the Wet Trout tavern. Trovus had headed there rather than accompanying them to the barracks. He invited them to join him in a few drinks. Pariah didn't really want to -- she was ready for food and sleep -- but was worried about leaving him alone in a tavern. The locals might not be as accommodating as those in Caer-Konig if he passed out.
She jumped as the barracks door banged open. Zariel came out followed by the rest of the group. The duergar wasn't with them, so that was one less thing to worry about. Zariel looked dissatisfied.
Pariah asked, "So how did it go?"
Rather than answer her question, Zariel said to Bjarnson, "Do you know where we are going?"
Eberic was the one who answered, "I do. Follow me."
He headed off down the street. Bjarnson jumped into the sled to trail after him, and the others came behind. Easthaven didn't sweep their streets completely clean like Bryn Shander did, so the sled was able to move easily across the thin layer of packed snow.
Zariel said to Pariah, "The captain took the prisoner and will interrogate him. She was somewhat vague about his fate, though. She agrees that releasing him would be a mistake, but nobody has facilities for long-term imprisonment other than the prison at Revel's End, and that's reserved for those who have committed serious crimes against the Lords' Alliance, not random duergar spies."
That didn't leave a lot of options. "You think they are going to burn him?"
Zariel shook her head. "I don't know, but I fear they will. I understand that releasing him could be a problem, but that seems preferable. Nothing he's done warrants execution."
Pariah wasn't happy with that, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She said, "What about the ferry?"
"They are going to send a squad to investigate. I asked if we could come along and she reluctantly agreed, but she's going to give us time to secure this body and have supper first. They will meet us at the White Lady Inn."
"Is that where we're going now? To do something with the body?"
Zariel looked down at the corpse illuminated by Pariah's glowing shield. "I asked if there were any priests in town. She said there is a shrine to Silvanus outside the city, but they aren't friendly to the townspeople and would likely resent us bringing a corpse into their midst. Instead we are going to the priest of Tempus who lives here. He might agree to secure the corpse, but she wasn't sure."
"And if he won't?"
Zariel shook her head. "We might have to set up our own guard rotation somewhere."
It didn't take long to make their way through the streets to their destination. The temple design stood out from the surrounding buildings and was a strange clash of styles. It had the simple, brutal lines of a barracks or keep made of stone that towered over the surrounding buildings. However it also had an artistic, trapezoidal cube shape that was narrower at the top, with three tall windows of purple glass in each wall. The steps out front had been swept clean of the snow, and led up to a wide stone patio and an arched wooden double door, each portal carved with the upright flaming sword symbol of Tempus, the god of war.
Zariel said, "If you can stay with the body again-"
"Hey, I pulled body duty once already," Pariah interjected.
The other woman seemed surprised at her objection, which to be fair had come out more harshly than Pariah had intended. Bjarnson said, "That's all right. I'll stay."
"Thanks," Pariah said. "And someone should stay with you. It's kind of creepy watching the body alone."
"Fine, I'll stay," Eberic sighed.
"Me too, I guess," said Lulu. "I can call you if anything happens."
Zariel led the way up the steps to the main door, with Pariah and Dejen close behind. They entered and found the temple was a single room, dimly lit by six massive torches on the side walls, and a burning brazier at the far end. Looming over the brazier was a stone statue nearly twenty feet tall that depicted an armored warrior wielding a flaming sword and standing on the backs of two charging horses. Below each of the torches on the sides of the room was a bronze plaque, and each was inscribed with a picture of a weapon, shield or helmet, with writing beneath the images. The nearest plaque Pariah could see depicted a warhammer that was apparently called Bonecracker. The writing beneath the name was too hard to read at this distance; she assumed it was a description of the history of the weapon.
An armored man stood before the statue, gazing up at it, and he turned as they entered. He was probably in his late fifties with a long braid that used to be black but was mostly gray, and a hairline that was retreating across his scalp. He wore chainmail, though his arms and hands were bare, and he had a greataxe in a sheath on his back. His arms were covered in ritual tattoos, and his fingers were thick and scarred. He was clean shaven, with more tattoos on his neck and chin. He was burly, though with a hint of middle-aged spread around his middle, but his broad shoulders and rolling muscles made it clear he was still fighting fit.
"Welcome," he grunted. "I'm Stalwart Rohl Melancon. Have you warriors come to pay your respects to the mighty Tempus?"
Zariel stepped forward immediately. "We have. I am a warrior of Lathander first and foremost, but I have felt the blessing of Tempus on the battlefield." She drew her sword and held it upright before her as she bowed her head to the statue.
She started to sheathe her weapon, but the man stepped forward and held out his hand. "May I?" he asked. She hesitated, but handed over her longsword.
Rohl studied the blade with a critical eye. It wasn't glowing at the moment, but it was obviously made of quality metal. He held it out at arms length and closed one eye as he looked along its edge. He swung it experimentally a couple of times before handing it back. "Excellent weapon," he admitted.
"Thank you," Zariel said as she sheathed it. "It carries the blessing of Lathander."
Her cloak was open, and Rohl ran his eyes down her body. He reached out, grabbed her biceps and squeezed. She grunted in pain. In response to his inquisitive look, she said, "I have a crag cat bite that is still healing. What are you doing?"
He removed his hands and continued to inspect her. "All warriors are welcome here, but true warriors will be blessed by Tempus."
"True warriors?" she asked.
"Real fighters, not kids playing dress up with daddy's money." He frowned at her. "Your armor seems awfully pristine."
She was thunderstruck by the comment, unsure how to answer, but managed to say, "Our companion is able to fix damage," as she waved vaguely at Dejen.
The priest glanced over at him and his brow furrowed. "What...what is he doing?" he asked in bewilderment.
Pariah had been watching the exchange between Zariel and the priest, and now she turned towards where Rohl was looking. Dejen was standing by one of the bronze plaques, reading it and scribbling in the air with his pen. She turned back and said, "He has a magic quill that doesn't require ink or paper."
"Really," the priest snorted. He turned his gaze on her. He walked up to her and asked, almost as though talking to himself, "Are you a true warrior?"
She pursed her lips. "When I need to be." She wasn't really in the mood for this macho posturing and wanted to get to the point of why they were here.
Before she could speak, he asked, "Where have you fought?"
"To Hell and back," she said dryly.
He grunted, unimpressed. He reached out and grabbed her sword, drawing it from the sheath before she could react. He gave it the same inspection as Zariel's but was clearly less impressed. "Adequate," he said with a sour expression. He handed it back and, as she took it, his gaze locked on her hands. After she'd sheathed her sword, he grabbed her wrist and brought her hand up to inspect it. Pariah tried to pull away but his grip was like iron. She had an unpleasant flashback to Mad Maggie asking if she could have a nibble of tiefling flesh.
"Let go," she said sharply.
He did so, though she didn't get the impression it was because of what she said. He looked at her other hand, though didn't grab it, and then looked towards her neck. He reached out and pulled down the collar of her leather jerkin, enough to reveal the scar tissue at her neck. She slapped his hand away and said, "Enough!"
Rohl didn't respond to her action, though he did withdraw his hand. He gazed into her eyes and mused, "You've definitely seen some kind of battle."
"My fair share. Can we get to the reason we are here?"
The priest's eyes wandered towards Dejen. "And that one? He doesn't seem to have a weapon. More of a scholar, I guess?"
She sighed, annoyed by his narrow analysis of them. "He has a crossbow that shoots fire."
Rohl's face lit up and he grinned. "Really? Ala would love to see that!"
Pariah was taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Who's Ala?"
"She's a deacon of Gond who shares the temple space sometimes." He waved towards a back corner of the temple and Pariah saw a small shrine bearing the gear symbol of Gond. She hadn't even noticed it among the other decorations. Rohl went on to say, "She spends most of her time at the armory designing weapons, though."
Zariel interjected, "We've come because we would like to request a favor from this temple. Have you heard about the Coldheart Killer?"
"I have," he said.
"We have found him and killed him, and are transporting his body back to the sheriff in Bryn Shander. However his corpse is behaving oddly, and I'm concerned he might rise. We are trying to find a place to secure the body for the night, and a temple seems like the best option."
"Behaving oddly?" he asked. "How?"
"A layer of ice has formed around the corpse and, when we tried to burn it, fire would not touch it. He is blessed by Auril, and we fear she might be intervening." She hesitated before adding, "I am unsure of Tempus's position on Auril's recent actions."
He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to face the statue of Tempus. He walked towards it, his hands behind his back, and stood beneath it looking up. Without turning, he said, "Tempus sees glory in battle, but that doesn't mean he recklessly chooses to fight or make enemies. In fact it was he who counseled Uthgar against declaring war against Auril when she stole away many of his warriors among the Uthgardt peoples."
Zariel frowned at his back. "I know that he does not object to undead."
"Any warrior raised to fight again deserves the glory of battle," he replied.
Zariel's frowned deepened, and she said, "So you will not help us?"
Rohl was silent for a time, but then replied, "I didn't say that." He turned back to face them. "You beat this man fairly on the battlefield like a true warrior?"
Zariel straightened up and said, "We did."
His eyes darted over to Dejen, who was ignoring the conversation as he went from plaque to plaque. "All of you?"
Pariah said firmly, "All of us. And there are three more of us outside. He was a powerful opponent."
The priest looked her over, his eyes again lingering on her scarred hands. He turned back to look up at Tempus. "Very well. We will keep him here for one night, but one of you must stand vigil."
"I will," Zariel said quickly.
"How about if we take shifts?" Pariah suggested.
"That will be acceptable," the priest replied. "Where is the body now?"
"Outside," Pariah said, and she headed for the doors. She opened one and called out, "OK, bring it inside."
Bjarnson and Eberic cast an uncomfortable look at the ice-bound corpse before the former unstrapped it from the sled. They bent down, one at each end, and picked up the body to carry it inside the temple. Lulu flew in ahead of them and hovered just inside the doorway, looking around the space.
"Put it there," Rohl said, pointing at a spot right in front of the statues of Tempus's horses.
As the men crossed the temple floor with their burden, Zariel said, "Are you sure? That won't desecrate the space?"
"Tempus fears no corpse," the priest replied. "And if he extends his protection, we might as well put the source of danger close to him." He looked towards the door. "You said there were three more warriors outside."
Pariah said nothing, just pointed up at Lulu. Rohl looked up at the little angel skeptically, and then back at her. Pariah said, "Don't let her size fool you. I've seen her take on pit fiends and hezrou demons."
Lulu crowed, "And I flipped that war machine."
Pariah couldn't help but chuckle as she remembered. "And you flipped that war machine." She saw Rohl giving her a puzzled look, so she explained, "Battle vehicles in Hell that run on the power of mortal souls," as though that explained everything.
Rohl looked mystified. As Bjarnson laid down the body, he said, "Every time I think we know all the exciting stories from your past, you casually drop another."
Pariah laughed, embarrassed. "The point is," she said to Rohl, "Lulu is as much a true warrior as anyone in this room."
The priest looked up at the asteri and gave an approving nod.
Pariah said to Zariel, "So you'll take the first shift?" The other woman nodded, so the tiefling continued, "Then we'll head over to the White Lady Inn, get our rooms and some supper. Then I guess we'll head to the ferry with the guard and root out the duergar, then one of us will come relieve you in a couple of hours."
"Very well," Zariel said. "Be careful."
"You too," Pariah smiled at her.
"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed as she looked over the empty cabin in the aft section of the ferry.
Bjarnson had seen no footprints in the snow outside, but the wind erased tracks within hours so that didn't mean much. However, the boat showed definite signs of former habitation -- food scraps on the lower deck, and ice chipped away from doors -- but there was no sign of the occupants now.
The group was accompanied by four city guard, including a skinny human named Lieutenant Bozetsk. He wore a black helmet inscribed with magical symbols. Pariah knew enough about arcane symbols to realize these were gibberish; she guessed some charlatan had told him it was magic.
They had searched the interior of the craft carefully, arms out to intercept any invisible dwarves who might be hiding in the corners. After finding the place clear, they had searched for any clues and found nothing other than a finger-sized shard of black chardalyn that had slipped under a built-in cabinet.
The lieutenant had confiscated the chardalyn, carefully wrapping it in a cloth without touching it. "We'll secure it with the rest," he explained.
"The rest?" Pariah asked. "You have more?"
He paused as the expression on his face hinted he had said too much. "We make a point of securing dangerous magical materials until they can be disposed of safely."
"Is that a yes?" she pressed.
He pursed his lips. "The duergar might come back," he said, changing the subject. "We'll instruct patrols to check out the ferry, and we'll question Scython." In response to Pariah's raised eyebrows, he explained, "The ferry owner. With his livelihood iced in, he's declared that he's retired until spring comes back."
"You think he knew about the duergar?" she asked suspiciously.
The lieutenant smirked. "Not even a little. We'll talk to him anyhow, ask if he noticed anything, but if he'd known about them, then he'd have been the first one here to chase them out with an axe and a belaying pin."
Eberic said, "And if they just moved into one of the empty houses?"
He shrugged. "There isn't much we can do. We check out the empty buildings now and then, but not every day. Now that we know duergar are in the area, we can be on the lookout."
Pariah said, "They are collecting chardalyn. If you do have a stash locked up, they are going to be after it."
He looked out the cabin window, a thoughtful frown on his face. "I'll tell the captain. Let her decide what to do." His frown deepened and he mumbled, "I wonder if they are..."
Pariah waited but he didn't continue. "Are what?" she prompted.
The lieutenant turned to face her. "You say they are after chardalyn? Anything else?"
She shrugged. "We aren't sure of all of their plans. They are collecting chardalyn for a weapon, but they may be doing other things as well."
He looked off thoughtfully, still silent, and again she prompted him, "What?"
"It's probably unrelated," he said with a dismissive wave of his had. "We've had several fisherman disappear lately. It happens now and then; fishing can be dangerous, especially in this winter. But it's happened more than normal over the last month or two."
Pariah remembered the cultist in Caer-Dineval telling her about his fishing accident, and how that had attracted Levistus's attention. She opened her mouth to tell him, but couldn't speak. She shut her mouth again. She huffed in annoyance and then said, "Maybe something else evil is snatching them up."
"Maybe," he said slowly. "I can't think why the duergar would want prisoners." He eyed the group critically. "We can't spare the soldiers to go out and look for them. The captain has talked about raising a bounty for their safe return, or at least news of what happened with them. If you're looking for work, that is."
"Not at the moment," Pariah said. "I mean maybe in a couple of days, but we need to get back to Bryn Shander tomorrow."
"Fair enough. Well, I'll report back to the captain. Have a good evening."
Notes:
In a previous chapter, where we met the wizard who was burned at the stake, I implied that there was only one prison cell here. Reading further in the section on Easthaven, I realized that there is a cluster of several cells in the basement of the town hall. I've moved that mini-dungeon to below the barracks, which is my own creation. However, it now feels silly that the larger town of Bryn Shander apparently has only one prison cell. I know nobody cares, and readers wouldn't have even noticed if I wasn't shining a light on it, but it irks me a bit. I may or may not retcon a larger cell block in Bryn Shander; it depends on whether it comes up again.
I tried to figure out which gods would be worshipped here in Easthaven. The only thing I found was the Temple of Tempus from the Icewind Dale computer games, which took place about 200 years before this. The temple, along with much of the town, was destroyed in the first game and then rebuilt. Since canon says the temple artifacts were moved out of Icewind Dale after this, I'm assuming there is a much smaller presence here. The inside of the temple was based on pictures from the game, but scaled to be about half the size and without the historic weapons and armor that used to be displayed there.
I added the minor priest of Gond, since Tempus likes Gond for the war machines he builds, and I added the link to the armory just for the heck of it. The armory, Rurden's, is from Legacy of the Crystal Shard.
The PCs are actually supposed to find duergar at the ferry. However, I moved them since I have other plans for them.
Chapter 43: A Cold Light in the Darkness
Summary:
The group embarks on the final leg of their journey back to Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
The wind had picked up shortly after they left Easthaven. By the time they reached the crossroads where Trovus turned off towards Caer-Konig, his sled team pulling two sleds in tandem, it had evolved into a full blizzard. They had decided to push on. Even with the weather, the trip that had taken them two days going out would take only three hours with sleds.
It was good that the trip was going to be short, because they had gotten off to a late start for a number of reasons. After the visit to the ferry, the group had taken Trovus up on his invitation to the Wet Trout, intending to stay for only one or two drinks. However the jovial dragonborn kept ordering round after round, and soon they had all been fairly deep in their cups. That, combined with the nearly constant dark, had made it easy to sleep in, and the dim daylight had been filtering through the small windows in their rooms by the time they were all awake.
Bjarnson had wanted to visit Skin & Bones to sell the crag cat skin they were still carrying. They had visited Captain Arlaggath to ask her about the town's chardalyn storage. She had been cagey about details, at least until they got to the point of their visit: what to do with the shards they had found in the duergar outpost. She had breathed a sigh of relief and said they only cared about locking away black ice until they could figure out how to either drain the evil or dispose of it permanently. Dejen had suggested dropping it in the deepest part of Lac Dinneshere, but she said that didn't work. The largest piece of black ice they had was the ram from a pirate ship that had plagued the lake ten years back. It had been pulled up by adventurers a few months ago, who had brought it in hoping for a reward. Black ice wanted to be found. She admitted that Speaker Galbek Atteberry had offered clemency to the wizard who had been burned at the stake if he could somehow disenchant the black ice, but he had refused.
However, she assured them that clear or white chardalyn was completely safe, and Rurden, the local blacksmith, was willing to buy any that people found. The dwarven smith had examined the crystal shards closely for any hint of black before declaring them clean and offering to buy them. A little haggling later, and they were a bit richer.
That was handy because the second sled and team of six dogs they'd bought used up nearly all of their combined wealth. Pariah had watched the transaction with amusement. Somehow over the last few days they had become a team, even if just temporarily. Not all of them had the same number of coins in their pouches, but they donated all they had just the same. Bjarnson had also suggested three tents, which would make better shelters if they had to camp in the wilderness, which they were likely to do if they ended up on a duergar hunt.
Finally, Dejen had written a brief report of the duergar occupation of the dwarven outpost. Trovus promised he'd deliver it personally to Dwarven Valley so their patrols could check that base as well as any other abandoned facilities in the area to root out the intruders.
With all that, the light was fading by the time they finally left town. The magical lights provided by Zariel and Lulu, as well as the lantern that Dejen never liked to extinguish, provided enough light to travel at the beginning of their journey, though they kept the dogs at a walk since they still couldn't see very far in front of them. Once the storm gathered, though, the lights were less helpful.
However, the Eastway was well marked and straight, so they were able to navigate without too much fear of getting lost in the blizzard. Bjarnson and Eberic were driving the sleds since they were the only ones with significant experience. Bjarnson's sled was in front, Pariah sitting on her pack in the rear, watching the frozen corpse strapped down between them. Behind came the second sled carrying Eberic, Zariel and Dejen. They followed close, but Pariah still lost sight of them now and then as the wind filled the air with flurries. Sometimes all she could see was the glow Zariel had placed on the front of the sled; sometimes she couldn't even see that. However, there wasn't much they could do, so they continued on, driving directly into the teeth of the wind.
Pariah had been here only a tenday, and wasn't an expert about the weather, but something about this storm felt unnatural to her. It wasn't just that it was intense and isolating; it was cold on a level beyond what she'd felt so far. The wind found its way into her furs no matter how tightly she drew them about her, and she felt her teeth chattering and her extremities growing numb. But that wasn't the worst of it.
The worst of it was the voice.
She was deafened by the terrifying shriek of the wind, and that made her shiver even more than the cold did. However, just beneath the scream of the storm, just out of hearing, she would swear she could hear a voice. She couldn't tell what it was saying, but she could almost make it out. It rose and fell like someone speaking, someone whispering on the edge of her perception. She knew it was her imagination and she tried to laugh it off, but it worked its way into the core of her brain, the primitive animal nature inside everyone as they huddled around the fire listening to monsters in the dark. She found herself straining to hear, trying to make sense of the words that she knew were just her mind playing a trick on her.
And then, as Pariah again looked behind them to track the other sled, the voice became clear. It was a woman, her tone simultaneously devoid of emotion and filled with fury. The voice hissed into her mind, "This is the doom that awaits you all. This is the fate of any who dare to claim what is mine. Behold the final light."
Pariah froze, but before she could even think about what she had just heard, an intense brightness bloomed from the middle of the sled. She turned back forward to see a blinding white light bursting forth from the face of the frozen corpse. The light shone straight up into the dark sky, and yet it was still bright enough to make her squint. The ice entombing the body cracked and pieces started to fly off of it; two of the shards hovered in mid air and formed into crude, humanoid figures smaller than Lulu.
And then the corpse turned to look at her, and the brilliant light blinded her.
She lurched to her feet, yelling a warning that was swallowed by the roar of the storm. She groped for her shield and found it as she felt the sled stop. Icy air blasted over her, colder and more focused than the wind of the storm, and she felt it sucking the warmth from her. She belatedly lifted her shield to block it. Rather than drawing her sword, she reached into her pouch to touch the chardalyn there and infuse her armor with ice. The cold might not hurt these attackers, but the spell would offer her a little extra protection.
The dazzling of her vision faded, though it left the world with a greenish tint. Their sled had stopped and the other had pulled up next to them. One of the ice creatures was hovering over their dog team; she couldn't see the other one at the moment. The corpse of Sephek Kaltro was on his feet, still sheathed in ice that cracked as he moved, his face replaced by a pool of intense spectral light. He turned to face her and she raised her shield to block the light, but that left her open to a powerful punch in her stomach that doubled her over in pain.
Bjarnson loomed up behind the corpse. He raised a hand and it changed into the massive paw of a polar bear. He slashed down across Kaltro's back, though the claws seemed to just scrape along the layer of ice and do little damage. His arm transitioned back after the blow. However this meant he turned his back on the ice creature, which harried him with its own, much smaller claws.
Pariah took a blow on her shield as she struggled to draw her blade, still disoriented by her fading blindness and the intensity of the storm. She caught movement to her right and saw Eberic rushing forward through the snow as best he could without snowshoes. His hood had blown back and his face was twisted with fury as he glared at Kaltro. The undead ignored him, which allowed Eberic to plant his feet and carefully stab forward with the dagger of ice he had gotten from Kaltro. Pariah was afraid Kaltro would be immune, but the creature recoiled as the blade punched through the ice and sunk deeply into his flesh, causing him to whirl on his attacker. The dwarf yelled and winced as he was blinded by the intense light of the thing's face.
Pariah had gotten her saber out and took the opportunity to pull all the cold she could into her sword. It shimmered as white frost appeared along it. Again, she didn't think the cold would hurt this thing, but she was surprised when the rime that coated her blade penetrated into the wound she cut in Sephek's side, and again he recoiled from an injury. Zariel came up beside Pariah, struggling through the snow as Eberic had. The tiefling finally realized the green glow that bathed the battle wasn't from being blinded by the zombie's light. It was coming from Dejen's lantern, which hung awkwardly from his wrist as he scribbled in the air over his crossbow and sent a burst of flame at the undead creature.
Sephek flexed his arms and two more chunks of ice broke off and turned into creatures floating on either side of him. They both turned and breathed out a storm of freezing cold over Zariel and Pariah. Zariel got her shield up so was protected from some of it, but Pariah was moving too slowly so took the brunt of both blasts. She and Zariel pressed the attack, trying to pull the zombie's attention off of Eberic as he stumbled back, still blinded, and between the intense cold infusing Pariah's weapon and the holy energy infusing Zariel's, they managed to slash and hack until Sephek died for the second time. The brilliant light faded, leaving behind his normal face distorted only by the natural rot of death.
That left the three ice creatures; she didn't know where the fourth was. Bjarnson had shifted into the form of a sled dog and all three were tearing at him. Zariel rushed forward and smashed one of them with her longsword. It burst into an explosion of crystal shards. Pariah hadn't been expecting that so hadn't had her shield up. She felt sharp edges tear across her cheek.
The group made short work of the remaining ice creatures. Dejen managed to kill one with his fire bolt, and Eberic the other with his dagger. Each time one died, it burst into razor-sharp splinters of ice that were difficult to defend against. As the last one burst, the green light from Dejen's lantern shifted back to yellow.
Pariah stood there, panting, looking out into the storm to be sure there were no other attackers. Since the fourth ice creature had never appeared, she assumed it must have been killed when she was blinded. Zariel stood over Sephek's body, staring down at him with a look of fury on her face, her weapon still bare. Pariah saw that her dagger still stuck out from Sephek's heart; apparently that worked only against merregons, not undead. Her abdomen ached from the blow she had gotten and she sat down heavily on her pack at the back of the sled.
Zariel looked around and spotted an outcropping of rock. She turned to Bjarnson, who had turned back into human form, and pointed to the rock while saying something Pariah couldn't hear over the wind. The man looked at Sephek's body, then the rock, then the body. He replied, motioning to the dogs, and then called over Eberic. Zariel said something to the dwarf and, after doing the same rock-body-rock look that Bjarnson had done, he grabbed Sephek by the shoulders as Zariel took the corpse's feet.
Bjarnson went to check on the dogs. Their own team had been near the exploding ice creatures and Pariah could see dots of blood against their light colored fur. Pariah went to join, both to help him examine the animals and to ask a question. She pointed towards where Zariel and Bjarnson were laying Sephek face down, his head and shoulders on the small rocky outcropping. "What's that about?" she yelled over the wind.
He didn't take his attention off the dogs as he shouted back, "She said blessings weren’t helping. She's going to prevent him from rising again."
Zariel raised her sword and brought it down on Sephek's neck. The blade bit deep but was stopped by his spine. She raised her weapon and hacked at him again. It took four powerful blows before his head came off. She had a brief discussion with Eberic, after which the dwarf took the head and started back towards the other sled. Zariel dragged the body by the ankle back to their own sled, leaving a red streak in the snow.
Zariel and Eberic wrapped up the body parts, Pariah and Bjarnson examined the sled dogs for injuries, and Dejen sat on his pack looking lost. He didn't seem to be injured, just unsure of what to do. The storm abated rapidly and, though the wind still blew hard, it wasn't the blizzard it had been and they no longer had to shout to be heard.
Zariel came over to join Pariah and Bjarnson. She was still radiating a simmering anger. She asked, "How badly hurt are they? Can they still pull the sled? I would rather get this body to Bryn Shander in the hopes that Mishann and I can lay him to rest permanently."
Bjarnson ruffled the fur of the dog in front of him. The animals were in good spirits, maybe a bit scared but surprisingly resilient considering what had just happened. "These two," he indicated the two dogs at the back of the team, "took the worst of it. They both have fairly serious puncture wounds from the ice shards. The other four took injuries as well, but aren't so bad."
It wasn't that long ago that Pariah had walked for half a day on an injured leg, and she said, "So we should stop?"
Bjarnson looked down the road in the direction of Bryn Shander. "We're only about an hour out, and I agree that we should get the body somewhere safe." He looked back at the dogs with concern. "If it were an emergency, I'd say go. I'm just not sure this qualifies as an emergency though. I hate to drive them on if they are hurt."
"We could ask them," Pariah offered, wanting to use her new talent to talk to animals.
Bjarnson grinned at her. "That we could, but I had a different idea." To Zariel he said, "I think we should use our healing magic on the dogs rather than the people. They are going to do the real work. We can all rest from our injuries once we get to town."
Zariel nodded. "Agreed."
He looked over the group. "So how is everyone?" He eyed Zariel and said, "You don't look so good."
Pariah looked at her in surprise and realized the warrior was pale and her hands were shaking slightly. There was blood on Zariel's left biceps near the elbow.
Zariel waved him off. "I will be fine."
Bjarnson frowned at her but didn't pursue the subject. To Pariah he said, "And you are moving like you are favoring an injury."
She couldn't help but chuckle, and then groaned as that made her muscles hurt. "I took a pretty bad punch to the gut. I don't think it ruptured anything, but it hurts to laugh. But you're one to talk." He had a few claw marks that had torn the leather, though there wasn't much in the way of blood.
"Well, let's just say I'll be happy to rest tonight," he grinned at her. He looked over at the other two. "They don't seem badly hurt, so that's good."
Pariah looked around and realized she couldn't see Lulu, and Zariel's cloak was open so the asteri wasn't hiding in there. "Where's Lulu?" she asked, surprised at the edge of panic in her voice.
"I sent her home," Zariel said. "The icy breath of those creatures hurt her quite badly. She'll rest back in Mount Celestia and I'll recall her in the morning."
"Oh. Good," Pariah said in relief. She reminded herself that extraplanar beings couldn't die here, but that didn't mean she wanted to see Lulu come to any harm.
While Bjarnson and Zariel set about using their healing magic on the sled dogs, Pariah struggled through the snow to check in with Dejen and Eberic. The latter had a gash across his chin from an exploding ice creature, but Dejen was unharmed.
"I believe those were mephits," he said. "I was quite excited when my lantern started to glow green, as I still hope to find more chwingas, but apparently the mephits set them off. They come in a variety of elemental types; these were obviously ice mephits."
Pariah looked over at the headless body on the other sled. "So Auril both revived him and called up ice elementals? Somehow I'm not happy that we've drawn her attention like that."
Dejen said softly, "So you heard the voice, too?"
Pariah nodded. "Yeah, something about doom."
Eberic added, "And the final light."
"That too," she agreed.
Dejen said gloomily, "It was surprisingly terrifying having an immortal speaking directly in my mind."
"And it never gets any less awful," Pariah said. Speaking of devils reminded her of something. "Didn't the furrier's husband say these things steal souls?"
The dwarf grunted in derision. "He ranted about a lot of things. But, yeah, I guess this was one of those glowing undead he was talking about, though I'm pretty sure no wizards were involved in creating it." He frowned at her and asked, "How would we know if our souls were stolen?"
She shrugged, "I think we wouldn't still be walking around if that happened." Zariel and Bjarnson seemed to be finishing with the dogs. She added, "Well, let's get this thing to Bryn Shander and hope that Mishann can find a way to put him down for good."
Notes:
Story time. I used to do field work, and I always chose the graveyard shift because I didn't mind it and other people did. There was one project where I was out in the desert, dozens of miles from anyone else. The pad was lit by floodlights, but you couldn't see at all outside the circle of light. We had a generator, and the sound of the generator bounced off this line of hills to one side. The sound that echoed back was EXACTLY like a crowd of people whispering in the darkness. Spooky as hell. I tried to draw on that a little when describing Pariah's experience in the storm.
The creature is a coldlight walker, a monster unique to the module. The minions were ice mephits. The line "This is the doom that awaits you all. This is the fate of any who dare to claim what is mine. Behold the final light." is from the module.
I added the coldlight walker's ability to summon ice mephits with an action so I could scale the battle. The first round went very badly for the players and I figured they were all going to die; then the second round went very badly for Sephek so I had him summon more.
I hadn't originally intended for Sephek to rise, but I kept hinting at it in the story so I figured I'd better do something now that I'd foreshadowed it so much.
Chapter 44: Dusk in Bryn Shander
Summary:
The group returns to Bryn Shander in the company of the decapitated corpse of Sephek Kaltro.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
As they approached Bryn Shander, Bjarnson turned off from the East Gate to circle around the city walls to the Southwest Gate, the one that Pariah and Zariel had entered for the first time a tenday before. The reason was that the kennel was here, against the wall inside the gate.
The kennel had been a horse stable once. The stable was built against the outer wall, stretching about three times as wide and twice as deep as the houses in the area. There was a large double door at the far end and a smaller door nearby; a sign above the latter read, "Enter Here".
They stopped in the street to unload the sleds. They put on their backpacks and then stood around the headless body of Sephek Kaltro, currently covered with a blanket. Thankfully, the gate guards hadn't searched the sled, and the travelers were out of sight of the gate now. "How are we going to transport this?" Pariah asked.
"Wrap it up?" Eberic suggested. "Then get it to the sheriff before the guards arrest us for carrying a corpse."
"No," Zariel said emphatically. "We need to go to the House of the Morninglord first. I fear that, despite the beheading, the body might rise again. Mishann may have blessings that can lay him to rest, or she may have ideas about how to dispose of the remains so he cannot rise."
"It took a few days last time," Pariah ruminated, "so I think we have time to figure it out. But that's a good point. Mishann can advise us and the sheriff how to handle the body." She looked around the streets. "I still don't know this city. How do we get there?"
Bjarnson pointed up the main street. "That way to the town square, then right to take the street towards the East Gate."
Pariah looked down the dark street. The sun had set and the nearly full moon hadn't risen yet, so the town was lit only by the occasional oil lamp. "The town square is where the sheriff's office is, right? Maybe we should avoid that while carrying a body."
"True," Bjarnson nodded. "We can stick to the smaller streets and work our way over there."
She said, "Why don't the rest of you wrap the body and get started towards the temple while I talk to the kennel master about boarding the dogs. I'll catch up when I'm done."
"You can find your way?" Bjarnson asked.
"I'll manage," she shrugged. "Honestly, I've spent the last three hours sitting by the body. I just want a few minutes away from it. Yell if it comes back to life."
"Fair enough," Bjarnson grinned. He pointed in a direction right of the main street . "The temple is pretty much a straight line that way, and you can always ask someone if you get lost."
Dejen piped up, "I'll stay with you." He grinned sheepishly. "I wouldn't mind being away from the body for a bit as well."
The others rolled the stiff corpse off the sled and onto a blanket. As they started bundling it up, Pariah went in through the smaller door with Dejen close behind. It led to a small office separated by half-height walls from the rest of the barn. A wide path led between rows of horse stalls and she could see over a dozen dogs with probably more inside the stalls. The pack looked up with interest as they entered, and a couple trotted over to the half-wall to sniff the air and watch them curiously.
Pariah was surprised to see a familiar man in the office. He had close-cropped black hair, rosy cheeks, a warm smile and hard eyes. It took her a moment to remember that he was the furrier's husband. What was his name? "Lonnor!" She called out with a bright smile.
He gave her a slightly confused smile in return. "Oh, hello. You are the people with the angel. Um..."
"Pariah," she said. She motioned to her companion to add, "And Dejen. We need to board twelve dogs and two sleds." She furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure for how long. Maybe just a night or two."
"Sure thing," he said "One shard per dog per day. No extra charge for the sleds unless they need repairs."
"No, I think they are fine," she said as she fished coins out of her pouch. "I'll pay for one day for now."
"All right, bring your sleds around to the main door. Wait for us to open it. We need to be sure the other dogs aren't going to run out."
The pair went back out to find that the others had finished wrapping up the body. To Pariah it still looked like a corpse, but bodies weren't necessarily a rarity in a harsh environment. She hoped they wouldn’t be stopped. As she and Dejen mounted the sleds, Bjarnson and Zariel each took one end of the blanket-wrapped bundle, while Eberic carried the wrapped head under one arm. They started down the street, and the two sleds headed towards the main doors.
They didn't have to wait long before the main doors were opened by Lonnor and a teenage human girl wearing a fur cloak that had been unevenly dyed blue. Lonnor waved them into a fenced off area within the barn. More dogs had appeared standing outside the fence to bark at the newcomers.
After they closed the main doors, Lonnor and the girl helped Pariah unharness the dogs and bring them inside the main kennel. Pariah had been worried that it would be hard to pick their dogs out of such a large pack, but even as the animals started to mill about, their two teams stood out to her. She saw another worker inside, but that seemed like a lot of dogs for so few people.
She turned around and was surprised that she didn't see Dejen. "Did you see where my friend went?" she asked.
Lonnor waved towards the main door, "He went back outside. I think the noise of the dogs was getting to him."
She nodded. "All right. Well, one of us will come back tomorrow and either take the dogs or pay for another night. We're still working out our plans."
"We'll be here. Please go out through the office," he said, pointing in that direction. She followed him through the small gate there and gave him a nod before heading outside through the smaller office door. She closed the door quietly behind her and looked around but Dejen wasn't in the immediate area. She walked towards one corner of the building, figuring he had ducked around there to get out of the wind.
She naturally walked quietly. It was a habit she'd picked up through years of living in the Outer City; it was often a good idea not to be noticed by both thugs and city guards. As she got close to the corner, she heard Dejen's voice. He was saying, "Arrived Bryn Shander just now. Sephek rose undead. We killed him. Taking body to Mishann for final rest. Meet tonight, usual place."
Pariah stopped, her brow furrowing. She continued to listen and heard him mumble, "Oh no," but nothing else. She wondered if he'd caught her listening, but he didn't come around to confront her. She carefully padded back to the kennel door, opened it slightly, and then closed it hard. She stomped over towards the corner, and Dejen came out to greet her, stuffing a stone into his belt pouch.
"Done?" he asked, radiating innocence.
"Done," she replied, pointedly not looking down even as she wondered what he had just hidden away. "Lets catch up with the others."
The two of them walked quickly and, even navigating the maze of streets, were able to catch up to the rest of the group a few blocks before they reached the temple. "All done," she said. "I only paid for one day since I’m not sure of our plans."
Eberic said, "Back to Easthaven, I say. Find the rest of the duergar there."
Zariel said, "I believe there was concern they might have abducted some of the townspeople, so I agree that would be a priority. We can-"
She broke off as Bjarnson stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, forcing her to stop as well since they were carrying the body together. He was staring at the building ahead.
Pariah looked in the same direction and felt a lump form in the pit of her stomach. The House of the Morninglord was just down the road. The windows were shattered. The shutters and door had been torn off. Even from here, she could see the light of the streetlamp shining off a layer of ice coating the building. The inside of the house was dark.
Zariel dropped her end of Sephek's corpse and shrugged out of her pack. She rushed forward, her shield at the ready and her drawn sword illuminating the area in a blue light. "Mishann!" she called out.
Pariah was stunned by what she saw but forced herself into action. She also dropped her pack and slipped an arm into her shield, but kept her sword sheathed as she ran forward.
Zariel was already inside. "Mishann!" she called out again as the others joined her.
The inside was mostly barren and covered in ice. The chairs and altar were gone. The twelve-pointed symbol of Amaunator still hung on the wall but it was cracked and scratched. The stove had been knocked over and lay in a small pool of oil. The curtain to the next room had been torn down. No priests or cats could be seen.
Pariah was about to suggest searching the place when the door upstairs opened and light spilled out onto the stairway. "Hello?" a voice called, but not Mishann's. "I'm coming down."
A figure that looked like a large, fuzzy teddy bear holding an oil lamp appeared on the landing above and started down the stairs. He reached the bottom and the light revealed the face of a gnome with a drooping mustache.
"Copper, what happened here?" Zariel demanded. "Where is Mishann?"
Tears appeared in his eyes as he struggled to speak. "I'm sorry," he said in a pained voice. "I'm afraid the temple was attacked a couple of nights ago. They killed Mishann."
"What?!" Zariel roared. "That's outrageous!"
A sudden bright light filled the room. Pariah turned and saw it was Zariel. Her face was twisted in terrifying fury. In that moment, Pariah could see the remnants of the devil in her. But divine light shone from her eyes and mouth and skin, growing steadily brighter and filling the room.
Pariah yelled in surprise as the light burned across her skin like a roaring fire. For a split second she wondered if it was her infernal heritage, but the others started to cry out as well. They backed away from Zariel, trying to get away from the burning radiance that surrounded her. At the heart of that brilliance Pariah could still see the face of a fiend.
"Zariel!" Pariah called out but the woman didn't seem to hear her, lost in her rage. "Zariel!" she yelled again to no avail. Lulu, the one person who might have been able to calm her, was still back in the Seven Heavens recovering from her injuries.
Not sure what else to do, Pariah strode into the burning hot light again and slapped the woman hard across the face. "Zariel!" she barked again.
The woman's furious gaze turned on Pariah and, for a moment, she was afraid that the warrior was about to go berserk and attack all of them. However, Zariel's expression was abruptly replaced by one of surprise and then one of shame. She lowered her sword, the light faded, and Zariel fell forward.
Pariah was caught off guard by her collapse, but managed to catch her and lower her to her knees. Zariel was breathing heavily and leaning on Pariah for support. Her skin was red as though she'd gotten a sunburn. "Forgive me," she mumbled.
Pariah held her as they both kneeled on the icy floor of the damaged shrine. She was overwhelmed at that moment and didn't know what to say.
"What was that?" Dejen asked. "That glow?"
Zariel slowly looked up at him. Dully she said, "I'm not sure. This body isn't designed to channel that much divine power."
"This body?" he said softly to himself.
Zariel had looked away and didn't react to his question. Pariah studied her face and said, "I think you need to call Lulu back. If nothing else, she'd want to be here for you."
The other woman looked at her blankly and then nodded. She sat back on her heels, folded her hands and bowed her head. After a few seconds, she looked up and drew a circle in the air. Lulu popped into existence. The little angel looked around in confusion. When she saw Zariel's face, she asked in concern, "What happened?"
Zariel clenched her jaw. "Mishann has been murdered."
"What?" Lulu exclaimed in horror. "That's awful! Zariel, I'm so sorry." She flew over to throw her arms around her friend's neck.
Pariah climbed to her feet. Dejen and Bjarnson were watching them. Eberic was standing at the foot of the stairs speaking quietly to Copper. Pariah said reluctantly, "We should probably go talk to the sheriff."
"Yes," Zariel said sternly as she stood. "I would like to know what, if anything, he has done about this villainy."
Gently, Pariah said, "If you don't mind, I think I should do the talking. He might respond better to a softer touch."
Zariel glowered at her. "Just recently you said we should demand rather than ask when dealing with..." She struggled to speak, and then glanced over at Copper. She finished, "...the authorities at Caer-Dineval."
"That's true," Pariah admitted. "But let's start with asking. Let's at least find out what he knows. I'm no friend of the constables, but I'd prefer not being their enemy."
The other woman made an unsatisfied grunt while Lulu looked on in concern.
Pariah turned to Copper. "We'll let you know if we find anything out. Are you safe here?"
He nodded sadly. "I think so. This was obviously targeted at the temple itself. Plus I wouldn't feel right about just leaving this place. Her son said I can continue to live here. I'll fix the windows and the door and figure out some other use for the space." He turned to gaze at the broken symbol of Amaunator.
"Does her family live here in Bryn Shander?" Zariel asked.
The gnome shook his head. "Her husband passed several years ago. Her son, Jakob, lives in Targos. He arrived today to deal with things."
"Is he staying here?"
"No. He said it would be too difficult. He's at the Northlook."
"I would like to attend her service," Zariel said emphatically.
"He's still arranging that," Copper replied. "There will be a notice posted on the board at the Town Hall."
"Very well." Zariel looked over the room again. "Do you need anything?"
"No, thank you," he said, turning to her with a weak smile.
"Then we will take our leave. I'll come back tomorrow to check in."
They filed out of the shrine into the bitter cold outside while Copper returned to the warmth of his upstairs room. Zariel and Bjarnson retrieved the wrapped corpse and the group started walking down the street towards the town square. After they'd gone about a block, Eberic said, "I asked him if he knew anything and he didn't know much. He was in his room and heard the commotion. He admits that he hid, afraid to confront the attackers. He didn't see them, doesn't even know how many there were. He thought they were just going to trash the place. He had no idea they were going to take things so far."
"After what happened at the House of the Triad?" Zariel demanded. "The coward hid in his room and did nothing while she was being murdered?"
"Hey," Pariah said. "Ease off. Not everyone's a warrior."
"Everyone should be a warrior when justice is on the line," she insisted. "Anyone should be willing to stand up for what's right."
"And die? If they were able to overwhelm her, do you think him running down in his fuzzy suit wielding a broom would have changed anything? We'd just have two dead instead of one."
Zariel snorted and then barked, "Every spineless wretch justifies his weakness with such nonsense. All warriors feel fear; the brave fight anyhow."
Pariah felt a retort climbing towards her lips but bit down on it. This was not a conversation to have in front of the others.
But Zariel wouldn't let it go. "Evil thrives on apathy. Corruption grows when the common people do nothing. Something as simple as a glimpse of their faces would have helped bring the murderers to justice, but instead he hid under his bed, mewling like a child."
"That's enough!" Pariah barked. "Have you learned nothing from your past?"
Zariel stopped and whirled on her, causing Bjarnson to stumble as Sephek's body almost slipped out of his grip. Rather than backing down like she had during the incident with the necromancer, the reminder of her mistakes just seemed in incense Zariel.
"I'm fully aware of the sins of my past, but that doesn't mean I will become a soft coward. We must stand against evil!"
Pariah was trying to control her temper but couldn't keep quiet. "And you are welcome to make that decision about yourself. You don't have the right to make that decision for other people. I saw how your actions affected others. I saw how my friend was devastated by the fallout of the choices you made. I saw-"
Pariah forced herself to stop speaking. She took a breath and growled. "I think maybe this is a conversation that would be better in private. And if you really want someone to be mad at, ask your god why he didn't protect his priest in her own temple."
Zariel glared and then her eyes darted to the rest of the group, who were watching the argument in stunned silence. Her frowned deepened, and then she turned and started walking again, Bjarnson hurrying to keep up with her.
Lulu looked back and forth sadly between the two women and then flew off after Zariel. Pariah pursed her lips and followed.
Notes:
Zariel discovering her Radiant Consumption in a moment of fury was a scene that's lived in my mind from the first time I read that feature. Mishann's murder is something I added so I'd have an appropriate scene for that moment. Of course, now that means I have to add my own murder investigation subplot since I can't imagine they'd just shrug and walk away.
Her son is my own creation, added for a later scene.
And here's another complaint about the lore. Mishann was called Mithann in "Legacy of the Crystal Shard", another WotC adventure. Come on, guys, at least READ the older adventures when writing new ones.
Chapter 45: Mourning in Bryn Shander
Summary:
The party heads to the sheriff's office to turn over the body of Sephek Kaltro, and to ask about Mishann's murder.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
It didn't take them long to make their way through the dark streets to the Town Hall. They traveled in a heavy silence, the others in the party stealing sidelong glances at Pariah and Zariel. Pariah was aware of their gazes and suspected there were going to be some awkward questions in the near future.
Though the trip was short, it gave her a chance to calm herself. As they arrived at the Town Hall, Pariah hurried forward to open the door so Zariel and Bjarnson could carry the body inside. She stopped Zariel and said calmly, "How about if you let me do the talking?"
Zariel glowered at her, and Pariah went on to say, "I want to know what happened to her, too. I think we all do. But going in and yelling at the sheriff isn't going to get us any help. Remember what happened in Easthaven when Eberic accused the captain of corruption?"
The dwarf made a protesting grunt. Zariel pursed her lips but considered Pariah's words. Finally she said, "Very well."
The Town Hall was as dark and empty as it had been on their first visit, with a little furniture pushed off against the walls and three closed doors. Light shone from down the stairs at the back of the building, a short flight of stone steps that led into the cellar that served as the sheriff's office.
The earthen-walled room was as sparsely furnished as the upstairs, containing little more than a desk, chair and stove plus a small cell, currently empty. A bald, dark-skinned man with a graying beard was standing next to the stove talking to a dwarven woman wearing the livery of the town guard. They both looked up as the newcomers came down the stairs.
"Evening, sheriff," Pariah said to the bald man. She waved to the bundle that Zariel and Bjarnson were laying on the ground. "Here is the Coldheart Killer."
Sheriff Markham Southwell and the dwarf guard walked over to stand over the body as Bjarnson pulled back the wrapping. The dwarf made a slight gasp, but Southwell didn't react other than to say, "Where's his head?"
"Here," said Eberic, stepping forward to hand the wrapped bundle to Southwell. The sheriff unwrapped it enough to peek inside, nodded, and then wrapped it again before laying it next to the body. "Sephek Kaltro, am I right?"
"You are," Pariah said.
"And you have proof? You didn't just bring me some body?"
"Yes. We confronted him in Caer-Konig along with Speaker Trovus. Kaltro admitted to being the Coldheart Killer and that he was acting in Auril's name. Trovus wrote a letter of witness to you." She looked towards Dejen, who quickly fished a parchment out of his pack and handed it over to the sheriff.
Southwell moved towards his desk to read the letter in the light of the lamp. As he did he said, "And you decided to lop off his head?"
"We didn't do that at first, but he came back to life on our way back here. We did that hoping it would prevent him from rising again."
Dejen added, "We also tried to burn the body, but it wouldn't burn."
"Great," Southwell sighed as he put the letter on his desk. "And we just lost our last priest so we can't even consecrate the body."
"About that," Pariah said quickly before Zariel could cut in. "We went to the House of the Morninglord first, hoping Mishann could do exactly that. Copper told us what happened. Have you learned anything?"
He sat on the edge of his desk. "Nothing definite. Nothing I can prove."
"It was clearly the Aurilites," Zariel asserted.
Pariah shot her a look, which she ignored. Southwell said, "That seems likely, but that's not proof."
She could sense Zariel's temper rising, so Pariah interjected, "Maybe we could poke around. See what we can find out."
He scowled at her. "I don't need vigilantes making trouble in my town."
"Of course not," she said. "We'd report back to you." She turned and added, "Right?" She said that to everyone, but the comment was pointedly directed at Zariel.
The others nodded agreement, and Zariel said in a slightly offended tone, "Of course. I am the one who has always counseled working with law enforcement rather than striking out on our own." To him she said, "But are you prepared to act on the information we find?"
He scowled at them. "I'll say it again: I don't need amateurs bumbling around a sensitive situation. Stay out if it."
Frustrated, Pariah asked, "Can you at least tell us what you have found out? Both about this and the attack on the House of the Triad?"
The sheriff sighed, "Not much. Footprints in the snow that could belong to anyone. No witnesses, which isn't surprising because the streets are usually pretty empty. Her lodger heard the fight but didn't see anything. Both attacks occurred in the middle of the night when the neighbors were asleep. Mishann did some divination after the first attack but got no clear answers."
"But she got some answers?" Pariah asked. "What did she see?"
He shook his head. "Snow, ice, cold, a hidden figure looming in a storm."
"That sounds like Auril," Zariel said.
"Maybe, but again that's not proof."
"It seems like proof enough for an investigation of their cult," Zariel insisted, her voice getting hard.
Southwell grimaced at her. "It's not that simple. The Aurilites have a lot of power here."
"That doesn't put them above the law," Zariel insisted.
"Of course it does," Pariah said tiredly. "The rich and powerful get away with murder all the time. That's not fair, but it's the way the world works." Maybe it was different on Mount Celestia, but not here in the mortal realm. Of course, she couldn't add that last bit out loud in front of the others.
Not wanting to pursue that line of conversation, she asked Southwell, "Any other evidence pointing at the Aurilites?"
He leaned back and folded his arms as he studied her. "I hear things on the street that lead me to believe they are involved."
That seemed unhelpful, so Pariah asked, "Things like what?"
His expression grew hard. "People talk to me because they know they can trust me. That doesn't mean they will talk to you, and it certainly doesn't mean they will stand up in public and testify. So, no, I'm not going to give you any more detail than that."
"Fair enough," she said in disappointment. She knew he was right. When you and your family are at risk, it's easier to keep your head down and say you saw nothing.
Dejen asked, "I know the evidence points strongly to the Aurilites, but could there be another explanation? Did Mishann have any enemies?"
The sheriff shook his head. "I've looked into that. Every murder victim is surrounded by people who say everybody loved them, but everyone really did like her."
"Everyone?" Pariah asked skeptically. "Even you?"
Southwell looked over in surprise before giving her a sad chuckle. "Did I get mad at her? Sure. She was a pain in my ass. She was angry I didn't give more priority to the incident at the House of the Triad, but I have to consider the entire town not just one tragedy. But she was a good woman who cared about the community, and it's going to be rough for everyone without her. Believe me, nobody wants justice for her more than I do."
"All right, who's the head of the Aurilites? Have you talked to them?"
He looked thoughtful and then said, "The local priest is named Malari Janus. I've interrogated him and he just smarmily evades my questions. I've also talked to some of the worshippers, but they are more afraid of him than they are of me. But I'll break him in time."
He straightened up to fix the group with a stern gaze. "Final warning: I want these people brought to justice, but I won't have a mob running rampant in my town. You take things into your own hands, and I'll shove you all into that cell." He pointed to the small cell set into the earthen wall. It would be a tight fit for five people.
Eberic said, "What are you going to do with him?" as he pointed to the body on the ground.
Southwell looked down at the headless corpse. "I suppose I'll try burning him again, see if I have better luck than you did. If not, well, your idea of chopping him to pieces might work. Bury the pieces under stones in separate places and hope for the best." He again fixed the group with a stern look. "I suggest we keep this between us. If he was working for Auril, then I'd rather the Aurilites don't know about him. They may try to steal the parts for some sick ritual."
Pariah added, "I believe there was a bounty? A hundred dragons?"
"True," he nodded. "Treasury's closed right now so come back in the morning and I'll have your reward for you."
Pariah narrowed her eyes. She'd had people try to cheat her out of payment before and, as she'd just said, people in power often got away with a lot. However she settled for saying, "Fine. First thing tomorrow then. We'll be at the Northlook if you need us for anything."
They ate their dinner at the Northlook in a grim silence. The common room was mostly full but had that same "mind your own business" air that it had their first night in Bryn Shander. Conversations were going on around them, but mostly in low tones as the patrons at each table leaned forward in conspiratorial groups. Nobody paid attention to anyone else.
As Pariah nursed a mug of mead, she knew she should probably talk to Zariel, but not here, not in front of the others. She was concerned about the other woman's temper, especially that apparently involuntary expression of burning energy in the House of the Morninglord. Pariah had no idea how much divine or infernal energy Zariel could call upon, nor how dangerous it was to be around her if she cut loose.
Dejen, in an effort to relieve some of the tension, had been telling them a story of a blight that struck the crops outside of his home city of Riatavin right before the harvest three years before. It was the first time he was able to use his artificial mind to access large amounts of information while away from his library, and it had allowed him to prove that the disease had been caused by a druid from a nearby elven settlement. Humans had been illegally cutting down trees in their forest and, though the situation was being resolved diplomatically, the druid had decided to strike directly at the city. The elves disavowed him and he was arrested.
Bjarnson was the only one who was paying attention. Pariah and Zariel were lost in their own thoughts, Lulu was focused on Zariel, and Eberic didn't really listen to anyone.
After Dejen finished his story, they continued eating in silence for a bit until Zariel said quietly, "Do we wish to conduct our investigations tonight?"
Pariah had been considering that herself. They had agreed that, despite Southwell's warnings, they wanted to question the Aurilites themselves. Zariel was impatient to find the culprit, and she could respect that, but Pariah was also tired and achy from the fight on the road. In addition, there was something else she wanted to do that night, something she didn't want to tell any of them about. Well, other than Lulu, since she'd need the asteri's help.
She said, "Let's do it in the morning. I'm tired. We're all pretty banged up from the fight with Sephek's corpse."
Zariel's mouth tightened, but she admitted, "That's true. It might be best for us to be ready for anything."
Pariah was done with her meal and didn't feel like another drink. She said, "I think I'm going to head up to my room now."
"I'll come up later," Zariel said. "I'll try not to wake you."
Pariah stood up. "I'll be up reading for a bit so don't worry about it."
Zariel nodded distantly, staring off into nothing. Pariah said, "Good night, all," and started towards the stairs. She stopped at the bottom and glanced over at the table. Zariel and Bjarnson had their backs to her. Eberic and Dejen were facing her, but the latter was drawing something on the table and Eberic was looking down at it with a baffled expression. Lulu was sitting on the table, looking up at Zariel with concern.
Pariah made a surreptitious wave of her hand, hoping to catch Lulu's attention but nobody else's. She succeeded and the little angel looked up. Pariah put a finger to her lips and then tapped her temple.
"What is it?" asked Lulu's voice in her head.
"Can you still talk to me from there if I go upstairs?" Pariah asked.
"Sure."
Pariah started up the steps and thought, "I want to ask a favor and I don't want you to tell Zariel. I know you don't like keeping secrets from her, and we'll tell her later, but for right now I don't want her to know."
Lulu's voice was petulant as she said, "I know you are mad at Zariel right now, but she's not going to do anything wrong. I don't want to go behind her back."
"What?" Pariah asked in surprise as she arrived at the door to their room. "No, it's not like that. It's not about her. It's about Dejen."
"Dejen?" Lulu asked in surprise.
Pariah let herself into the room and closed the door behind her. As she started to strip out of her armor, she said, "I overheard him talking to someone earlier. Nobody was there so it must have been a spell or something. But he said he was going to meet them tonight. If you're willing -- and it's fine if you're not -- I'd like you to stay in the common room tonight, invisible, and let me know if he goes out after we all go to sleep."
"Do you want me to follow him?"
"No. I'll do that. I just want you to tell me if he leaves the inn."
Lulu was silent for a long time. "I don't like spying on our friends."
"I know. Me either. Look, it's probably nothing. I'm just being paranoid. That's why I don't want to tell Zariel or anyone else; I don't want to accuse him of anything. But I'd still like to know what he's up to. To be fair, we don't know any of these people very well. He could be anyone. And I'm still bothered that he came here just two days before we did."
Again Lulu was quiet. Finally she said, "Well, all right. Just this once."
"Thanks, Lulu. I'm sure it's nothing. We can all laugh about it later."
She hoped.
Pariah was sitting up in bed reading when the door opened to admit Zariel and Lulu.
"Oh, good," Zariel said. "You are still awake." She closed the door. "We need to talk."
Dammit, Pariah thought to herself. Had Lulu already told Zariel about tonight? She knew it was unfair of her to ask the angel to go behind her friend's back, but had wanted to find out more before spreading rumors to the others in the group.
As Zariel unstrapped her sword she said, "I wanted to apologize for my outburst earlier, especially since you were hurt by that eruption of energy. And afterwards, it was unfair of me to direct my anger at you."
"Oh," Pariah said, struggling to change mental direction. She had already been thinking about how to respond to her plan to spy on Dejen and now she floundered as she tried to orient to the new subject.
Zariel leaned her sword in the corner of the room and sat down on the bed to remove her boots. "I am trying to walk a new path, but so much of my old self lurks under the surface. Not just who I was after my fall, but who I was before." She sighed sadly and stopped with one boot off. "The angel you used to be is the real monster. Those cutting words uttered by your companion echo in my head. Lathander said much the same at my trial."
She stared off into nothing for a while and then went back to removing her other boot. "It is hard to measure my life in mortal years. Time passes differently in the Outer Planes than here. However, it is safe to say I have seen events in your world thousands of years ago. And for most of that time, I followed the right path. Yes I was quick to temper, quick to fight, but I knew the line between valor and wrath. I'm not sure when I lost my way. I don't know what changed, when a willingness to fight became a love of violence, when a yearning for justice became a lust for vengeance, but it happened before my invasion of Avernus."
She fixed Pariah with a determined stare. "I was a good soldier once. I was a loyal defender of Lathander and the Heavens. I was a paragon of justice. I want to be that again."
She seemed to be waiting for a response, so Pariah said, "That's a great goal." She nodded towards Lulu and added, "And you have a great person to help you get there." She looked down at the floor as she gathered her thoughts. "I've said before I believe in redemption. I believe people can change. But that doesn't mean they do, and it certainly doesn't mean change is easy. I'll do what I can to help, and certainly I'll call you out when I think you've crossed a line."
"I've noticed," Zariel said dryly.
Pariah grinned at her. "It's a tough conversation to have in front of the others, though."
"True," Zariel nodded as she stood to remove her hauberk. Pariah got up to help her get out of the bulky chain garment. After they did, Zariel folded the chainmail over itself and said, "This secret is going to be hard to keep if we keep traveling with the others."
"Are you saying we should leave them?" Pariah asked in surprise.
"No," Zariel said quickly. Then she shrugged. "I don't know. They seem like good people. I like them. But I fear their reaction if they find out the truth about me. I don't think they trust us."
"That's not surprising," Pariah said. "We all don't actually know each other that well. We obviously all have secrets." For a moment she thought about mentioning Dejen, but that could wait. She'd still rather know more before bringing Zariel into it. She went on to say, "We know Eberic is on the run from Targos authorities, but who knows what else he might be hiding? Same with the others."
"True," Zariel replied distantly. Abruptly she said, "I think I will let you take the lead on questioning the Aurilites tomorrow. Somehow I doubt they will be as quick to brag about their actions as Sephek Kaltro was. I just wish I could force the truth from them." Then, perhaps realizing how that sounded, she quickly added, "In a non-violent way of course. Or at least know a lie when I heard one, like I used to be able to do as an angel."
"Can you?" Pariah asked Lulu.
"No," the asteri said. "I can just hear what people think at me. I can't actually read their thoughts."
"Pity. Well, I'm pretty good at spotting lies so maybe we'll get some answers tomorrow."
Zariel said, "Let us hope so. And perhaps I will receive some divine guidance in my dreams tonight." She had finished stripping out of her armor, and said, "So, with that in mind, I think I will go to sleep. Lulu, shall I send you back to Mount Celestia tonight?"
"No," Lulu said quickly. "I think I'll stay. You've had a hard day and I want to be here for you."
Zariel gave her a grateful smile and pulled the blanket down so she could crawl into bed. She looked over at Pariah and said with genuine feeling, "I really am sorry about today."
"It's fine," Pariah said, waving it off. And it was, sort of. She was still worried about how much of Zariel's old personality was still a factor, but she'd just have to see it through a day at a time.
She got into bed and doused the lamp. She knew she was going to stay awake for a while, but she'd feign sleep until Zariel drifted off.
"I still don't like doing this behind her back,” came Lulu's voice in her head.
"I know. We'll tell her about it later. Let's see what happens tonight."
She laid back, staring at the ceiling, trying not to fall asleep as she listened for Zariel's breathing to become slow and steady.
Notes:
Not much to add this chapter. The Dejen subplot is the Character Secrets part of the module. Mishann's murder is my own creation so that Zariel can have a crisis of redemption. I'm still not 100% sure how either of these arcs are going to go.
Chapter 46: Midnight Conspiracies
Summary:
Pariah follows Dejen as he heads for a mysterious meeting in the middle of the night.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 30, 1496 (14 days after the New Moon)
"Pariah, wake up!"
Pariah stirred and asked, "What?"
"Dejen is out of his room. He's going out the front door."
Pariah was half-asleep so it took her a moment to realize the voice was in her head. "Thanks, Lulu," she thought back as she propped herself up on her elbows.
"I'm going to follow him."
"You don't have to do that," she thought back. "I'll be down in a moment."
"I'll follow him and tell you where he's going," Lulu insisted.
Pariah looked over at Zariel. The other woman seemed to be asleep, so she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Zariel still didn't stir as Pariah grabbed her boots and cloak, which she had left in easy reach, and padded out of the room. After closing the door quietly, she quickly slipped on her boots. "Be careful, Lulu. I don't think he's dangerous, but I don't want him to realize we're watching him."
She hurried downstairs as she put on her fur cloak, still trying to move quietly. Since she was in a hurry, she wasn't wearing armor or a weapon. She didn't even have her new spell focus so her spellcasting would be limited. She hoped she wouldn’t regret that decision.
The common room was dimly lit by lamps turned low. The place was empty. Bryn Shander might be the largest of the Ten-Towns, but the whole town still shut down around midnight. She moved to the door and slipped out into the darkness. She gathered her cloak around her, protecting herself against the stiff wind. The moon was past its zenith, casting nearly as much illumination as the meager daylight, and the sky was bright with the aurora that always appeared in the small hours. She guessed it was about two or three hours past midnight.
"Where is he?” she asked mentally.
"Don't go down the main street," Lulu replied. "He turned right as he came out of the inn."
Pariah, who had already started down the street that led between the North Gate and the town square, changed direction to walk down the narrower road that led roughly parallel to the wall a block to her right. The path was fairly straight and she could see a lone figure far ahead of her.
"Is that him ahead of me?"
"Yes. I see you. He's right in front of you."
Pariah walked slowly, staying near the buildings so she could duck out of sight if he looked behind him. There were no lamps along this street so there were plenty of shadows. However, she needn't have bothered being so careful. He was strolling casually through the night, not looking around, giving no sign he was doing anything suspicious. She grimaced to herself. This was probably a waste of time. Odds are he was meeting some scholar of obscure history who had the secret diary of a minor diplomat nobody had heard of from a hundred years ago.
He turned to the left and she increased her pace, not wanting to lose him in the maze of side streets.
"He's stopping," said Lulu. "He's talking to some woman. She's...I know her. I think. I mean I've seen her."
"Who is she?" Pariah asked as she tried to move quickly and quietly towards the corner he had turned.
"I don't know. There's something familiar about...Oh! Now I remember. He met with her before. That night we went to talk to the furrier, on our way back he stopped to talk to her in the marketplace. I think she's a beggar or something. She has a little bedroll in the alley. It must be really cold."
Pariah remembered that Zariel had said that he talked to this woman when they had come back from the furrier, but he had insisted the woman was shy so asked Zariel to stay back. Maybe she wasn't shy; maybe something was going on.
"Will they see me if I come around this next corner?" she asked.
"Um, wait. Let me look." There was a pause and then Lulu said, "No. Turn left at the corner and then they are in the second little alley on the right. They won't see you on the street."
Just to be sure, Pariah peeked around the building anyhow but she couldn't see anyone down the dark street. She crept forward until she could hear voices, Dejen's and a woman's.
"...said he was going to try burning the body again," Dejen was saying, "though I don't think he'll have much luck. If not, he'll chop the body up and bury the pieces separately."
The woman sighed. "I hope that works, but it's anyone's guess with Auril. I'm glad you're safe."
"Thank you. It was quite terrifying. I've never faced undead before. I don't care for it."
The woman chuckled. "I'm not a fan either." She sighed. "All right, I'll keep an eye on the Kaltro situation. Any more from Graysteel?"
"I haven't had a chance to see her yet, but I'm not optimistic about her chances to stop the Rime. We haven't come across any more chwingas, and I don't know how much they'd help her. What about this friend of Copper's?"
"It's hard to say," she replied. "I've tried to get him to talk about it when I've gone to the temple, but he clams up. I think they argued before he left and there's bad feelings there."
"I'll see if I can talk the rest of them into checking out his cabin. Or should we focus on the duergar? Well, no, I know they'll want to look into Mishann's murder first. Do you know anything?"
"Not really. It seems obviously the Aurilites, though I can't prove that."
He said, "The sheriff seems reluctant to pursue them."
"It's not that; he wants evidence," she replied. "I don't blame him. As unlikely as it seems, someone could be framing them for the murders. We must work within the framework of the law." She added in the sing-song tone of a rote recitation, "The rule of law aids peace and fosters freedom, so long as the laws are just and those who enforce them lenient and understanding."
"I know," he sighed. "But I believe the book also says, 'All beings should walk free of fear, with the right to live their lives as they wish.'"
The woman snorted. "True enough. Unfortunately, bringing that about is the tough part of the job."
Pariah frowned as those quotes tickled a memory, a memory of a man who had approached her a year or so ago. Although she always evaded questions about her exploits in Avernus, he was persistent, adamant that he knew the truth of things. He said she was the kind of person he was looking for, and he tried to get her to join his organization.
"Talona's tits," she said aloud, and she heard the intakes of breath from around the corner. She stepped out from behind to wall into a narrow, dead-end alley. Dejen was standing with an olive-skinned, dark-haired human woman of about thirty. They were staring at her, wide-eyed. "You're Harpers?" Pariah demanded.
The two of them were stunned by her appearance. Finally Dejen said weakly, "We're what?"
She gave him an eye roll. "Just don't. I heard you talking into your magic rock that I guess she can hear. And I've heard those verses you were quoting from someone who tried to recruit me. Is that why you are here in Icewind Dale? Not because of some scholarly interest, but because the Harpers want to stop Auril."
Dejen stammered but the woman chuckled lightly. "It seems we are found out," she said. "I'm Beldora. I assume you're Pariah."
"Yes," the tiefling said. She called out, "Lulu, you might as well show yourself, too."
They all looked up at the sound of wings and the asteri appeared above them before settling on Pariah's left shoulder, reaching into her hood to hold her horn for balance.
Beldora gave Lulu a welcoming nod before saying to Pariah, "I'm surprised another Harper is working in this area without someone notifying me."
Pariah was confused by her comment, until she realized the misunderstanding. "I said he tried to recruit me. I didn't say I agreed to join. I asked around a bit at the time. Found out you're a bunch of do-gooders, or a bunch of meddlesome pests depending on who you ask. I'm not really good at taking orders."
Beldora grinned. "Most of our people feel the same, believe it or not. It's how we work. We encourage independence."
"Yeah, he said the same thing. Not interested." She frowned. "But you didn't answer my question. Are the Harpers trying to stop Auril?"
Beldora and Dejen exchanged a glance, and then she said, "I'm more interested in stopping her cult. Stopping the goddess herself is a little above my area of responsibility. But now that I know about the duergar, that complicates things."
Pariah asked Dejen, "Did you also tell her about Caer-Dineval?"
From the confused look on the woman's face, it was clear he hadn't. Beldora asked him, "What about Caer-Dineval?"
Dejen opened his mouth, struggled a bit, and then said in an annoyed tone, "The speaker is sick."
Beldora's confusion deepened. "OK," she said slowly. "Is that important?"
Dejen huffed in frustration and looked at Pariah.
"Yeah, I know," the tiefling sighed. "This is going to be harder than I had hoped."
"What are you talking about?" Beldora asked.
Dejen frowned in thought. "I told you about Pariah. About her past association with Levistus."
Pariah felt annoyance as the woman nodded. The tiefling quickly said, "Past association. And not one I wanted."
"Yes, I know," Beldora said. "He told me the whole story." To Dejen he said, "What about it?"
He looked at her and said very intently, "The speaker of Caer-Dineval is sick."
Beldora looked back and forth between him and Pariah, mystified. "I don't understand."
Dejen and Pariah were both getting frustrated. However, an idea occurred to her, and she said, "So, not related to Caer-Dineval at all, but you know one thing I hate about magic? That it can make you do things or say things you don't mean. It can prevent you from telling the truth."
She wasn't sure that was enough, but the light dawned on the other woman's face. "Ah, I may understand." She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then said, "All right, then I will ask you not to lie. I would rather you remain silent than tell me a lie. Understand?"
They both nodded in return.
To Dejen she said, "Is the speaker of Caer-Dineval sick?"
He clamped his lips together and gazed at her silently.
She asked, "Is the archdevil Levistus operating in Caer-Dineval?"
Again, he said nothing.
"Shit," she sighed, rubbing her face. "We certainly don't need that complication. Can you tell me anything about what's going on?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and simply stared at her.
"Fine, fine," she said in resignation. "And I don't know of anyone who could break a spell like that, especially one coming from an archdevil." She fixed Pariah with a stern gaze. "And what's your role in this? Why is a former disciple of Levistus here?"
"I was never a disciple," she said hotly. "I made a decision to help some people, but I broke off our arrangement later. I am absolutely opposed to anything he might be doing in the mortal world."
"And that's not something he's making you say?" Beldora asked suspiciously.
Dejen answered, "I don't believe it is. I'm still unsure of all of the details of her past arrangement, but she has seemed pointedly opposed to..." He broke off and couldn't speak. Finally he finished in an irritated tone, "...to the speaker being sick."
"All right, but that doesn't answer my question." To Pariah she said, "Why are you here? He said you arrived just two days after he did."
"I'm traveling with someone who is a worshiper of Lathander. She's on some kind of holy quest to find out why the sun is gone. I'm just sort of tagging along."
To Dejen, Beldora said, "That's Zariel?"
"Yes," he said, but his tone carried a lot more meaning than a single word.
"What's that supposed mean?" Pariah asked him.
He said nothing, looking instead to Beldora to answer. She said, "Dejen has expressed some concern about her motivations."
"That's not fair!" Lulu said passionately, piping up for the first time. "She's just trying to help."
"It's a little fair," Pariah said to her gently. To the others, she said, "Zariel has a...troubled past. She's trying to leave some bad decisions behind. She truly is a devout follower of Lathander, and she does want to find out how to stop the Everlasting Rime, but she's wrestling with some personal demons."
Beldora asked, "Do you trust her?"
Pariah hedged for a bit before saying, "I trust her intent."
"I trust her completely!" Lulu said firmly.
Beldora studied Pariah carefully. "Is she dangerous?"
"Not necessarily," Pariah responded. "She tends towards obsession, though. Doing the wrong things for the right reasons."
"That's mean," Lulu mumbled.
Patiently she said, "Lulu, I want to trust her too, but you can see she's struggling with her temper. From what I understand, that has always been a problem with her. That worries me, especially after what happened in the shrine."
"She was sorry about that," the angel insisted.
"I know she was, but I'm still concerned she can't control herself. As much as she talks about justice, I'm still afraid of what she might do if we find Mishann's killer." After a moment, she added, "And I think you are worried about that too."
"I guess," Lulu admitted.
"We'll do our best to keep her on the right side of things," Pariah assured her. "That's why we can't ignore when she makes mistakes."
"I guess," she said again.
Pariah turned back to Beldora. "So you don't know anything about the temple murders?"
The woman's eyes darted back and forth between Pariah and Lulu contemplatively before she said, "No. I assume you heard what I said: probably the Aurilites but no proof."
"I'm not sure what kind of proof we could find," Pariah sighed. "It's not like a bad mystery story where the killer conveniently keeps the bloody murder weapon in their desk after tracking unique white clay from the murder site through their home."
"That would be nice, but nothing less than a confession is likely to convict. And even a confession..." She shook her head.
"What?" Pariah prompted.
"If an Aurilite confessed and Markham acted, I'd still be afraid the other cultists or even Auril herself would intervene before justice could be done."
Pariah snorted. "I sure wish Amaunator or the Triad would get off their asses and help us find justice for their priests, but the immortals don't work that way."
Hesitantly, Beldora said, "As much as I hate to say it, it might be worth just walking away from this one. Go deal with the duergar."
The tiefling leaned back against the frozen brick wall and crossed her arms. "I could be talked into that, but I can't see Zariel letting this go. She seemed to take it quite personally."
"Yeah," Lulu said. "I think you're right."
"Whether the sheriff likes it or not, Zariel is going to start poking around tomorrow. She'll probably want to grill the head priest. Janus or something?"
Beldora nodded. "Malari Janus. Lots of luck getting him to admit anything."
"Yeah, that's what the sheriff said," Pariah sighed. "Where can we find him?"
The woman pointed out of the alley. "Their temple's west and a little south of the plaza, near the west wall. And 'temple' isn't really the right word. It's an open space among some buildings, so they can embrace the blessing of winter's fury."
"All right, we'll see what we can find." The tiefling cocked her head at the sky. "And that idea you had about someone framing the Aurilites, who else would want to kill the local priests?"
Beldora admitted, "I don't know. Certainly the Aurilites have the best motive, driving the other gods out and all that. When it happened at the House of the Triad, I wondered if it could be a personal beef with one of the priests. Mishann's murder under the same circumstances makes it more likely that someone just wants the temples gone."
"Any other priests in town?"
She shook her head. "A couple of Old Faith worshippers, but they tend to tolerate Auril as a natural force. But no priests of the usual deities."
Pariah knew that the Old Faith was the worship of natural and elemental forces rather than gods. Bjarnson probably followed that practice. "There haven't been any attacks against the Temple of Tempus in Easthaven," she mused, "though maybe they just haven't gotten around to that one yet. What about the other towns?"
Beldora shook her head. "I keep an ear out for rumors, but I haven't heard anything like that from anywhere else."
"I guess we'll start by questioning the local Aurilites. I can't think of anything else, other than maybe going back to the shrine to see if there is anything there."
Beldora said, "I've been over the outside a couple times. I poked around a little inside, but didn't want to raise Copper's suspicion so I didn't stay long. Maybe you'll find something I didn't."
"Maybe," Pariah said distantly. To Dejen she said, "Shall we head back?"
He hesitated and pursed his lips. "Are you planning to tell the others about this?" He nodded towards Beldora.
She was surprised by the question. "I hadn't thought about that yet. I don't know."
Lulu said, "I don't like keeping secrets from Zariel. And you said we'd tell her about it later."
"I did," Pariah admitted. She stared at the snowy ground thoughtfully.
Beldora said, "We operate best in secret. Few even suspect our presence here."
Pariah looked up to study her. "How many of you are there?"
Beldora gave her an exaggerated shrug and a practically comical look of innocence.
Dejen said to Pariah, "She won't tell me either."
The Harper said, "Again, secrecy is our greatest strength."
"Fair enough," Pariah sighed. "And it's not like you are Aurilites or devil worshippers or something." She frowned at Beldora and finally said, "I suppose we'll keep your secret."
"Except Zariel," Lulu insisted.
Pariah would rather not tell her, but she knew she'd have to concede the point. "Except Zariel." She hoped the woman would be willing to keep the information from Bjarnson and Eberic.
"Thank you," Beldora said with genuine feeling. "I would suggest you act like you don't know me if we see each other in future. All communications should be through Dejen."
"All right," Pariah agreed.
"Now, why don't you two head back. I still want to talk to Dejen for a moment."
"Going to talk about us behind our back?" Pariah asked with a grin.
"Definitely," Beldora replied in the same playful tone. "Plus I want to remind our young friend of the techniques we use to ensure we are not being followed."
Pariah chuckled, turned to make her way into the dark streets, but stopped as she thought of something. She turned back and asked, "Do you remember a tiefling kid named Mere?"
Beldora's eyebrows went up. "Yes, though I haven't seen him around in a while. I'm a little worried something might have happened to him."
"He's in Caer-Dineval now. We bonded a bit, one street kid to another. He mentioned you help take care of the people on the street."
"Caer-Dineval?" Beldora asked in concern. "Is he all right?"
Pariah paused, trying to think of words that the geas would allow her to say. "He's doing all right. Hanging with a bad crowd, but hasn't crossed a line yet."
Beldora's eyes narrowed. "And what do you think the future holds for him?"
"I’m not sure," the tiefling said, shaking her head. "He seems like a smart kid, knows not to get too involved with the wrong people. I'm hoping to get him out of there."
"He's always welcome back here," the other woman said firmly.
"Let's hope," Pariah said, nodded her goodbye, and then she and Lulu started back towards the Northlook.
Notes:
As I mentioned last chapter, the Harper subplot comes from the Character Secrets section of the module. As I write this, I'm not sure how much Beldora will have to do with the story. The Harper Code quotes are taken from the wiki.
Chapter 47: A Show of Bad Faith
Summary:
The party investigates the murder of the priest, Mishann.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 30, 1496 (14 days after the New Moon)
Pariah, Zariel and Eberic trudged through the dark and windy main street that led from the Northlook to the town square, on their way to see the sheriff. That morning, Pariah and Lulu had told Zariel about Dejen before they had gone down for breakfast. Zariel thought they should share the news with Bjarnson and Eberic, but grudgingly agreed to keep the secret for the moment.
However, during the conversation Pariah realized that there was no way to tell the others that she knew where the Aurilites were holed up without saying the information came from Beldora. They had planned to see the sheriff to get their bounty that morning anyhow, so she would have to feign ignorance and ask him.
The other three members of their group were headed back to the House of the Morninglord, both to look for clues and ask Copper if he could remember anything more. Dejen also wanted to see Dannika Graysteel, the woman who had sent him chwinga hunting, and ask if she'd made any progress.
"We never asked Sephek if he was involved with the temple murders," Pariah realized aloud.
"Yes," Zariel sighed, "I thought about that later. He might have been a valuable source of information." Her voice didn't carry a tone of chastisement.
Eberic grumbled, "He wouldn't have talked, and he attacked us first anyhow. Too dangerous to be kept alive."
"I don't disagree," Zariel conceded. "I just wish we had had the opportunity to question him."
Pariah added, "And he was quite willing to admit his role in the Coldheart Murders, so maybe he was willing to brag about the actions of the rest of the cult."
"Maybe," Eberic admitted.
"Let's hope the other Aurilites are just as chatty," she said. "That would make things easier."
They arrived at the town hall and entered the building. Unlike their previous visits, the inside was not pitch dark. Two lanterns on each wall illuminated the large space dimly. Pariah could also see light coming from beneath two of the three doors on the left wall. However, as usual, they headed towards the far end and the short flight of steps that led to the sheriff's underground office.
Southwell was there, sipping coffee at his desk. Kaltro was also there, his beheaded body still bound and locked in the cell. The sheriff grunted a greeting at them.
"No problems with your prisoner last night?" Pariah asked dryly.
Southwell shook his head. "I assume you're here for the bounty?"
"Yes, and some questions."
"Oh?"
"I'm wondering where the Aurilites are located in town. Do they have a temple or something?"
He frowned at her. "Why?"
Pariah gave him a winning smile. "I thought we'd go have a polite chat with them."
His frown deepened and his eyes flicked to Zariel and Eberic. "Polite, huh?" He sighed and rubbed his face. "You're not going to let this go, are you? I better go with you," he said grudgingly. "Make sure everyone stays...polite."
"That's not really necessary-" Pariah began, not wanting him to tag along.
Zariel interrupted, "Thank you, sheriff. Your presence would be appreciated."
Pariah suppressed a sigh.
The sheriff looked over at the body. "I was thinking of trying to burn him again." He nodded towards the steps. "Out front in the square. You could stand by in case anything strange happens. Saves me from rounding up some guards."
Eberic said quickly, "Fine with me. Happy to see him burn."
Pariah and Zariel shrugged agreement. Pariah added, "But let's get our money first."
"Fine," he said in a slightly annoyed tone. "I think I heard the treasurer come in. Let's go." He stood, grabbed his coat, and headed towards the stairs.
They followed him up to the main hall where he headed towards the nearest door. He knocked twice and then opened the door to reveal an office full of boxes, some open to reveal books and files. The room was warmed by an oil stove in one corner that Pariah thought was awfully close to the stacks of paper files. An iron safe loomed in other corner on the far side of the room. Under the usual smell of whale oil was the scent of strong tea.
Two men were seated on opposite sides of a large desk. A portly human man with close-cut chestnut hair was sorting through a set of papers. He ignored the newcomers, intent on his work. The other was a dwarven man dressed in several layers of checked flannel. His red beard was short and bristly, and his wavy hair was slowly retreating across the top of his scalp. He looked up from a thick ledger and grinned as he saw the sheriff. "Morning, Markham."
"Morning, Darrak," Southwell replied. "Morning, Trym," he greeted the other man, who just grunted without looking up. To the dwarf, the sheriff said, "I need a hundred dragons for a bounty."
"Sure thing," Darrak said, climbing to his feet as he glanced over at the others. Pariah and Eberic had followed the sheriff into the room, while Zariel stayed just outside the doorway.
Darrak had a ring of keys dangling from his belt. He unlocked each of three locks on the safe; Pariah couldn't help but notice the locks themselves were decent but probably wouldn't be too much of a challenge to someone with some skills. Not that she had any plans. It was just a reflexive thought.
"Platinum and gems OK?" the dwarf asked over his shoulder.
Southwell raised his eyebrows at them and Pariah shrugged. "I don't care, as long as it's spendable." She looked out at the others but neither seemed to care either. She knew that gems from the tourmaline mine in the northwest part of Ten-Towns were commonly used as currency. And from what she'd seen of prices, nobody was likely to balk at a platinum sun coin.
They waited patiently while he counted out coins and gems into a wooden tray, which he brought over to his desk. He took out a piece of paper and a quill. "Purpose?"
"Bounty," Southwell replied.
Darrak scribbled, handed the paper and quill to the sheriff, and slid the tray over. Southwell signed his name before turning to the others.
Pariah had already stepped forward. The tray held an assortment of gold, platinum and gems. The latter were cut to a uniform shape and size, like the gems they'd gotten from Blackiron Blades when they'd last been in town. She quickly counted the payment; nobody seemed bothered that she did, not that that would have stopped her. It came to exactly one hundred gold pieces.
She reached for the paper and quill. She glanced at the paper and it was a simple receipt of payment. She dipped the pen in the inkwell and then signed where the sheriff pointed. She always felt a little thrill when writing her name, since it wasn't something she had been able to do until recently.
Southwell said, "All right, then I'll need someone to help carry the body out to the plaza."
Eberic volunteered, "I'll do it."
As he and the sheriff headed downstairs, Pariah pocketed the payment, reminding herself to divide it up once everyone was together. It wasn't long before Eberic and the sheriff came back up to the hall, carrying the corpse. Pariah and Zariel followed them outside.
Southwell enlisted them to help stack wood and pour oil on it. They put Sephek's body and head on the pyre and soaked him in oil. Pariah noticed that the corpse was no longer encased in the thick layer of ice that had coated it since they had defeated him. She hoped that meant Auril's blessing was gone and the body would catch this time.
About a dozen curious onlookers gathered in the plaza, whispering to each other. Fearing there might be trouble, Pariah looked for Aurilite pendants but couldn't see any. "Who's that?" one of the spectators called out.
"A murderer," Southwell said back.
"Who?"
The sheriff continued his work without answering.
Zariel asked about Icewind Dale funerary services while the body was being prepared. Southwell explained that, since the ground was frozen solid, burying bodies was very difficult. They had built some crypts in the cemetery that housed most of the dead. They burned some, though many townspeople didn't like them using their limited fuel for that. He mentioned that the Reghed nomads left bodies out for the animals, returning people to nature. Eberic told them the dwarves had catacombs in Dwarven Valley, carefully guarded after the zombie outbreak a few years ago. He also said there was a woman in Termalaine who could crack the earth with her magic, breaking it up enough to allow graves to be dug. Targos ported bodies to the middle of Maer Dualdon and dumped them in the deepest part of the lake.
Once the small pyre was prepared, Southwell lit up a torch and, after ensuring everyone was clear, lobbed it towards the pile. The oil lit quickly as did the soaked wood. Zariel reached out with her magic and the flames burned hotter. They didn't curve around the body like they had before, and the corpse's clothes started to singe. It wasn't long before the smell of burning flesh filled the square.
Pariah grimaced and covered her nose and mouth with her scarf, though she was pleased to see the body was ablaze. She wanted to look away but she still feared some kind of divine interference, so she watched the fat drip off the corpse, the flesh char, and the bones crack in the heat.
The crowd shuffled closer to the fire, instinctively drawn even to such a grim source of heat in the bitter cold. Eventually the flames died down as the fuel was consumed, leaving a twisted and blackened body behind.
"Well," Southwell said, "I guess that's taken care of." He looked over the crowd. A few more had joined the spectators, including one of the town guards. The sheriff caught the eye of one of the onlookers. "You! Go fetch Gregor Tyrlylth. Tell him I have a load for the ash pile."
The man who was singled out looked to his companions for support, but the sheriff pointed down a road to the southeast and barked, "Go!" The man frowned as he jogged away in the direction indicated.
Southwell then looked at the guardsman. "Watch the ashes until the caretaker shows up." He turned to Pariah and her group. "All right, let's go talk to Malari Janus."
He strode purposefully towards the west while the others hurried to catch up to him.
Southwell moved at a determined pace through the snowy streets. They passed a few people, who all greeted the sheriff. He returned their greetings with gruff sociability.
Bryn Shander wasn't that big, so it didn't take long until they reached a cluster of buildings surrounding a common open area. There was a well to one side, though no rope led down into its depths. Pariah assumed it was frozen. Two dog sleds stood under dustings of snow, one to their right and one ahead, though no dogs were present.
No smoke rose from the chimneys of the buildings. Not only that but the doors and windows stood open. Windows that couldn't be opened had been broken out of their frames. The place might have seemed abandoned if there hadn't been light spilling out from each building.
Southwell strode into the middle of the common and shouted, "Malari Janus! It's Sheriff Southwell. Are you here?"
Sounds of movement came from the surrounding buildings, and three faces appeared in the open windows to peer out at the newcomers. She recognized one face, that of a teenage human boy, and it took her a moment to remember he had been at the Northlook the night she and Zariel had arrived. He scowled at their group. The other two -- a man and a woman, both human -- watched them with less hostility than the boy, but there was still threat in the air. Pariah slipped her shield off of her back and onto her left arm, though her sword remained in its sheath.
A man came out of the building ahead and to their left. He was a half-elf, middle-aged, with curly blonde hair and a thin goatee. He, like all of the onlookers, was dressed in wool clothes but not the heavy furs common to the area He wore the six-pointed snowflake symbol of Auril around his neck, and had the same symbol on his forehead, either makeup or a tattoo. This man had also had been at the Northlook that night.
"Good morning, sheriff," he called out with false joviality as he gave Southwell an empty smile and glanced over the newcomers with hard eyes. "What can the servants of the Frostmaiden do for you today?"
Pariah had half her attention on Zariel, but the woman held her tongue for the moment, letting the sheriff take the lead.
Southwell said, "Janus, I'm here to talk to you about the murders of Ingryl Battlehammer, Merna Shetsk, Delivon Ludwig, and Mishann Chayko."
"Who?" Janus asked archly.
"You know who," the sheriff replied. "We've had the conversation before."
"Oh, the priests," the man said with a smug expression. "As I've told you many times, I know nothing about that. Terrible tragedy. It's too bad they didn't have the protection that comes from swearing fealty to the Frostmaiden rather than following such weak gods." He nodded towards the dark sky. "See how Amaunator himself hides his face out of his fear of her."
Pariah could feel Zariel tense up, but the woman did nothing more than clench her mailed fists.
Southwell said, "You've been very open about your dislike of these people."
"Of course. They tried to interfere with our religious practices. It was bad enough that they preached the drivel of their weak gods, but they drew worshipers away from the one faith that could save them, spoke against the sacrifices that keep this town safe. Now that they are no longer around, the gospel of the Frostmaiden can spread without hindrance. Bryn Shander will be the center of her new kingdom on the Material Plane."
Pariah's attention was focused on Zariel, but it was Eberic who stepped forward to demand, "Did you know Sephek Kaltro?"
Janus seemed surprised by the abrupt change in subject. His eyes narrowed, "Kaltro? What about him?"
"Was he taking your orders?" Eberic asked.
The priest frowned. "What do you mean 'was'?"
It was Eberic's turn to be smug. "The man is dead. Killed him myself." He grudgingly added, "With some help."
"Did you?" Janus said softly. "And what makes you think I knew him?"
"Because he claimed he was murdering in Auril's name. I figure you psychopaths were working together. Maybe you're the one who gave him his targets in Bryn Shander."
Janus raised his chin to look down his nose at the dwarf. "I see. Yes, I do see." He looked at Southwell and gestured at Eberic. "And you just let this confessed murderer walk free, sheriff? Where's the justice in that?"
Southwell replied, "You haven't answered his question. Did you know Kaltro?"
The priest smirked and said, "Kaltro? Never heard of him before this dwarf confessed to murdering him." He wasn't even trying to make the lie believable. His eyes dared the sheriff to challenge him.
"Enough!" roared Zariel as her longsword whispered from her sheath, lighting up the area with its glow. She plunged the point into the earth at her feet and a wave of radiant energy pulsed over the courtyard. "Confess!" she demanded.
Pariah felt a strange energy enter her mind as though a presence was searching her thoughts. She felt the sudden urge to admit to every petty crime she'd ever committed. It was not a feeling she liked.
Zariel glared at Janus, who was looking shocked at her outburst. "Did you know Sephek Kaltro?" she demanded.
The priest's mouth moved silently and then he grated out involuntarily, "Yes, I knew him."
"Did you know he was the Coldheart Killer?"
"Yes," Janus said through gritted teeth and then slapped his hand over his mouth.
"Did you aid him in his murders or give him the names of his targets?"
He kept his hand over his mouth and made muffled noises, but his vigorous nod was answer enough.
She said coldly, "Did you murder the priests of the Triad and the priest of the Morninglord?"
Janus removed his hand and glared at her. "Yes!" he crowed. "All of those who follow these feeble gods rather than serving the glory of the Frostmaiden deserve to die. Enough of this blasphemy. Kill them!"
He turned and ran back into the building he had come out of. As though they had been waiting for the command, two of his followers dashed out of the surrounding buildings to stand in front of the doorway, protecting Janus. One was the teenage boy who was gripping a shortsword, and the other was the human man who was holding a spear. Pariah heard footsteps behind her and saw two more charging in from behind them.
Janus, looking over the heads of the two minions guarding him, cast a spell and a six-pointed snowflake made of ice and four or five feet across appeared in front of Southwell. It started spinning in the air and slashing at both him and Zariel. Eberic had already dashed forward, but was running around the side of the building the priest was in rather than charging the door.
Pariah remembered what had happened at the séance and in Avarice's room, and wondered if she could use that uncontrolled magic deliberately. She'd need room but it looked like, for the moment at least, she had it while Southwell and Zariel were blocked by the icy weapon. Pariah charged forward, leading with her shield. She still hadn't drawn her sword because she need her hand free. Looking past the three men, she saw Eberic framed in the window on the far side of the room. Unseen by their enemies, he unleashed an arrow through the window and into the back of the boy.
Meanwhile, Pariah began trying to draw the dark magic into her armor to layer it with frost, but she deliberately didn’t focus the spell through the chardalyn crystal. As she had hoped, she lost control of the raw infernal energy, which burst forth from her and washed over the three men in front of her. The teenager fell, dead, and the other man staggered back as the energy sucked at his life force. He stabbed at her with his spear, and the point glanced off the leather over her ribs. Janus didn't seem too badly affected by her spell as he focused on a point behind her and continued to attack Southwell and Zariel with his magic.
Pariah heard the clash of weapons behind her, and heard Zariel chant a prayer in Enochian. Janus bellowed, "Feel the power of winter's fury!" as he raised his hands to the sky. As cold as it was, Pariah could feel the temperature drop further and the wind picked up behind her.
Keeping her shield up, she glanced up to see a storm gathering over their heads. She expected a fall of sleet as had happened with Kaltro, but instead a single massive spear of ice dropped from the sky between Zariel and Southwell. It shattered, peppering them with shards. The jagged ice snowflake continued to slash at them both as well.
Pariah's unfocused attention cost her when the spearman managed to come in under her shield to stab her hard in the hip. The point punched through the leather and she yelled as it dug into her flesh. Turning back to face him, she shoved him back with her shield. However, he was so focused on her that he hadn't seen Eberic come through the open window behind him, ice dagger in hand. The dwarf came up silently and stabbed him in the kidney. The man collapsed with a look of surprise.
Janus stepped back, anxiety on his face as he saw his two bodyguards cut down, but there wasn't anywhere to go in the small room. Pariah was still reeling from the pain in her hip as she drew her sword. Eberic moved in behind him and Pariah stepped over the bodies to come in from the side. He managed to dodge their blows or deflect them with his mace, but they drove him towards the opening.
Southwell and Zariel had dealt with the thugs outside and both moved in to engage Janus. Zariel charged in with the same look of fury she'd had when discovering Mishann was dead. Her sword started to glow, but it wasn't the divine glow Pariah had seen before. Instead black-edged flames licked up and down the blade. She slashed at him and the flames jumped to his wool clothing, setting his arm alight.
He frantically waved his arm around, trying to extinguish the flames as he went into a full defensive stance. Another massive icicle dropped from the sky, smashing behind Zariel and Southwell and spraying them with spears of shattered ice. Zariel staggered forward and fell to her knees. "Die, worshiper of the weak sun," he crowed as the ice snowflake slashed across her back. She pitched forward.
Janus's attention was focused on Zariel so he missed defending against a blow from Southwell's longsword, a blow strong enough to slam him back against the wall and leave a bloody gash across his chest. The priest's triumphant sneer quickly turned into panic. He cried out, "Frostmaiden, save me!"
Pariah felt bitter cold gather around her. She looked down to see ice forming around her, not the light layer of frost she pulled into her armor, but a thick coating of imprisoning ice. She saw the same thing happening to Southwell and Eberic. In moments, her arms and legs were trapped and she couldn't move.
Janus saw his opportunity and fled out the open doorway and across the small common, though he was limping due to his injuries. As Pariah saw him run and saw Zariel bleeding out on the floor, she felt desperation building up in her. She strained with all her might and the ice around her limbs shattered. She looked at the fleeing priest but knew that Zariel might have only seconds. She fished out her only healing potion as she rushed over to her, and then she knelt down and poured it between her open lips.
Ice cracked next to her as Eberic started to break out of his prison. His legs were still trapped so he drew back an arm and flung the ice dagger towards Janus's back as the man reached the edge of the common. It hit low, below his ribs and near his spine, and the point sunk in deeply. The priest stumbled forward and pitched face down on the icy ground. The storm above them dissipated and a silence settled over the area.
Notes:
The funeral rites mentioned were based on the practices of real cold-weather peoples.
Neither this module or "Legacy of the Crystal Shard" gave Mishann/Mithann a last name so I added one on my own. She's from Cormyr and the surnames listed in the PHB sound vaguely Ukrainian/Russian/Belorussian to me so I picked a Ukrainian name and tweaked it.
Malari Janus is my own creation, based on priest with some tweaks to make him more Auril focused. His minions are thugs with fewer HP (3d8+6), no pack tactics, and added cold resistance.
Zariel's "Confess!" moment was a zone of truth from her sword, though it actively compels the truth rather than just preventing lying. Her sword will upgrade as she levels and it can cast one spell per day. Previously that was only color spray but we've added zone of truth as part of the first upgrade. Eventually she'll get fear like she used in the Avernus story.
Janus's icicles from the sky was call lightning, and the icy prison was hold person. Pariah's "uncontrolled spell" was arms of Hadar.
EDIT: I've boosted searing smite to do 2d6 initial fire damage to make it a reasonable alternative to divine smite. It still does 1d6 damage as a DOT, and still scales at +1d6 per additional spell level. There are more details about my reasons for this change in my comment to aaron_mag below.
Chapter 48: Victory and Loss
Summary:
Malari Janus is dead and the murders of the Bryn Shander priests have been avenged.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kythorn 30, 1496 (14 days after the New Moon)
Zariel sat up sputtering, a few drops of healing potion trickling down her chin. She looked around in confusion, demanding, "Where is he?" as she started to her feet.
"It's fine. He's down," Pariah said, gently pushing her back down into a sitting position and nodding in the direction of Janus's body. "You should rest for a moment."
Zariel stopped struggling and sat down on the frozen ground. "I had hoped for an arrest," she said unhappily, "but justice was done."
Ice cracked as Southwell and Eberic broke out of their frozen prisons. "Was that justice?" the sheriff demanded. "You cast some kind of spell that forced a confession. How do I know it was true?"
Zariel glared at him, but then her wrath faded. "I suppose it might have seemed that way. Come with me. The spell should still be active."
Despite Pariah's urgings, the warrior climbed to her feet and hobbled over to the spot in the common where they had first encountered the Aurilites. The others followed her. As they neared the area, Pariah felt some kind of compulsion come over her, an urge to confess her sins.
Zariel turned to the sheriff. "It is merely a prayer of truth. Sheriff, tell me your name."
Puzzled, the sheriff responded, "My name is Markham Southwell."
She nodded. "Now tell me a lie."
"My name is..." He trailed off with a frown.
"Now confess to the murders of the priests."
His frown deepened but after a moment he said, "I..." Again, he didn't seem to be able to speak. He grunted. "I've heard of priests using similar spells, though I've never trusted them." He looked over at Janus and said, "But what's done is done."
Zariel insisted, "He was guilty, both of aiding in the Coldheart Murders, and in the murders of your priests. That is certain. And he attacked us."
"I suppose," the sheriff said uncertainly. He sighed, "If nothing else, that's the story I'm going to have to stick to if I want to justify five bodies."
"Four bodies," Zariel said. She pointed to one of the worshipers, a human man with curly hair and a club held in slack fingers. "He's actually asleep, not dead. In fact he'll be waking soon, so you might want to secure him."
Southwell examined him, confirmed that he was in fact asleep, and slapped manacles on him before he woke up, confused and angry. They checked the others and confirmed they were all dead. The sheriff looked over the scene, shaking his head, and mumbled, "What a mess."
"Zariel!" Lulu shouted as she, Dejen and Bjarnson came rushing into the common. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Zariel said with a wan smile, though she was quite pale and leaning against one of the buildings. "I told you we had been victorious and you didn't need to hurry." She said to the others, "I called out to her when the battle began. I knew they wouldn't be able to reach us in time, but I wanted them to know in case the fight went poorly."
"Good," Southwell declared. "Then you can all help me drag the bodies back to the town hall."
Bjarnson interjected, "I think I should take our wounded back to the Northlook."
"My injuries are minor," Zariel insisted, despite evidence to the contrary. "I'm happy to aid the sheriff."
Bjarnson looked at Pariah who, despite her aches, gave him a resigned shrug.
Southwell had them carry the four bodies while he kept a heavy hand on the shoulder of their one live prisoner. He marched them back to the square to drop the Aurilites off at his office. He locked the prisoner in the cell under the watch of a guardsman who had joined them on the trip. Southwell mumbled something about filling the speaker in on what had just happened, and Pariah and her companions returned to the Northlook for a rest.
Upon returning to the inn they realized it would be too hard to have a conversation in the common room, even with the community's tendency to mind their own business. They retired to Eberic's room to talk, though Zariel and Bjarnson had gone to her room so that he could examine her injuries in privacy.
Dejen said that they had gone to see Dannika Graysteel to ask if her investigation of the chwinga had yielded anything useful. The little elemental had still been there in her house. They were allowed to roam free and seemed to show no interest in leaving, but Graysteel hadn't discovered anything of use from studying them.
The group had been speaking with her when Lulu heard Zariel's call. The group had rushed out of there to help their companions, so hadn't had a chance to investigate the Shrine of the Morninglord.
"I guess there's no point now," Pariah said. "He admitted it, the sheriff accepted the confession. We don't need any more evidence."
Dejen said, "True, though I also wanted to look in on Copper. Just to see how he's doing."
Lulu added, "Zariel and me want to go see him and ask if there's going to be a funeral. We should attend. Her and me at least, as representatives of Lathander."
Pariah said, "I'd want to go to the funeral, too." Dejen and Eberic both nodded agreement. She mused, "I suppose we can go see him later today, maybe after lunch." She guessed that Dejen would want to report Janus's death to Beldora, but that wasn't something she could bring up in front of the others.
They were all lost in their own silent thoughts for a time, until Eberic asked, "So what's the plan after that? Going back to Easthaven to hunt duergar?"
"That might be best," Pariah replied. "At the very least, we should probably get out of Bryn Shander for a bit." The others looked at her quizzically, and she explained, "Once the Aurilites find out about Janus, they may be out for revenge."
Eberic grunted, "Let 'em come."
Dejen said nervously, "And the duergar may eventually figure out we cleared out their base. If we track down more in Easthaven, they may also want some kind of retribution."
Pariah shrugged. "Life of an adventurer." Or a Harper, she thought to herself. That's the trouble with meddling in other people's business: sometimes those people get upset. She went on to say, "Zariel's probably going to need two or three days down time, no matter how much she insists she's fine."
Lulu nodded. "I know. She doesn’t understand that her body doesn't bounce back as fast as it used to."
Pariah tried to avoid visibly wincing at the remark. Dejen, confused, asked Lulu, "Why not?"
Lulu, realizing she had said too much, stammered out, "She's not as young as she used to be."
That puzzled Dejen even more. "She hardly seems very old at all."
Pariah interjected, "She's just had some physical setbacks. She doesn't like to talk about it, but she isn't quite the fighter she was."
Dejen's eyebrows raised. "Wow, then she must have been an amazing warrior."
"She was," Lulu insisted.
"She was," Pariah agreed. "I've only fought alongside her once before we came here, but she was definitely amazing." She knew her lie was dancing a little too close to the truth, so she changed the subject. "Depending on when the funeral is, we might want to rest up in Easthaven instead." And then an idea occurred to her and she said to Eberic, "Or Termalaine. You could go home while we figure our next move."
He had been staring off into a corner of the room. "I was thinking the same thing," he admitted. "Now that we have sleds, it's only about two hours to Termalaine."
"Well, then, that's got my vote," Pariah declared. Playfully she added, "I want to meet the woman who puts up with you."
The dwarf grunted and continued, "However, dealing with the duergar might get more privileges for the prisoners in Caer-Dineval. I can wait a couple more days to head home."
They arrived at the House of the Morninglord in the dim afternoon light. They found Copper in his fuzzy suit taking the fractured front door off its hinges with the assistance of a chubby human man wearing white furs with a purple flower embroidered on the hood. As they approached he turned to face them. Wisps of blond hair peeked out from his hood and two days of slightly darker stubble decorated his ruddy cheeks. He looked at them with sad, gray eyes and said, "Good afternoon. I'm afraid the temple is closed."
"We know," Zariel said. "We came to see how Copper was doing after the tragedy. I'm Zariel." She held out a hand.
He looked at her hand blankly and then reached out to shake it. "I'm Jakob."
"Mishann's son?" Zariel asked. He nodded, and she said, "I'm so sorry for your loss. I knew your mother only briefly, but I liked her. She was a fine representative of the Morninglord. I suppose we are here for you as well. Is there anything we can do for you?" She nodded towards the door. "I'd be happy to help repair the damage and restore the temple."
Jakob looked over at the remains of the door. Dully he said, "I'm not planning to restore the temple. Nobody is left to run it. I don't know what to do with the space, though. Mostly I'm here just to clear out my mother's things."
"I would still be honored to assist you in any way I can. Have you planned services for her yet?
"Tomorrow at sunrise, outside the east gate. Then she'll be interred in a crypt in the cemetery."
"I will be there," Zariel assured him. "I don't know if this will bring you any peace, but her killer was brought to justice this morning."
"Oh?" he asked listlessly.
Copper asked, "Who was it?"
Zariel said, "As we suspected, it was Malari Janus, the head of the local Aurilites."
The gnome nodded thoughtfully. "And when you say 'brought to justice', what do you mean?"
"We went with Sheriff Southwell to question him. When his guilt became clear, he would not surrender peacefully. He and three of his followers will be joining Mishann in the cemetery. Another has been arrested; I do not know what fate the sheriff has planned for him."
Copper breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I'm glad that's over." Jakob, on the other hand, seemed too deep in grief to react to the news either way.
Zariel said to him, "Please allow us to help you repair the damage." She looked at the others. "I mean to say that I will stay and help. I understand the rest of you may have your own business."
Bjarnson stepped forward. "I'll help. I know wood."
Eberic said, "And I know stone."
Dejen said, "I can do small repairs like hinges and latches."
They turned to Pariah, who didn't have any particular crafting skills and doubted they needed any locks picked. She shrugged, "I can take orders."
They spent the rest of the afternoon doing the best they could, not so much to repair the damage as to protect the building from the elements. They removed the door, the shutters, and the broken windows. They cleared out the last of the debris from inside.
Unfortunately, replacing the damaged pieces would be difficult. Wood was in short supply, and lumber even more so. Glass wasn't hard to get, and there was a glazier in town, but again the lack of wood was a problem. When the window at the White Lady had broken, it had been only the panes. Those could easily be replaced. These windows had been smashed, the frames broken, so would be harder to fix.
Pariah suggested raiding some of the abandoned houses but Copper dismissed that idea. First, these houses were abandoned but still owned by someone and that would be theft. Pariah kept a straight face as he told her that. He admitted that some houses had been raided for wood, but only the furniture. There was a social taboo about taking the doors and windows, so the houses stood dark and cold, but still ready to be re-inhabited if their owners returned.
However, there were carpenters in Easthaven, and a limited lumber industry. She mentioned that it looked like they'd be heading that way and suggested that they could order the new pieces.
Zariel and Jakob spent a lot of time in Mishann's room as she helped him pack up his mother's things. Pariah glanced back there now and then and noticed that sometimes they just sat on her bed and talked. Zariel seemed to be offering words of comfort, and Pariah was glad to see her taking an interest in helping a mortal deal with his grief.
Bjarnson was able to use the various broken boards to cobble together a decent enough door. It didn't seal completely and whistled in the wind, but it would suffice for now. They hung furs over the window openings. The place wouldn't hold heat very well, but it would keep out the blowing snow. Their work was made more challenging when the sky spat marble-sized hail for about a half hour, but the storm let up and they continued.
During this process, they made several trips back to the Northlook for tools, and to Blackiron Blades for what supplies they had. They traveled in twos and threes, carefully watching for any Aurilite retaliation, but no incidents occurred. Pariah noticed Dejen disappeared off on his own at one point, and she worried about him but knew he was probably updating Beldora. She breathed in relief when he returned safe.
It was late evening by the time they were done. They all headed back to the Northlook for supper including Jakob, who was staying at the inn, and Copper, who agreed to join them for the meal. Zariel was sporting a new -- well a used and beat up -- pair of vambraces that bore the twelve-pointed star symbol of Amaunator. They were a gift from Jakob who said they had a mild protection blessing. He had planned to sell them, but was happy to give them to a fellow sun worshiper.
He retired to his room as soon as he was done eating, thanking them again for their help that day. Copper also headed off, refusing their offer to escort him back home. He assured them that he was never a target of the Aurilites.
The rest of the group talked a bit about their plans to visit Easthaven. Jakob had given Zariel some money for the door, shutters and windows and she promised that they'd see them safely back to Copper and help him install them.
Zariel and Pariah turned in not too long after Jakob, both still aching from the combat earlier that day. Lulu went back to Mount Celestia for the night. Pariah sat up to journal and read a bit more of her Dethek book, but didn't stay up very late. The wind was quiet outside as she drifted off to sleep.
Flamerule 1, 1496 (Full Moon)
Two things surprised Pariah about Mishann's funeral.
The first was how large the gathering was. She estimated close to a hundred people congregated in the road outside the East Gate. It helped that the wind was fairly quiet and the meager light of dawn made the atmosphere less oppressive, but it was still bitter cold as usual. That hadn't stopped residents from bundling up to attend the service. Certainly there hadn't been this many people during Mishann's morning prayers each day. However, apparently the sheriff had been correct that she had been well liked among the residents. Pariah wondered if people had come in from the surrounding towns.
The second thing that surprised her was the number of town guards. They lined the wall that looked out over the road. A squad stood on each side of the open gate, giving hard looks to the people who passed through on their way to the service. And a contingent led by the sheriff was scattered around the edge of the crowd, watching the people rather than watching the service. Southwell was clearly taking no chances that the Aurilites might choose this moment to strike.
The service was led by Gregor Tyrlylth, the cemetery keeper. He was a half-elf with ruddy skin, a thick, russet beard, and a pair of squared, tinted glasses. Mishann's body, wrapped in cloth, was laid out on a platform. The keeper's high-pitched voice carried clearly across the crowd as he gave a fairly generic eulogy, the text of which probably included a blank space labeled "insert name of god here". He added some personal observations about Mishann at the end, and his voice became less rote as he did.
The keeper asked if anyone wanted to speak, and a few people did, telling stories of her life. Jakob talked about her but had to step away as he became overwhelmed with emotion. Zariel spoke briefly and then said a prayer to Amaunator. Pariah was still confused about the relationship between Amaunator and Lathander, and wasn't sure if Zariel was addressing the god directly or saying a prayer to Lathander and changing his name.
The service lasted about an hour, and by then even Pariah was feeling the chill creeping into her clothing. Tyrlylth said a few last words to the crowd before they dispersed.
Pariah and her companions accompanied the body to the cemetery, mostly out of concern that the Aurilites would do something. Southwell and four soldiers went along as well. Most of the mourners returned to their homes.
The trip turned out to be uneventful. The procession brought Mishann in through the gate and then turned towards the southern part of town. The cemetery turned out to be a block of houses that had been converted into crypts. Tyrlylth explained that the main cemetery was under several feet of snow. These abandoned houses had been seized by the city and fortified to create secure burial chambers. It was meant to be a temporary measure, though nobody really believed this winter was ever going to end.
Pariah got a glance inside the house they carried Mishann into and saw the interior had been gutted and filled with racks of shelves made of brick. Dozens of wrapped bodies were laid out on the shelves, each with a brass plaque mounted beneath. Individual graves or coffins seemed to be a luxury the town could not afford. Pariah couldn't help wondering of the bodies of the Aurilites would be interred in the same crypt; she hoped not.
Once Mishann was laid to rest, the group began to break up. Jakob endured a final round of condolences as he stood there glassily, probably not even hearing the words of comfort spoken. Zariel promised to visit if she was ever in Targos and he nodded automatically, looking at her but not really seeing her.
Finally, they broke off and headed toward the kennel to get their sleds and dog teams. There was still weak daylight as they took the sleds out, around the southern wall to the Eastway, and started their trip back to Easthaven.
Notes:
This chapter is fast-forwarding through the plot, but I didn't want to dawdle too much here. If I'd focused on every conversation and scene, this would have been chapter after chapter of people yammering. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it can get a little ponderous, especially for a side quest I shoved in there for Zariel's character development. This story is already the length of two novels, and I haven't finished even the first of the seven sections of the module!
My story is pushing them to go to Termalaine for a couple of reasons, not the least of which for Eberic to stop in at home, but I needed them to go to Easthaven first for module reasons. The threat of the duergar helped make that decision seem reasonable, but then the idea of ordering doors and shutters from the carpenter there came up and that sealed it. Don't worry; you'll meet Eberic's wife eventually.
Zariel's vambraces are a guardian emblem from Tasha's. The wearer can use a reaction to nullify a critical hit on an ally within 30 feet three times per day.
I added the cemetery. Currently there isn't one listed either in or around Bryn Shander. I figured that having one outside the walls would be problematic due to the deep snow, so I added a makeshift one inside town.
Chapter 49: Whispers in Easthaven
Summary:
After Mishann's funeral, the party makes their way east to investigate the duergar incursion in Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 1, 1496 (Full Moon)
The trip from Bryn Shander to Easthaven was uneventful, despite the usual heavy winds. They dropped their sleds and dogs at the kennel, and then stopped at a carpenter to put in the order for the House of the Morninglord. The carpenter said it would take two to three weeks to complete, but Jakob had included the cost of delivery to Bryn Shander.
After checking in at The White Lady Inn, they headed through the lamp-lit streets towards the barracks. As they walked Pariah mused that during their first visit an imminent execution had hung over the town, and on their second they were transporting a frozen corpse. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of macabre detail would color their Easthaven experience this time.
The guard on duty in the mud room this time was a muscular woman with short, chestnut hair, who wore a black armband over her leather armor. Zariel took the lead for the group, asking, "Is Captain Arlaggath available?"
"She's in her office," the woman answered, jerking a thumb down the hall behind her. "Last door on the left."
Bjarnson said, "I think I'll wait here. It's a little crowded with all of us."
"Me too," said Eberic.
Pariah debated about staying out with them, but wanted to hear what the captain said. She settled for lagging back behind Zariel, Lulu and Dejen as they made their way down the corridor to the captain's office.
Zariel turned through the doorway at the end of the hall. "Good evening, captain," came her voice. "I was wondering if you'd made any progress finding the duergar since our last visit."
Pariah peered around the door frame to see the familiar small space with a desk, chair, shelves and stove. Captain Arlaggath was perched on the edge of her desk talking to a forty-something human man who was puffing on a pipe. Both of them held steaming mugs that, from the smell, probably held coffee.
"I'm afraid not," she said. "We've searched the empty buildings as best we can, and patrols check the ferry at least twice a day. We've questioned Scython and he was as mystified as anyone about people squatting in the ferry." Pariah remembered that Scython was the ferry master. "We've had some thefts, a few reports of mysterious figures lurking in the dark, but nothing concrete."
Dejen asked, "I believe you said some fishers were missing. Any more since?"
The captain scowled. "One went out to look for the ones who were missing, headed for their usual fishing spot; he never came back. I don't have enough soldiers to send anyone after him."
Zariel turned to the others and said, "I can't help but wonder if the two incidents are related. Perhaps the missing people stumbled across the duergar hideout. We should do our own investigation. It would be to everyone's best interest if we could root out any duergar."
Arlaggath said, "Certainly any information you find would be appreciated, but there's no bounty, if that's what you're looking for."
"Of course not," Zariel said in an offended tone. "We would be happy to help regardless of reward."
"Speak for yourself," Pariah mumbled, but the words came out louder than she had meant them too. Everyone turned to look at her, and Zariel frowned. Quickly the tiefling added, "I'm kidding. Mostly. I'm willing to go look for the fishing crews. It just never hurts to ask for a reward."
The pipe-smoking man said to the captain, "You could always offer them the wizard's stuff."
"True," Arlaggath said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure there's much there, though. Certainly nothing like legendary magical items, if that's what your looking for. A couple sets of ratty clothes, traveling equipment, some books and scrolls, and so on."
"Books?" Pariah perked up.
Arlaggath was surprised by her enthusiasm, but said, "Yeah. Even I know a book of spells when I see one. A couple about magical theories, an atlas of Icewind Dale, and a couple more I couldn't make heads nor tails of. I doubt any family is going to show up from Luskan to claim it. You can have the lot if you can find out what happened to them. Live people would be ideal of course, bodies less so, but even just news of their fates would give people some closure."
"He was from Luskan?" Dejen interjected. "Was he a member of the Arcane Brotherhood?"
She nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Good riddance to him. We've had those Luskan bastards sniffing around since the Sundering, though Oghma only knows why they are so interested in the area."
"There are more here?"
She nodded again. "There's one cooling his heels in Revel's End for the next couple of decades. Then there's some albino tiefling, and a woman running around with zombie kobolds. I'm pretty sure there's one or two more as well."
Dejen made a thoughtful noise. "That's an awful lot of them for an area as small as Ten-Towns."
"Exactly my point," she agreed.
Pariah didn't know a whole lot about the Arcane Brotherhood, other than they were a bunch of evil wizards from the northern part of the Sword Coast. The fact they had already met three of them in the two weeks they'd been in Icewind Dale bothered her.
Zariel asked, "Can you give us an idea of where to search for the missing people?"
The captain glanced down at the man with the pipe, who puffed thoughtfully as his eyes scanned the group. "If it's just the three of you-" he began.
"Four," Lulu said.
Pariah added, "And there's two more of us outside."
He grunted. "I was going to say you could rent a rowboat, but that many people means you need a skiff. Do any of you have sailing experience?"
Pariah, Dejen and Zariel all looked blank. Pariah realized they had left the two locals down the hall. "Lulu, could you go ask Eberic and Bjarnson if they can sail?"
"Sure," she said, darting down the hall.
The captain pulled a map out from her desk and unrolled it. Zariel and Dejen bent over it; Pariah stayed back since the room was too small for her to crowd in. "Here," Arlaggath said, tapping a point. "This is where the original group usually went fishing, and this is where Karsten went to look for them."
The name tickled something in Pariah's brain, and she remembered the man who had been at the séance. "Karsten. Human? Brown hair? About this tall? Wears a wide-brimmed hat?"
Arlaggath had looked up when she spoke. "That's him."
Pariah just nodded in return. "I've met him," she said. Somehow the fact she had even such a brief meeting with one of the people who had disappeared made it feel more personal.
Lulu came back in and said, "No, they don't know how to pilot a skiff."
The captain looked at the man and said pointedly, "Then they'll need a guide."
He grimaced. "No," he said firmly.
She looked disappointed. "I could make it an order, lieutenant."
"Are you?" he asked.
Arlaggath hesitated and then sighed, "No. Civra would kill me if something happened to you."
He gave her a smug look and then mused, "Lots of people know the lake, but not a lot are likely to agree to look for them. There are already stories about lake monsters and Auril taking sacrifices."
"And duergar kidnappings," Pariah offered.
"That's the newest one," he nodded. "Regardless, you need someone who knows the lake, can pilot a skiff, and is brave or dumb enough to go along." He looked at the captain. "Scython might do it."
"That's what I was thinking," she nodded.
"And where do we find him?" Zariel asked.
"Since the ferry's down, he spends most of his time at the Wet Trout. Head north to the docks, turn right, and listen for the loudest tavern in a hundred miles. If he's not there, Nymetra the owner will know where to find him."
"Well then," Zariel said, moving towards the door, "if there is nothing else, then I suppose the tavern is our next stop. With luck we can leave in the morning."
They headed back to the mudroom to fill in Eberic and Bjarnson. The two of them agreed with the plan to search for the missing fishers, both because it might lead them to the duergar and for the sake of the families left behind. In addition, Bjarnson pointed out that if the fishing fleet got too scared to go out on the lake, it would quickly become a serious food problem for the town.
They exited the barracks and headed north, as the captain had instructed, until they got to the docks and then they turned right. The bright full moon had just started to peek over the Reghed Glacier to the east. As they passed a boarded-up tavern called "The Big Fat Knucklehead", they could hear the noise of revelry from further ahead.
Soon they came across a wide building made of timber and brick with the usual steeply pitched roof common to Icewind Dale buildings. Gray smoke poured out of a massive chimney in the center of the roof. Crates were stacked against one side though, from the amount of snow covering them, they had been there a while. The sign proclaimed the building was "The Wet Trout", and next to the name was a painting of a forlorn looking fish standing in a rainstorm holding a broken umbrella in one fin. Light spilled out of bottle glass windows that were uncovered by shutters, as did roaring voices and the sound of music. The glass was too thick and distorted to see anything other than moving shadows from inside.
If the noise had seemed loud from the street, it was deafening once Pariah opened the door. She winced as the sound of revelry crashed across her. The entrance wasn't more than a wide corridor that led into common rooms left and right. Although most of the walls were wood, the one in front of them was made of mortared fieldstone. From its location, she guessed this was part of the chimney. Dozens of iron hooks were bolted into the stone, and fur coats and cloaks hung from most of them. Music came from both rooms and the two crowds seemed to be trying to out-sing each other. The clash of two different songs created an overwhelming cacophony in the entry.
At the far end of the room to the left was a bar staffed by a white dragonborn woman. Pariah immediately noticed she wore the six-pointed snowflake symbol of Auril, and another such symbol was nailed to the wall behind her. To the right was an open kitchen where a white-haired human woman wearing an apron over dark clothes was working feverishly. Pariah turned to the right.
Zariel, yelling to be heard over the noise, said, "Wouldn't the person behind the bar be more likely to be the owner?"
Pariah nodded in the barkeep's direction and then tapped her collarbone where it met her sternum. Zariel cast a puzzled look in the dragonborn's direction and the, after spotting the Aurilite symbol, turned back to her with a knowing nod. Pariah continued into the common room on the right.
A hearth was sunk into the wall and a roaring fire spilled heat into the room. A small trio stood on a stage next to the kitchen, playing a lute, concertina and drum while leading the room in a loud tavern song that was apparently about what the crowd would do for a drink. Someone would shout out something like, "I'd shave my dog," and the crowd would sing:
I'd shave my dog for a drink of rum
I'd shave my dog for a drink of rum
I'd shave my dog for a drink of rum
And regret all the next day.
Then someone else would shout a lyric, most of them more ribald than that, and the singing would continue. It seemed like a song that could go on forever.
The cook was clearly busy. Pariah flagged down a passing barmaid and shouted, "We are looking for Scython. Is he here?"
She pointed to one of the larger tables where a half-dozen people sat. Pariah's brow furrowed when she realized one of them was a tiefling with the pale skin and thin horns of the Levistus bloodline. Dreading the answer, she asked, "Which one is he?"
"The one with the horns," the barmaid shouted back.
Pariah nodded resignedly. He had a jagged scar along his temple, curly gray hair that still had hints of its original brown, and he was waving in time to the music with a mug held in thick fingers. His black leather coat was open enough that she could see he was not wearing either a six-pointed snowflake or a sword pendant made of black chardalyn, which made her feel a little less suspicious.
It would be impossible for all of them to go see Scython, so she pointed to an empty table and said, "Five meads when you get a chance." She wasn't sure that's what everyone wanted, but it would be a start. She was starting to get hungry so she'd suggest they stay for supper, assuming the noise didn't bother the rest of them.
The barmaid winked at her and headed to the kitchen to shout an order at the cook. Pariah turned to the rest and said, "Let's sit over there. I ordered drinks. I'll go talk to Scython and see if he's willing to take us out on the lake."
Zariel and Dejen seemed a little dazed by the spectacle, though the others seemed fine. The group weaved through the crowded tables while Pariah made her way over to the ferryman. As they finished up a stanza about kissing a troll, she leaned down to shout into his ear. "Are you Scython the ferryman?"
He looked up at her and a hint of surprise showed on his face, followed by a frown. "Ferry's closed," he yelled back and took a drink.
She gave him a sardonic grin. "I know. Captain Arlaggath wants us to go look for the missing fishers. She said you know the lake and could pilot us out there."
He looked her up and down. Her cloak was open and his eyes darted to her armor, her weapon, and the scars on her hands. He also seemed to glance at her throat, and she wondered if he was looking for a black pendant. "Who's 'us'?" he asked.
Pariah pointed to the table where her companions were watching the conversation, though of course they wouldn't be able to hear any of it. They all wore suspicious looks and Zariel raised inquisitive eyebrows at her. Pariah ignored her and said, "Five of us. Plus a tiny angel."
His frown deepened and he took a deep pull on his drink. "And you're looking for the fishers?"
"Yes," she replied.
"You know there's stories about what happened to them."
"Yeah, I know," she said, growing impatient. "That's what we want to find out."
He continued to study her silently. His eyes darted down to her throat again. She said, "I'm not from Caer-Dineval, if that's what you're worried about."
Her comment surprised him, and he looked a little embarrassed, like he'd been caught at something. "A lot of us there, I hear."
She nodded. "There are. I was there."
"Something fishy going on I wager," he said pointedly.
Playfully she replied, "You're saying it's fishy when a bunch of tieflings gather? That's pretty racist."
He paused and then chuckled. "All right, that's fair."
"But yes, I think something fishy is going on there," she added, surprised the geas let her say that much "That's got nothing to do with this." That wasn't completely true, but the connection wasn't important to this conversation.
He took another drink, though he seemed more relaxed than before. "What do you expect to find out there? I've heard some kind of lake monster."
She raised an eyebrow. "How many years have you been running the ferry on Lac Dinneshire?"
"Seven."
"Have you seen a lake monster before?"
"Well, no," he admitted. "But that doesn't answer my question: what do you expect to find?"
She looked at Scython's table companions, but none of them seemed to be monitoring the conversation. They were still singing the same song, currently in about its thousandth verse. She said, "Duergar. They've been seen all along the coast of the lake. But I guess you heard about that; we are the ones who alerted the captain that they were camped out on your ferry."
"Are you?" he said, though he didn't actually seem surprised by the revelation. He had apparently already put it together in his head. "I have to admit, I'd like to catch up to those gray dwarves. They trashed my boat."
She shrugged. "Well, here's the opportunity. We think they may be hiding out along the lake, and snatched the fishers when they were discovered." Again, that was a lie. She had no idea what they were going to find, but figured playing on his desire for retribution might help.
He said, "Two dragons per day. Leave at sunrise, back by sunset."
That meant only four hours out on the lake. "You know their fishing spot?" she asked as she pulled two gold coins from her pouch. He nodded, so she said, "How far away is it?"
"About an hour."
"That doesn't leave us much time to search for them," she said. "Maybe we could leave an hour before sunrise. We have magical light sources."
He debated and then said, "Fine. Hour before sunrise. Meet me tomorrow morning at the ferry. We'll hike out to the launch point from there."
She put the gold on the table, and then reached out a hand and he shook it. He added, "And I just pilot the boat. Any monsters or duergar, that's your problem."
"Fair enough," she said. "See you in the morning then."
She joined the others at the table. Their drinks weren't there yet, but the barmaid looked pretty busy so that wasn't surprising. Pariah couldn't help but wonder if the tavern was this full of activity every night. It was certainly busier than the White Lady.
To their inquisitive looks she said, "He'll take us tomorrow. We're to meet him at the ferry an hour before sunrise. He'll take us out but doesn't want to stay out after dark."
The others exchanged glances. Dejen said hesitantly, "We couldn't help but notice that he's a..."
Pariah gave him a very innocent look. "A what?" Dejen started to stammer, and Pariah let him off the hook by laughing. "Yes, I noticed. He wasn't wearing the black sword pendant, and he seemed just as suspicious of me as I was of him. I don't think he's one of them."
"I suppose," Zariel said reluctantly.
Pariah added, "And I told him we are looking for the duergar, so even if he is secretly one of them, we're doing what they want."
Bjarnson asked, "Then you trust him?"
"Oh, gods no. I don't know him. I just don't have any strong reason to mistrust him. And even if we find someone else who's willing to brave a potentially dangerous trip to look for missing people, whose to say that person will be honest?"
Nobody seemed completely satisfied with that answer, but nobody objected either. She said, "So, do we want to try the food here, or go back to the White Lady?"
Notes:
A lot of the details about the Wet Trout were filled in by me. The basic design and the name of the proprietor were about the only information I could find about it. The song was kind of a mix of "Drunken Sailor" and "Nelson's Blood", where each stanza is some new activity loosely related to the theme.
Scython being a tiefling is in the module. I debated about making him something else, but I figure there should be a few outside of Caer-Dineval. I did make him a Levistus tiefling, since their (house-ruled) cold resistance makes them perfect inhabitants of Icewind Dale.
Chapter 50: A Hopeless Search
Summary:
The group investigates missing Easthaven fishing crews, hoping to find evidence that the duergar are behind the disappearances.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 2, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
The sky was clear and bright with stars as they made their way along the lakeside road towards the icebound ferry. The moon had set a couple of hours ago and dawn was still an hour away, but there was enough lamplight to illuminate the coast. They could see boats out on the water past the ice sheet, fishers who braved the icy waters every day to catch knucklehead trout or other fish.
A bundled up figure leaned against the wall by one of the buildings near the ferry. He turned as they neared to reveal he was Scython, chewing on a stick of dried meat. He straightened up and said, "Is this everyone?"
"Yes," Pariah replied.
"Well, then let's go." He started marching down the pier towards the ferry.
For a moment Pariah was confused. Obviously they weren't going to take the ferry. Not only was the boat completely trapped in the ice, even the dock was crooked from the pressure of the freeze. They had to be careful not to stumble on the slick, uneven surface of the pier. However, he walked right past the boat and continued towards the end of the dock where he climbed a ladder that led down to the surface of the ice itself.
They followed suit, and then Dejen rushed forward to walk next to Scython as he struck out across the ice. "We were talking last night and I'm trying to understand how we are going to get out on the open water. At first I thought it was a matter of just dragging a boat across the ice, but then I realized the ice by the water would be dangerously thin. That’s not what we are doing, right?" His voice sounded nervous.
Scython said, "Yes and no. People do drag their boats across the ice, and some are fool enough to go right to the edge. However, we are headed to Jetty Island." He pointed out across the lake towards a small patch of forested land out in the lake. "Technically it's called Pela Island, but we've taken to calling it Jetty because that's where most of the ships launch from. There's a thermal vent on the far side so the water doesn't freeze, but the ice leading up to it on this side is firm. People with smaller boats drag 'em back and forth from town. Bigger boats like mine are stored on the island itself, and the really big fishing boats moor offshore."
Upon a more careful look, Pariah realized what she had thought were trees were actually masts. She had been a little nervous about hiking across the ice, but it felt firm as stone beneath her boots, and Scython was striding forth without any worries. After about a half mile, they were close enough to the island to see a number of boats had been carried up onto land. Judging by the thickness of the snow, some obviously had been used more recently than others. The island itself was a couple of hundred feet across. Two fishers were currently carrying a rowboat towards the open water and getting ready to launch it. She didn't see any bigger boats nearby, but it made sense that the fishing fleets would already be out on the lake.
"Here she is," Scython said proudly as they reached one of the craft.
Since Baldur's Gate was a coastal city, Pariah knew a little about boats, at least enough to know fore from aft, though she still got confused about port vs. starboard. This boat had a shallow, flat-bottomed hull and a single mast towards the sharp-pointed bow. The sail was currently down of course, but ice-bound lines ran back to a seat by the rudder at the stern; that was where the pilot would sit. A bench ran along either edge inside and would easily seat the five of them. It was a simple, open design that would offer no protection should a storm blow in.
"Let's get her ready," Scython commanded. "Brush the snow off. Break the ice off the lines. Let's go! Let's go!"
They tossed their packs aboard and got to work. It didn't take them long to get the worst of the ice and snow off, and then they lifted the vessel and started walking towards the shore. It reminded Pariah grimly of the pallbearers carrying Mishann's body through the streets of Bryn Shander. He ordered them to lay the boat down with just the front half in the water. They climbed aboard while he stood behind it. He strained to push it into the water and then jumped aboard at the last second. He raised the four-cornered sail and, with one hand on the line and one hand on the rudder, guided the boat out into the dark waters of Lac Dinneshire.
The weather stayed clear and calm, which was both a blessing and a curse. The open design of the boat would have been miserable with an icy wind blowing, but sailboats need wind to move. Scython was happy to explain how he was able to keep the boat in motion, though a lot of the jargon went over Pariah's head. It seemed to involve using the current along the edge of the ice sheet to generate momentum to create wind across the sails, plus watching the water for changes that indicated an incoming puff of breeze and gently maneuvering the rudder to take advantage of the little extra air movement. Occasional ice floes made the trip a little more treacherous, but Scython was good at avoiding them. Progress was slow, but it was still progress so they couldn't really do anything but wait.
Daylight dawned behind the glacier to the east. In the dim light, they spotted about a half-dozen figures walking along the base of the hills on shore. Pariah didn't think much about it, but Bjarnson pointed them out to Scython and asked, "Do you think they are going to raid Easthaven?"
The sailor glanced over at the group and then shook his head before turning his attention back to the water. "Nope. They might prey on random travelers, but they wouldn't attack a town."
Pariah was confused by the conversation. "What makes you think they are raiders rather than hunters?"
Bjarnson tapped the furs over his ear. "Listen. Do you hear that?"
She pulled back her hood. She could hear the water and the creak of wood, but also the distant sound of laughter-like yipping. "Yeah. Gnolls?"
He nodded.
Scython said, "There's a pack of them in the mountains in a place that locals have started to call the Cackling Chasm. They arrived a few years back and use to be more of a problem, though they were never so bold as to attack the towns. Since the Rime started, their numbers have dwindled from starvation. There isn't much game, and they aren't the type to trade."
Bjarnson looked towards the gnoll raiders. "It's more than that. They are cannibals and, in the absence of a food source, they are feeding on each other. Plus there are no hyenas here, so they can't breed."
Dejen said in horror, "I'm sorry but what? What do hyenas have to do with their breeding cycle."
The big man smirked and said, "Oh, it's worse than you are imagining. I don't know all of their history, but as I understand it the race was created by a demon. Each pack has a priest of the demon. When the priest kills someone, the pack's hyenas feast on the remains and turn into adult gnolls. Since they have no hyenas to eat their kills, they can't make more gnolls."
The group silently processed that information. "Yeenoghu," Pariah said. "It was the demon lord Yeenoghu." She remembered seeing him in Lulu's vision. As she remembered his role in the Charge of the Hellriders, she realized that perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut rather than probing an old wound. She glanced at Zariel.
The woman said grimly, "Yet another example of the pervasive corruption of the Abyss and why all demons and their progeny should be slaughtered." Her fists were clenched and Pariah could feel the anger radiating off of her. She suddenly wondered what would happen if Zariel lost control and radiated that field of burning energy while they were all trapped on a very small boat together.
Lulu, who was sitting next to her, said gently, "Zariel," and then added something in Enochian.
Zariel took a deep breath and released it slowly. In a calmer tone, she replied to Lulu in the same language. To the rest of the group, she added, "I suppose that is a task for another time, though. We have our priorities right now."
Eberic said, "One person can't take on all the evils in the world."
"One person can try!" she snapped, and then took another calming breath. "Forgive me. You are, of course, correct. I used to have more...resources at my disposal. Taking on all the evils in the mortal world wasn't as far-fetched as you might think. But I must accept my current limitations."
Pariah winced at the word "mortal". They both needed to stop using that word so casually.
"Limitations?" Dejen said in surprise. "You are easily the most capable warrior in the group."
"That's not really saying-" She broke off with a slightly embarrassed expression. After a moment she said, "Thank you. I am only a vessel of the glory of Lathander. I act in the hope of pleasing him."
The boat continued to slip quietly through the water into the weak light of the morning, leaving the pack of gnolls behind.
"Here we are," Scython announced as they sailed into a part of the lake that looked like every other part to Pariah. The wind was still calm, and a bank of mist could be seen further down the lake.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"The smaller fishing crews have staked out various spots. Nothing official or legal. Mostly it's just courtesy that keeps people from fishing in other people's spots. Well, and it's a good way to get a fishing spear in your chest. The point is, we know each others' spots so we know where to stay away from."
Pariah looked around and didn't see much other than open water, a few small ice floes, and a sheet of ice leading to a cliff to their right. To the left were a couple of rocky islands. "Could they have taken refuge on those islands for some reason?"
"It's a possibility," he said as he turned the boat in that direction. "It'd be certain death though."
Unless Levistus reached out to you, she thought to herself.
Dejen pointed towards the cliff. "Why wouldn't they turn towards land?"
"They might," Scython admitted, "but that's a gamble too. Ice at the edge is going to be thin and weak. You might risk it if your boat sprung a leak and you are about to get dumped in the water anyhow, but then what? That ridge would be a tough climb, and it goes for about a mile each direction. The local currents make the ice pretty unstable." He took his eyes off the water to give the group a hard look. "Let's be clear. This is unlikely to be a rescue. It's almost certain this trip is corpse recovery. I hope you all understood that before you came out."
Pariah hadn't thought about that, though now that he said it out loud, she admitted that seemed likely. Surviving on a bare patch of rock in the middle of a frozen lake for days seemed impossible. The fishers wouldn't have brought much more than a day's food. However, she couldn't help but hope.
Bjarnson took a deep breath and bellowed, "Hello!" out across the water. "Is anybody out there?"
The air was still and his voice must have carried far. They all listened, hoping to hear a voice, but there was nothing but the lapping of the waves and the creaking of the boat and the nearby ice sheet. Bjarnson removed a glove and said, "Fire, come to me." A flame appeared in his hand and he sent it shooting into the air in the direction of the two islands. "Hello!" he shouted again, but there still was no answer.
Eberic said, "If they'd fallen overboard, how far would their boat have drifted?"
Scython looked to the north where the fog bank was getting closer, and he said, "Probably several miles. It might have gotten hung up on a floe, but probably wouldn't have washed up on shore."
Dejen asked, "But if they are experienced fishers, would they have fallen overboard?"
The ferryman said, "It gets cold out here, and it's common for people to warm themselves with a little mead. A few warm themselves with a lot of mead. And knucklebone trout are strong. They can pull you in even with your wits about you. But I can't imagine that happening to all four, and that wouldn't have been the case with Karsten."
"You knew him?" Pariah asked.
"I knew all of them," he said grimly.
"I guess I never asked -- what do you think happened to them?"
He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I don't believe the sea serpent stories; I'd know if something like that lived in the lake. I don't believe they fell overboard. Piracy is mostly dead in these waters since the Rime, and who'd rob a couple of rowboats anyhow?" He frowned. "Something unnatural I'd wager."
Pariah couldn't help but agree.
"There!" Dejen yelled out. He wasn't looking towards the islands; he was pointing back to the shore. There was a frozen cove formed where the cliff turned sharply from the edge of the water. Three boats were pulled up on the ice sheet. The ice went right to the base of the cliff, the face of which was dotted with four dark caves. "Maybe they sheltered in there," Pariah said.
"But why?" Scython asked as he turned the skiff in that direction. "I can't believe all three boats are damaged. Why stop there instead of just coming back to town?"
"I suppose we are about to find out," she said.
As they got near, Scython turned to pilot the boat parallel to the ice sheet. He slowed to a halt and inspected the ice critically. The sheet was bluish and over a handspan thick. He grabbed a boat hook that lay on the floor of the craft and swung it overhand, sinking the hook into the ice. Rather than pulling the boat closer, he studied the ice where the hook had dug in and grunted again.
"Problem?" Pariah asked in confusion.
"No, it's just strange. The ice sheet shouldn't be this thick here."
Bjarnson opined, "Maybe it's just a warm current running next to a cold current or something like that."
"Maybe," Scython said skeptically. "But it's safe, I guess that's what matters." He pulled on the hook, drawing the boat closer. "One or two of you jump off and pull the boat up on the ice."
Eberic and Zariel did the honors, though Zariel stumbled to get her footing on the ice. They heaved the bow up far enough for the others to get out, and then they started dragging the boat out of the water.
Pariah wasn't very strong and figured she'd just get in the way of the others while they heaved, so she ambled over to check out the other boats. The ice surface was rough and not too slippery, though she still had to be careful. The three rowboats were each about half as long as their skiff. Bench seats would comfortably seat two passengers or four in a pinch. Two of the boats were outfitted in the same way: a pair of oars, a pair of fishing tackle boxes and rods, a small jug. There were also a total of five knucklehead trout, all frozen solid. Pariah popped the cork off one of the jugs and sniffed. Mead. She sloshed the contents and estimated it was about a quarter full. The third boat held nothing more than a pair of oars.
"Find anything?" Scython asked.
She shook her head. "Fishing gear and alcohol. The boats aren't damaged and no blood." She looked at the dusting of snow covering the ice sheet. There was no obvious trail, but there really wasn't anywhere else they could have gone other than the cliff ahead. Each of the four cave openings was thirty to fifty feet tall. Two on the left were about a thirty-foot climb up the rock face. It looked like there were plenty of handholds and the climb probably wouldn't be too difficult, but that wouldn’t be her first choice. The third opening was only about twenty feet up and there was a steep but navigable slope leading up to it. The rightmost cave was at ground level and the ice led into it. She guessed it had been the mouth of a river before the freeze.
She pointed to the latter cave. "That seems like the most likely place they went."
"I wonder why," Scython mused.
Pariah mulled that idea over herself. "What do you know about these caves?"
"Well," he said slowly, "rumor is they're haunted, but that's just because the wind moans inside of them. I don't really believe they are. The frost giants used to use the caves for some ritual, but that was decades ago. There might be yeti or winter wolves, something like that."
The cave mouths certainly seemed big enough for giants. Pariah walked back to the skiff to get her shield and bow. "But, like you said, why would they go in there?" She didn't need her whole pack but took her thieves' tools, hand axe and crowbar. Anything else they could come back for.
As the others geared up, Scython said, "Reminder: I'm just the pilot. If you aren't out by dark, I leave." He looked to the north and added, "And I don't like the look of that fog bank. If the mist rolls in, we might have to leave early. I'll yell for you, but I'm not coming in to rescue you."
Bjarnson said, "It shouldn't take us long. If they are there, I wouldn't think they would have gone too deep into the tunnels. And even if they did, it shouldn't take us long to search the place."
"Depends on what we find," Pariah said drily.
Lulu piped up, "I can always run messages back and forth if we need to."
Dejen said hesitantly, "If we had to, I mean just for argument's sake, but if we had to leave quickly, how long would it take to get the boat in the water?"
Scython smirked. "Just as long as it takes to shove it in. If I see you come running out, I'll have the boat in the water by the time you get here. Jump in, and we're off."
That didn't seem to make Dejen feel that much better. Pariah was thinking that the skiff wasn't that fast, and anything chasing them might be able to swim. However, they'd just have to see what they could see.
Zariel said firmly, "Well, the day is getting shorter. Let's head out."
She led the way, sword and shield at the ready. Pariah and Eberic flanked her, Pariah's shield lit up by Lulu's magic. Pariah kept her saber sheathed so she could get to her chardalyn focus or her bow as needed. Bjarnson and Dejen brought up the rear, the latter with his lantern out. Lulu turned herself invisible and circled around the group; Pariah could hear her wings.
They had to move slowly across the ice; only Bjarnson had crampons to make walking on the slick surface easier. As they neared the caves, they could hear a moaning from within. The wind howled through the tunnels and each opening seemed to be wailing like a vengeful spirit. It made the hairs on Pariah's neck stand up and she found herself wanting to head back to the boat. That just made it more mysterious that the missing fishers had apparently come in here.
The snow ahead was illuminated by the bluish light of Zariel's sword and the yellow light of Pariah's shield. As the edge of the illumination reached the cave, a greenish tinge colored the area. She heard Dejen say something, but she couldn't make it out over the wailing of the wind.
Pariah started to turn to him, but then another sound cut through the moaning. It was the angelic voice of a woman, singing a mysterious but beautiful song. No, it was two women, singing in harmony. There were no words, but the melody wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Her fear and anxiety drifted away. This wasn't a dangerous place; it was an enchanted land of peace. Nothing but good fortune waited for them ahead. As a beatific smile spread across her face, Pariah rushed forward into the welcoming darkness of the cave.
Notes:
So, I'll bet you think you've seen me say there is a duergar prisoner in Bryn Shander, in that little single cell in the sheriff's office. Well, you must be mistaken because the party left that prisoner in Easthaven. In fact, if you go back, you'll see no mention of him so clearly you are just imagining that. I would never make such a huge and obvious mistake.
But seriously, I keep mixing up events in those two towns. It's driving me crazy. I think I found all the mentions and scrubbed them, but sometimes keeping all these facts straight makes my head hurt...
Events in this chapter required a lot of research, since I know almost nothing about sailing other than sails work like an airplane wing, but the "lift" they generate is sideways. You actually sail across a wind rather than in front of the wind.
This boat is more properly called a catboat. Skiff, the word used in the module, is apparently a really broad term that may or may not include catboats; that wasn't clear to me. It seems to refer to smaller boats such as rowboats or sailing dinghies, and catboats may be larger than the range covered by the term "skiff". Of course, nobody is really going to care about that.
I also spent a lot of time thinking about how they get into the water. The module says, "...fishers must drag their boats across the ice to open water..." and I accepted that at the time. But once I started writing this chapter, I realized the ice near the open water would be thin and dangerous to walk on, especially dragging a boat, so I invented this launch point. But then they are also supposed to just pull up on the ice at the caves, so I had to put an oddly thick ice shelf there.
I realized that the randomly rolled minimal wind would be a problem. All that talk about how to sail in light wind is more research. Apologies to any actual sailors who are just rolling their eyes with all the things I probably got wrong ;)
The gnolls were a random encounter. I knew they couldn't engage the players so I planned them to be just scenery, but it turned into an interesting Zariel moment.
More module inconsistency. The original fishers were in multiple boats pulled up on the ice (p.62) , but they are also in one boat called the Bunch o' Knuckleheads, which is found bobbing in the water (p. 64).
Only Bjarnson has crampons, which allow him to move across the ice safely. You are supposed to make a DC 10 Acrobatics check every turn, even if you don't move, to avoid falling. I decided to let them move at reduced speed safely, but require the DEX check if they try to move faster. Bjarnson can move normal speed. Constantly falling like a slapstick troupe isn't going to be fun.
Chapter 51: Chilling Airs and Siren Songs
Summary:
The party has found the missing boats, and investigates the mysterious caverns nearby.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 2, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
Pariah ran past Zariel into the cave, desperate to find the source of the enchanting music. Eberic ran in by her side. She heard the others calling out her name, but she didn't care. She had to find the singer, had to get closer to the song.
She wasn't being careful and so her feet shot out from under her and she flopped onto her back. The light from her shield dimly illuminated the rocky ceiling a good fifty feet above and there she saw it, though the light had an unexpected greenish hue. A beautiful woman with feathered wings, singing her divine song, and descending from on high. The angelic figure swooped down, and Pariah's smile widened as the song grew nearer. She closed her eyes in bliss.
Talons stabbed her thigh, punching through the leather. The piercing pain broke Pariah out of her reverie, and she saw the shrieking form standing over her, a hideous woman with vulture wings and sharp teeth. A harpy. The monster gripped her leg with the claws of her feet, and brandished a femur as a club. As the bone descended, Pariah quickly brought her shield up to block the blow.
Pariah was still dazed as she shook off the enchantment. Zariel came up on her right, slashing at the harpy while trying to cover the prone tiefling with her shield. Bjarnson was to her left, and his upper body briefly shifted into polar bear form as he raked claws across the monster.
The harpy's talons released Pariah, who quickly leapt to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain in her leg. Further down the tunnel, Eberic was engaged with another harpy, standing there passively as she clawed at him. Lulu appeared behind him and shouted, "Wake up!" as she stabbed him in the back with her tiny sword. For some reason, that little pain was enough to shock him out of his reverie. He cried out and stabbed clumsily at the harpy with his ice dagger, managing a glancing blow.
Pariah, rather than going for her sword, grabbed her chardalyn stone as a dark spell rose in her mind. "Gashkwiish," she said, and a minor curse reached out and touched each of the harpies.
The injuries and the magic were too much for the hideous creatures. "Flee!" the one near her shrieked, and both of them took to the air and flew down the wide tunnel towards the bend. Pariah's mind was still spinning, and she was unsure of her steadiness on the ice. She vacillated between shooting a beam of cold and unlimbering her bow. Bjarnson and Zariel were not so hesitant and rushed forward in pursuit, though Zariel couldn't move quickly on the ice.
Bjarnson made a motion with his staff and a shard of ice flew out, stabbing into the nearer harpy before bursting into shards. It was quickly followed by one of Zariel's javelins, which pierced the monster completely and she fell to the ground, dead. A flaming bolt shot past Pariah towards the other harpy, hitting her right before she flew into the darkness around the turn.
Pariah turned to see Dejen behind her, lowering his crossbow. She also saw the lantern at his side, burning with a green flame. However, her attention was drawn to the huge shadow behind him, surging forward to the attack. "Look out!" she shouted.
A massive wolf, standing taller than any of them, charged into the light to bite at Dejen. Whether it was due to Pariah's warning or his own senses, Dejen was able to dodge aside and turn to face the enormous dire wolf.
"Get back," she yelled at Dejen as she stepped forward to get between him and the animal. She drew her blade and ice formed along its edge as she struck, cutting a deep wound across the wolf's shoulder. The wound froze so it didn't start bleeding.
Dejen used the opportunity to fall back and fire another flaming bolt from his crossbow, but it missed the dire wolf. Pariah held the beast's attention. It snapped at her with jaws that could probably bite her head clean off. She jammed her shield forward and it bit down, but the sharp teeth didn't reach her arm. She could feel the warmth of the wolf's breath on her face as she held the slavering jaws away from her. Zariel and Eberic came up on each side, and the three of them slashed and stabbed at the great beast. The wolf bit at each of them in turn but couldn't manage to injure any of them. As its own wounds accumulated, it turned and fled out of the cave. This time Pariah didn't hesitate as she sent a beam of cold towards it, hitting it squarely in the back leg. The wolf stumbled a few more steps before collapsing, turning the snow around it red.
Pariah quickly turned to face into the cave. "Where's the other harpy?" she asked, looking for movement.
Lulu said, "She got away. She's in the tunnels somewhere. I didn't want to follow her alone."
"That was wise," Zariel said as she scanned the darkness ahead and above. "We will have to keep watch that it doesn't ambush us again."
Eberic was watching the tunnel entrance but nothing else came in. Bjarnson stood over the dead harpy, looking down at her. "I doubt she will. Harpies are pretty cowardly. For them to attack a group this big, they must have been desperate. Look at this one. She's emaciated, probably starving."
Pariah saw that Dejen had his lantern raised in front of his face so he could stare into the green flame burning there. She said, "There is an elemental near."
"More chwingas!" Dejen said in excitement.
"Not necessarily," she warned him. "I believe you said that detected elementals, not just chwinga. There are other kinds." She continued to search the air above them. "And that makes me wonder if all this moaning and rushing wind is some kind of air elemental."
That put everyone on alert and they surveyed the area, weapons ready. Well all of them except Zariel, who was squatting down to examine the remains of a man, at least some of the remains. The body had been partially eaten. His clothing had been torn open and most of the flesh around his legs and arms had been gnawed off. However, his face was intact, and Pariah recognized him as the man from the séance who had been looking for his missing friend.
Bjarnson said, "I guess that explains why the fishers docked here. Some harpies must have moved into these caves. They lured the fishers in with their songs and killed them."
Eberic made an indecisive noise. "Then where are the other four fishers?"
Bjarnson looked down the tunnel. "Probably deeper inside. I imagine there are other harpies. Those are the ones we'll have to watch for."
"And they'll be on the alert now," Pariah observed.
Dejen had lowered his green burning lamp. "I hope the chwingas are safe!"
Patiently Pariah said, "We don't know that they are chwingas. I can't imagine they'd survive with harpies around. Like I said it could be an air elemental. I'm not even sure how you fight air. Bjarnson, are there many elementals in the area?"
"A few, though they tend to be farther from the towns. Air and water mostly, a few earth in the mountains. No fire that I know of."
"Dangerous?"
He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Dangerous in the way a forest fire or an avalanche is dangerous. And they can be territorial. But malicious? No, not unless they are under the control of some wizard. It's best to just avoid them entirely."
"Fine with me," Pariah said as she looked around again. They were standing at a slight right bend in the tunnel, midway between the entrance and another, sharper bend to the left. The tunnel would fit three or four of them walking abreast, and the ceiling was easily fifty feet over their heads. She could imagine giants easily traversing these caverns.
There were nooks and crannies in the rocks, though none seemed big enough to be hiding enemies, and no elementals of any kind had swooped down on them. Zariel said, "Do we all agree that we must keep looking until we find the other missing townspeople?"
Nobody objected. Bjarnson said, "Agreed, but before we continue, let me check everyone's injuries."
They remained vigilant while Bjarnson and Zariel checked Pariah and Eberic, healing their wounds with medicine and magic. Dejen used the magic of his quill to repair the punctures in Pariah's leather. With four bodies still missing, it was clear that more threats waited for them in the caverns. They had to be ready. With that in mind, Pariah pulled the cold into her armor, cursing herself for not doing that before entering the cave in the first place. She had just assumed anything that lived in a place like this wouldn't be affected by the cold, but there were plenty of creatures like harpies and gnolls that were susceptible to this kind of damage.
Through all of this, Dejen's light continued to burn green.
Lulu flew out to let Scython know what was going on. He had seen the missing harpy fly out of one of the upper cave mouths, which implied that the openings were all connected. She was currently perched on the top of the cliff watching them, but didn't seem interested in attacking again. He had a crossbow and a scimitar, and he assured Lulu that he'd be fine on his own.
Soon they were ready to continue their exploration. There hadn't been any unexpected movement or sound during their brief rest, though it would be hard to hear anything over the moaning of the wind that blew through the caves. If Pariah closed her eyes, the wind sounded like the ghostly cry of a woman. She couldn't imagine staying here long; the sound would drive her insane.
The lack of attacks didn't comfort Pariah; it made her more nervous. "Let's be careful," she said to the others. "If that harpy warned anyone, then there are going to be ambushes waiting for us."
They settled into the same order as before: Zariel leading the way, Pariah and Eberic close behind, Bjarnson and Dejen bringing up the rear. They walked slowly and carefully on the rough ice, following the wide tunnel as it curved back and forth, but as soon as they came around the nearest bend they were brought to a halt.
A waterfall taller than Pariah could reach blocked their path. It was of course frozen solid now into an uneven wall of ice. Zariel looked up towards the top where it seemed the tunnel continued. "Should we try one of the other caves? From what Scython said about the harpy, they must connect."
Bjarnson stepped forward to survey the obstacle. "We have climbing equipment. This is a pretty easy climb."
Pariah looked up the wall. "Again, I'm worried about an ambush. This is where I would set one." She grimaced at the green light reflecting off the ice. "And I still want to know where that damn elemental is. Dejen, how far does that thing detect?"
"I don't know, I'm afraid. I kept meaning to do empirical tests with the chwinga we found, but they were just so cute that I never got around to it. But I'd estimate a few hundred feet."
She frowned as she tried to remember. "When did the green light start?"
"As we were approaching the caves. I was trying to get everyone's attention when you and Eberic rushed off."
"And you can't tell direction or anything? It doesn't burn brighter as we get near?" She knew the answers already, but she had to ask.
"No, I don't think so. I just know there is one or more in the area. And elementals aren't evil like harpies so it probably will just leave us alone."
Pariah's back was to him so she let herself roll her eyes. She wasn't going to be so trusting.
Bjarnson had been examining the frozen waterfall. "I wish this ice was thicker, but I think it should be safe. I'd say no more than one person at a time, though."
"I'll go first," Eberic volunteered. "I scaled a few cliffs in my scouting days, and I weigh less than most of you."
Pariah said, "Lulu, keep watch up top. And we should keep an eye out behind us. I don't want us to be surprised again, especially when separated."
Bjarnson lent Eberic his crampons, and then the dwarf set about hammering pitons into the ice. He surveyed the sheet carefully, finding the strongest points, and was able to create hand and foot holds for the less experienced climbers. Pariah, as the one in the group who actually weighed the least, went next. She was a bit nervous as she started to climb, but the ice seemed firm and the pitons secure.
The others followed one at a time, with the heavily armored Zariel coming last. The ice cracked and groaned under her weight, but she made it up safely. Nothing stirred in the darkness and nothing could be heard but the moaning of the wind.
The frozen river stretched before them past the limits of their lights. A tunnel branched off to the right, sloping up out of the ice. The floor had a layer of frost, though Pariah guessed it wouldn't be a slick as walking on the frozen river. However, the passage was narrow so they would have to advance single file. It was also much shorter than the river tunnel; Pariah would be able to touch the ceiling with an outstretched hand. She stood at the mouth of it, holding her glowing shield high, but the tunnel bent out of sight so she couldn't see far. It looked too narrow for a harpy's wingspan, which was something to be thankful for.
The continued lack of attacks increased Pariah's anxiety. There had to be something else in these caves, so what was it waiting for? She kept straining, trying to hear something through the incessant wailing of the wind, but there was nothing.
The others came to join her at the tunnel mouth. Eberic said, "So is that where we are going?"
Pariah looked down the tunnel again, and then down the stretch of the frozen river. She motioned down the river, "Slippery floor deathtrap," she motioned towards the tunnel, "or narrow tunnel deathtrap?"
Eberic chuckled grimly.
Zariel said, "I can lead the way into the tunnel. I am confident of my ability to hold the line and even advance should we be attacked. And I would rather have firm stone beneath my feet." She had been having the most trouble walking on the ice. "Or did you or Eberic want to scout ahead? Without lights that is."
Eberic shook his head. "No point. We can see in the dark, like the dark of night, but even dwarves are just as blind as anyone else in a pitch-black cave. Any light I bring is going to alert people, so we might as well go in a group."
"I guess," Pariah said, though she knew he was right. "Let's just be ready to retreat if we have to. We don't want to get jammed up in there. If Zariel says fall back, then we turn and go, right?"
They all agreed, and then they entered the tunnel single file: Zariel, Eberic, Pariah, Dejen and Bjarnson. Lulu flew a little ahead. Pariah found herself painfully aware of the weight of the rock over her head and squeezing in from each side. Being packed in the middle of a group of other people didn’t make that feeling any better. She wasn't claustrophobic, but the street rat in her always wanted a clear path of escape.
Luckily, the narrow corridor didn't go very far. It curved around to the left and opened up slightly to a set of eight steps roughly carved into the rock floor. This tunnel was too small for frost giants so someone else had cut the stairs. The steps were worn and obviously old; any number of people and creatures had probably lived here over time. Before the Rime, when the river flowed, this might have been a good hideout for bandits or a refuge for hunters.
The steps weren't quite wide enough for them to walk two abreast, but they opened up at the top into a cave where the group could spread out. The space was illuminated by weak daylight that leaked in from several fractures in the ceiling thirty or so feet above them, and the ever present wind whistled through the cracks. Another, wider tunnel led out the other side.
The sunlight and their own illumination sources revealed that the cave, which was about the size of a tavern common room, was filled with bones. They were in piles pushed against the walls but also scattered about the floor. It was impossible to take a step without them crunching underfoot. Most were animal or fish bones, but there were a few obviously humanoid skulls as well. The massive skeleton of a giant sat in a corner, encased in ice like many of the other bones here. Even seated, it towered twice Pariah's height; standing, it would be a good twenty to twenty-five feet tall.
The ice on the floor was thicker here than it had been leading in, but a path had been scraped clear. Among the piles of bones were scraps of cloth, bits of armor, and rusty weapons. Everything looked ancient.
Except, that is, for the dark brown stains on the floor. Bjarnson knelt down to examine one of them, scratching it with a fingernail. "Blood. No more than a week or two old."
"Humanoid?" Pariah asked.
He shook his head. "Can't tell."
Eberic was looking at one of the icebound piles of humanoid bones. He nudged the pile with a foot, but the ice didn't move. "The blood may be fresh, but none of these bodies are. These aren't the people we are looking for." His face clouded. "And I see teeth marks on the bones. This isn't normal decay."
Dejen said nervously, "I'd think bodies would mummify in this kind of cold, dry environment anyhow. I'm surprised to see skeletons."
That brought up a suspicion in Pariah's mind. "Zariel, any undead hiding in all this mess?"
A crack sounded to her left. She turned and saw a fracture had appeared in the ice encasing the frost giant skeleton. As she watched, another crack appeared as one massive leg moved. "Never mind," she said, drawing her sword. "I think I know the answer."
Notes:
The harpy attack is supposed to happen before they enter the caves, and the dire wolf is a separate encounter, but I figured the wolf would be alerted by the song and investigate. Plus he's stealthy so it's a good opportunity for ambush. I mentioned last chapter that people are moving at reduced speed because of the ice, but I figure that harpy song means they move full speed so have to roll for a fall.
I know that a harpy attack isn't supposed to break their victims out of the charm. Pariah actually saved on her own turn, but this description was better for the story.
I had forgotten about the elemental in question, so I had to go back and rewrite some things to have Dejen's lamp burning green. The rewrites were done long before publication so you don't need to go back and reread anything. Dejen should have detected the elemental much earlier, but that would have been too difficult to retcon so I moved it deeper in the caves to a spot that makes more sense anyhow.
Chapter 52: In the Boneyard
Summary:
When you are in a room full of bones, it's never good when one of the skeletons starts moving.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 2, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
The massive frost giant skeleton struggled to break free from the ice that imprisoned it. Even though it was sitting, Pariah had to look up to see even its collarbone. Just one of its thigh bones was as long as she was tall. She would be able to stand comfortably inside its rib cage. Pariah had been terrified once when the enormous devil Bel had held her aloft in a single claw, and yet this giant would dwarf the pit fiend.
As the ice imprisoning the giant skeleton cracked, Dejen said in a shaky voice, "I think we should run. We've seen the blood. We've seen the harpies. We know the missing fishers are dead. I see no reason to join them. I can't imagine any duergars in these caverns, so we have no business here. Discretion would be the wise tactic here."
Pariah was leaning in the same direction, she just didn't want to be the one to say it. But Zariel glared up at the massive creature and said, "You all do what you must, but I will not flee before an undead abomination like this. We must strike quickly before it is free."
A radiant glow poured from her, spreading across the room. Remembering what happened before, they all shuffled to get out of the way of this field of holy energy. Pariah was worried, but Zariel didn't have the look of fury she'd had the last time. She was determined, but didn't seem out of control. The glow that surrounded her was particularly intense along her blade, like radiant flames along the edge. "For Lathander!" the warrior cried as she charged forward.
The giant freed one arm and brought down a massive fist as Zariel neared. She caught the blow on her shield, the force of it practically knocking her to her knees. She slashed at the arm but the angle of the cut was poor and the blow glanced off the bone.
"Talona's tits," Pariah grumbled, but she wasn't going to leave Zariel to fight alone. She focused her magic into her sword, focused her perception into the giant, and advanced more cautiously than the other woman had. The creature was still mostly restrained by its frozen prison, though massive chunks of ice were falling away. Pariah launched a powerful slash at its shoulder, hoping to cripple the arm on her side. The blow landed and dug deep into the joint. Bone chips flew, but the skeleton ripped the arm from the ice and struck at her. Pariah dodged back rather than trying to block the blow, and the bony fist slammed into the floor.
Eberic darted in to stab at the skeleton's hip. His dagger dug in, but it was like trying to punch through a stone wall. A giant elbow came towards him, but he nimbly darted back out of reach. A ball of fire came shooting from behind them and smashed into the skeleton's face. Rather than exploding as Pariah expected, the flaming sphere drew back and kept hammering at the giant, like a fist of flame. The giant snapped at it with its teeth but couldn't catch it.
The ice sloughed off the giant's ribcage, though its legs were still frozen to the ground. Zariel slashed again. It slapped her sword aside, nearly knocking the weapon out of her hands. Pariah and Bjarnson used the opportunity to strike it its exposed right side. More bone chipped away but the damage didn't seem to be having an effect. The flaming sphere darted around smashing bone, and streaks of flame from Bjarnson and Dejen harried the skeleton, but the attacks were like thrown pebbles to the massive skeleton.
With surprising speed, the giant's massive arm swept towards Pariah and Eberic. The dwarf was quick and took only a glancing blow from its outstretched fingers, but Pariah took the elbow right to her shield and the guard of her saber. The impact knocked her back several steps and she felt like her arms were going to be ripped out of their sockets. Her right shoulder twinged, memory of an old injury from her time in Avernus.
The last of the ice fell away from the giant's legs and it began to climb to its feet. Pariah slashed at its knee, causing the joint to crack and the giant to stumble. As the skull turned towards her, Zariel stabbed at its hip on the other side. The glowing sword plunged into the pelvic bone. She cried out a prayer in Enochian and, with a burst of energy, the giant's pelvis fractured. The femur popped out of its socket and the giant fell forward.
It lashed out with both arms now, knocking both Zariel and Pariah to the ground. Pariah struggled to breathe as pain blossomed in her ribs. She sent a futile beam of ice at the giant as she tried to move backwards. A hand grabbed her and pulled her away from the giant. She looked up to see Bjarnson dragging her by her cloak, the other hand waving his staff. In response to the movement of his staff, the flaming sphere smashed over and over against the giant's skull. Flames from Dejen's crossbow peppered its ribs. Zariel, rather than retreating, struggled to her feet to strike at its spine. Eberic stayed behind it, stabbing its bones over and over with his ice dagger.
The frost giant skeleton finally collapsed to the ground, the bones falling away from each other as the magic that held them together faded. Nothing was left but a pile of enormous but disconnected bones.
Pariah stood, watching the dozens of other skeletons scattered around the cave. Shadows shifted as the group's various light sources moved, but nothing seemed to be stirring. Zariel scanned the room intently but then she relaxed and the field of radiance around her faded away. "There are no more undead here," she declared.
The tiefling leaned back against the wall and slid into a sitting position. "I'm going to feel that in the morning," she sighed, moving her arm around to relieve the discomfort in her shoulder. "We're all still standing?" she asked.
"It seems so," said Bjarnson. "I'll make my rounds again."
"As will I," said Zariel.
"Sit down," he said to her firmly. "Let me do my examinations first, then you can use whatever healing magic you like. Dejen, Lulu, keep watch."
Lulu alit at the mouth of the tunnel leading out of the bone yard while Dejen moved to watch the tunnel they had entered. He said, "Do we really want to stay? As I said before, it seems clear the missing people are dead. Perhaps we should just report back to town and let the captain decide if she wants to clear out these caves."
There was silence as the group mulled over the suggestion. Bjarnson had knelt down next to Pariah and was gently probing her arms and shoulders; she guessed he was looking for fractures. He said, "I would like to know what else is here and how much of a threat it is to the surrounding lands." He nodded towards the blood stains. "Those are drag marks. Something killed them and then took the bodies away. Maybe animals, maybe something else."
Pariah looked at the scattered giant bones. "I'm leaning towards 'something else'. I wouldn't think that skeleton would tolerate animals or harpies. Something woke those bones up."
"Agreed," Zariel said grimly, looking past Lulu towards the other tunnel. She was still standing, her sword raised high to cast light. The tunnel went about thirty feet before intersecting another one. Unlike the one they had come in, this passage was wide and high -- giant sized.
Dejen said, "Do you think there are more skeletal giants? Or living giants?"
Bjarnson looked down the same tunnel with a thoughtful expression. "Living? I doubt it. This," he waved at the bones, "doesn't seem like something the giants would do. I don't think they've used these caves in a long time. No, something else is here."
"I can go look," Lulu offered.
"No," Zariel said quickly. "Later, perhaps, once we've attended to our injuries. But right now I don't want to take the chance of alerting any other denizens to our presence."
Eberic grunted. "You think that battle didn't alert anyone?"
Zariel looked back at the pile of bones and then down the corridor. "I can only hope that the sound of the wind whistling covered up the noise. Certainly nothing has come to investigate."
"I suppose," he admitted. "Let's keep our ears and eyes open anyhow."
None of them wanted to waste too much time here, but Pariah, Zariel and Eberic had all taken their licks in the battle. However, between Bjarnson's healing herbs and Zariel's prayers, they all felt better after a brief rest. Well, "rest" might be a strong word. A brief period of time that they all peered into the darkness nervously, looking for the movement of attacking creatures.
"That's the last of the medicine," Bjarnson said as he turned his herb pouch upside down. Playfully he added, "Nobody else get hurt, all right? Not till we get back to town and I can restock."
"Promise," Pariah said with a groan as she stood. "Now as much as I'd like a nap, I suppose we should keep going. Besides, Scython isn't going to wait forever." Lulu had made a dash back outside to let him know they were still alive. The mist across the water to the north was moving closer, and he had said he didn't want to stay if they got fogged in. Pariah continued, "Let's push on but if we get into another fight, we're going to have to head back and try again another day."
The fell into their usual formation: Zariel in the lead, Pariah and Eberic flanking close behind, Bjarnson and Dejen in the back, Lulu darting around the periphery of the group.
A path had been scraped through the frost on the ground of the tunnel, just like in the bone room. When they came to the T-junction that went left and right, the scraped path continued to the right and up a set of crude steps that curved out of sight. The tunnel to the left narrowed and led to a larger space about forty feet off. After some silent gesturing, the group agreed to follow the scraped path.
Eberic reached out to stop Zariel as he peered intently up the steps. Quietly he said, "I think there's light ahead. Let's douse our own lights."
Lulu touched Pariah's shield and it went dark. Zariel didn't sheathe her sword, but it stopped glowing. Everyone turned to Dejen who was staring uncertainly at his green-flamed lamp. Pariah said, "We already know there is an elemental here. There's no reason to keep that lit."
"That's true," he admitted, and he reluctantly doused the flame.
In the darkness it was easier to see the dim and flickering light at the top of the steps. Pariah strained to hear but the wind still moaned, covering any sound. She looked at Eberic. "Let's check that out."
He nodded, and they motioned for the others to stay. Lulu turned invisible and flew ahead.
The steps were wide enough they could climb side by side, and they moved silently up around the curve at the top. There were about a dozen steps total that eventually opened into a massive cavern at least three times as large as the bone room. A bonfire burned in the middle of the cave, but it seemed to have no fuel. It was simply a large flame sitting on the bare stone of the cave floor. It reminded Pariah of the magical fires she'd seen in Traxigor's lab, though much larger.
There were more piles of bones here, though nowhere near as many as in the last room. Near the fire was a heap of weapons, armor and other equipment, all of which looked much more recent than the ancient pieces in the bone yard. Crude furniture -- a bed, a table, two chairs, and a couple of chests -- made it clear this place was lived in.
About ten feet away from the fire was a cauldron made of copper that was green with age. It was about two feet across and a bit less than that high with two wide handles and five clawed feet. Through the patina on the sides, Pariah could see embossed images of satyrs and nymphs. From here she could just see into the pot where a warm, brown stew bubbled. She wonder how the stew was simmering with no apparent source of heat, since it was far from the fire.
However, her eye was drawn mostly to the blood-stained stone block next to the cauldron. It was about waist high and large enough to hold the naked corpse of a man that was draped across it. Next to the body were rusty hatchets and knives. On the floor to one side was a haphazard pile of cutting implements of various sizes, as well as forks, skewers, smaller pots and other cooking and butchering tools. On the other side were three more bodies with large chunks of flesh hacked off. Pariah wasn't even sure what race or gender they were.
In addition, the cave was warm enough that the bodies weren't frozen. From the smell, they had clearly been there a while. The rotting odor was somehow more nauseating because it was intertwined with the savory smell of delicious stew.
Nothing moved other than the flickering of the flames. The room curved out of sight to the left, but stepping out of the tunnel to get a better look would expose her to anyone in the room.
"Gods above," Eberic whispered.
Lulu said unenthusiastically, "I could explore the rest of the cave."
Even if she had sounded eager and willing, Pariah wasn't about to let her go into that slaughterhouse alone. "No. Tell Zariel and the others to come up. We need to go in together."
Lulu sent her mental message and the others came up behind them. Pariah waved Zariel forward, and the woman stopped as she got a full view of what was in the room.
Pariah said, "We clear out whatever did this, right?"
Zariel's grip tightened on her sword. "Absolutely."
They moved into the cave cautiously, weapons ready, eyes scanning. Pariah watched the bodies to see if they'd move, but also examined their surroundings for ambushes. She checked the ceiling a good forty feet or more over their heads, for harpies or anything else that might be hiding in the shifting shadows.
Zariel announced, "They are not undead."
It took Pariah a moment to realize she meant the butchered corpses. "Good," she said, not that that meant the group was safe.
"What's that?" Eberic asked, pointing.
As they moved into the room, they could see into a small alcove to the side. Something was there on the floor, something like a pile of clothes, or maybe something like a someone.
Pariah's heart pounded as she moved towards the something, still waiting for an attack. As they came further into the cave, she could see a face. It was an old woman, probably in her 70s, with stringy hair and wearing ratty furs. She was gagged and her hands were bound. As the group moved into her field of vision, her eyes widened in fear. She screamed against her gag and tried to crawl back away from them.
Pariah quickly sheathed her sword. "Shh, shh, it's all right," she assured the woman, necessarily speaking loudly to be heard over the moaning wind. The sound was quieter here, maybe due to the larger cave not channeling the ever-present wind so tightly, but still loud enough to make it hard to be heard at a distance.
She still had her shield strapped to one forearm, but she showed open hands as she moved towards the woman. "It's OK," she said. "We're here to rescue you."
The old woman had managed to get into a sitting position and watched her suspiciously, but didn't back away as Pariah drew near. Pariah reached out to lower her gag and asked, "Are you one of the fishers from Easthaven?"
The woman nodded silently, her eyes still wide with fear. She said in a raspy voice, "Yes, we were-" and then she broke off coughing. Pariah got out her water skin and gave her a drink. The woman's hands were still bound so Pariah had to hold the skin while the prisoner gulped it down. Finally the old woman pulled away.
"Thank you," she said in a slightly smoother but still hoarse voice. "We were fishing and we saw these caves. They've been covered up because of the ice since the Rime started, but there must have been an avalanche or something because they were open. We were drawn here, I don't know why. And then they attacked."
"Harpies?" Pariah asked, though the horrors in this room didn't fit with what she knew of harpies.
The woman shook her head. "No. These things came out of the water." She nodded to the far end of the cave, which went off into darkness. "They took us prisoner and then they..." She broke off and looked towards the butchered bodies.
Pariah said, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. We have a boat and we are going to take you out of here." She reached for her dagger. "Here, let me free your hands."
Behind her, Dejen said, "This is strange."
Pariah's cloak was caught under her knee so she had to shift position to clear it and get to the dagger on her left hip. "What's strange?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Well, I think there are too many bodies here."
She drew her dagger and turned her attention to the leather cord binding the woman's wrists. The strap didn't seem that tight and the knot looked simple, so she debated about just untying it. However she saw teeth marks on the end of the leather, as though the old woman had been trying to free herself in panic. It would be better to free her quickly by cutting the binding. Pariah slipped the blade under the cord, careful not to cut the woman's skin.
"What do you mean 'too many bodies'?" Zariel asked.
Pariah cut the bindings, freeing the woman's hands. The prisoner was shaking, so Pariah folded the woman's hands in her own to warm them.
Dejen said, "Well, I just mean that we came here to rescue five people. We found one in the entry, and four more here. And then there is this woman over there. And these bodies are all at least several days old, and all looked to have been killed around the same time."
Pariah looked again at the marks on the leather strap that had fallen to the cave floor. They were the marks of sharp teeth that almost penetrated the leather. And they were in a strange location. Biting there wouldn't free you. If anything, pulling on that strap would tighten the knot.
She felt the woman's long, bony fingers between her palms. She felt the coldness of her skin. And she felt the points of long claws against her wrists. Talons, hard and sharp.
She looked into the old woman's eyes. The woman's mouth split into a wide grin, exposing pointed teeth. Her skin turned sickly grayish-purple as the glamour wore off. Her eyes bulged out and were covered in a slimy film, and Pariah could now see humanoid finger bones woven into her stringy hair.
The hag shrieked as she lunged forward to bite at Pariah's throat.
Notes:
The mechanics of the frost giant skeleton in the module is that he moves on an initiative score of 1, and he can't do anything for the first two rounds as he's breaking out of the ice. However he's also not considered restrained or paralyzed. He can do either two 25-point attacks (great axe) or one 35-point attack (freezing stare) each round, and that's INSANE for level 3 characters.
I changed it so that he is restrained for the first two rounds. That's good because the PCs get advantage on their attacks and he rolls DEX saves at disadvantage, but it's bad because he can attack while breaking out, though at disadvantage. That seemed like a good tradeoff.
In addition, I dumped his Freezing Stare because it's WAY overpowered for this level, and I had him attack unarmed. Using the rules for unarmed hill giants in Storm King's Thunder he'd do 3d4+6 = 13 damage, which is half his normal damage. And again, he's rolling at disadvantage for the first two rounds. I kept the initiative score of 1, which is nice because the PC initiative rolls were 3, 3, 4, 10 and 14!
"Bjarnson's healing herbs and Zariel's prayers" is a fancy way of saying "spent hit dice on a short rest". I treat both short and long rests as a sort of magical healing ritual rather than normal rest. They are all healed up, but out of hit dice and Zariel is out of Lay on Hands. Sure hope there isn't anything tough ahead...
I home-brewed a lot in room they entered at the end, but I'll wait until next chapter to talk about it.
Chapter 53: Colder Than a Witch's Kiss
Summary:
The party has found an old woman being held captive who isn't what she appears to be.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 2, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
Pariah scuttled back as the hideous crone lunged at her with a cackling shriek. Pointed teeth snapped at her throat, missing by inches. Filthy claws slashed at the backs of her hands, opening shallow but painful wounds. The tiefling scrambled to her feet and tried to call out a warning to the others, but terror stilled her voice as the revolting hag rushed at her. The stench of dead flesh from the creature's mouth, the blood and spittle dribbling from between her sharp teeth, the madness in the bulging, filmy eyes filled Pariah with dread. She continued to retreat, firing a clumsy ray of cold that missed the hag cleanly.
And then suddenly, Zariel was there, glowing blade held high, shield moving to block the filthy claws that raked towards Pariah. "Begone, fiend!" Zariel yelled as she interposed herself between the hag and the fleeing tiefling. Her glowing sword slashed and burned wounds in the hag's skin. Pariah continued to rush backwards, but the beast had lost interest in her as she snarled and clawed at a new target.
Pariah forced herself to stop retreating, breathing deeply and trying to calm her racing heart. As she did, she realized there was more going on than Zariel's duel with the crone. Beetles swarmed out of the piles of bones and other debris to attack everyone. The horde of insects crawling up her legs was less horrifying than the misshapen thing that Zariel fought, and focusing on a more mundane opponent calmed her down.
Her sword was still sheathed. She reached into her pouch to touch the chardalyn there and pull the cold into her armor. As the bugs swarmed up her body and bit at her, the cold lashed back at them. Pariah slapped at them and tried to brush them off, directing small bursts of cold at them, but there seemed to be an endless supply of them.
"Behind you!" Eberic called out, rushing past Pariah to engage something bearing down on them. The cooking utensils had assembled themselves into a construct of rusty pots and pans, and blood-stained hatchets and knives.
Dejen was farthest away from her, in a corner of the cave pointing his quill at the beetles swarming him and using a spell to sweep them away. Lulu was fluttering around him, stabbing at the insects while trying not to hurt Dejen. Bjarnson was covered in his own swarm, and he had copied Pariah's strategy of calling cold into his armor. The bugs bit at him only to freeze and drop away. He flung a shard of ice at another swarm of beetles that was scuttling across the floor towards Eberic, and the burst of ice crystals destroyed about half of them, though the others kept going.
Eberic himself was locked in a duel with the cooking utensil construct, nimbly avoiding its blows to stab his knife at it. Unfortunately, he was having trouble doing much damage against a collection of metal objects and the point of his knife kept sliding off wherever he hit. Bjarnson imposed himself between the swarm and the dwarf, and the bugs climbed up his legs rather than Eberic's. His icy armor continued to prove lethal to them.
Pariah finally managed to kill the last of the insects harassing her. Zariel was holding her own against the hag. Eberic had changed tactics, now striking at the spaces between the junk that made up the thing he fought. A frying pan fell away as though severed, and a butcher knife soon lay next to it. He started carving away pieces of the junk golem. Bjarnson, even though he still had beetles swarming over him, was helping Eberic fight the construct. Dejen seemed to be in the most trouble, his movements becoming more erratic as he started to panic, so Pariah rushed over to help him.
Pariah tried the same tactic she had used on herself, slapping at the bugs and trying to direct cold energy at them, but it was a lot harder to hit things crawling on someone else. "Hold still!" she yelled in frustration, but Dejen continued to squirm as the beetles swarmed over him. Eventually, between the two of them and Lulu, they managed to kill the last of the insects on his body.
Bjarnson bashed the construct with his staff, and the pieces burst apart as the last of the magic faded, much as the frost giant skeleton had. The last of the beetles on his body had died of the cold, so that just left the hag, who was clearly wounded and weakening.
They all turned and rushed to aid Zariel. The hag saw them closing, snarled at them, and fled. They gave chase, but the hag was fast. She fled deeper into the darkness of the cave as their lights followed her. The cavern curved around to the left and then ended abruptly at a massive pool of swirling water. A frozen river led off to the left, but the pool was ice free. The hag shouted towards the pool in a language that Pariah didn't understand. She might not have known the words, but she knew the tone: the hag was demanding something.
The surface of the water rose into a swirling column that towered a good twenty feet over the hag. Vague shapes like faces appeared and disappeared on its surface, and a half-dozen watery tendrils whipped about. The hag turned towards her pursuers, baring her pointed teeth in a triumphant grin as she pointed at them and shouted an order in that strange language. The column of water rose higher and then the head of it descended quickly towards them.
The water column smashed into the hag and then lifted her off the ground, enveloping her. She shouted muffled and angry threats at the thing, and then the water smashed her into the cave wall. The tower of water flailed back and forth, beating her against the stone wall of the cave over and over, leaving blood on the stone. The water turned red but they could still see the body of the crone breaking and twisting as she was repeatedly slammed into the walls. Long after she was dead, the water continued to break her against the rocks.
Finally, it flung her bloody and broken corpse at their feet.
The group stood in stunned silence, looking down at the horrific body, and up at the column of water that stood over them. Pariah said, "Dejen, I think we found your elemental."
Dejen stepped forward, holding his green-burning lantern high to reveal the beaming smile on his face. "Isn't it magnificent?" he said.
"Hold on," Pariah said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not attacking us, but that doesn't mean it's safe."
The column of water remained there, currents swirling, the red of the hag's blood slowly fading as it was diluted. It simply...stood there, for lack of a better word.
Lulu said softly, "It wants us to leave."
"You can understand it?" Bjarnson asked. "Oh, of course you can," he added as he remembered her telepathy.
"Leave?" Dejen said. "But I have so many questions!"
"It wants us to leave," Lulu said more firmly.
Pariah still had her hand on his shoulder. She tugged gently but he ignored her. "Dejen, we should go. We don't want to fight this thing. We found the fishers, we found what happened to them. Let's go."
He turned to look at her, the disappointment on his face reminding her of a toddler who's been told he can't play anymore. "But I have so many questions," he said again.
Pariah was trying to think of a way to convince him to leave. "Scython won't wait much longer," she reminded him.
"I’m sure he'll wait a little while," Dejen replied with a dismissive wave.
She was starting to think she was going to have to physically drag him off, when Lulu said, "This pool is a sacred site to the frost giants. This elemental was placed to guard it. The witch desecrated it with her presence, and this guardian tolerated her because she was too powerful. It is grateful that we helped kill her, which is why it is giving us the chance to leave. We can take anything the witch had, but we are to leave the area around this pool immediately."
"Oh," Dejen said, turning to look at the elemental again. "I guess I understand. Tell it I mean no disrespect. I'm a scholar. I would like to know more about the rituals that went on here."
Lulu said, frustration growing in her voice, "It wants us to leave."
Zariel moved in front of him and said, "She's right. We have to go. Let us respect this sacred site."
"All right," Dejen said sadly. "I suppose I understand." He bowed to the elemental and said, "Thank you for not killing us. We will go."
He turned away, his shoulders slumped, and they all returned to the witch's lair.
Pariah looked over the detritus in the cave. The street thief in her wanted to look for loot; the warrior in her was tired and bruised and wanted to get away from this crypt. "I suppose we should look through her things," she said without enthusiasm as the thief side barely won out.
Zariel said, "We should take the bodies back to Easthaven for a proper burial."
Dejen had already wandered towards the copper cauldron that was still simmering away, the delicious smell of stew contrasting with the odor of the rotting, butchered bodies nearby. He said, "I'd like to study this vessel. It's clearly magical." He sat next to it to examine the embossed figures, quill in hand, oblivious to the corpses.
Bjarnson suggested, "And we might want to take a rest." After a moment he added, "But perhaps not in this room."
Pariah didn't have anything left in her right now. Bug bites and giant, bony fists had taken their toll, and she was on the last dregs of her energy. Eberic was poking through the pile of discarded armor and weapons suspiciously, dagger in hand in case the junk rose to attack him. Zariel was arranging the corpses of the fishers, laying the butchered bodies down in a more dignified manner.
Pariah looked over at the two wooden chests near the bed. They were crudely constructed and neither was locked. One was warped like it had been underwater. There might be something valuable in them. If nothing else, maybe there was something to wrap the bodies in. She walked over and knelt down in front of them.
She hesitantly opened the unwarped chest first to reveal a haphazard pile of clothes and two jars of thick glass. She cautiously picked up the top garment, fully expecting a swarm of fleas or something worse to assault her, but it was just a dingy shirt. It had once been brightly colored, but now it was stained with dirt and possibly blood. It was clearly too small for the hag, cut maybe for a halfling. Below that was a pair of trousers sized about the same and then a pair of tiny leather shoes. There were two more outfits, including a dress, all sized for someone small. Below the stack of clothes was a well-worn and furry stuffed dog, a cloth doll, and a toy horse. Pariah realized in horror that these were not halfling clothes, and she quickly put them back.
She lifted out the first jar, which was filled with a thick, dark purple ooze. It didn't swirl unnaturally or creep up the side of the glass or anything like that, but it radiated a wrongness that made her bones hurt. She put it back in the chest and lifted out the other one. She wasn't too surprised to see it contained about a dozen eyeballs of varying size that floated in a cloudy liquid with a greenish hue.
She was surprised when one of the eyeballs turned to look at her.
Pariah yelled in shock, dropping the jar. It didn't break as it hit the stone floor, but it did tip over. The lid popped off, and eyeballs spilled out to roll across the ground and under the hag's bed.
"What's wrong?" Bjarnson asked in alarm.
"Nothing," she said quickly, getting to her feet. "Just usual hag stuff. Nothing useful." She looked at the other chest with a grimace. Well, it wouldn't hurt to check. She reached out to open the lid. The warped wood and rusted hinges made it hard to open, but it yielded with a little brute force to reveal its contents.
The dim light from the fire glinted off a sea of treasure.
Pariah paused, mesmerized by the gleam. There were hundreds of coins, mostly Waterdhavian gold dragons of an older style, but there were also glimpses of platinum and a few gems including the tourmalines common to the area, a few moonstones, and chunks of lapis lazuli. Afraid it was an illusion, she reached out to touch the cold metal. She ran her fingers through the coins, enjoying the pleasant clink. She turned her head to call to the others when something grabbed her wrist.
Again she cried out as she jerked her hand out. A child's severed hand was squeezing her wrist, digging long fingernails into her skin. The skin was pale gray and shriveled, and the flesh felt ice cold even through the thick scar tissue on her arm.
She heard the coins move and another hand leapt out of the pile of coins to grab at her other hand. It scrambled up her arm towards her face. Coins scattered as more hands erupted from the treasure chest, crawling all over her trying to find some gap in her armor to plunge their small, yellowed nails into her flesh.
She threw herself to the ground, rolling around to try and crush them while grabbing the ones she could to fling them away. The others rushed over and within moments the battle was over.
Pariah regained her feet, her flesh crawling as she kept inspecting herself. "Is that all of them?" she asked, hearing the panic in her voice. "Did I get them all?"
"That's all of them," Zariel assured her. She was standing in front of the chest, sweeping her sword through the gold to search for anything else that might be waiting in ambush. "It looks safe now."
Lulu said, "I agree. I sense no more undead anywhere nearby."
Six severed hands lay on the ground, all obviously from children. Pariah shivered violently while making a disgusted noise. "OK, I think I'm ready to leave. Enough creepy hag shit for one day."
"Are we taking the chest?" Eberic asked.
"Yeah," she sighed. "As long as there is nothing else lurking at it, there's no reason to leave it behind."
Dejen was still sitting by the cauldron, carefully tracing the symbols with his quill. In a distracted voice, he said, "We might want to take this as well. It has some kind of culinary enchantment. As near as I can tell, it makes food. That could be a great blessing to the locals in this environment."
Pariah walked over to look at the thick, hearty stew bubbling away in the cauldron. "What kind of food?" she asked.
Dejen seemed puzzled by the question. "Soup or stew, I presume."
She grimaced and said, "Considering the eating habits of hags, I'm not sure that's something people are going to want."
Again, Dejen seemed confused. Pariah pointed to the butchered bodies. He looked over at them, then back at the pot, and then looked up at her with wide eyes. "Oh. I see." He turned to study the cauldron again with a frown. "No, I don't think it's anything like that. The enchantment itself does not appear to be dark magic. I suspect she added her own ingredients to the existing stock. Magical food tends to be rather bland."
Bjarnson had come over to examine the cauldron as well. "A source of food like this could save lives. How much can it produce?"
Dejen made a thoughtful noise. "I believe it fills up three times per day. So three times however many people would be fed by that much stew." He waved towards the cauldron uncertainly.
"I'd say about a hundred people per potful," Bjarnson mused. "That's worth more to the locals than that chest of gold."
Pariah said, "But we are going to dump it out first, right?"
"Of course," Bjarnson replied. "We'd have to do that to move it anyhow. It's probably a good forty to fifty pounds empty, which is going to be hard enough to manage down that waterfall."
Eberic was wrapping a rope around the chest of gold to hold it closed since the warped lid didn't seal tightly. Zariel was tending to the bodies, and she said, "And what of these people here? They deserve proper burials, but we clearly can't fit all of this on the boat."
"I think the cauldron should be our first priority," Bjarnson said. "And, while I agree about the bodies, we don't have room to take them all anyhow. I think that's going to need a second trip. Now that we've located the missing townspeople, Captain Arlaggath may be willing to spare a squad to come get them. If not, I would be willing to accompany Scython back here to recover them tomorrow."
Zariel said, "Should we finish our sweep of the caverns to ensure they are safe? We would stay away from the pool, of course, but there are more tunnels to explore."
Pariah was surprised by her suggestion. While she would normally agree with it, they weren't in any shape for more fights. However, she looked over the group and realized that, for once, Zariel was the only one in the group who wasn't hurt. The hag had been a horrifying creature but apparently not much of a physical threat. Presumably she had depended on the insects and that construct to defend her, and hadn't had access to the magic that Mad Maggie had wielded.
She considered the idea before replying, "Unless you and Bjarnson have some more healing available, I think we need to head back to town. I agree with Bjarnson that I'm willing to come back and help recover the bodies. And the captain might want to put up a sign warning people to stay out since the elemental might not be as nice to the next group who comes bumbling in."
"True," Zariel nodded. "However, I am concerned that the remaining harpy or some other creature will defile these bodies. I wonder if some of us should stay to stand vigil tonight."
Gently, Pariah said, "I think that would be a bad idea. It's the same problem: we aren't in a position for more combat. Anyone staying here alone, or even two or three people, are going to be in danger. And frankly, I don't want to spend the night in a hag's lair."
Lulu piped up, "The elemental says it has seen no other creatures in this part of the caves. I asked if it would guard the bodies until tomorrow but it refused. It is here only to serve the frost giants."
"Too bad," Zariel said, "though it was a good idea to ask it. Very well, we shall return tomorrow to recover them. I think it would be best if, even if the town guard accompany us, one or more of us be the ones to recover the bodies themselves. These people may be their friends, and they should not see the horrors that have been visited upon them."
"Agreed," Bjarnson said.
"All right," Pariah said, "then let's get what we are going to take and get out of here."
Notes:
The original combat from the module was the hag (a sea hag) and a will-o-wisp. I'm learning that having only 2 enemies against 5 PCs is going to go poorly for the monsters, plus the CR math makes the combat too easy. I also just didn't like the will-o-wisp as a monster.
I decided to add the animated junk, which used the stats of Animated Armor. I set the whole thing up to be an ambush, though I didn't give them the surprised condition. I just had the hag go first, and the armor and bugs didn't appear on the map until their initiative because of the armor's False Appearance and the bugs just...well, not being there.
I flavored a lot of the combat for the story. For example, Pariah was striking at her swarm with her saber using the Planar Warrior ability (2d8+4 force damage), but I described it as pulling the cold into her hands. She also jumped into the bonfire to get rid of the swarm, but I didn't put that in the story because she took more damage than the bugs did, so it was a pretty stupid move LOL.
The elemental was a water weird. It's supposed to be in the frozen waterfall, but that makes no sense. The pool seems the logical place, especially if you know that the pool is a ceremonial site for the frost giants. Having the water be unfrozen was my own addition, though it makes sense. Its relationship with the hag was also my own idea -- its been tolerating her presence but saw an opportunity to get revenge on her for desecrating the site.
The amusing thing about the chest of gold is that the module says that if the hag gets low on HP, she offers to tell the PCs about a treasure if they let her go, but it's located a mile away and she won't tell its location until they release her. "Sure, evil hag, I totally believe in this snipe hunt you are sending us on. Please, leave in good health, and good luck to you!" I mean she's actually telling the truth, but who the hell is going to believe her? And the kind of people who would release a cannibal hag in return for gold are the kind of people who will just murder said hag once she tells them anyhow.
I didn't run the crawling claw battle; I just docked Pariah a few hit points.
According to the module, the cauldron is 4 feet wide and holds 30 gallons. Some pretty basic math reveals that it would be only 4 inches tall LOL. I found some nice examples of antique copper cauldrons of about the same volume that were more like 24" in diameter and 16" high.
Chapter 54: A Heart Adrift
Summary:
The party returns to Easthaven after having defeated the hag in the caves.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 2, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
Lost to the hunger, Pariah mused to herself as she gazed out over the water of Lac Dinneshere. That had been what the ghost had written when asked about the missing Easthaven residents. Foolish of her to think that meant their hunger and not something else's. Of course, eaten by a hag would have been a more helpful clue.
She looked at the chest of warped wood sitting on the bottom of the boat, tied tightly with rope to keep it from popping open. That had been heavier than the empty cauldron, and it had been a challenge to get both of them down the frozen waterfall inside the cavern. The heavy objects had banged against the ice while lowered by rope, shattering what remained clinging to the sheer rock face.
The wind had kicked up while they had been loading the skiff. They had pulled the boat onto the ice so hadn't had to worry about it overturning as the lake surface became agitated, but now that they were in the water they were buffeted by air currents and waves. The good news is that the sudden wind had blown away the fog, and the full sail meant they were making good time back to town. The bad news was that not all of them could swim, which would be a problem if the boat tipped. Dejen seemed particularly agitated as he gripped the sides of the boat tightly.
Pariah continued to stare at the chest. "Do you think this chest belonged to the husband of the White Lady?" she asked abruptly, raising her voice to be heard above the blustery weather.
Zariel turned from scanning the water to look at the chest. "If so," she said, "then we should return it to his family."
"It's salvage," Eberic said. "Fair game for anyone."
"He's right," Scython added. "And there would be no way to prove ownership. Neither of them have any local family. They came here from the south, Luskan I think. Any relatives are going to be back there."
The thief in Pariah whispered that that meant the gold was free to claim, but the starving street kid in her thought about the families of the lost fishers. Losing a loved one was hard; losing an income was often harder. She was well known as a soft touch in the Outer City, and she'd never been able to hold onto money long. Besides, here in the frozen north, there wasn't much to spend a fortune on.
Well, that was a thought for another time, and a personal one. It made sense to divide it up and let each of them make a choice, with a half-share for Scython since it would have been impossible without him. She wished she'd thought to discuss that with the others while they were still in the cave. It would be an awkward conversation to have in front of him right now.
The wind tore across them, forcing them deeper into their furs. The boat pitched far more than it had on the way out, but Scython stoically piloted the craft, one hand on the rudder and one hand on the line. If the captain wasn't worried, then Pariah wasn't going to be. The sunlight faded before they got back to Easthaven, but their magical lights illuminated the area ahead.
There were a two other boats mooring when they arrived, fishing boats about the same size as theirs. Scython waited as their crews brought their boats ashore, carrying them up out of the water to their berths on land. Once he piloted his way to the island, Pariah and the others helped him secure the boat and then headed across the ice back to the pier. They said their goodbyes, since Scython was headed back to the Wet Trout while Pariah's group had other business.
She lingered behind as the others headed off, Bjarnson carrying the cauldron and Zariel the chest. She said to Scython, "Once we've divide all this up, I'll make sure some of it comes your way. Least we can do for the help."
He gave her a grateful nod. "Appreciated. If you meet with Captain Arlaggath, let her know that I'm willing to make a run back out there to recover the bodies."
"We will." She waved a good night and then hurried to join the rest of her crew.
As she did, Bjarnson said, "We should head back to the inn."
Zariel's hood blew back as she turned to face him. She struggled to grab it and pull it forward as she said, "We should inform the captain of our findings."
Bjarnson waved towards the wind. "This is going to get worse quickly. Let's get to shelter. Captain'll be there in the morning."
Zariel looked up into the sky and then said, "I suppose you are right. Nothing can be done tonight anyhow."
Pariah interjected, "We should head straight up to our rooms. I don't want to sit in the common area with a chest of gold. In fact..." She took off her cloak and draped it over the chest that Zariel was carrying. The bitter cold tore into her, but she was the one best suited to endure it for a few minutes. The cauldron didn't look immediately valuable, and now the chest of gold looked like a bundle of furs.
She needn't have bothered. The bent bell clunked as they opened the door and were met with the smell of a wood fire. It was between lunch and supper, so there was nobody in the dining room to the left. Rinaldo was nowhere to be seen. Bartaban was hunched over the reception counter repairing a broken broom handle with thick glue. He looked up as the door opened, grunted in their direction, and then went back to his work.
They turned down the hall to the room that Bjarnson and Dejen shared, since it was nearest. It was a little cramped with all of them inside, but they managed. Pariah put the chest on one of the beds and said, "Let's divide this up first just to get it out of the way."
"Are we sure we want to keep this?" Zariel said. "I still feel it belongs to the man's family."
Pariah shrugged. "You heard Scython. It's fair salvage, and his family doesn't live here anyhow. Besides, we don't know if it was his chest or not."
"We could ask the ghost of his wife. It might put her to rest."
"That's true," Pariah admitted. She hadn't thought of that. "But she never saw it. She died before he got back."
"Her spirit might have seen it when he went out on the lake." Then she frowned. "Or perhaps not. If she lingers in this world, then perhaps it means she hasn't found him."
Eberic leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "If it is his chest, and it was in those caves, it's likely his bones are in there as well. Maybe that's what she needs."
"A grave for his remains," Zariel mused. "You may be correct."
Dejen observed, "There were a lot of bones in those caves."
"We'll find him if he's there," Zariel insisted.
Pariah looked at the chest, still roped to keep the warped lid closed. "All right, I'm willing to talk to the ghost about this. But regardless, we should divide this up." Before Zariel could object, she pressed on, "Because a chest full of gold is a big target for thieves. We split it and then talk to the ghost. If she wants us to send the money home or something, then we can talk about what to do."
"So you can keep it," Zariel accused.
"No, actually," Pariah replied. "Some of it, maybe. But I'll probably give a least part my share to the families of the fishers who were lost."
Zariel looked nonplussed at her answer.
Pariah said, "And I also think that, regardless of what we do with the rest of it, Scython deserves a half-share for his role in recovering this."
"That seems...fair," Zariel said. This conversation didn't seem to be going the way she expected.
Pariah started working on the knot tying the chest closed. "But for now, let's count it and divide it among us. It will be safer that way."
Bjarnson had put the cauldron on the other bed and was sitting next to it. "What about this?" he asked.
Pariah glanced over at it. "It's no good to us. It's way more food than we need."
Eberic said, "I'm sure the innkeeper or the tavern owner would pay us for it."
Pariah made an uncertain noise. "I think I want to talk to the speaker, either here or in Bryn Shander. There are people living on the street who are struggling. I'd rather see them fed than see some business owner get rich."
She got the knot off and turned the chest over, dumping its contents on the bed. She was half expecting more dead body parts, but there was nothing but coins and gems. They set about totaling up the value. The coins were simple to count. Dejen was able to make what seemed like a good estimate of the value of the gems. All in all, the value was a bit over three thousand gold. They calculated the shares, and Pariah took possession of the pouch of gold that was Scython's piece of it.
With that done, they all headed back to the dining room for hot mead and an early supper.
Pariah watched as Rinaldo puttered about the dimly lit room in his ceremonial robes. He mumbled as he lit sticks of incense, though she couldn't make out actual words. The more she listened, the more certain she was that it was gibberish. Regardless of his game, he had summoned the spirit before and that had clearly been no scam. As he finished, he gave Pariah a sharp look. She gave him back her best innocent expression and clapped a hand over her mouth. He hadn't wanted her to attend at all, but she had sworn she'd stay silent.
The window was still boarded over. He had said it would take a few more days for the new window to be finished. That reminded her they still needed to order the replacement fixtures for the shrine in Bryn Shander, and that made her sad about Mishann's death again. So much had been happening that she had stored it away for later, but the memory was still there.
Leaning against the wall by the boarded-up window was a single, large pane of glass not in a frame. It wasn't the same shape or kind of glass as had been in the window before so it didn't seem like a replacement. Besides, the glazier wouldn't bring over a single, unmounted pane of glass. She wasn't sure why it was there.
Dejen was standing with her. Eberic and Bjarnson were waiting in the dining room outside just in case there was trouble again. There were four other spectators but Pariah had eyes only for Rinaldo as he finished his preparations. He clapped his hands and said, "The ceremony is about to begin. Please remember not to speak during the ritual." He glared at Pariah again before continuing, "I must warn you that summoning the spirits of the dead can be a terrifying experience. If you are of weak constitution or subject to nightmares, you should leave now."
He sat cross-legged in front of a candle on a plate on the floor. Across from him sat Zariel with Lulu perched on her knee. The empty and warped wooden chest was on the floor next to her. She was the only one who would be asking questions. Pariah had plopped down ten dragon coins in front of Rinaldo, asking if that was enough to give the three questions to only one person. His eyes had widened slightly before he gave her a wide smile and assured her that he would be happy to offer her that special deal.
The halfling raised his arms towards the ceiling, the wide sleeves of his black robe falling back to his elbows. He called out, "Lady of the lake, we beseech you to visit us and grace us with your wisdom. Come to these humble petitioners in our dark time and answer their questions. White Lady, come!"
As had happened before, the air grew colder. A sheet of frost formed on the pane of glass leaning against the wall, and Pariah remembered how the White Lady communicated her answers. She realized that was probably why they had brought in the glass. The candles around the room were snuffed out one by one, leaving only the single flame between Rinaldo and Zariel. The light flickered as the air moved and a presence entered the room.
"Thank you, White Lady, for granting us the honor of your presence," Rinaldo called out. To Zariel he said, "Ask each of your questions and wait for the answer before asking the next. Three questions only!"
Zariel bowed her head and folded her hands, taking a moment of silent prayer before raising her head again and saying, "We discovered that a lake hag has been prowling Lac Dinneshere. Were you killed by this creature?"
The air swirled around, a bit more agitated than before and carrying a sense of dread. Pariah looked to the glass and saw a line appear there, slowly spelling out an answer: "WITCH'S BANQUET".
Pariah scowled at the answer. It seemed like a yes, but why not just say that? It was as bad as talking to one of the immortals.
Zariel nodded and said, "I am so sorry that happened to you. The hag is dead and among her things we found this chest that clearly was submerged for a long time. Did this chest belong to your husband?"
The air stirred again, more slowly this time, and the candle flame flickered pensively. Another answer was slowly written in the ice on the window: "UNSEEN UNKNOWN".
Zariel accepted the answer and continued. "There were the remains of many in the hag's lair. One can assume that you and your husband are among them. Would interring your remains free your spirit to move on?"
Again the air swirled in agitation, but without the dark feelings that had accompanied the first response. It took a long time for the spirit to answer, but eventually she wrote simply: "HOPE".
Zariel bowed her head. "Thank you for your time. We intend to recover the lost from the hag's lair. Let us all hope that this action will bring you peace."
The air stopped moving and the invisible presence faded.
Rinaldo watched Zariel thoughtfully before shaking himself out of his reverie and standing. "Thank you all for your attendance. There will be another séance tomorrow night. I hope to see you all there."
The spectators headed back out to the dining room, except for a woman with an overbite who wore a violet robe. She went up to Zariel and asked, "You say there is some kind of monster in the lake?"
Zariel had regained her feet. "Not any more. We destroyed the abomination in her lair along with a couple of harpies."
The woman wrung her hands. "But you think she was taking the missing fishers?"
"Some of them, yes, though there are likely other dangers as well." She reached out to put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Have you lost someone?"
"Yes," the woman sighed. "A friend has been missing for several weeks. I had hoped somehow he would find his way back, but even being able to recover him for burial would give some comfort to those of us who cared about him. Do you know when the remains will be available to be identified."
Zariel's comforting smile faded and she started to stammer, "Well...um...I'm afraid I don't...you might have to..."
Pariah stepped forward to intervene. As gently as she could, she said, "It looks like the hag has been operating in the area for a number of years. There are many people to recover. And..." She hesitated, not sure how to express herself. "Well, identification may be difficult."
The woman looked puzzled for a moment and then understanding dawned. "I see," she said softly. Then with fragile bravery, she continued, "Well, that's not so unusual. Animal attacks and so on are common."
"There were a number of possessions in the cave," Pariah said. "If there was something distinctive your friend carried, that might allow you to identify him." And know that he was eaten by a hag, she thought to herself. She also suddenly wondered if anyone knew of three missing children, but that was an investigation that the town guard could deal with. She added, "I'm sure that Captain Arlaggath will arrange some way to identify anyone missing."
"I imagine so," the woman said. "Well, thank you." She hurried out of the room.
Rinaldo had lit the two lanterns on the walls; presumably the candles he used during the ritual were more séance-y than lamps. Pariah watched him gathering up his things, wondering if he was happy that the ghost might finally be allowed to rest, or if he was sad that he was losing his meal ticket.
"We should go speak with the captain," Zariel said. She had wanted to see the guard captain immediately, but then had agreed that speaking with the ghost at the nightly séance would be a valuable use of their time.
"I want to stop at the Wet Trout on the way," Pariah said as they headed back out to the dining room. Zariel frowned at her, and Pariah clarified, "To drop off Scython's payment."
Bjarnson and Eberic were waiting patiently at a table in the dining room, which was starting to fill up. As the group approached them, Bjarnson said, "So, how did it go?"
Zariel replied, "It seems likely that she and her husband were victims of the hag. She didn't know if the chest belonged to him."
Pariah added, "I know we've kind of kicked around the idea, but I think we need to go along to recover the bodies."
Bjarnson said, "Grim work, but I agree."
Zariel added, "I would think that recovering their remains and giving them proper burials would free any souls that haven't moved on, such as the White Lady's."
"Strange," Dejen mumbled. Then, in a more conversational tone, he said, "I wonder why her spirit stayed. There were many victims in those caves, so why is the lake not full of ghosts?"
Zariel shook her head. "Perhaps it was unfinished business with her husband. Perhaps she was trying to warn others." She shrugged. "Even I don't know all of the ins and outs of how souls move from this plane to the next."
Dejen perked up. "Is it something you know a lot about, then? I'd be fascinated to talk more about it with you."
Zariel was suddenly nervous. "Well, it's something I've dabbled in. A bit. I don't really know that much." Quickly she added, "So, shall we go see the captain?"
Pariah suppressed a smile, though she knew Zariel's nervousness wasn't really a joking matter. She couldn't imagine how the others would react if they found out more about her past. It was certainly not something to dwell on, so she said, "Yeah, let's get over there before she goes off duty."
Notes:
The module doesn't say anything about the hag's gold belonging to the White Lady's husband, but when you come across a chest full of treasure found by a sea hag in a lake where a guy disappeared with a chest full of treasure, it's not that big an intuitive leap.
The chest is supposed to contain 600 gold and then the PCs can sell the cauldron to the town for another 2500 gold. The first problem is that 600 gold isn't that much in terms of volume. It wouldn’t be need a chest; it would be a small coffer. And yet the container is supposed to be large enough to conceal four crawling claws in the gold.
The other problem is I felt a little iffy about them wanting money for an item so important to the survival of the townspeople. I had some dialogue in my head about 2500 gold not being that much to the town, and money doesn't do anyone any good to an area isolated by the Everlasting Rime and so on, but it still didn't sit right especially since the town was just crying poor about a bounty for the missing fishers. By putting the full 3100 gp into the chest, the PCs still get reimbursed and they are more motivated to donate rather than sell the cauldron.
Chapter 55: Food From an Empty Cauldron
Summary:
Pariah and her companions speak with Easthaven authorities to discuss what happened in the hag cave.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 3, 1496 (2 days after the Full Moon)
Galbek Atteberry, the speaker of Easthaven, was listening carefully as Zariel told the story about what had transpired in the hag cave. He had the features of a dwarf, though his few extra inches of height and his clean-shaven face indicated he was only half-dwarven. He was dressed in expensive clothing of dark colors, and his flowing black hair was secured with a gold clasp in the back. His purplish-blue eyes looked past Zariel as she spoke, though that wasn't because he wasn't listening. Captain Arlaggath had informed them that the speaker was blind.
The group had met with the captain the previous evening to report on their expedition, and she had accepted the news of a cannibal witch with stoic resolve. She had said that, though news of a monster would likely get out, it would be best to describe the condition of the bodies as "gotten to by animals" rather than tell people the truth. The plan was to head back to the cavern after the group had a day to rest, and she was appreciative of the help they offered.
As promised, they were given the chance to go through the possessions of Dzaan, the wizard who had been executed the night of their first arrival in town. His belongings were mostly basic survival gear, and a small collection of books and scrolls. His book of spells had already been confiscated by the town, though it was of no use to anyone in their group anyhow. He had an atlas of Icewind Dale that included a section on the area's climate and history, two books on magical theories that were over Pariah's head, a history book about an ancient empire called Netheril, and a personal journal written in a code that Pariah couldn't make heads or tails out of.
Although the reference materials were exciting to Pariah, and to Dejen for that matter, she was a little disappointed by the lack of magic. There were only two arcane objects among his possessions. One was a pouch with countless small pockets that held strange materials such as an eyelash encased in gum arabic, tufts of fur from at least two different animals, a piece of copper wire, empty nut shells, and pellets that she was pretty sure were animal droppings. Dejen said these were items used by certain spellcasters. He was quite excited by a pearl in the pouch, saying it was useful for divination magic.
The other unusual item was more useful: a scroll that contained a short protection ritual against the undead. That had gone to Dejen.
They had told Captain Arlaggath about the cauldron they had found, and that's why they were at the speaker's office today. The group had agreed to donate the cauldron to the town. The witch's treasure had been sufficient reward. Eberic had suggested that the town would be able to pay for a reward as the cauldron would pay for itself within a couple of weeks, but he hadn't argued his case with much enthusiasm. Pariah and Zariel had both felt strongly that a donation would be more appropriate in the circumstances. Plus it was hard to justify holding up a starving town for a reward when they were standing next to a big pile of gold coins.
However, Pariah wanted some assurances about how this would be used by Easthaven, and that was why they were in the speaker's office at the moment. The captain didn't have the authority to make promises, so she had escorted them to the town hall this morning to meet with the speaker.
Only Zariel and Pariah were in the office with Captain Arlaggath and Speaker Atteberry, the four of them sitting in high-backed chairs around a wooden table. The others of their group were taking care of matters such as ordering the new fixtures for the House of the Morning lord in Bryn Shander, buying medicine for the prisoners in Caer-Dineval, and securing more dogs for their sleds.
As Zariel reached the point in the story where she was telling Speaker Atteberry about the cauldron, which was currently on the table before them. Pariah stood from the chair she had been lounging in. They had planned a demonstration, and she picked up the story from where Zariel had stopped.
"One of our companions figured out this cauldron magically makes soup," Pariah said as Zariel started pouring from her water skin into the pot. Pariah continued, "We are adding just regular water. You can add other ingredients, but all you need is water."
As Zariel finished, Pariah started stirring with a metal ladle she had swiped from the kitchen at the White Lady Inn. "As soon as you start stirring, the water transforms into hot soup. The cauldron heats itself but doesn't get hot enough to burn. Go ahead and touch it. The metal is warm but not hot."
Atteberry's brow furrowed, but he reached out in front of him until his fingertips touched the vessel. He jerked his hand back reflexively, but then touched it again. He ran his fingers over the embossed figures, and then laid his entire palm against the side. "Interesting," he mumbled.
Zariel was holding out a wooden bowl, also borrowed without permission from the inn for the sake of the demonstration. The water had turned to thick, creamy, brown broth and a savory smell filled the office. Since they had used only a little water, there was only a little soup. Pariah scraped up a ladleful and poured it into the bowl, which Zariel held out towards the speaker. "Here is a bowl for you to try. It's just to the right of your right hand."
Atteberry cautiously reached out until his fingers touched the side of the bowl, and then he gripped it in both hands. He brought it up to his face, inhaled the aroma, and then blew on it. He carefully sipped from the edge of the bowl. "That's quite good," he said in surprise.
"Exactly," Pariah said. "As near as we can tell, it's tasty and nutritious just with water. Adding meat or vegetables makes it better but, like I said, isn't necessary."
Atteberry put the soup down on the table. "And you say this can be used three times per day?" He reached out to touch the cauldron again, this time patting it with both hands to get a feel for the size.
"Yes," Pariah said. "Our companion has studied its magic, and says that's how the spell works. There doesn't appear to be any other limit on it."
"I see," the speaker said, leaning back in his chair. His tone hardened a bit as he looked in Pariah's direction and asked, "And what is your price?"
"No price," she assured him. "We want to donate it to the town."
"You do?" he replied skeptically.
"We do. However, we do have some conditions, and we are going to want these promises in writing."
"I see." The speaker seemed both less and more wary in response to her statement.
Pariah continued, "Obviously this can't feed the entire town. The families of any fishers lost on the lake should have first claim on the food."
"Oh," Atteberry said in surprise. "Yes, that seems reasonable."
"And then anyone who's living on the street or doesn't have a job. They come next."
The speaker frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose I can see to that. And then?"
"And then whoever you want. But those in need get fed first. And we want that in writing."
Atteberry nodded. "Very well, that seems reasonable. I'll have my secretary draw up-"
"And I want you to stop the monthly sacrifice," Pariah interjected.
A stunned silence hung over the room. Zariel turned a surprised expression on her. This hadn't been part of their original plan. In fact, Pariah hadn't even thought of it until she had been sitting in that room.
Atteberry's mouth was still open from what he had been saying before. He closed it slowly and scowled in Pariah's direction. "There's no way we can do that. We have to protect ourselves from Auril's wrath."
"Many towns sacrifice food or warmth," Pariah pointed out. "You can do that instead."
"We've tried that. It's not enough. I don't know why, but the Aurilites say only the sacrifice of lives will satisfy Auril as to our devotion."
"Devotion," Pariah spat. "Call it what it is: fear."
Atteberry's scowl faded. "Perhaps, but that doesn't change the reality of things. The larger towns have to sacrifice lives. Last new moon, someone interfered with the Targos lottery and the town was buried in a blizzard that lasted several days. We can't risk Auril's anger, so if that's your price, then I'm afraid we can't come to a deal."
Pariah studied Atteberry, but he didn't seem to be bluffing.
Zariel said, "Perhaps you could simply change the lottery. Use Bryn Shander's model and make it voluntary."
Pariah was surprised by Zariel's suggestion, though pleasantly so. She had been about to suggest the same thing. She never for a moment thought she could convince the speaker to cancel the lottery, but that's basic negotiation: make an absurd offer so that your real offer seems like you are doing them a favor. Trying to seem reluctant, she said, "I could live with that."
Atteberry drummed his fingers on the table next to his cooling bowl of soup. "I don't see how we could get enough volunteers to be able to maintain the lottery and keep Auril and her cult off our backs."
"Actually," Zariel said, "Speaker Shane tells us that Bryn Shander has very high participation. People trying to protect the people they love. The more who volunteer, the safer each individual is."
The speaker pursed his lips. "Is that all you want?" he asked sharply.
"That's all I want," Pariah said. "Zariel, anything else?"
The other woman said, "I think that agreement would be satisfactory."
Atteberry continued to drum his fingers. "That's not an easy thing you are asking. Especially since the new moon is only a bit over a tenday away."
Pariah shrugged. "Well, if it's a problem, we can always take this to Bryn Shander since they already have a voluntary lottery."
The speaker glowered at her, but finally said, "Fine, but it will take a couple of days. This isn't something I can just do. I'll have to get the agreement of town leaders and enact a new law."
"Great," Pariah replied brightly. "Then we'll be happy to turn the cauldron over to you after that's done."
Captain Arlaggath said, "I suggest you let us keep it. It's a valuable object and we have a strongroom here." She looked towards the speaker and added, "I imagine that's where it will be kept in future."
"Probably, probably," Atteberry mumbled absently. "Yes, store it in there until this is worked out."
"I don't think so," Pariah said suspiciously. "We should keep this in our possession until the deal is done."
Atteberry scowled at her. "It's going to be a dangerous item to hold on to. Once word gets out, any number of people, even agents from other towns, are going to try and steal it. It's not going to be safe in your room at the inn."
"We'll manage," she insisted.
Zariel interjected, "Now, wait a moment. I think the speaker has a point. If they have a secure location, that sounds like the best option. It's in no one's interest to have this stolen by another party."
"I'm not letting the cauldron out of my sight," Pariah insisted.
Zariel huffed in frustration. "We are still getting what we want, so why not let them take possession immediately? I see no problem with that."
Pariah didn't really want to have this conversation in front of the speaker and the captain, but she didn't see any easy way to take Zariel out of the room, so she plunged ahead. "That's because you trust the ruling class. I don't. They can have the cauldron when they come up with their part of the deal. If they want it in a strongroom, fine, but then I'm in the strongroom with it."
Zariel pursed her lips. She turned to the speaker and said, "Would something like that be possible?"
"Let a stranger stay in the strongroom where we keep all of our valuables? No." He raised a hand to forestall objection and added, "But I suppose you could stay in the storage area outside the vault. Nothing there but furniture and outdated files. It's not as secure as the strongroom, but it does have only one door in, and there are two city guards stationed in the building at all times."
Pariah was hesitant to agree, still expecting some kind of double cross. Atteberry added, "And it would allow us to start using the cauldron to feed people right away."
She had to admit that was a very good point. She mumbled, "Let's see this store room first."
"Captain, take them there."
"Of course, speaker," Captain Arlaggath said. To the other two, she said, "Please, follow me."
Zariel took the cauldron from the table, shooting Pariah a scowl as she did. The tiefling didn't care. Let the ex-angel trust people; Pariah had lived too long on the streets to believe that city leaders cared about the nobodies.
Arlaggath led them back out into reception, a large room at the front of the town hall with a ceiling a good twenty feet up. A human woman with long hair streaked black and white watched them with bright blue eyes from behind her reception desk. Three people -- two humans and a dwarf, all men -- sat on the benches to one side of the room. The walls held a number of oil paintings depicting life in Easthaven, including a large painting of the town that hung on the wall near the door to the speaker's office. On the opposite wall hung a stuffed knucklehead nearly as long as Pariah was tall, with an engraved plate that informed viewers this was Big Knuck and was caught in 1479 DR. A stairway behind the reception desk rose to a landing where it split into two stairways along the back wall that led to the second of three floors.
The captain took them to a door next to the mounted knucklehead, which led into an office with a half-dozen desks and walls lined with file cabinets. A half-elven man and a dwarven woman glanced up as they entered but then went back to the ledgers they were working on. There was nobody else in the office.
On the far wall was another door. It had a lock, but the captain opened it without a key. This brought them into a dark room, and Zariel summoned light to reveal the place. The smell of dust and mold filled the space. Dozens of wooden chairs were stacked against one wall, and wooden crates were in a haphazard pile against another. Writing on the crates revealed they contained records such as fishing licenses and town finances from years past.
Pariah knew they were in the southeast corner of the building, so the walls ahead and to the right should be exterior walls. On the left were two doors, and both were solid, banded with metal, and locked tight with heavy padlocks.
Arlaggath pointed to the left door and said, "This is where we will keep the cauldron. It contains various town valuables and is quite secure. One of you can stay here to keep an eye on the cauldron."
Pariah nodded towards the right door and asked, "And what's in there?"
"Nothing that's any of your concern," the captain said firmly.
That just piqued the tiefling's interest even more, but she tried to tamp her curiosity as she looked around the space. "It looks like there's room for all of us," she said.
Arlaggath pursed her lips. "One of you can stay here," she repeated. "This isn't an inn."
Pariah turned to Zariel. "I don't think we should split up."
The other woman nodded sagely. She moved up to Captain Arlaggath and smiled at her. She radiated a serene calm as she said, "Captain, I understand your reluctance, but I agree with my companion. Our efforts to help the citizens of Easthaven and Bryn Shander have earned us some enemies. It is best that we stay together. It should only be for a night or two, and we will do our best to stay out of everyone's way." She waved towards the dusty contents of the storage area. "It doesn't look like this room sees much traffic so I don't believe our presence will interfere with anything."
The captain's mouth moved soundlessly for a moment and then she said in resignation, "Fine. You can all stand guard here until the speaker has done her negotiation. Don't make a mess! I'll get the key to the strongroom. Stay here."
She headed out towards the administrative area, leaving the door open. Pariah said softly, "I think that went well."
"I agree," Zariel replied. She gave Pariah an appraising look. "You didn't tell me you were going to try to change the lottery."
"I didn't know I was," Pariah said with an apologetic shrug. "It was a spur of the moment thing."
"I'm glad you did, though. I wish we could stop the practice entirely, but this is at least a positive step."
"Agreed," Pariah replied as she looked towards the two locked doors. She couldn’t help but wonder how easily those locks could be picked. Not that she'd do such a thing.
At least while anyone was looking.
Zariel said, "I don't think you are being fair to them, though. Do you really think they would cheat us?"
Pariah shrugged. "I'm not willing to take the chance. The kind of leaders who'd sacrifice members of their own town aren't people I'm going to trust. I don't care about their reasons. I don't care about their hurt feelings." Then something occurred to her and she mumbled, "Talona's tits."
"What is it?" Zariel asked.
The captain came back with a large iron key. Glancing at the simple design of the key, Pariah guessed the locks would be easy to pick, but that wasn't her concern at the moment. She said, "Captain, could the trip back to the witch's cave be delayed a couple of days?"
She turned to Pariah suspiciously. "Why?"
"Because I want to wait until this has been settled," she waved towards the cauldron Zariel was holding. "Plus we all got beat up in the fight. Having a couple days to rest would help. I don't know what else might be left in those caves, and it's not like the bodies are going anywhere."
Arlaggath tapped the key against her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose that's true. And I'd appreciate the extra swords. All right, we can wait a couple of days."
"Do you think it will take long for the speaker to change the law on the lottery?"
The captain had gone to the left door and turned the key in the lock. She stood there, holding the key silently for a time. "A lot of people have problems with the lottery. The idea of a voluntary one has been suggested before, since Bryn Shander showed us it can work." She turned to look at Pariah over her shoulder. "But it's never passed, and I don't know that anything's different this time."
She opened the door and motioned towards Zariel, who carried the cauldron towards her. There was still a little soup inside, which sloshed around as she moved. Arlaggath took the cauldron from her and carried it into the small room beyond.
Beyond the doorway was a good-sized room, not just a small vault. Sets of wooden shelves were set against the walls. In the dark space were several chests, a couple casks of wine, crates with writing that Pariah couldn't read at this distance, and a few other things. The captain set the cauldron down next to a wine cask and then came back out and locked the door.
She fixed both the adventurers with a stern eye. "I appreciate the donation of the cauldron and your effort to change the lottery. But if anything is missing from any room of this building, I'm going to come after you. Understood?"
"Of course," Zariel said.
"We're not going to take anything," Pariah assured him. She was possibly even telling the truth.
Notes:
This module and Legacy of the Crystal Shard both have Danneth Waylen as the speaker of Easthaven. He is described as "respected for his humility and forthrightness". Well, that just doesn't work if you consider the kind of leader who would authorize a human sacrifice lottery. It was hard enough with Duvessa Shane, but she comes off as pragmatic enough to make hard compromises for the greater good. Originally I was just going to change his alignment and move on, but the fact he is described in the previous module makes it harder to change canon. Instead, I decided to replace him with my own character.
I changed the rewards for the hag quest to give them something more useful, and also something that makes more sense once you know who the wizard actually was (which will be revealed later).
I rearranged the town hall interior a bit. I also moved the jail cells to underneath the barracks. Zariel used her Emissary of Peace against Captain Arlaggath to give her a passive persuasion of 20.
Chapter 56: Breaking the Silence
Summary:
The group camps out in the Easthaven Town Hall, waiting for the new lottery law to be passed.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 4, 1496 (3 days after the Full Moon)
Nobody in the group seemed to agree with Pariah that the speaker might cheat them, but nobody objected strongly either. The one thing they did be of the same mind about was that they shouldn't split up, fearing retaliation from the Aurilites or the duergar, so they moved their possessions from the White Lady Inn to the storeroom in the town hall. The speaker grumbled a little about it but didn't actually kick them out or limit them to one person.
Bjarnson was now sporting a nice looking cloak of white fur. The leatherworker at Skin and Bones had made it from the crag cat skin they had brought days before. In addition to being warm, it carried some of the crag cat's unnatural ability to hide. When he didn't move, the fur tended to take on the colors of his surroundings. It didn't have much of an impact sitting in a dusty storeroom, but was probably quite effective camouflage out in the snowy tundra.
They had also ordered the furniture for Bryn Shander and bought the medicine needed in Caer-Dineval, which was probably where they would head next. Bjarnson had bought crampons for everyone, which would be helpful when they went back to the icy cave. Finally, they had secured more dogs so they now had full teams of twelve for each of the two sleds.
The first night in the storeroom passed quietly. The following morning, the speaker had them set the cauldron up on a table in the square in front of the hall. A crier had gone through town the previous night, notifying the citizens of the free meal for families in need. Not a lot of people showed up that first cold morning, but those that did left with bellies full of warm stew. It was a festive atmosphere in a plaza that a tenday earlier had held a public execution.
Larger crowds showed up for lunch and dinner as word got out. The stew was supplemented with meat, mushrooms, and what forage people could spare, which stretched the stew to serve more people. Occasionally families of missing fishers or people living on the street were ushered to the front of the line, but it was mostly first come first serve. The crowd was well behaved and even cheerful.
Other than that, the group didn't have much to do but rest. Pariah discovered there was a public library on the third floor of the town hall. Since she wasn't a resident she wasn't allowed to take books out of the room, but she spent a lot of the day up there reading what she could. The collection was nothing impressive, but she was always happy to read something new.
The speaker informed them that there wasn't much resistance to the new law. His secretary had gone to Bryn Shander to talk to them about how they administered their lottery, and she would be back by evening. The town leaders were bickering over wording, but they would vote the following morning and the speaker expected it to pass. After that would be a drive to encourage townspeople to sign up in time for a drawing on the next new moon.
The festive gatherings around the cauldron, and the hope of a change in the lottery, seemed to bring a sense of additional joy to a town that had always tried to see the positive side of things. Even now, in the middle of the Everlasting Rime, Easthaven was notorious throughout Ten-Towns for having maintained an optimistic outlook that things would somehow work out. It was a refreshing change from the gloom and doom elsewhere in Icewind Dale, even if Pariah thought it was a little naïve.
Still, as she settled in for her second night in the storeroom, a hailstorm pounding on the walls of the building, she felt good about the positive changes they were making here.
Flamerule 5, 1496 (4 days after the Full Moon)
"Pariah, wake up," Zariel hissed in her ear.
The tiefling grunted a question as she muzzily awoke from a dreamless sleep. She looked up at Zariel, dimly lit by Dejen's low-flame lantern they had left burning. Zariel put a finger over her lips and whispered, "Something is happening." She pointed towards the two locked doors. "Lulu discovered some kind of silence magic there. I fear someone is breaking into the vault. Wake the others while I fetch the guards."
Pariah shook her head to try to wake herself up as Zariel moved towards the door to the office area, her sock-clad feet not making a sound on the stone floor. Pariah quickly woke the others. Lulu said, "I've peeked under the door and all I see is feet. There are four of them. And I can see something else, something black in the middle of the room. They are gathered around it but I can't tell what they are doing."
The group quickly readied weapons and shields, but none of them were wearing armor or even boots at the moment. Pariah was also aware that she was basically out of magic, and she was pretty sure the others were as well. She took a moment to slip on the necklace of ice she had gotten from Avarice, but there was no time to do anything else.
Zariel returned with the two guards stationed in the reception area. Earlier in the evening, they had chatted a bit with the group as they had made their rounds. Vance was scrawny and had a bit of a hunch, and sported curly auburn hair and a patchy beard. Wilhina wore white leather gloves, though they were getting dingy with time, and her eyes were bloodshot; she had told them she was having trouble adjusting to the night shift and hadn't been able to sleep well during the day.
"This way," Zariel said softly to them as she led them towards the locked door on the right, the door that hadn't been opened when the cauldron had been stored. The two guards stopped as they neared the door, looking around in confusion. The woman said something but nothing came out of her mouth. She tried again, and then looked annoyed. She pulled the man away from the door.
"-until you can hear me. Oh, there we go," she said in satisfaction. "You wait by the door. I don't want to ring the bell unless we know something is happening. It might just be something harmless about that damned figurehead."
Lulu said, "I can see people inside the room."
The guard made a thoughtful noise. "Let's wait anyhow. I don't want to get everyone all riled up for nothing." She pulled a key from her belt and looked over the rest of the group. "You should probably all wait in the next room."
Zariel drew herself up and said, "I will stand by your side."
"Yeah," Pariah agreed. "None of us are going anywhere."
"All right," Wilhina said reluctantly, "but keep back. Most thieves just run or surrender. Let's not start something if we don't have to." Despite that, she held her spear at the ready in her left hand as she approached the door.
Pariah and Zariel followed her, with the others setting up nearby. As they neared the door, all sound suddenly stopped. They were surrounded by a silence so complete that it felt like pressure in Pariah's ears. She strained to hear anything and resisted the urge to try to break the unnatural quiet with a shout. She couldn't help but think that this would be a good cover for a heist.
Wilhina carefully put the key in the big, black lock on the door and turned it slowly. She took hold of the handle and looked behind her to see that everyone was set. Pariah, standing behind and to the guard's right, had her shield and sword ready. Zariel was in the same stance on the left and Eberic was a few steps behind them. Pariah knew the woman was right; the average thief didn't want to fight. When presented with this many opponents, she hoped whoever it was would just give up, but there was no reason to believe that was going to happen.
The guard turned back, braced herself, and flung open the door.
Through the doorway, a tableau froze in the oppressive silence. In the middle of the room was a huge black crystal carving of a winged demon that nearly touched the eight-foot ceiling. It faced right so Pariah could see the rotted wood attached to its back; this was a ship's figurehead. Three gray-skinned duergar stood around the statue with their picks raised. Chunks of broken, black chardalyn littered the floor. There was a hole in the far corner of the room and the head of a giant badger stuck out of it, watching the others curiously. In the other corner was another duergar who seemed to be overseeing the operation. His face was drawn and pale, even for one of the gray dwarves. His ashen beard was stained with red around his mouth, and his eyes shone with unnatural light.
Everyone on both sides of the door froze for a heartbeat, and then the duergar near the door hacked at Wilhina with his pick. She backed away, shouting noiselessly at the other guard as she raised her spear into a defensive position. It was obvious to Pariah that these thieves weren't about to surrender, so she tore one of the two remaining beads off her necklace. The duergar stepped through the doorway, his form starting to expand as he used his race's ability to enlarge themselves. Pariah crushed the stone and directed the frozen torrent at the intruder. It blew past him to fill the room with a silent storm of ice.
The lead duergar pushed through the gale and continued to grow. The ceiling inside the vault was only eight feet, but this main storeroom was two stories high. He towered over her and she stepped back against the wall next to the door. He bellowed at them, again in total silence, and swung his huge pick at Zariel, Wilhina, Eberic and Pariah as they harassed him. The blows were clumsy and it seemed he was trying to drive them back rather than actually hit any of them.
Run away, whispered a voice in her mind. Pariah looked around in confusion until she saw the strange duergar with the bloody beard glaring at her. Run away, said the voice again.
Pariah stepped back, away from the door to the vault, her legs moving on their own. With the space around the door cleared, another duergar ran out and grew to enormous size, standing to the first duergar's right. The third was nearing the door, but vines grew from between the stones of the floor inside the vault, wrapping themselves around him and the group's leader.
Meanwhile, the first duergar, having been the sole defender of the doorway, had succumbed to the concentrated attack of the group. As he fell and his body shrank back to its normal size, the gray dwarf just inside the room started to enlarge. He tore himself from the vines and pushed his way out the door, still growing until he stood over the body of his companion. The leader still struggled in his bindings.
Bjarnson had planted himself in front of the door leading out to the administrative area. The other guard was nowhere to be seen; he had presumably run for help. That left Bjarnson defending the door on his own against the second duergar who had left the vault. The others, engaged with the third and unable to maneuver due to the clutter in the room, couldn't help him. Bjarnson growled a spell through his red beard, and his skin turned brown and rough like the bark of a tree. The vines inside the vault withered away as he removed his focus from that spell.
Pariah and the others pressed the attack on the enemy by the vault, but he was surprisingly agile and his scaled armor was strong. Eberic finally landed a deep stab in the gray dwarf's hip, and the duergar launched a rapid counterattack. Zariel was able to redirect the blow with her sword, turning what might have been a fatal wound from the enormous pick into a glancing blow.
Pariah finally managed to slash between the metal scales on his armor, pouring what magic she had left into the blade's edge as it moved across his waist. The saber tore through the leather underneath and opened a deep wound. That gave Eberic the chance to press his own attack and stab upward to bury his ice dagger deep into the duergar's chest below his breastbone. The gray dwarf crashed silently to the ground, returning to his former size.
The others turned to help Bjarnson, but Pariah remembered the leader. She hadn't seen him during the battle. The giant badger was still peeking out of the tunnel in the floor, implying he hadn't escaped that way, so she stepped into the vault doorway. Nobody was inside the room but that didn't mean anything when duergar were involved. She recklessly ran in, arms spread, and slammed into an unseen figure. She reflexively wrapped her arms around him and threw her weight into him. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and sound crashed back into her as the silence spell faded.
She could hear the battle outside. "Help!" she yelled, hoping she could be heard over the fight. She couldn't handle him on her own. "I need help in here," she yelled again. Her sword had fallen to the ground and now she was just wrestling with her invisible opponent, trying to keep him from getting away.
Run away, said the voice in her mind again.
"Shut up!" she yelled at him, and slammed her head forward hoping to head butt him. He was still invisible so she hit his shoulder rather than his face and probably didn't do much damage. He squirmed out of her grip and she reached out, managing to grab a leg and hold on for dear life.
"Help!" she yelled again. Just one person would make this fight a lot easier.
"I'm here," called out Zariel as she ran into the vault, the others close behind.
"He's invisible," Pariah said. "Grab him so we can question him!"
Zariel body slammed the duergar, knocking him back to the ground. His invisibility faded, and the group dog piled on top of him as he screamed at them in Dethek. Pariah could also hear a loud clanging from the roof of the town hall; Vance must have gotten to the bell.
Eberic suddenly released the duergar and landed a right cross on Zariel's jaw. Zariel's grip on the duergar slipped in her surprise, and he tried to wriggle away, but there were too many hands holding him. Eberic said quickly, "That wasn't me!" and then growled at the prisoner, "Stop that!" He slapped his hand over the duergar's eyes and said, "Find something to blindfold him. He can't use his mind powers if he can't see."
By the time a half-dozen town guard showed up, the group had bound, blindfolded and gagged the prisoner. Eberic had said the gag wasn't necessary -- their powers were psychic rather than magical -- but they decided it was a reasonable precaution.
Eberic had stuck his head into the tunnel that came up through the floor. The badger that had apparently dug it was long gone. He said, "It looks like this just goes to the building across the street. It's not braced so it's going to collapse on its own before long."
The squad sergeant was squatting down next to him. He turned and said to one of the soldiers, "Go tell Sergeant Overhill to take her squad and search the nearby buildings, starting with that one." He pointed to the wall, presumably in the direction the tunnel led. "Warn her we are looking for duergar, and they can turn invisible."
As the soldier jogged out of the room, the sergeant looked at the prisoner. "We'll take this one to the dungeon. I imagine the captain is going to want to question him."
"She's not the only one," Eberic growled.
Zariel asked, "Are you planning to speak to the captain tonight?"
"Of course," he said. "I imagine half the town's awake because of the bell, and she'll want a report and so will the speaker."
"Then I'd like to come with you, if you can give us a moment to gather our things."
He shrugged. "I'm going to take the prisoner now. You want to follow, I'll let the captain know you are on your way."
"That will suffice," she said.
The guards grabbed the duergar and tried to get him to his feet, but he went limp and refused to cooperate. They dragged him out of the store room while they cursed at him. Three stayed behind to stand guard over the black ice figurehead.
Zariel had already started donning her armor. Pariah watched her and said, "Do you want to do this tonight? It's not worth waiting until morning?"
The other woman said, "I don't think I'll be getting back to sleep anyhow. If the captain is awake, I'd like to speak with her about this. And if they are going to interrogate him immediately, I want to be present." She paused in her actions to look at Pariah. "You don't have to come with me. I'll go alone."
Eberic said, "I'll go with you. I want to hear what he has to say too."
Bjarnson was sitting on the floor next to the exit of the storeroom. His shirt was off, revealing a chest covered in thick, red hair. He was attending as best he could to a deep gash along his side. "I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to stay here."
"Me too," said Dejen.
Pariah was torn. She was reluctant to split the group, but both locations were going to have dozens of soldiers nearby so they should be safe. She was curious what the duergar leader had to say, but she was also aching from multiple fights over a fairly short time. "I suppose I'll stay," she finally said. "Lulu, will you stay with us? So we can communicate with each other?"
"Of course," the little angel said.
Pariah sat down heavily next to her bedroll. The adrenaline was fading but she agreed with Zariel that there wasn't much chance of getting back to sleep at the moment. However, she was still fatigued, and both old and new bruises were aching. She sighed, "Let's hope we can go a day or two without anyone else trying to kill us."
Notes:
Bjarnson's new crag cat fur garment is a nature's mantle from Tasha's. It allows hiding as a bonus action when lightly obscured. I thought about some kind of spell turning ability, since that's something crag cats can do, but that seemed much too powerful.
I mentioned a while back the absurdly convoluted rest system I was testing, which tied rate of recovery to the percentage of an Adventuring Day they had experienced. I finally decided to abandon it in favor of a modified Gritty Realism system.
A night's sleep gives you the benefit of a short rest and 1/7 of the benefit of a long rest. For spells, I convert spell slots to spell points and you recover 1/7 of your total spell points, which are used to buy back spell slots. Anything that recharges on a long rest, like Zariel's Radiant Consumption or Bjarnson's Natural Recovery, will recover 1/7 per night. Zariel's sword is the exception: it recovers its limited spellcasting ability every dawn.
This will probably require me to tone down some of the combat later. I can think of two areas where it's implied that the PCs will take one or more long rests during the expedition, and it's not practical for them to rest for a week. I'll have to rebalance things to fit a week-long Adventuring Day.
For this battle, it meant only Bjarnson had any spell slots, plus Pariah and Eberic aren't at full HP. To further complicate things, nobody was wearing armor.
I'm fine with sleeping in armor without penalty. I know everyone wants to say you can't do that, but I've heard from people who cosplay in full plate that you can absolutely get a restful night's sleep in armor. It may not be the best sleep you ever had, but it's no worse than something like sleeping on the floor.
However, that doesn't mean it should be common practice to sleep in your armor if you aren't expecting an attack, and they weren't. Honestly, it doesn't even make sense for them all to be in the town hall storeroom, but this was a way to get them in the area for the duergar's attempted heist. I already split the party for the battle with the Aurilite leader; I wasn't about to do it again.
It's hard to write scenes with multiple enemies of the same type. In Avernus, I experimented in one scene by giving each devil a distinct physical trait but I didn't like the way it came out. This scene comes off a little confusing, but we'll call that the chaos of battle.
Chapter 57: Walking Wounded
Summary:
The group recovers the morning after the attack on the town hall.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 5, 1496 (4 days after the Full Moon)
Dejen pored carefully over the document before him. He, Pariah, Zariel and Speaker Atteberry were in the latter's office, sitting around the small conference table. "It's pretty standard contract language," he said. "The cauldron will be turned over to the town of Easthaven now that the new lottery law has been enacted. Possession would be forfeited back to us if the law is repealed. This section here lists feeding priorities. There is some detailed descriptions but it boils down to the families of lost fishers, the homeless and the jobless get fed first and then a daily rotation among various neighborhoods in town."
Pariah raised her eyebrows at the speaker but then, remembering he was blind, asked, "What's the purpose of that last bit?"
He looked in her direction. "I was concerned about the difficulties if we just served everyone out in the plaza. We've already seen people rushing to be first in line, and I'm afraid it might get worse. By limiting it to neighborhoods, we serve a lower population each day and there is less likely to be unrest."
"All right," she said. "Then it looks OK, Dejen?"
"Yes, it seems straightforward."
Atteberry said, "So we have an agreement?"
Pariah glanced at Zariel, who nodded, and then she said, "It looks that way." She was relieved to have one more responsibility taken off of her, and it sounded like the cauldron would really benefit the town. She went on to ask, "Any luck finding more duergar?" Captain Arlaggath had been coming out of the speaker's office as they had entered, and Pariah wondered information she had brought.
"No," the speaker said, shaking his head. "We found the other end of the tunnel as well as the badger that dug it. The animal ran off into the wilderness and the guards didn't see any point in pursuing it. Soldiers have searched the surrounding buildings but found no evidence of any more duergar." He shrugged. "Of course that doesn’t mean they aren't there, just that we haven't found them."
Zariel observed, "At least we stopped them from getting that chardalyn. I fear what they could do with so much black ice. If I may ask, why do you have so much here? It seems dangerous."
"I agree," Atteberry said glumly. "That item was a figurehead used by a vicious band of pirates a few years back. When the ship sunk, we thought it was gone, at least until some people fished it up out of the lake. Now everyone, including a couple of consultants from Dwarven Valley, assure me that any corrupting effects of the black ice reach only a foot or so from the material so I had hoped that keeping it locked up would be sufficient. I hadn't thought that thieves would silently tunnel through a stone floor. However, until we find some way to disenchant the material, it's the best we can do. Captain Arlaggath is working on a better storage vault." He drummed his fingers on the table. "The duergar you brought us before has remained resistant to questioning. I don't expect this one to be any more forthcoming. I think you mentioned he had a brother?"
"Three sons of the leader, I think," Pariah said, trying to remember what they had found out at the first duergar outpost. "So there must be a third one out there."
Atteberry mused, mostly to himself, "One north and one south. Maybe the third is to the west? Or in Bryn Shander?"
"We'll warn Sheriff Southwell if we head back that way," Zariel assured him.
Pariah said, "I noticed coming here that the street was blocked."
"Yes. The tunnel is unsafe. We are going to have to collapse it and then fill in the trench and re-cobble the street. Plus we need to build crypts for the bodies you found in the cave." He paused. "The captain is getting impatient to recover those bodies. Are you still planning to accompany her?"
"Of course," Zariel said quickly.
Pariah agreed, though wasn't quite as enthusiastic about it. Too many battles had been hard on the group and none of them were in much shape for a fight. Then again, she reasoned they had probably cleared out most of the cavern. Besides, their most important job wasn't fighting; it was recovering the bodies so these people didn't have to see the corpses of their friends after they'd been butchered by the hag. "We'll tell the captain we'll be ready in the morning. We'll recover as many as your boats will hold."
The speaker stood, indicating the meeting was over. "She's already commandeered two of the larger fishing vessels and rounded up every sheet and blanket she can for burial shrouds. The hope is to complete it all in one trip."
As he headed for the door, the others took the hint and got to their feet. He showed them out into the reception area and they said their goodbyes.
They headed back out into the cold morning. The weak dawn illuminated the streets, and the thick fog that had gripped the town that morning seemed to be clearing. Pariah debated about heading back to the White Lady to rest from her injuries like the others were, but she wanted to hear if the captain had been able to get anything out of the new prisoner. She gritted her teeth against her aching body and followed Zariel and Dejen through the streets towards the town barracks.
They found Captain Arlaggath along with a dozen soldiers in front of the sturdy, stone building. She was saying, "Sweep the woods but be careful. It'll spot you before you spot it, so keep an eye out for ambush. Make a shield wall and let the archers take it out. Dismissed!"
The sergeant saluted her and the squad headed down the street, heading east towards the edge of town.
Zariel said, "Good morning, captain." She nodded after the soldiers. "Problem?"
Captain Arlaggath gave her a tired nod. "Maybe," she sighed. "Loggers claimed they saw a peryton. I hope it was just a big gyrfalcon or something."
"What's a peryton?" Dejen asked.
"Kind of like a giant hawk with antlers. They don't usually come out of the mountains, but they need humanoid hearts as part of their mating rituals so sometimes you get hunting pairs going after the townspeople. The fact they saw only one rather than a pair makes me hope it's nothing."
Zariel said, "Would you like our help?"
The captain shook her head. "We can handle it. We have a few enchanted arrows for creatures like that. Of course, you're welcome to hunt them yourself, if you are so inclined. Skin and Bones will give a decent price for their antlers and hearts."
"I see. Perhaps we'll make a pass through the forest."
Pariah said quickly, "But not today."
Reluctantly, Zariel said, "True. Not today. Actually the reason we are here is to offer to accompany you to the hag cavern in the morning."
The captain looked over the three of them critically, not that she could really see anything under their thick furs. "You sure you're up to it after last night?"
"We are still fighting fit," Zariel assured her. "I fear what might happen if the bodies are left up there any longer, especially with harpies in the area. Besides, the White Lady thinks her spirit might rest if we find her remains and give them a proper burial."
Arlaggath gave a snort. "Rinaldo won't like that. All right, I'll arrange for the boats to be ready. We'll leave pretty early, right after breakfast."
"We'll be ready. Any success interrogating the prisoner?"
She growled. "Not so far. He's more of a problem than the other one. Nearly got away when he shrunk to the size of a cat. I didn't expect that. I knew they could grow but not shrink. And he's got some kind of weak mind control."
"Yes, our dwarven companion suggested blindfolding him to stop that."
"We did," the captain said sourly. "The soldier guarding him wasn't paying attention, and he managed to rub his blindfold against his shoulder and pull it off. But anyhow, back to your question, we only got a little information. Both the duergar were pretty stubborn about answering questions, but once we put them in a room together, they started arguing. I speak Dethek but I had trouble following the conversation, but something about failing their leader, each blaming the other, and so on. But not much more than you already told us: stronghold in the mountains, building a weapon, big plans to conquer us all, fear their leader's wrath, and so on. They used a phrase that translates to something like Sunblight, but I wasn't sure if that was the name of the weapon, the stronghold, their family, or something else."
Pariah looked towards the barracks door and asked, "Could we question him? Zariel, you could do that thing you did with Janus that forced him to tell the truth."
"Oh?" the captain said, her eyebrows raising in interest.
"I could try that," Zariel said.
Arlaggath studied her thoughtfully. "I'm an experienced interrogator and I'll get answers eventually, but I wouldn't mind having a magical advantage. Fine, you can come down and attend the interrogation."
"Great!" Pariah said. "Let's go."
"No," replied the captain quickly. "I mean you can attend," she nodded at Zariel. "I'm not going to have a troop of civilians down there. If nothing else, it's dangerous for everyone involved. One of you can accompany me, but that's all."
Pariah would rather have gone along, but wasn't about to get into an argument over it. "Should we wait for you?" she asked Zariel.
"No," the other woman said. "Go back to the inn. I'll let you know if I discover anything. And we can stay in touch through Lulu."
"All right," Pariah said reluctantly. She didn't like the idea of any of them being alone, but she also really wanted to go lie down for a while. "Good luck." She started to turn away and then said to Arlaggath, "Oh, the speaker said that big badger that dug the tunnel ran off into the wilderness."
"That's right."
"It might be headed back to their stronghold. Are you going to track it?"
Arlaggath grunted thoughtfully. "That's a good point." She looked up at the dark sky. "Wind is still quiet so the tracks should still be there. I'll send a squad out to follow it. Maybe we'll get lucky." As though the weather was listening, a sudden gust of freezing wind blew down the street. "Come on," Arlaggath said to Zariel impatiently, drawing her cloak more tightly around her. "Let's get inside. It's cold out here."
Pariah was napping when Zariel came back to their room at the inn. Bjarnson had given her an herbal remedy that he said would speed healing and she didn't know if she got sleepy from that, the big meal she ate at lunch, or the mead, but she had been dozing all afternoon. The last time she'd seen Lulu, the asteri was out in the main room making friends.
She woke when the door opened. "Hey," she said sleepily when she saw it was Zariel and Lulu. She sat up and stretched with a groan. "So did you find out anything new," she yawned.
"A few things, but nothing particularly useful," Zariel said.
There was something about her tone that grabbed Pariah's attention. She focused on the woman and could see she was upset. "What's wrong?"
Zariel was pacing about the small room restlessly. "The captain's interrogation methods seem...extreme."
"Oh," Pariah said knowingly. It was common to beat a confession out of a prisoner. When a beating wasn't enough, the methods could get more cruel. Torture wasn't a rare occurrence, and the kind of place that sacrificed its own citizens probably didn't shy away from pincers and hot pokers. She swung her legs off the bed and stretched again. "Your methods didn't work?"
Zariel stopped pacing. "Unfortunately they were both able to resist the compulsion to confess. And though I can tap into unnatural levels of persuasion, I fear that their treatment has made them unreceptive to friendly questioning." She sat on the bed and fiddled with her signet ring. "We did get a little information. The one from last night, his name is Durth. His brothers are Ulthoon and Nildar; the latter is the one we killed in the outpost. His father is the leader of this expedition from the Underdark, and his name is Xardorok. Sunblight is their family name. From what the captain told me, she's gotten a rough idea of where the stronghold is located, but that's still miles of mountains to search. No information on the weapon they are building or Xardorok's plan to conquer Icewind Dale. Lots of threats and posturing."
"Is Arlaggath going to look for the stronghold?"
Zariel's blonde hair swished as she shook her head. "It's deep in the mountains and she can't spare the sleds. On foot, it would be more than a day's travel just to get to the area."
Pariah chewed her lip as she thought about an idea. "We could tell Caer-Dineval. If Levistus really wants them gone, he might send some of the Black Sword to go look for them. It could give us a chance to free the prisoners."
Zariel looked skeptical. "Against a mortal opponent, I might agree, but I doubt Levistus would be fooled by such an obvious ruse."
"True," she sighed. "Still, the information would be a good bargaining chip for the prisoners."
"Agreed." Zariel looked thoughtful. "Is that where we want to go next?"
"I don't know. We talked about it over lunch, though of course we wanted to get your opinion too. Longer term, everyone has their ideas. Eberic wants to search for more duergar; he'd probably want to go check out that ridge. Dejen would like to either look for chwingas or follow up on that friend of Copper's who was researching a way to stop the Rime. Bjarnson doesn't have an opinion either way."
"And you?"
Pariah thought about it. "Well, although I'm skeptical that Copper's friend has a real answer to ending this winter, the Everlasting Rime seems like a bigger threat than the duergar so we should at least see what he's up to."
Zariel nodded. "My dreams have led me to believe that our path, or at least my path, lies through the House of the Morninglord, and the man who still lives there. That implies his friend, Macreadus, would be worth investigating.
Pariah leaned back against the wall, trying to keep from frowning at the vagueness of divine guidance. "Either way, that's not something we are going to do soon. We need to rest for a few days. I don't know if we want to do that here, Bryn Shander, or Caer-Dineval."
Zariel made a sour face. "I don't want to rest at Caer-Dineval."
"Well, yeah, but we should at least tell them about the duergar. If they send even a couple of their people out to look for the stronghold, and they find it, then maybe Arlaggath would be interested in leading an attack against the duergar. And the Black Sword's immunity to the temperature means they can travel faster than any of us could."
"That's true," Zariel admitted.
"And maybe even keep going towards Caer-Konig. Make sure Trovus got back safe. Plus we have free rooms there." She sighed tiredly. "We should check in at Bryn Shander. I'm worried that the Aurilites might make trouble after the death of their leader."
Zariel said, "I trust Sheriff Southwell to have that under control, but I agree I would be willing to lend my aid should he need it."
Pariah also knew that Dejen would want to check in with his Harper contact. She didn't want to say that out loud, even though Zariel and Lulu already knew about it. The best way to keep a secret was never to mention it. Regardless, the Aurilites were a good excuse for the group to go there.
Lulu piped up, "I want to go to Eberic's house. I want to meet his wife."
Pariah was surprised by the suggestion, but gave a delighted laugh. "That's true. I definitely want to meet the woman who married him. I think he said he lives in Termalaine. Now that we have sleds, any of the towns will be easy to reach." Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the map of Ten-Towns. "I think Targos is on the way. We could check in on Mishann's son. Wait, or maybe not. Eberic might be wanted there, if they figured out he was the one who freed his friend." She sobered slightly as she became aware of her aches again. "In the short term, we'll rest here tonight and help recover the bodies tomorrow. Which means a second night here as well, I imagine. We can decide then how we are feeling and where we want to go."
The whole group sat around a table in the dining room, eating a fairly bland rabbit stew. Bjarnson had added some salt and pepper to each of their bowls from his own stash, and that helped a lot, but it was still a fairly uninspired meal. Wind and hail hammered at the inn from the outside, so the warmth of the disappointing stew was comforting. Topped off with a few mugs of mead and the good company of the other customers, it made for a pleasant evening.
Rinaldo had called off the night's séance, saying that the lady didn't appear when the weather was so intense. Instead he was entertaining the room with bright melodies on his fiddle, occasionally passing among the tables for tips.
"It would be nice to get home again," Eberic grumbled over the music, in response to Pariah's suggestion of going to Termalaine. "And it's on the way to Copper's friend."
"Is it?" Pariah said. She hadn't paid much attention to the map they'd seen days ago, or the place where Copper had pointed. "Well, that's convenient." As she tried to remember the map, she said, "Bjarnson, isn't Lonelywood nearby? You could visit your family too."
He grunted. "My father and I aren't close, and it's out of our way." His tone made it clear it was not something he wanted to discuss. Pariah was curious, but saw no reason to press it.
She said, "If Copper's friend -- does anyone remember his name? It's awkward to keep calling him 'Copper's friend'."
Nobody did, so she continued, "If Copper's friend hasn't invented a solution, then I'm not sure what else we can do about the Everlasting Rime."
Zariel said, "Perhaps I will be sent guidance in my dreams."
Pariah couldn't help but grimace at that. Let the immortals handle their own problems. And if they knew the answer already, just tell them rather than sending them riddles.
She knew only part of her grumpiness was her usual "fucking immortals" attitude. Her pain was starting to grow again, and the mead she was drinking to control it was making her woozy. "I think I've had all I can take for one day, and we have a long day of corpse recovery tomorrow. I'm going to bed."
"I think I'll join you," said Bjarnson. Then, embarrassed, he added, "Well, not join you, but I'm going to go to my room as well."
The table shared a chuckle. Pariah drank the last of her mead and got to her feet, suppressing a groan. He stood as well, wincing. They said their goodnights to the others and both headed into the reception area and then down the hall on the other side towards their rooms.
Bjarnson suddenly grunted in pain, grabbed at his ribs, and lurched to the side. He fell into Pariah, but her slim frame wasn't built to support his bulk. She stumbled and would have fallen if she hadn't smashed painfully against the side of the corridor. Trapped between this large man and the wall, a surge of panic filled her as unpleasant memories surfaced. "Get off me!" she barked as adrenaline gave her enough strength to shove him away.
He stepped back with a confused expression. She felt her face growing hot as anger and fear swirled in her. Without a word she hurried down the hall to her room, groping for the key, grateful she hadn't left it with Zariel. She heard him say something, but her heart was thundering in her ears and she couldn't make out the words. With shaking hands she got the door open, rushed in, and slammed it behind her.
Notes:
This is where we start the intermission between the first two chapters of the module. Chapter 1 takes place in Ten-Towns. Chapter 2 sends them out into the wilderness. With my slower resting rules, they pretty much need a full week of downtime. It's a good opportunity to get some things done, and maybe to do some character development.
They got level 4, which is ASIs and feats. Mostly this is a "half-feats to round out odd stats" level.
Pariah Level 4 took +2 DEX = 16.
Zariel Level 4 took Slasher (+1 STR = 16) to give her some special abilities with her longsword. Her sword also upgraded to be equivalent to the Lightbringer mace from Lost Mine of Phandelver (+1 sword, does +1d6 damage vs. undead).
Dejen Level 4 took Observant (+1 WIS = 10) to help his terrible WIS saves. The higher passive Perception and Investigation fit his character. He also got another cantrip, Poison Spray, for people who get too close.
Bjarnson Level 4 took Chef (+1 CON = 16). He also gets better wild shape: CR 1/2 and swim speed, so knucklehead trout, seal, walrus. I'll also accept black bear as a small polar bear. Finally he picked up a new cantrip, a custom spell called Mold Snow. It's Mold Earth but rather than dirt and stone it's snow and ice.
Eberic Level 4 was supposed to take Observant to nudge up his WIS to 14, but I didn't want to take the same feat on two people. None of the other WIS half-feats fit him, so I went with Alert.
Chapter 58: Haunted by the Past
Summary:
As a new morning breaks in Easthaven, an expedition is launched to recover corpses from the hag's cave. Pariah is dealing with her emotions over the incident with Bjarnson from the night before.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 6, 1496 (5 days after the Full Moon)
"Are you sure you are all right?" Zariel asked, concern in her tone.
"I'm fine," Pariah waved her off as she continued to putter around the room, not really doing anything.
After Zariel and Lulu had come to the room last night, they both had noticed that she was upset. Pariah had made excuses about being tired, though she didn't think they had believed that's all it was. She had slept restlessly, plagued by dreams of a priest, a pact, and a murder.
Once more, she wished Rowan was around to talk to. She didn't feel comfortable talking to Zariel about the incident that had brought her original group together, the incident that had eventually led them to the Nine Hells. She had thought she had put all the trauma behind her, but apparently it had been hiding, waiting to jump out at her when she least expected.
This morning, she kept finding reasons not to head out to breakfast with the others. She was embarrassed by how she had reacted to Bjarnson and didn't want to face him. Of course he hadn't meant anything by it, she told herself. He stumbled. That was all. It was innocent. And yet, she still felt that surge of panic every time she remembered being trapped between him and the wall, with nowhere to escape.
She had even thought about begging off the trip back to the hag's cave, claiming she was in too much pain that morning, but she would have felt bad if something had happened to them and she hadn't been there.
"We should go," Zariel said with a hint of impatience.
She was right. Putting this off wasn't helping. As much as Pariah wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground, she was going to have to see him again. "Yeah, all right," she said without enthusiasm, straightening her sword belt again.
Zariel and Lulu led the way out of the room, and down the hall to the dining room. There, among about a dozen guests, the others in the group were waiting for them. A city guard was standing by their table. "There you are," Dejen called out cheerfully. "We were just talking about knocking on your door."
The soldier, a dusky-skinned human man with hazel eyes that continuously scanned the room as though looking for threats, said, "The captain sent me to fetch you. We are loading up and plan to leave soon."
"Sorry," Pariah said. "My fault. Moving slow this morning. Is there time to eat?"
He frowned. "Make it quick. I don't think the captain is going to wait long."
Pariah and Zariel hurried over to the communal cauldron. The rabbit stew from last night had been supplemented with potatoes and leeks. There was also a slab of walrus blubber on the table next to it. Pariah was still getting used to the idea of eating pure fat, but she knew that was an important part of the diet in this environment, so she carved off a slab to put in her bowl.
The others had already finished eating. Pariah wolfed down her food, which meant she didn't have to talk or even pay attention to the others at the table. She couldn't bring herself to look at Bjarnson, and that just made her more embarrassed. He seemed to be casting curious glances her way, but she focused on her food.
"Done," she said breathlessly after scraping the last bit from the bowl. "Let's go." She stood.
"I think Zariel's not done," Bjarnson said.
Pariah didn't look at him, but instead looked at Zariel who still had about half a bowl of stew in front of her. "It's fine," the other woman said as she pushed the bowl away. "Considering our task, I'm not sure a full stomach is the best choice." She stood and the others followed suit.
They followed the guard out the main entrance, drawing their cloaks tightly about them in the icy wind. He led them out to the docks, down the ladder, and then across the ice towards the island being used as an anchorage. A large fishing boat was waiting for them out on the lake. A rowboat and another soldier, a dwarven woman with a bulbous nose, were waiting on the shore. "It's about time," she said.
Pariah didn't bother apologizing again. The soldier who had escorted them out headed back to town, but the rest of them piled into the dinghy. The dwarven woman took the oars and rowed them out to the ship. As they climbed the rope, Pariah could hear orders to get underway from the deck.
The ship was a double-masted fishing boat about fifty feet long and a third as wide. The captain called out orders from his position at the wheel on a raised deck at the stern, and two sailors worked the lines while another cranked the wheel that raised the anchor. About ten soldiers were on deck, including Captain Arlaggath. Pariah was surprised she was commanding this expedition rather than delegating it to a subordinate. She had wondered if Scython would join them, but she didn't spot her fellow tiefling among the crew.
The wind was stronger than it had been when Scython took them out. Pariah thought that might mean faster travel, but the sails were moving a much bigger ship so they moved along the coast at about the same speed as before. There was nowhere comfortable to sit. The passengers sat on the deck or stood against the railings.
Bjarnson took up a position at the bow, leaning against the forward railing facing out towards the lake. As much as Pariah wanted to put the incident from the night before behind her, ignoring it wasn't likely to do that. Things would just remain awkward. Reluctantly, she walked up to the front of the ship and leaned against the railing next to him.
He looked down at her. "Morning," he said cautiously.
"Morning," she said back, looking out over the dark surface of the lake. Lanterns hung at the front of the ship, though their light didn't reach all that far. The moon was still up, though, so it wasn't pitch black, and there wasn't much to run into out on the water.
After a heavy silence, she said, "Sorry. About last night. Tired I guess."
He turned to look back over the lake. "It's all right. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No," she assured him. "Just startled me. I shouldn't have overreacted." After a moment she asked, "Are you all right? You seemed in pain when you stumbled."
"I'm fine," he said with a dismissive wave. "Just getting clumsy in my old age."
She grunted as she looked up at him. "You seem pretty young to me. How old are you?"
He was quiet, staring out into the darkness. Softly he said, "I'm not sure. I can't remember most of my childhood."
"Oh, that's right," she said, embarrassed she'd brought it up. "The bear kid. I know the feeling."
He turned to raise his eyebrows in a question.
"Not being a bear kid," she said with a light chuckle. "I mean not knowing how old you are." She pointed at herself. "Poor street kid. I remember my childhood, though I wish I didn't. I was abandoned and lost track of the years. How long has it been since you were found?"
"Eighteen years. And people figured I was about ten at the time."
"Nearly thirty? You're right, you are getting old," she teased.
He grinned. "How about you? What's your guess about your age?"
She shrugged. "Twenty, twenty-five. Somewhere in there." She watched a knucklehead leap out of the water in the distance. "I remember the riots in the Outer City when Bhaal tried some nonsense during the Sundering. That was our version of what the Ice Witch did here. I've looked that up and it was in 1482. I don't think I was as old as ten, so," she shrugged again, "that makes me somewhere in my early twenties. Still just a kid."
He grunted. "For a 'kid', you've definitely seem some shit."
Bleakly, she said, "I'd already seen some shit when I really was a kid. But, yeah, I've had my fair share and then some." She looked up at him, "But you were raised by a bear, so you've got a few stories of your own."
To her surprise, he looked sour. "I don't think I was actually raised by a bear. I think I was just found by one, and he took me to the nearest bunch of people."
Her brow furrowed slightly. Again she sensed something hidden in his message. Not an outright falsehood, but maybe a lie of omission. Of course, she was keeping plenty of her own secrets so she wasn't going to judge.
"Is that common behavior for the local bears? Bringing lost kids home?"
He smiled sadly. "Not as a rule, no. Lots of theories around Lonelywood at the time. Maybe Silvanus sent that bear to rescue me."
She couldn't help it. "Fucking immortals," she mumbled.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
Realizing her comment might be taken wrong, she said, "Not for rescuing you. But why be so mysterious about it? And what's with your memory loss? Did he do that too?"
He was taken aback by her vitriol. "We don't know he was behind my rescue."
Pariah took a breath. "Sorry, being cranky again. I just resent how the gods toy with us." She reflexively glanced over her shoulder to make sure Zariel wasn't nearby. The woman was amidships chatting with a couple of the soldiers.
Bjarnson followed her gaze. "How long have you and Zariel known each other?"
Pariah looked back forward. "That's complicated," she said.
"All right," he said in a carefully neutral tone.
She grumbled, "I don't mean to be so mysterious. There are just aspects of my past I don't like to talk about."
"It's fine," he assured her, and his tone sounded genuine. "Nobody has the right to another person's past, and I'm grateful for any part of it you are willing to share with me. I'm just making conversation to pass the time."
She suspected his interest wasn't quite that casual, but it was also a fair question especially considering the arguments the two women had had, throwing around words like "mortal". However, for many reasons it wasn't something she was willing to talk about. Instead she said, "Then how about I tell you what life was like growing up in Baldur's Gate."
Pariah spent the next hour regaling him with a somewhat sanitized version of her life in the Outer City. She glossed over the more traumatic parts of her past. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about them, but she knew most people just wanted a story not a detailed description of living with starvation and disease and crime. She focused mostly on her time with The Forgotten and some of the shenanigans she and Janshi had gotten up to.
He seemed to enjoy the tale and, by the time the ship arrived near the ice shelf outside the hag's cave, she felt more relaxed around him.
As the ship weighed anchor, Captain Arlaggath stood on a box and called together the soldiers and the adventurers.
"We'll approach in three squads," she said in a loud voice. She pointed towards the cliff face and the four visible cave entrances. "From left to right, the caves are one, two, three, four. Zariel will take her people into cave four." That was the frozen river entrance they had used on their previous visit. "I'll take my squad into cave three, and Sergeant Harlan will take his squad into cave two. We'll save cave one for whoever is freed up first. Harpies have been spotted in the area. Stay away from any open water inside the cave because there is also an elemental. Try to avoid combat, but if you end up in a fight then blow your horn. Questions?" There were none, so she said, "Then let's go. Zariel, your people are up first."
The ship had only one dinghy, so the groups would have to take turns. The adventurers climbed into it along with the same dwarven woman who had been on the oars before. They each also carried a stack of sheets to wrap the dead, and there were more aboard the ship.
Pariah hoped any harpies that were left had moved on. They weren't in any shape for a fight.
The soldier rowed them up to the edge of the ice sheet where the other three boats still lay empty. The group carefully climbed out onto the ice and then the woman wordlessly rowed back towards the ship. They took a moment to strap on the crampons that Bjarnson had bought for them. He and Eberic checked the others to be sure the straps were tight and the ends of the straps were tucked in.
"Walk flat-footed," Bjarnson said, demonstrating his gait. "Don't walk heel-to-toe. Bring your whole foot down so the spikes can dig into the ice."
They all tried it and, though it felt clumsy and looked silly, Pariah could feel that her footing was much more stable on the ice than it had been before. Captain Arlaggath's squad had arrived during the interim and were equipped and ready to go by the time Pariah and the others felt comfortable with the unfamiliar equipment.
As they approached the two cave entrances, Arlaggath said, "Good luck," and then led her team up the slope to the cave opening about twenty feet up. Zariel and Pariah led the way into the river cave.
They found the first body not too far inside the first tunnel, the half-eaten corpse they had seen on their first trip. The body was frozen solid and in an awkward pose, making it difficult to wrap up, but they managed. They left it there. The plan was, after the squads swept the caves to be sure they were safe, that the adventurers would lower the bodies to the base of the frozen waterfall and the soldiers would transport them to the boats.
The pitons and rope from their first trip were undisturbed. They had decided at the time to leave them behind, though that had been due to fatigue rather than a plan for a future visit. The equipment made it easy for them to climb the uneven ice of the waterfall to the upper level of the river.
Nothing stirred. They peered into the shadows and listened to the silence, but the tunnels seemed empty. Pariah hated these kinds of moments, where your body is on high alert anticipating an attack but you don't know if one is coming. Nobody was talking as they continued down the river to the small side tunnel. Lulu stayed with the group rather than flying ahead.
"Should we explore the rest of the river?" Pariah asked, her voice loud in the silence.
"I think not," Zariel said. "Let the town guard handle the exploration while we shoulder the grim responsibility of recovering the bodies of their friends and families."
They made their way through the narrow corridor to the ossuary. The bones of the frost giant lay against one wall, still partially encased in ice. The rest of the room was covered in piles of bones, both animal and humanoid. "It will take hours to sort through these," Pariah said. "We should probably start in the hag's lair, and then come back and...I don't know, I guess we'll just have to bag them all and let them sort it out back in town."
Bjarnson squatted down to examine the nearest pile. "It's hard to tell how old these are, and it's going to be impossible to identify them. The captain might just want to leave them here, let nature reclaim them."
Zariel said, "We will ask her." She set her jaw and looked towards the far stairs leading up. "I agree we should start in the lair of the evil creature, but we should be on our guard. Even dead, she may have traps like the undead hands."
Pariah shivered as she remembered the children's hands grabbing and clawing at her. However, waiting wasn't going to help, so she started towards the steps.
She braced herself as she climbed the stairs next to Zariel. She hesitated when she realized she could see a flickering light at the top of the crude steps. She and Zariel drew their swords and proceeded carefully upwards. As they reached the top, they could see into the cavern. Pariah saw the source of the light, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, right," she said. "Magic fire."
A bonfire burned on the bare rock of the cave floor. For all she knew, the fire would still be burning a hundred years from now. It certainly hadn't died with the hag.
Zariel was still alert. In a low voice, she said, "That doesn't mean something hasn't moved into this place. Be on your guard."
They cautiously moved into the cave. Everything appeared the same as when they had left it. Nothing moved and there was no sound other than the burning flame. There was little furniture in the room, nowhere for anything to hide. Well, except for the construct and the bugs that had attacked them last time, but she hoped that the witch hadn't left anything else behind.
The others followed them into the room. Zariel said, "Let's make sure this area is safe first. And even if we find no threats, someone should stand sentry while the others gather the deceased."
They spread out and moved carefully through the cave, poking into bone piles and looking under furniture, but still nothing stirred other than a few cave crickets that didn't seem inclined to attack them. Pariah glanced down the far tunnel but didn't see any reason to approach the elemental she knew was down there.
The group gathered around the hag's butcher block and dismembered bodies that lay around it. Unlike the first body, these were not frozen. The warmth of the bonfire had kept the bodies thawed, and they were rotten and stinking.
"Not undead I assume?" Pariah said.
"Not undead," Zariel confirmed.
"I'll stand watch while you work," Dejen said quickly, almost desperately.
Pariah didn't blame him for his enthusiasm for sentry duty. She wasn't looking forward to what needed to be done. She set her jaw and said, "Well, let's get this over with."
Notes:
Not much to say here. This is a filler chapter while I tie up some loose ends and figure out what their next step is.
Chapter 59: Dirty Laundry
Summary:
The group returns to Easthaven after their grim body recovery mission.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 6, 1496 (5 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah watched the last sled pull away from the docks. It was one of the big vehicles used by loggers, pulled by people because dogs wouldn't have been able to manage the weight. This one was loaded with bodies rather than wood. It was headed for a couple of abandoned houses near the cemetery that had been commandeered by the militia. The bodies would be stored there until they could be identified and interred.
It was late now, nearly supper time, though Pariah was torn on whether she wanted to eat or not. They hadn't had anything since breakfast, and she knew it was important to keep her strength up, but her stomach was unsettled by the tasks of the day. She had done her best not to think about what they were doing, trying to see the wrapped bundles as nothing but packages, but the walls in her mind were coming down and her skin was crawling.
Bjarnson said, "We should probably stop by Skin and Bones to buy new furs. The corpse smell isn't going to go away anytime soon."
Pariah hadn't even noticed the odor until he mentioned it, but now she realized the smell of rot was lingering. She looked down and, though she couldn't see any obvious stains on her cloak or mittens, the smell was there. "Good idea," she said, also thinking that she wanted to wash until she'd scrubbed her skin off. Washing was going to be difficult. She had asked one of the soldiers, who had confirmed there was no bathhouse in town. The inn had a common washing area with soap and a basin of water, but that wasn't the same as a real bath. However, unless she planned to take a dip in the lake, it would have to suffice.
"We should probably do that now," Zariel suggested, "rather than taking this odor back our rooms."
Bjarnson led the way along the lakeside road. They passed the town's market square, which was located convenient to the docks. A couple of merchants were there now, huddled in their furs while surrounded by their wares. Pariah hadn't had time to check the place out yet, and at the moment she saw no reason to stop. They'd had good luck with Skin and Bones so it made sense to go back there.
"Hey, tiefling!" a woman shouted from the marketplace. "Tiefling, come here!"
Pariah stopped, her hand dropping to her sword hilt. "Hey, tiefling" wasn't usually a friendly invitation. She looked towards the market to see a short, fur-clad figure waving to her. She was surrounded by the usual miscellaneous assortment of products you'd expect from a caravan. Three sleds were parked nearby, and one had a flag that stirred slightly in the light wind blowing off the lake. She couldn't see the design, but its black-and-gold coloring seemed familiar.
"Talona's tits," she mumbled to herself as she remembered where she'd seen it.
"Come here!" Torrga called out again. "I want to talk to you."
Pariah had already stopped and pointedly looked over, so she couldn't move on as though she hadn't heard anything. She replied, "Sorry, in a hurry. I'll come back later." To the others, she hissed, "Let's go!"
"Wait," Torrga said as she hustled across the small market square. Two of her guards came with her, and the other two stood up alertly. If Pariah had been alone, she probably would have just taken off to lose them among the nearby buildings, but she suspected her companions would just stand there in confusion if she ran. They didn't have her street instincts.
The dwarven woman stomped up and glared up at her. "What did you do with him?" she demanded.
"Who?" Pariah asked in a voice she hoped was nonchalant.
"You know who! Kaltro. If you seduced him, fine. If you rolled him for his coin, fine; it's his own fault. If he'd passed out drunk and missed our departure, he'd have caught up to us by now. But he's disappeared and you were the last one asking about him, so what did you do with him?"
Pariah struggled to remember what lie she'd used when she'd last talked to this woman. "I told you. I never found him that night. Maybe he wandered off into the wilderness to be Auril's boy toy."
Torrga opened her mouth to retort, and then grunted. "That's probably something he'd do. But he'd have told me he was leaving! I know you had something to do with it, and when I find out-"
"By the Twin Axes," Eberic interrupted, "there's no reason to lie about it." He stepped forward to stand nose to nose with Torrga. "We killed him. He was a murderer, and we killed him." He drew his ice dagger and showed it to her. "Recognize this? I took it off his corpse. Problem?"
"You ambushed him like cowards!" she accused.
Zariel stepped forward. "We did no such thing. We assisted local law enforcement in his arrest. He resisted and we defended ourselves. You are welcome to consult Speaker Trovus in Caer-Konig if you don't believe us."
Torrga sneered. "That old sot? I assume he tripped over his own feet and passed out during the fight."
"Speaker Trovus was instrumental in our attempt to subdue your criminal friend," Zariel said coldly. "I think we are done here."
The dwarven woman eyed them all. "You're all banned from Torg's," she said before storming back to her stand.
Pariah couldn't stop herself from calling after her, "Oh no! We won't be able to buy overpriced stolen goods anymore. Whatever will we do?" If you're going to burn a bridge, you might as well burn it to ash.
They resumed their journey to Skin and Bones. After about a block, Bjarnson said, "Was it really the best strategy to irritate someone with obvious criminal connections across Ten-Towns?"
Pariah snorted. "We're pissing off a god and her cult, an archdevil and his cult, and an army of duergar building a mysterious superweapon. Being harassed by a few thugs doesn't bother me."
It wasn't long before they ended up at the white-shingled, brown stucco building that housed Skin and Bones. The curtains were drawn but they could see light behind them. It was early enough that the shop was probably still open. Sure enough, the door was unlocked and Bjarnson led them inside.
"Bjarnson!" a man's voice called out cheerfully. "Good to see you again."
The others piled into the warmth of the shop, quickly closing the door behind them.
The dwarven leatherworker, Thunum, was leaning over the large table that dominated the room, sewing two leather pieces together. He grabbed his cane and hobbled across the straw-covered stone floor to greet the group. "Is that cloak serving you well so far?"
"Warm and comfortable," Bjarnson assured him, opening the white cape of crag cat fur . "But we are all going to need new cold weather clothing, and I was hoping you might be able to get the smell out of this cloak."
Thunum wrinkled his nose as he got close. "Oh, my. Have you been rolling in garbage?"
Bjarnson gave him a grim smile. "We were part of the expedition to recover the bodies from the cave nearby. I hadn't consider this unfortunate side effect or I would have left the cloak behind."
Thunum's cheerful smile faded. "Oh, so they are back? Have they been able to identify anyone yet."
"The captain is going to take care of that over the next few days." He hesitated. "Did you lose someone?"
"We all have," the dwarf sighed. "Every one of us knows someone who's disappeared. It happens; fishing and hunting are dangerous professions. Having a body to bury can help close that wound."
Pariah wondered if that was true in this case, considering what had happened to them. The captain was sticking to the story that the bodies were savaged by animals, but they had heard people in the White Lady Inn mumbling about the dining habits of hags.
A man stepped into the doorway leading into another room of the shop. He was a tall, slender human with auburn hair that reached past his shoulders. "Evening," he said with a half smile of greeting.
"This is my husband, Dashad," Thunum said. "He's the butcher. I handle the skin and he handles the bones. Well, the meat really, but 'Skin and Meat' didn't seem like a good shop name."
The group shared a polite chuckle. Bjarnson said, "I don't think we need anything now, but we might stop by for some dried meat before heading out." He sighed wistfully, "Then again, I might stop by for something fresher than the meat in the stew at the White Lady."
Dashad grunted. "Bartaban's struggling like all of us. He definitely prefers the older, cheaper meat."
Thunum had come up to Bjarnson to examine his white cloak. He raised the fur to his nose and sniffed. He grabbed Bjarnson's hand to smell his mittens, and made a disgusted face. He started going from person to person, examining their furs.
Pariah asked Dashad, "Do you do your own hunting?"
"No, I buy from hunters and trappers. I have a deal with the town as well. The militia goes on hunting runs and they pay us to process the carcasses. We can buy any excess and resell it."
Thunum sat against the edge of the table. "I can outfit you all with new cold weather clothing, ten dragons each. Or I can clean what you have for three dragons each. That will take a couple of days and, of course, I'll have to keep the furs."
"How do you do that?" Dejen asked keenly.
"I mend any tears and comb the fur. Then I clean the stains with a solution I've come up with myself. I put it in a sawdust bath to absorb existing oils, brush it clean, and then rub it down to reintroduce the proper oils. If the smell persists, I'll put it in a barrel of fresh spruce boughs and aromatic herbs."
Mesmerized, Dejen asked, "Can I watch?"
Thunum was confused by the question. "What?" he asked.
Pariah explained, "He likes to learn new things."
"Oh," he said, still confused. "I mean, I guess so. If you like."
"Wonderful!" Dejen gushed.
Bjarnson said to the group, "We're flush with coin right now so I suggest we do both: buy new furs and let him clean these. It never hurts to have backup clothing in case one of us falls in the lake or something."
Nobody objected, so they spent the next hour or so going through Thunum's collection of winter clothing for new hats, gloves, boots and cloaks. Pariah hadn't realized how poor the quality of her old cold weather gear was until she saw these. The fur was thicker and warmer, and even she could see the stitching was stronger and more even. Then again, she realized she shouldn't have been surprised that Torrga's wares were inferior to those of a real craftsman.
They headed back out into the night; Dejen would return in the morning to watch the cleaning process. The wind had picked up, but she felt cozy and warm inside her new furs. The smell of death still lingered a bit on her skin, but as the crisp air blew away the odor, she felt her appetite returning. The group wrapped themselves up against the chill breeze and headed back to the inn for dinner.
Flamerule 7, 1496 (6 days after the Full Moon)
Zariel shifted uncomfortably in the coat of mail. The hauberk was heavier than her old one, made of small overlapping plates rather than chainmail. "It's a bit restrictive," she said irritably. "And the weight isn't distributed right."
"Nonsense," Rurden, the dwarven armorer, said as he slapped her on the shoulder. "You’re a strong girl. You'll be right as rain."
"I know armor," she said firmly. "This is going to chafe over time. Let me try the other one."
"Bah," said the dwarf. "Frail little humans can't stand a little weight on their bodies. Well, I don't make silk dresses here. I make tools of war, and you'll be glad when that dwarven workmanship stops an enemy's blade." However he helped her get the hauberk over her head and then carried it over to the bench where another was laid out.
Rurden had the rolling muscles and reddened, soot-blackened skin common to those who worked at forges. He was bald and his brown beard was trimmed short. His bare arms were spotted with small burn scars, a hazard in his line of work, and he had a dagger tattoo on the back of his left hand.
The shop looked ready for war. Racks of swords and axes stood on one wall, while another was stacked with crates of chainmail and plate armor. Helms, polearms and shields occupied every other flat surface or were stacked in the corners. Pariah might have thought this was the militia armory rather than a private business, except for the metal sign over the door identifying it as Rurden's Armory, with a line below declaring, "Once you go dwarven, you never go back."
Pariah watched this exchange while Ala, acolyte of Gond and the shop's other occupant examined the hilt of her sword. The elven woman had a mop of red hair that looked like it hadn't ever encountered soap. Her skin was pale, almost silvery and she had an unexpectedly strong jawline. She wore clothing of green flannel and wool. A pendant shaped like a four-spoked gear hung around her neck. Her silver-flecked, green eyes were currently distorted by the thick lenses she was wearing to examine the hilt of Pariah's sword.
"No, I'm afraid I can't do it," she said in a deep voice that didn't fit her slim frame. "The crystal is too wide. It might work with a two-handed weapon, but not a thin-bladed sword." She raised the goggles to her forehead to look at Pariah. "And you need this to be a combat weapon? Not a display piece?"
"Yes," Pariah confirmed.
Ala looked down at the sword and the chardalyn gem lying next to it. "No, that won't work," she mumbled to herself.
"Well, it was just a wild thought," Pariah said as she reached for her saber. She wasn't surprised. The gem was flat and nearly as wide as her palm, not exactly the same shape as a hilt.
Ala reached out to touch her wrist and stop her. "Does it need to be embedded in the hilt?"
"I need to be able to touch it when I’m fighting." Then, thinking it might be important, added, "To cast magic through."
The woman reached down to pick up the gem and weigh it in her hand. She turned it back and forth in the light. "Not too heavy. Wouldn't affect the balance too much. But how to attach it? Wire under the leather? No, too weak. Drill into it? Might crack."
Pariah quickly realized the acolyte wasn't speaking to her so she waited patiently as the woman talked her way through the problem.
Ala picked up the sword and held it out to her. "Hold this. Like you were fighting."
Pariah took the weapon and adopted a combat stance. The elven woman looked at her grip, took the blade gingerly between thumb and finger and moved it about, studying Pariah's sword hand and mumbling to herself. She was particularly focused on Pariah's wrist position. She spoke in Chondathan, Espruar and at least one other language Pariah couldn't place. She often used verbal shorthand, making her words impossible to follow. The tiefling continued to wait.
Ala pointed to the pommel, the knob at the end of the hilt. "What if I put it here? Parallel with the guard. It shouldn't get in your way."
It wasn't hard for Pariah to touch the pommel with an extended pinky. "I'm not sure. I might need more direct contact. Hmm, let me try something. Hold out the gem."
She sheathed her sword as Ala extended her palm, the chardalyn sitting in the middle. Pariah gripped an invisible hilt over the gem and extended a pinky to touch it. She tried to channel power through it, not enough to trigger a spell but just enough to get a feel for the energy flow. A layer of frost formed over the gem. "That seems to work," she said cautiously as she felt the magic move through the chardalyn.
The acolyte nodded thoughtfully. "Three days. Twenty five dragons."
"Oh," Pariah said, the disappointment heavy in her tone. "Uh, we had hoped to leave tomorrow. Any chance you can do it that quickly? I'd pay extra, of course."
Ala frowned at the hilt for a moment, and then said, "Tomorrow by midday. Fifty dragons. Half now, half on delivery."
Sleds meant travel between towns took only hours rather than days, so leaving at midday seemed fine. "Deal," she said.
As Ala took her saber and her chardalyn crystal, Pariah realized that meant she had only a dagger to defend herself until then. Still, that seemed safe enough, and she wasn't likely to be alone if they were ambushed in that time.
As Pariah counted out her payment, she watched Zariel moved in the second hauberk. "That's a much better fit," she was saying. "And it's not as restrictive. Yes, I think this, the rerebraces and the greaves." The latter two sets of pieces were more heavily armored, made of strips of metal riveted to chainmail and leather backing. They didn't cover the joints, so they could be more rigid than other pieces.
Eberic had been with them earlier to get some light chain armor. He'd been satisfied with the first fit so was currently outside warming himself by the forge; the armory had the strange feature of being warmer on the outside than the inside. Pariah had worn similar armor before, but she was happy with her leathers with a few metal rivets at key areas. Less weight meant more movement, and she preferred to stay mobile.
As Zariel counted out her own payment, Pariah said to Ala, "Oh, by the way, has there been any trouble at the temple?" She knew that the acolyte shared space at the Temple of Tempus.
"No," the woman said in a confused tone. "Should there be?"
"Have you heard what happened in Bryn Shander?"
Ala shook her head.
"Aurilites attacked the two temples and killed the priests," Pariah explained. "We're concerned that they might do the same in other towns."
"Oh, I think we'll be fine," she said dismissively. "The Aurilites haven't been that active in Easthaven, and the temple is a fortress."
While that was literally true, that didn't mean they were safe. "Well, let the priest know. And be careful when you're on the streets," Pariah cautioned her.
"I will," Ala said, turning to her work.
Notes:
First, the bad(-ish) news: I'm going to start posting every other week. Things have been busy in my life and it's finally whittled away a lot of the writing lead time I like to have. I'm still writing several chapters ahead, but I want to wait for things to settle do so I can build up more of a lead before I go back to weekly posting.
Torg's being in town was a fun coincidence. They have a route around Ten-Towns and Dwarven Valley that ties to the lunar cycle. I was looking at my game calendar and realized they travel from Bryn Shander to Easthaven 5 days after the full moon or after the new moon, so they would have arrived just in time.
The line about burning bridges was inspired by the Terry Pratchett line, "When you break rules, break 'em good and hard."
I now know far more about cleaning furs than I'll ever need to, but I got a couple of sentences for my story out of it so that's good.
Pariah attaching her focus to her sword hilt is Ruby of the War Mage.
Chapter 60: An Unsafe Haven
Summary:
Having rested for a couple of days, the party prepares to depart Easthaven and go north to Caer-Dineval.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 8, 1496 (7 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah took a few practice swings with her saber. The balance was a little off, but she didn't use a sword with enough precision for it to make much of a difference. The movement to touch the gem with a finger felt unnatural, but it worked and she could channel her magic. She hoped it would get easier and more instinctive with practice.
She turned the sword point down to hold the hilt up in front of her eye. The old pommel was gone and replaced with the clear chardalyn gem she had provided, a piece of flat crystal a bit smaller than Pariah's palm. Ala had drilled a hole through it, one edge to the other, and attached it to the end of the hilt with a screw. Pariah jiggled the gem but it didn't budge.
"You don't think this will crack?" she asked.
"No," Ala assured her. "Chardalyn is strong as steel. The blade will crack before the chardalyn does."
Pariah studied the rawhide that covered the metal hilt under a wrapping of wire. "This is new leather," she observed.
"I had to strip off the old grip to saw off the pommel and mount the new one."
"It's not horsehide." The leather was white and covered in round, closely set, scales. "Reptile skin?"
"Sharkskin," Ala replied.
"Really?" Pariah said in surprise. "You have sharks up here? I'd think it would be too cold."
Ala nodded. "Icewind sharks live in the Sea of Moving Ice."
Pariah made an impressed noise. "Well, I love it. You do great work." She sheathed the sword and reached for her pouch to count out the balance of her payment. She nodded towards the sound of the hammer on metal outside the back door, where the forge was. "Tell Rurden that Zariel likes her new armor. She spent the morning training and is very happy with how it moves, especially since it's not custom."
"I'll tell him, though he won't care," Ala said. Then, seeing Pariah's expression, she gave a little laugh and said, "I just mean that he assumes everyone loves his stuff. If you don't love it, then he'll tell you to give it a little more time. He's genuinely convinced he's never had an unhappy customer." She shrugged. "And he's mostly right." She glanced towards the door and said, "And tell your friend that he tore apart that hauberk she criticized last night and put it back together. He'd never admit it's because of what she said, though."
Pariah grinned. "Glad to hear he takes criticism, even if he won't admit it. Well, I'm off. Going to try to get to Caer-Dineval before dark."
"Safe travel," Ala said as Pariah headed out the door.
The wind was calm and the sky clear, making the air crisp rather than punishing. She looked to the east, towards the half moon that had risen just above the Reghed Glacier. It would be up until almost midnight, giving a little light even after the sun set, assuming the weather held. However they should be at Caer-Dineval within an hour, so before sunset.
The others were waiting, sleds loaded, dogs ready to run. She got on the sled behind Bjarnson and said, "All right, let's go!"
The armory was on the southwest edge of Easthaven so they didn't bother getting back on the main road. Bjarnson led the way across the snow around the edge of town, Eberic's sled close behind, until they reached the Eastway, and then he let the dogs sprint full out. The sled flew across the packed snow of the road, faster than they had ever gone.
Pariah was exhilarated. She glanced behind to see the other sled was keeping up, though they had dropped back to avoid the flying snow coming from the lead sled's runners. She leaned forward and asked, "How long can they keep up this speed?"
"Two, three hours. We could go to Bryn Shander and back and they'd still have a lot of energy. We'll slow down a bit once we turn off the Eastway, but this," he waved ahead of them, "is pretty much perfect dog sledding conditions."
They turned towards Caer-Dineval at the crossroads. The road here was buried under feet of snow marked only by the tripods of logs that had been placed to guide travelers, and there hadn't been as much traffic to pack the snow, so they had to slow down. Despite that, it was less than an hour until they saw the lights of the castle over the horizon. Their first trip here on foot had taken all day.
The light was starting to fade as they arrived. The town was as silent and empty as it had been on their first trip. As they drove along the road that curved around the harbor, Pariah realized she could see no businesses other than the Uphill Climb tavern. The town must survive solely on fishing and trapping, with the only trade coming from Torg's as they made their circuit around Ten-Towns.
They came around the curve where the road that led to Caer-Konig branched off. Here they could see the Uphill Climb and, beyond it, the caer. In an open area next to the tavern were three sleds. Their dogs had been unharnessed and were milling around the area. There were no people, but the sleds bore familiar-black and-gold flags: Torg's.
"Talona's tits," Pariah mumbled to herself. Of course they would be here. This was their next stop after Easthaven.
Bjarnson brought the sled to a stop. "Do we want to stop here or go on to the castle? I don't really want to stay in the castle but I'm not sure we'll be welcome here."
They hadn't talked about their plans beyond going to Caer-Dineval. They wanted to tell the Black Sword about the duergar in Easthaven, and wanted to check on the prisoners, but they hadn't gone into specifics.
Eberic pulled his sled alongside theirs and brought his team to a halt. The dogs from Torg's had alerted to the newcomers but were just watching rather than coming over.
Pariah said to him, "Bjarnson was just asking where we want to stay for tonight. This place," she waved towards the tavern, "didn't want to rent us rooms, though I'm pretty sure that was because they think I'm one of them," she waved towards the caer. "I agree with Bjarnson that I don't really want to stay in the castle, so maybe we could stake out an abandoned house."
Eberic glowered at the other sleds. "Them being here complicates things."
"I agree," Pariah nodded. "I'm afraid they are going to retaliate, if not against us than against our sleds or our dogs."
Dejen said, "Well, that could be a reason to take shelter in the castle. They may not be friends, but they aren't enemies."
She hated to admit it, but that made sense. "At the least," she said reluctantly, "we should board the dogs there. They'll be protected. We can decide where we are going to sleep later."
Nobody seemed happy about that, but nobody objected either. The road was wide enough that they rode side by side as they approached the gate to the caer. As they pulled up, Bjarnson called out, "Hello in the castle!"
After a moment, a human man came out of the tower to the right. He had a patchy red beard and wispy red hair that didn't completely cover his scalp. Pariah had seen him among the castle guard but didn’t know his name. He started to say, "The castle is not-" He broke off when he saw Pariah, who had made a point of removing her hood. "Hello, sister!" he called out jovially. "One moment."
He hurried back into the tower and, shortly thereafter, the gates started to open to the clank of gears and the groan of wood. They guided the sleds into the courtyard. The castle dogs were there and several of them came up to investigate the newcomers, dog and humanoid alike.
The red-headed guard came jogging out of the door at the base of the tower. "I'll let Master Kadroth know you are here," he called to them as he headed towards the main keep.
Alassar came out of the kennel. "Hello, missus," he said to Pariah with a smile. "Hello, everyone."
"Hi, Alassar," Pariah grinned back. "We have a lot more dogs than before. Can you handle them all?"
"I'm sure I can, missus," he said. "Did you bring food for them or should I fetch some from the keep?"
Bjarnson hefted a leather sack. "We brought our own," he said. "Mostly knucklehead, some reindeer and miscellaneous other meat. When do you usually feed them?"
The boy eyed the fading light on the east horizon. "Couple hours from now."
"I'll take this inside then. I don't know how long we are going to stay, but if we are around at feeding time, I'll bring it out."
Pariah waved towards the rest of their gear on the sleds. "I guess we'll leave this until we figure out where we are staying tonight."
Bjarnson handed her the sack, and she grunted a bit as she took it. It was heavier than she had expected. He said, "Do me a favor and take that to the kitchen while I help unharness the dogs and get them settled."
Pariah debated about staying out to help with the dogs as well -- it's certainly what she'd prefer to do -- but she knew she was the face of the group in the eyes of the Black Sword, so it would be better for her to go inside.
Other than Bjarnson, the others went through the main doors and into the great hall. It was empty, the tables cleaned up from lunch and not yet set for dinner. The chandelier cast dim light across the great space and there was more light in the kitchen. The door to Kadroth's receiving room was open and she could see the guard talking to Thoob, who looked out the door to give them a greasy smile.
Pariah ignored him and headed towards the kitchen. The air was warm here, and thick with the smells of a wood fire, something savory bubbling on the stove, and animal droppings. She was disappointed to discover Mere wasn't present. Karou was tossing some kind of greenery into a bin in the goat cage. It looked like beet tops or something like that. The goats were chewing contentedly; neither looked up at her, though he did. "Hi, Karou," she said. He grunted in return. She held out the bag. "This is for our dogs."
He nodded towards a counter and went back to feeding the goats. Pariah put the bag on the counter, thought about making a smartass remark to the cook, but instead left silently.
Zariel was saying to Dejen and Eberic, "Why don't you two head upstairs to check on the castle staff. I want to know if they are being mistreated. Come down and let us know their status. Lulu, please go with them."
As the three of them headed up the stone steps at the back of the hall, Thoob came out to say, "The master will see you now."
Pariah took a breath before following Zariel into the receiving room. She knew that talking to Kadroth was talking to Levistus. That was probably true with any of them, but she suspected Kadroth, Avarice and the late soothsayer received special attention from him. She let the breath out and headed into the room.
Thoob was waiting, standing near the mahogany table, his shoulders slouched forward. He waved them towards two of the comfortable chairs with an empty smile and smoothed his thin mustache with one knuckle. "One moment, please," he said before disappearing through the door to Kadroth's office.
She and Zariel sat in silence in the icy cold room. Pariah eyed the empty fireplace and empty drink cabinet forlornly. The cold wasn't too bad for her, but after several minutes had gone by, Zariel drew her cloak around her more tightly.
"He could at least light a fire for guests," Zariel said, her breath fogging in the cold.
Pariah made a dismissive sound. "He's doing it on purpose. Just like he's keeping us waiting right now. He's trying to put us off balance, act like he's in charge. He's probably listening, hoping we'll say something he can use against us."
She thought she heard an annoyed grunt come from behind the office door, though that might have been wishful thinking. Regardless, she couldn't help but grin at the idea.
And, though it might have been coincidence, it was only a short time before the door opened and Kadroth the tiefling came into the den, looking down his blue-skinned nose at his guests as Thoob closed the door behind them. "Welcome back, my friends," he said in a voice that was anything but friendly. "I hope you bring good news about your service to our master."
Pariah grimaced, trying not to let his obvious goading get to her. It was Zariel who spoke up, "We stopped a duergar plot in Easthaven, killing several and capturing their leader. He was brother to the leader of the group near Dwarven Valley, and their father, Xardorok Sunblight, rules the duergar who have come to the surface here. There is a third brother, though we do not know where he might be. Perhaps he led the group you captured."
"Perhaps," Kadroth said, though Pariah didn't get the impression he believed that. He said, "Any more information on their goals? Or their location?"
Zariel shook her head. "The same as before: building a weapon. They were trying to steal a cache of chardalyn for that purpose. As for their location, we have a slightly better idea." She frowned. "I left our map with our sleds. Would you have one here?"
Kadroth sneered at her just slightly before saying, "Thoob, fetch the map from my office."
"Yes, my lord," Thoob said before scurrying through the door into the other room.
Zariel continued, "It seems to be deep in the Spine of the World, a few miles east of the road that leads through the pass, though we haven't been able to locate it more precisely than that. They had a burrowing animal with them that dug a tunnel into the storage area. The animal fled and the militia followed its tracks, but they lost the trail after two or three miles."
Thoob returned with a rolled up parchment about as long as his arm. He spread it out on the mahogany table between the two seats and everyone leaned forward to look at it. This was a nicer quality map than the one they had gotten from Candlekeep. The membrane was thicker and smoother than typical parchment. The lines were carefully drawn and all of the writing was in a precise hand. It seemed more recent than theirs: years old instead of decades old.
Zariel tapped a ridge near a river east of Ten Trail, the main road in or out of Icewind Dale. "We think their fortress is located somewhere in this area. That narrows it from a hundred miles of mountain to ten miles of mountain, which would still require weeks of searching. If it's underground or concealed, then it would be impossible to find without stumbling across it. I know that Easthaven has no plans to search for it. We will give this information to the speaker of Bryn Shander when we return there, but I doubt she has the soldiers to spare either."
Kadroth leaned back in his seat, his hands folded over his plump belly, to peer at his guests. "It sounds like that would be the next place for your party to investigate."
Zariel searched for words, but Pariah wasn't going to be so diplomatic. "Not likely," she said. "Weeks in the wilderness doesn't appeal to me, and we have other priorities right now. Besides, you have a wizard. Doesn't she have some oogity-boogity find-the-nearest-duergar spell?"
He made a distasteful expression, which then faded into a thoughtful one. "She might have resources," he mumbled. "It would be easier to find such a place from the air."
"Well, yeah," Pariah said. "If she can fly, that would help." Then again, she didn't really see Avarice flying through a blizzard looking for a duergar settlement. Even flying, it would probably still take days to search that area.
Not wanting to lose the momentum, she continued, "So now that we've brought you more information and stopped a second duergar plot, it's time to talk about reward." She took a breath and said firmly, "It's time for you to release the prisoners."
Kadroth raised his eyebrows at her unexpected demand, and then he laughed coldly. "Don't be absurd. We must continue to shield our operations here until we can gather more worshipers, and releasing the speaker would jeopardize that."
"Maybe, but he couldn't tell them anything," she said. "I assume he'd be under the same spell as we are, unable to say that a scumbag devil and his asshole cultists have taken over the castle and murdered several of its occupants."
"Pariah," Zariel chastised softly. "Let's try to be more diplomatic."
Pariah looked at her in surprise. That sounded nothing like the Zariel she had come to know, though it was a reassuring sign of change. Then again, she could see that, despite her words, the other woman was struggling to hold her temper.
Zariel forced a smile and said, "I think Pariah's suggestion is a fair one. Your forces will still be in possession of the castle. You would not have to spend your resources or soldiers caring for prisoners. And it would encourage our continued cooperation, which is something that benefits both parties."
"Out of the question," Kadroth said with a dismissive wave. "In addition to keeping our secret, our guests provide the important service of ensuring nobody does anything...rash." He looked pointedly at Pariah as he said that.
There was no point in talking to this puffed up figurehead. She leaned forward and stared into his eyes. "Levistus," she said. "This is how it works. We do something for you, and you do something for us. We've weakened the duergar that you are so concerned about, and that lets you do whatever evil bullshit you are up to. I don't like working with you, but you know we have been of help. Screw us over, and we will be the opposite of help."
Kadroth's smug expression was quickly replaced by one of panic. "No, my lord," he said in a shaking voice. "Of course, my lord. I will be happy to pass your message on. It will not be necessary to resort to drastic measures like before."
He took a moment to compose himself and then turned to the group, having regained a hint of his superior attitude. He opened his mouth but, before he could speak, a horn sounded from outside. Thoob and Kadroth both looked towards the door to the great hall, their mouths open in astonishment.
"What is that?" Zariel asked suspiciously.
Kadroth's mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, and then he leapt to his feet and proclaimed, "We are under attack!"
Notes:
I spent so much time researching sword hilts just for a few lines. Using a piece of crystal as a pommel was rare, especially for a non-decorative weapon, but there have been some historical examples. Hilts are often wrapped in shagreen, which is rawhide made from the hide of horses, onagers, sharks or rays. Sharkskin is the most durable in cold temperatures.
"...the opposite of help" was taken from an episode of Elementary. I liked the turn of phrase.
I've been writing a lot over the last two weeks, so I'm hoping it will be just a couple more chapters before I return to weekly posting.
Chapter 61: The Approaching Storm
Summary:
The castle in Caer-Dineval has come under attack.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 8, 1496 (7 days after the Full Moon)
The alarm horn sounded again. Pariah was still trying to figure out what was going on, but Zariel was already on her feet and out the door. Pariah rushed after her, leaving Kadroth and Thoob behind.
"What's going on?" Eberic called from above. He and Dejen were standing on the balcony that led to the prisoners' rooms.
"The castle might be under attack," Zariel said, continuing towards the main doors. Lulu flew down from above to join her. Eberic jogged towards the stairs; Dejen followed him more slowly.
Pariah exited into the courtyard. The sled dogs were all on their feet and alert, though none were barking. Five soldiers were up on the wall as was Bjarnson, who seemed to be in a heated discussion with a tiefling woman. Pariah recognized her as Fel, the one who had greeted them on their first trip to the castle. Another soldier on the front wall was holding a large horn. A pair of defenders was on each of the walls to the side. All four had bows ready, though none were preparing to shoot.
"Bjarnson," Zariel called up. "What's happening?"
He broke off his argument to wave out towards the area in front of the castle. "Hunters report three frost giants are headed for town. The citizens have come here for protection, but the soldiers are refusing to open the gates."
"Are you sure it's trouble?" Zariel asked. "That they aren't just here to trade?"
He shook his head. "Frost giants don't trade. They take. And not just goods. They'll take slaves."
Zariel's face clouded. "Open those gates right now!" she barked at Fel.
The tiefling woman called down, "We are not going to jeopardize the security of the caer by opening the gate."
Bjarnson said, "We have time to get the gates closed before they arrive, but only if you open them now."
"We are not opening the gate!" Fel insisted.
Zariel headed for the stairs that led up to the wall. Eberic and Dejen had joined them and moved to follow her, but Pariah put out her hands to stop them. "Lulu," she called out to the asteri who was also going after Zariel. When the angel looked, Pariah waved her over.
When Lulu arrived, Pariah nodded towards the tower to her left, where she knew the gate mechanism was. "Turn invisible. Fly in there and look around, then come back and tell me how many are in there and where they are. And tell Zariel," she tapped her head, "to argue long and loud. Keep their attention off of us. I have an idea."
Lulu looked towards the tower, then towards Zariel, and finally back to Pariah. "Right," she said. She motioned around herself and faded from view, and Pariah heard her fly off.
To the other two she said, "We are going to open that gate whether they like it or not. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Eberic said emphatically.
"Agreed," Dejen said with less confidence.
While she waited, Pariah looked around the courtyard. Nobody was watching her except Alassar. The soldiers were all looking outward. Fel was now arguing with both Bjarnson and Zariel. The latter was gesturing out towards the area in front of the castle with one hand, and turning Fel in that direction with her other hand on the woman's shoulder while berating her for leaving the townspeople in danger. Pariah slid her shield off her back and onto her left arm.
Lulu was back quickly. "There's just one man in there. He's on the second floor and he's standing in the doorway looking out at the argument."
"And the gate mechanism?" Pariah asked.
"It's behind him but he's not watching it."
Pariah nodded. "Eberic, you and me will go in and open the gate. Dejen, you stay outside and guard the door here on the ground. Lulu, fly up to Zariel but keep an eye on that door there," she nodded towards the door on the upper level of the tower that led out to the front wall. "Yell if you see anyone coming in, or if that guy turns around."
The three of them hurried towards the tower. As they passed the kennel, she hissed at Alassar, "Get inside until this is over."
She meant to get inside the keep, but he ducked into the kennel. That was still cover so it would have to do, as long as he was protected if a fight broke out. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough room for all the dogs. Maybe they could be herded into the buildings, but that could wait until the gates were open.
She opened the tower door as quietly as she could, though she doubted anyone heard anything over the loud argument coming from the wall. As Lulu had told them, the first floor of the tower was empty. It looked similar to the other one she'd been in: six cots with footlockers at their feet, an unlit brazier in the middle of the room, and a wooden stairway curving up the wall to the second floor. A column of stone was built into the side wall, reaching to the ceiling.
Dejen took up a position outside the door, standing as casually as he could with his crossbow in one hand and his quill in the other. Eberic pushed the door closed but left it slightly ajar.
Pariah moved quickly and quietly up the stairs. Thankfully the wood was sturdy and didn't creak. She poked her head up to the second floor and saw a Shou man leaning against the wall, watching the argument with a grin. His black hair was long on top but shaved on the sides. His armor looked old and worn. He didn't react as Pariah padded up the final few stairs onto the stone floor.
Two loops of chain hung from pulleys mounted in the ceiling, both disappearing into a hole in the floor. Beneath it would be the column she had seen downstairs. That must lead to the mechanisms for the gate and portcullis. She didn't know which was which, but some one had carved crude symbols into the stone by each chain. One was an arrow pointing up; the other was two arrows pointing left and right. Even an uneducated street rat like her could figure out the first was the portcullis and the second the gate.
She pointed to Eberic, to the first chain, and then made pulling motions. She pointed to herself, to the guard with his back to them, and then took a defensive stance. He nodded and moved to the chain. She moved to a position between the chain and the guard. They exchanged a look, she nodded, and Eberic started to pull.
As soon as the chain moved, Pariah drew her sword and raised her shield to face the soldier. He looked around in confusion as the portcullis started to rumble and then, when he spotted them, yelled out, "Intruders!" as he drew a curved blade.
"Don't!" Pariah warned him. She didn't want a fight, but she was prepared to defend Eberic as he opened the gate. "There's one of you and two of us."
He hesitated, his weapon only half raised. Gambling on the cultists being trained to fear the tiefling members, she growled, "You wouldn't dare stand against one of us, would you?"
The gambit worked, and his sword lowered, though he still looked unsure. However the soldiers along the wall had heard the warning and heard the gate opening. They were looking around, trying to figure out what was happening, but Fel spotted her.
Before the other tiefling could shout an order, Bjarnson turned towards the courtyard and howled at the top of his lungs. It was a primal sound that cut through the rumble of the gate opening, the clank of the chains, and the babble of the guards.
The dogs heard it, and they howled back.
Twenty sled dogs bayed at the sky, the racket adding to the confusion. Meanwhile, Zariel shouted down at the residents outside the front wall, "When the gate opens, get inside! Quickly!"
Fel was disoriented by the noise and action, but she shouted, "Close the gate!"
The soldier at the door looked back and forth between Fel and Pariah, conflicted. Eberic had finished opening the portcullis and was now hauling on the gate chain. Pariah again said to the soldier, "Don't. The townspeople are coming inside. We aren't going to let you close that gate until they are safe."
Two other soldiers came in from the wall, which gave the Shou soldier some courage. He firmed his jaw and said, "Move away. I don't want to have to kill you, sister."
"I'm not the one who's going to die today," she growled back, trying to keep her tone more confident than her thoughts. Their injuries were mostly healed, thanks to Bjarnson's medicine and Zariel's magic, but most of Pariah's magical energy was still drained. Not only that, but there were frost giants incoming. She didn't want to waste effort on these soldiers. However, she didn't need to fight them, she just needed to delay them long enough to get the gates open.
The three soldiers simultaneously got that unfocused look and then, after a moment, they touched their pendants and said, "As you wish, my lord." They all took more relaxed stances, though they didn't sheathe their weapons.
Pariah wanted to see what was going on outside but she didn't trust the cultists. She motioned with her sword towards the doorway. "Get out," she said.
The three hesitated, but then they walked out onto the battlement. Eberic watched them go and said, "I'll stay here. Make sure the gate stays open."
Pariah gave him a nod and then followed the soldiers onto the wall.
The dogs had stopped howling now that Bjarnson was no longer egging them on, though he was still looking out over the courtyard. "Alassar," he yelled. "Alassar! Can you herd the dogs into the rear towers? Giants like to throw big rocks and I want them safe."
"Yes, sir," Pariah heard the boy say, and then he called out, "Hup, heyup!" She saw him waving the dogs over towards the right rear tower. The castle dogs went with him, but the visitors' dogs stood around confused. After a moment, they trotted after the other rest of the pack.
The crowd that was streaming in through the gates, which were fully open now. Zariel called down to them, "Who's in charge of the town militia?"
"I am," a middle-aged half-elven woman called up. "Lieutenant Melithurdrenn."
Zariel said, "I suggest you get half of your soldiers on the walls and in the towers. The other half should remain as a reserve, though they should shelter in the great room of the main keep."
"Hey!" Fel said angrily. "I'm in charge of the security of this keep. You don't give orders here."
Before Zariel could respond, the half-elven woman barked, "Neither of you gives orders to me! I answer only to the speaker. Where is he?"
"The speaker is sick," Fel said. "Our leader, Kadroth, is filling in and I’m his military commander. We have this situation handled. Please just remain in the courtyard until the danger has passed."
The lieutenant frowned as her eyes scanned the battlements. "I don't know you and I don't know this Kadroth. In fact, I don't see any familiar faces at all. I demand to know where the speaker is!"
In exasperation, Fel said, "We can talk about that later. For now, we have a more immediate threat to deal with. I see that the last of your people has made it in," she turned towards the gate tower and called out, "so close the gate!"
Pariah could see that nobody was left in the area in front of the castle, though there were only about a hundred people in the courtyard. She didn't know if that meant this was the entire town or if the others were sheltered in their homes. Regardless, she nodded towards Eberic, and the dwarf started hauling on the chains that closed the gates.
Little of the fading sunlight remained to illuminate the land. The wind was higher than when they had arrived, and the dim light and blowing snow meant it was hard to see more than about a quarter mile. However, out past the edge of town, she saw three massive shapes in the darkness moving towards the castle. It was hard to judge scale, but they clearly were taller than the peaked roofs of the houses at the edge of the village.
Fel said sternly to Zariel, "Please retire to the courtyard. We can handle this."
"I think not," Zariel said firmly. "I’m precisely where I need to be."
Pariah interjected, "No, Zariel, I think she's right." In response to the woman's surprised expression, she added, "I think we as a group need to decide what we are going to do."
Zariel frowned at her, looked out towards the approaching giants, and then turned back. "Very well, but we will have to speak quickly."
Bjarnson joined them as they headed into the tower to get Eberic, and then downstairs and through the tower door to hook up with Dejen. "What is happening?" the latter asked anxiously.
Zariel said, "The giants are near and we need to plan our tactics." She raised an eyebrow at Pariah. "I gather you have something in mind?"
"Not about the battle, but about after." Pariah looked around to ensure nobody else was in earshot. "I think this is a good opportunity to get the prisoners out. Let's get everyone who isn't going to fight into the keep whether these people like it or not. Then someone goes upstairs to get the prisoners, and they join the crowd. Hopefully in the confusion we can get them out before the bad guys realize anything is going on."
Zariel nodded. Slowly she said, "That is a clever plan. I'm embarrassed to admit I hadn't even thought about the prisoners. My mind is on the fight ahead."
"Then that's where it should be," Pariah assured her. "You go talk tactics with the lieutenant. Figure out how best to use the militia, regardless of what Fel says. And tell them about the prisoners, or at least as much as this spell lets you. I want them to be ready. I'm going to get my bow and get up on the wall. Who wants to go after the prisoners?"
"I'll go," Dejen said quickly. "I won't be able to help until the enemy gets much closer anyhow."
"I'll go with you," Eberic said. "Don't think anyone should be alone."
"Good idea," Pariah said. "And don't forget Mere and the cook. Bjarnson, what about you?"
"I'll join you on the wall. I can't use a bow, but I know a little about the frost giants and speak Jotun, so I might be some help. And I still have a lot of my magic available if...well, when a fight breaks out."
Lulu said, "I'll come with you two so that I can tell Zariel how close the giants are."
"Good," Pariah said. "The only question I have left is-" She broke off as the door at the base of one of the rear towers opened. "Never mind. There she is."
The alabaster-skinned tiefling came out of the northwest tower to scowl at the world. She carried her staff, and her raven was perched on one pale horn. She stopped when she saw Pariah and her companions, pausing only long enough to raise her chin and look down her nose at them. Pariah nodded a greeting. Avarice ignored her and resumed her walk to the stairs leading up the wall.
"Well, I guess I'm glad she's here," Pariah said. "I feel a bit less pessimistic about our chances. Let's get moving. Those giants are going to be on us at any moment."
Zariel, Eberic and Dejen headed towards the militia leader. Pariah grabbed her bow and quiver off the sled and then she, Bjarnson and Lulu moved to follow Avarice up the stone steps to the wall. There was a little ice on the steps and no railing so they had to be careful, but made it to the top without incident.
They could see the giants more clearly now. There were three of them, two men and a woman. One of the men rode a mammoth, and the other two walked slightly behind him. The giants stood head and shoulders over the houses, and the rider stood head and shoulders over the walkers. A faint tremor could be felt with each of their footfalls. They moved directly towards the castle, ignoring obstacles. A house on the edge of town was in their path and the mammoth smashed through it as though it weren't there.
They all had long, unkempt white hair and the men's long beards were tangled with ice and snow. Their skin was blue like the ice of a deep, frozen lake. They wore armor made of animal hide and bone, as well as what appeared to be human-sized armor pieces and shields riveted to the material like scales. They wielded massive, double-bladed axes that were a good ten to fifteen feet long with hafts made of entire tree trunks. The mammoth was large even for its species, with shaggy fur that was so matted with snow that it was hard to tell what color it was.
"Hold fire, but stay ready," Avarice said to the soldiers who were readying their bows. "If they were going to attack, they would have started throwing rocks already."
Pariah turned to Bjarnson and asked softly, "Is that true?"
The big redhead was looking out towards the approaching giants with a frown. "Yes," he said slowly. "They usually attack during blizzards, feeling that the storm is a sign from their god, Thrym, that humanoids are ready for slaughter."
She waited for him to continue and, when he didn't, prompted, "But?"
"But," he added, "they also aren't much for talking. They ravage, they kill, they take. At best, they might decide you aren't worth the trouble to kill." He turned to look behind him. "If there wasn't a lake behind us, I'd assume they were just traveling in this direction and the castle was nothing more than an obstacle for them to smash through."
Lulu was standing on Pariah's shoulder. She whispered, "That is the ugliest mammoth I've ever seen."
Despite the approaching danger, Pariah couldn’t help but grin. "Agreed. You were much prettier."
As the giants reached the Uphill Climb -- luckily, their path took them near it but not through it -- the one on the mammoth roared in Jotun, "Where is the horned witch? Bring her to me or we will lay waste to your village!"
Avarice gave an irritated sigh. "I'm right here," she yelled in the same language. "A warrior as blind as you is going to die in battle soon."
The giants came up to the twenty-foot wall, which reached to the noses of the walkers and the chest of the rider. Now that they were closer, it was clear the rider was older, more weathered. He peered at the humanoids on the wall with an exaggerated squint. "Which one? Which one?" he said as his foul-smelling and freezing cold breath washed over them. "All you tiny insects look alike. Oh, there you are, little demon."
In a bored tone, Avarice asked, "What do you want, Olen? You've come awfully far from your mountain."
He scowled at her. Through gritted teeth he growled, "I want my tordenskjold."
Pariah's study of Jotun was rudimentary and she didn't know that last word.
Underneath Avarice's annoyance, Pariah detected a hint of genuine confusion. "What's that got to do with me?"
"I know you stole it!" he roared, his voice blasting across them like a blizzard. "When you came to ask me about the city, you snuck into my armory and took it! Bring it to me or I will smash through your tiny walls and smash you into mush! "
Avarice's irritation grew to anger. "I didn't take your toy, you senile weakling!" she yelled back. "Now go back to your cave or feel a taste of my power!" She brandished her staff of blue-green wood, and shadows started to chase themselves around the black crystal orb at the tip.
The giant laughed derisively, though the other two giants raised their axes threateningly. He said, "Your winter magic cannot touch us, witch!"
"Winter isn't the only power I have," Avarice roared. ”Dowlak rex udz khixdzave," she shouted as she waved her staff along the battlement in front of her. That last sentence was not Jotun. It was a Baatezu invocation, and Pariah wasn't surprised when the entire front wall of the castle burst into flame and spewed an inferno towards the assembled giants.
Notes:
I'm not where I want to be to go back to weekly posting, but I will post next week, just because I left this chapter on a big cliffhanger that I don't want to make you wait two weeks for. After next week, we'll see where I am. Probably I'll skip the week after and then go back to posting every Friday.
This chapter draws inspiration from the history of Caer-Dineval (when orcs attacked the new town, the ruling family refused to let people into the castle, leading to the slaughter of the residents) and Chapter 2 of Storm King's Thunder (frost giants attack Bryn Shander looking for a powerful artifact).
It's a homebrewed scene that came out of a feeling that something had to happen here. At first, I had intended it to be that the Black Sword help defend the town, gaining a grudging respect from the suspicious residents. But, as stories often do, it played out differently. The cultists aren't going to want the residents poking around in the caer, and they'd be fools to give up a fortified position to fight in the streets. I had to think about why attackers would go after the fortified caer rather than raiding the town and stealing supplies, so it became a personal thing with Avarice.
Chapter 62: Attack of the Giants
Summary:
The battle against the frost giants at Caer-Dineval has commenced.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 8, 1496 (7 days after the Full Moon)
The giants reflexively stepped back as the inferno roared over them. The mammoth blared a panicked trumpet, bucked off its rider, and turned to flee. The frost giant roared in Jotun, "Get back here, you cowardly mongrel!" as he rolled to his feet.
Avarice shouted, "Fire! Fire!" It took Pariah a moment to realize she was ordering the archers, not calling a warning about the flames outside.
"Take down those gates," the frost giant leader bellowed as the first volley of arrows from the Black Sword peppered the attackers with tiny wounds.
Pariah sighted down the shaft of an arrow and pulled her magic into it. She hadn't tried it with her bow, but was pleased when the dark magic shifted into the arrowhead. She let loose and the arrow struck one of the frost giants with a burst of energy.
Down in the courtyard, the militia commander was ordering her soldiers into a line. Soon, their arrow volley arced over the wall to join the shots from the battlements and towers. Zariel had dashed up the stairs to the top of the wall to fling a javelin at the giants.
The frost giants charged into the flames that still jetted from the front surface of the castle wall. Two of them raised their massive axes and began hacking at the wood and iron portcullis in front of the gate, their blows shaking the wall under Pariah's feet. The frost giant leader slipped the haft of his greataxe into a sheath on his back, and then reached up to grab the crenellations at the top of the wall, soldiers scattering as fingers as thick as human arms gripped the stone. His blue flesh sizzled in the intense heat as he lifted himself off the ground with a primal yell.
"Well that's just cheating," Pariah mumbled as she backed towards the tower. He wasn't paying attention to anyone individually so she took aim and loose a magic-infused arrow at his face. It buried itself in his right eye, eliciting a scream of pain and frustration that blew across the soldiers like a winter gale. He lost his grip and slipped back to the ground, though he didn't fall far. She ducked back into the tower as he swatted at her, and then he grabbed the wall again and resumed his effort to climb over.
Past him, on the other end of the front wall, Bjarnson held his staff crosswise and chanted something towards the giants below. Pariah couldn't see what happened but hoped it would help. Zariel continued to throw javelins at the giants assaulting the gate. Avarice was gone from the wall and Pariah didn't know where she had gone, at least until a streak of flame shot from an arrow slit in the other tower and erupted into a searing holocaust that enveloped all three frost giants.
The giants continued to chop at the gate, unfazed by the flames shooting into their faces. Their hair was singeing and their blue skin turning purple from the heat, but they didn't slow down as their massive axes swung over and over into the iron portcullis. Pariah kept firing at the leader through the door of the tower. Most of the arrows from the courtyard and the towers were aimed at him as well, though many arced over the wall to strike the other two. Another fiery explosion from Avarice blossomed among them.
Zariel drew her sword and rushed forward to engage the frost giant leader. He had half pulled himself onto the wall, his weight on his elbows, so he couldn't defend as she slashed at him from his left side. With his elbow firmly pressed against the top of the wall, she was only slightly taller than his shoulder. She struck at his upper arm but her blade couldn't cut through the thick hide armor. She stabbed towards his cheek and he jerked away. He shifted his weight onto his left arm and punched at her with his right. She caught the blow on her shield and it nearly forced her off the wall, but she held her ground.
Pariah continued to fire arrows at his face, neck and hands. She wasn't about to engage in melee with something more than four times her height and probably twenty times her weight. She still couldn't comprehend the size of the massive warrior who was pulling himself over the wall.
He placed his hands palms down on the top of the wall and lifted himself until his hips were past the crenellations. He swung his leg up to bring a massive knee smashing onto the stone. The crenellations crumbled beneath the blow. Pariah fired into his thigh but the armor was too thick for her arrow to penetrate, even backed by her magic. With the bulk of his body blocking the door, she couldn't get a good angle for a shot.
She ran down the stairs and out the door at the base of the tower. The militia were lined up in the courtyard, firing as fast as they could at the figure that dwarfed the castle towers. They were using small hunting bows and crossbows, not like the longbow Pariah wielded, but there were a lot of them and the attacks were taking their toll. Blood that was so dark red it was almost purple ran down the frost giant's face and into his beard. His right eye was squinted shut against Pariah's arrow that was still stuck into his eyeball, but he wasn't showing any signs of slowing.
The frost giant flung himself over the wall and belly flopped into the courtyard. Soldiers scattered, though many were still crushed underneath him. He climbed to his feet and drew his axe. "Face me, witch!" he roared as his axe swept through the panicking soldiers.
Zariel flung javelins at him from atop the wall, and Pariah shot up at him from the ground. Behind him, the wooden gate was marred with splintered gashes, showing that the attacking giants had managed to hack through the portcullis. The wooden gates visibly shuddered with every blow as their massive axes hammered at the entrance. Another ball of fire exploded outside, and Pariah could still hear the roar of flames spewing from the other side of the wall.
The militia were in full rout, fleeing into the keep or the surrounding towers. Arrows came from all four towers, directed at the frost giant looming in the courtyard. He turned towards the tower on Pariah's right, the one the fireballs originated from, and he hacked at the stone with his axe. The stone crumbled under the blow, leaving a gash in the bricks, but the tower held. "Face me, witch," he said again, but his voice was tired and breathless. He swung again, but this time the axe blade glanced off the stone and the weapon fell from his hands. "Face me..."
He started to lean backwards, toppling slowly. Pariah scrambled into the doorway of the nearby tower, though he wasn't falling in her direction. He hit the ground with an impact that shook the caer, and his head smacked against the stone wall at the front of the inner keep. He lay from the foot of the tower to the edge of the building, his body spanning diagonally across the courtyard. Pariah watched him carefully, an arrow nocked, but he didn't seem to be breathing.
Bjarnson, still atop the wall with Zariel, yelled in Jotun, "Your leader has fallen. You've lost. Retreat to fight another day."
"Never," called a giant from outside the gate, but his tone held the same exhaustion as the leader's had. The blows against the gate were weaker and less frequent, though they didn't let up. Pariah sprinted up the steps, but as she reached the top there was a tremor as another giant fell. She drew on the last one, but she didn't even get the arrow off before he collapsed as well.
A ragged cheer went up from the militia and the Black Sword. Pariah wanted to celebrate as well, but she knew their fight wasn't over yet. She leaned out over the wall trying to see how bad the damage was. The giants had sheared through the wooden parts of the portcullis and torn it from its mounting. The twisted lattice lay on the ground, having been tossed aside. She breathed a sigh of relief. If the portcullis had been twisted and jammed, they would have been trapped in the castle, giving the Black Sword time to figure out their plan to rescue the hostages.
Zariel and Bjarnson were still nearby. She waved them over. The Black Sword were distracted at the moment, still reveling in victory. Pariah said quietly, "Get that gate open. We have to get these people out of here right now. I'll go check on the prisoners."
Zariel said, "Lulu is with them."
Pariah looked around and realized that the asteri wasn't nearby. She was glad the little angel had found cover during the battle.
Zariel continued, "They have mingled with the rest of the crowd, though they are being peppered with questions by the residents. I'm not sure how long this ruse will work. Bjarnson, you try to open the gate."
He nodded, and headed towards the tower. Zariel continued , "Pariah, you and I should go speak with the militia commander. She understands that our goal is to get the speaker and the staff out, but the geas we are under prevented me from explaining the true gravity of the situation. However, I think she realizes something unnatural is going on." She shook her head. "If the Black Sword tries to stop us, perhaps we can seize the keep building and negotiate. Lulu says that all of them appear to be outside now, other than Kadroth and Thoob who are hiding in his office. Even the soldiers guarding the prisoners came out to help with the battle. However, I fear things will not go well if Avarice decides to stand in our way."
They descended the stone steps towards the courtyard. The body of the frost giant leader lay across their path and they had to scramble up onto his chest to get to the militia commander. Pariah said, "I'm pretty sure Levistus wants us alive. We can hope that he will intervene if necessary."
Zariel scowled at her. "I wouldn't trust him to have our best interest."
"Of course not, but if we are useful, he'll protect us for his own best interest."
"True," Zariel admitted grudgingly.
The gates started to open. Despite the damage, they still hung straight and the hinges were intact so they opened with their usual clank of chains and groan of wood. Fragments of the iron and wood portcullis lattice hung from the top of the opening, but there was plenty of room to get people out.
Fel was still on top of the wall. When she realized the gates were opening, she looked into the courtyard in confusion. "What's going on?" she demanded.
"We're getting the townspeople out of here," Pariah shouted up politely as she jumped down from the giant's chest to the ground. "The battle's over. You didn't want them here in the first place, so we're getting them out."
Fel scowled in suspicion at her. "I suppose," she said, barely loud enough for Pariah to make out.
The militia commander was getting her surviving soldiers in order. Pariah could see at least eight people down. Two were clearly dead, having been nearly chopped in half by the giant's axe. She couldn't tell if the others were also dead or merely badly wounded. A few more were injured but moving.
Pariah paused, holding out a hand to stop Zariel. "You go talk to the commander," she said. "I'm not sure she's going to trust someone who looks like this." She pointed to her face.
Zariel looked at the commander and back at Pariah. "That hardly seems fair."
Pariah managed to avoid rolling her eyes. "Life often isn't. Get the prisoners out of here. I'm going to go after the sleds and dogs. We aren't spending the night here, right?"
The other woman nodded resolutely. "I think not. I imagine we may not be welcome here after this trick."
Pariah grimaced. Somehow, she suspected Levistus would still want to toy with her. With both of them. But that didn't mean they should stay close by.
The doors of the keep opened and the non-combatants started to stream out of the keep. Pariah looked them over quickly. She spotted Roark, the man who ran the Uphill Climb, escorting Culver, the curiosity collector. She saw Torrga with her guards. Then she found what she was looking for: a group of people with hoods pulled up over their faces, hunching down low. They looked suspicious as hell, but hopefully the Black Sword wouldn't question their presence in the crowd. She couldn’t see their faces so couldn't confirm who they were.
"Keep an eye out for Mere," she said to Zariel. "I want to be sure he gets out."
She jogged over to the tower where Alassar had taken the dogs. She opened the door to find the lower floor overrun with a pack of gray and white fur. The dogs all turned towards her and started baying. The noise was overwhelming. She saw Alassar among them and beckoned him over.
"Come on," she yelled over the noise. "We are leaving. Get into the crowd of people and get out of here."
"Yes, missus," he said hesitantly, and then looked over his shoulder at the pack.
She paused. Technically the dogs belonged to the castle. Then again, they probably belonged to the speaker or the town or something like that, not the band of devil worshipers who had taken over. "Take the dogs with you," she said.
"Yes, missus," Alassar said with a relieved grin. He yelled, "Hup, heyup!" with a wave of his arms. He ran out and the castle dogs ran with him. The other dogs watched them go curiously but didn't seem inclined to follow.
"Come on," Pariah yelled, waving towards the exit. "Let's go!"
The dogs watched her.
She grumbled to herself and then took a breath. She calmed her emotions and tried to tap into that energy she had found from time to time. She reached out and felt the emotion of the pack -- not just that of the individual dogs, but the mind of the pack. She grabbed onto that feeling and called out, "Hup, heyup!"
The dogs alerted and started to moved towards her. She stepped out of the tower and waved both arms towards the gate. "Hup, heyup!" she yelled again, and the pack of sled dogs joined the exodus out of the caer. There was enough space around the dead giant to give the town residents and the dogs a path through the courtyard to the gate.
She saw Bjarnson in the courtyard, watching the dogs with an amused expression, and she waved him over. As he got close, she said, "We need to get the sleds out of here before they realize what's going on. We don't have time to hook up the dogs. Do you think we can drag them out ourselves?"
He looked over the sleds, both parked against the wall of the keep, and luckily undamaged from the battle. "It'll take at least two of us per sled."
Dejen, Eberic and Lulu had joined Zariel. The latter was kneeling down, tending to the wounded. "Come on," she said to Bjarnson.
Anxiety was building inside her. The townspeople were milling around and the militia weren't much more organized. Add the complications of the wounded soldiers and the sleds, and their quick escape was not turning out to be so quick. This had all happened so much more smoothly in her mind. They had to get out before-
"The prisoners are missing!" yelled Kadroth. He had come out of the keep, Thoob by his side. "Stop them!"
The Black Sword quickly snapped to attention, reacting faster than any of the others still in the courtyard. Soon a number of them were along the walls, arrows nocked and pointed into the courtyard. A few more came out from the surrounding towers, including the goliath woman. They moved to surround the people who were still present.
The militia were caught by surprise. They formed a defensive circle, but they were surrounded. The numbers on both sides were about equal, but the militia had the look of militia everywhere: scared farmers who could handle a spear, but weren't real warriors. Pariah's sword was still in her sheath, but her hand was on the crystal pommel.
The militia commander said suspiciously, "What do you mean prisoners? What prisoners?"
Kadroth stammered, his pale skin flushing as he realized he had said too much. "The...the castle staff is sick and are not of their right minds. They need to go back to their sick beds so we can take care of them."
"Why did you call them prisoners?" the lieutenant demanded.
Soldiers on both sides were ready to fight. The militia were outclassed. Pariah and her companions would tip the balance, but things were about to get bloody. However any faith she had in victory was dashed when Kadroth looked over at the wall and yelled, "Avarice, come down and deal with this situation!"
Pariah saw the albino tiefling walking the parapet between towers, presumably headed back to her quarters. She stopped to survey the courtyard and the tense situation. She gave a derisive snort and sneered, "Your problem, not mine," and continued walking.
"Get back here!" Kadroth demanded, panic creeping into his voice.
Pariah knew someone had to take control of the situation. She strode forward towards Kadroth. He shrieked in fear and started to back away, but she caught up to him and grabbed his collar. Knowing she wouldn't be able to speak freely if the militia could hear her, she leaned forward to hiss in his ear.
"You listen to me, Levistus. You like making deals? Well, here's one for you. We are leaving with the militia, with the wounded, with our things, and with the prisoners. No one else dies here today. You want to work together? Fine, we can talk. But no more hostages. No more innocent lives getting caught in the middle. Call your lackeys off or we start killing. Maybe you win, but you are going to be a lot weaker than you were a moment ago. And as for you, Kadroth, if a fight breaks out, you are going to be the first one to go down. So tell your people to back down unless you want to go meet Levistus today."
She pulled back, still holding onto his collar, so she could see his face. Arrogance and fear fought for dominance in his expression. He got that faraway look in his eyes as he got a message, and then he gave her a poisonous stare. "Stand down," he said.
"Louder," she replied.
He pursed his lips and then shouted, "Stand down! Let them pass."
Over her shoulder, Pariah said, "Lieutenant, get your people out of here. We'll come last to cover you. Bjarnson, take the others and get the sleds." Knowing her sword wouldn't be useful in these close quarters, she drew her dagger. She held it between her face and his, saying cheerfully, "I think me and my new friend are going to stand right here to be sure everything stays friendly. Right?"
His eyes were focused on the knife in front of him, and she could see the pulse jumping in his throat. "Right," he squeaked out.
Notes:
I thought I'd need one more week off, but I've made enough progress in my writing that I am back to posting every Friday.
This was a statistics battle, not a real one. There are too many combatants for that. I did a lot of math about average damage per round to get a feel for how long the battle should last, and composed the scene from that. Frost giants are notoriously stubborn and bloody-minded, and would rather fight to the death than retreat. Since the castle is a good 500 feet from the town, I assumed there were no boulders or debris that they could throw. Bjarnson spent a couple of spell slots but none of the PCs were damaged.
Chapter 63: Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Summary:
The party beats a hasty retreat from the castle after the battle with the frost giants.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 8, 1496 (7 days after the Full Moon)
The townspeople made their way along the road leading away from the caer. The dead giants had fallen to each side so the main road was clear, which was a blessing of sorts. The crowd moved in dazed desperation, walking quickly past the corpses but then milling about once they reached the edge of town.
Pariah had brought Kadroth to the gate. Seeing that everyone had gotten out of the caer, she released him with a shove and then went to join the others. She pushed on the back of one of the sleds they were dragging through the snow. She didn't know their next move, but she definitely wanted to get out of arrow range of the castle. She wasn't convinced that Kadroth would honor the truce; it occurred to her in that moment that she should have kept her hostage at least until they got to safety.
Lieutenant Melithurdrenn was addressing a squad of militia in the road next to the Uphill Climb. "Take a patrol around the edge of town. I want to know if there are any more giants coming." As the squad jogged off, she sighed, "Not that I have any idea what we'll do if there are."
Or that they'll be able to see anything, Pariah thought to herself. The last of the sunlight was gone, leaving just starlight obscured by blowing snow to illuminate the area.
The lieutenant held up a lantern to study the adventurers as they approached. "Now I figure one of you must know what's going on in this town, and it's about time you told us," she said sternly.
"Of course, lieutenant," Zariel said as their sleds slowed to a stop. "Unfortunately we are..." Her mouth worked soundlessly. She frowned and then said, "I mean that I..." Again she was unable to speak.
Pariah put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me." She turned to the lieutenant. "In no way related to what's going on in the castle, I hate the fact that magic can force you to lie. With that in mind..." She gave the militia leader an intense look. "The speaker has been sick and these very nice, very not-suspicious visitors have been filling in for him." She tried to add, "And they aren't being advised by an archdevil," but the words wouldn't come out. Apparently that was too close to the truth for the geas.
Melithurdrenn looked towards the castle and then back to her. "I see. And what's your role in this?"
Pariah wasn't sure if she was being paranoid or not when she noticed how intently the woman said "your". Hesitantly, she asked, "Do you mean us as a group, or me personally?"
The lieutenant's eyes narrowed. "Both."
The tiefling scowled. "I know there are a lot of my kind in there, but I’m not one of them. And there should be a tiefling boy among the people rescued. He's not one of them either."
"Yeah, I saw him," Melithurdrenn said warily.
"Good," Pariah sighed, relieved that Mere had gotten out. "Look, we are not their friends."
"Every time you've been in town you've gone to see them."
Pariah was surprised the lieutenant knew that much about them, but then realized she shouldn't have been. It was a small town and strangers would stand out, especially people from outside Ten-Towns, and especially especially groups with a tiefling. "We have an alliance of convenience. The duergar are up to something. They've been hunting for chardalyn in the eastern towns. Us and them," she nodded towards the caer, "both want to stop the duergar so we've been working together."
"I'd heard some of them had been found near Caer-Konig."
"Yes. Here, too," Pariah said, and the lieutenant looked surprised. Pariah explained, "The castle soldiers found them and questioned them. And I assume probably killed them. We also found a bunch of them in Easthaven. In fact there are two of them in the Easthaven jail."
"Is that all of them?"
Pariah shook her head. "They have a fortress in the mountains but we don't know much more than that." She sighed. "I had hoped to get help from the people in the caer. They have a wizard and I thought she might be able to do some magical something or other to find the fortress."
Melithurdrenn still regarded her cautiously. "So does this mean you aren't working with them anymore?"
The tiefling shrugged. "I don't know. In most cases, I'd say so, but..." Her voice froze and she realized the spell had stopped her from saying Levistus's name. She continued, "We have a complicated history. They might still find me...us useful."
"So what's their plan? Other than duergar."
Again Pariah's voice stilled. She settled for an irritated shrug. However, she knew Levistus had mentioned plans other than just establishing a presence here. Tentatively she said, "They might be trying to stop the Everlasting Rime." She was pleasantly surprised the words came out.
"Oh?" the lieutenant said skeptically. "You think they can?"
Pariah looked up at the dark sky thoughtfully. "They have some power at their disposal. And some clever thinkers on their side. So...maybe?"
"Are they our enemies? Do we need to fortify the town or besiege the castle?"
Pariah was surprised by the question, though quickly realized it was a fair thing to ask. Slowly she said, "I don't think so. They certainly..." Again she couldn't speak as she tried to comment on the poor treatment of the prisoners. "They're not..." Again she hit a conversational wall. She grunted in frustration. "They aren't a direct threat to Caer-Dineval. They have their own plans and the town itself isn't important to that." That was mostly true. She added, "But they aren't your friends either."
Melithurdrenn gave her a thoughtful look. "All right," she said slowly. "Well, we have a lot to do right now, but I might want to talk to your group later. You staying at the caer or the Uphill Climb?"
Zariel interjected, "I would rather not stay at the caer."
Pariah agreed, now that there were no prisoners for them to monitor, but she had an additional concern. "The owner of the Climb doesn't seem to like my kind," she sighed.
Melithurdrenn gave her a sour look. "To be fair, Roark doesn't like their kind," she waved towards the castle. "What happened today might have changed his mind about you personally. Or it might not have. He's a stubborn old goat."
Zariel said, "Would you have any other suggestions? We had considered sheltering in one of the abandoned houses, but we don't want to break any laws."
Pariah managed to keep herself from laughing, because she knew the woman was serious.
"Well, I suppose we can't have you camping in the snow," the lieutenant grumbled. "Let me ask around and find you a place for tonight. How long are you staying in town?"
Pariah and Zariel exchanged a glance. "We hadn't thought about it," the former said. "I think we want to return to Bryn Shander but..." She shrugged. "I guess it depends on whether we still have business with the people in the caer, and I don't want to go back there until tomorrow. Give them a chance to cool off."
"If we go back at all," Zariel said firmly.
As much as Pariah hated to admit it, having the Black Sword on their side, or at least not as their enemy, would be valuable while they were in Icewind Dale. However, it would be too hard to discuss the merits of continuing their alliance with a cult of devil worshipers in front of the militia commander.
Melithurdrenn said, "All right. I'll find you a place for tonight and you can figure out your plans for tomorrow." She looked up the road towards the castle. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to figure out how to get rid of several tons worth of giant corpses."
Pariah stood in the darkness watching the activity in front of the caer. Four glowing orbs hovered over one of the frost giant bodies, bathing the area in dim, red light. Avarice stood next to the giant's head, which measured about four feet across. She held locks of his white hair in one hand while hacking with a scythe in the other, and then shoved the cut hair into a sack at her feet.
Two hideous winged creature made of stone were also cutting away parts of the giant, but their work was more grim. One held the dead jaw open while the other one sawed away inside the mouth. They had already severed the other giant's tongue, which lay on the ground next to the two sacks of hair they had collected from him, and a sack that held the nails they pulled from his fingers. Pariah had her own experience harvesting creature parts for magical purposes, but the idea of carving up something that looked this human made her face twist in disgust.
When a squad of militia had approached the caer earlier in the day and started examining the corpses for disposal, they had been politely but firmly warned off by the guards on the wall. These bodies were the property of the castle, they said. They refused to answer any other questions, like how they intended to dispose of them.
Pariah glanced to the east and thought she could see a hint of a glow at the top of the mountains. That meant the moon would be rising soon, and the nightly aurora would appear shortly thereafter. She didn't want Avarice to see her watching, so she slunk off into the darkness.
She walked along the narrow stretch of land between the cliff that looked down on the harbor, and the back of the houses set along the town's only road. After passing a few houses, she ducked between two buildings to get to the road. There were no streetlights but she could see well enough in the darkness. She followed the path around the harbor, descending until she passed the boarded up inn, Dinev's Rest. Beyond that were three warehouses that lined the area in front of the town's empty piers. A fog was rolling in from the lake and it was already getting hard to see more than a few feet. She went to the furthest building and let herself in through a side door.
Warm air, lamplight, and the smell of whale oil greeted her as she entered what had been an office area. The lack of lake traffic meant the warehouse itself was unused, which is why they had been allowed to stay here. Any furniture had been moved out long ago, but at least they would be out of the weather. The dogs were out in the main storage area of the building.
"Hey," she greeted the others who were sitting on the floor around the stove in the corner. Eberic was in his bedroll in one corner of the space, apparently already asleep. Bjarnson wasn't present at the moment. She slipped off her cloak and hung it on a hook alongside the other winter wear.
"Anything to report?" Zariel asked.
Pariah tucked her mittens into the pocket of her cloak. "She's harvesting stuff from the bodies, I guess for her spells or something. She has a couple of gargoyles helping her; I hadn't seen those around before." She'd seen similar creatures in Baldur's Gate in service to the Guild, but hadn't realized Avarice had them at her disposal. They certainly hadn't been present during the battle.
"Any idea how she plans to dispose of the bodies?" Dejen asked.
Pariah shook her head. "If she's doing it piece by piece, then she'll be there for a year, but I doubt that's her plan. Maybe she's going to summon a devil or something to carry them into the lake when she's done."
Zariel scowled but didn't say anything.
Pariah poured herself a cup of tea from the kettle on the stove as she mulled over their situation. The town leaders, such as they were in this small community, had met to discuss what to do about the castle residents. The party had been invited to send one representative to attend a meeting scheduled for sunrise at the Uphill Climb. The speaker and Kadroth were to talk about the future of the town. Zariel would be going, though the others agreed they would wait nearby just to be safe. Lulu would monitor the meeting through her mental link with Zariel.
The group hadn't decided when they would be leaving town. The situation was delicate, and it wasn't clear if the adventurers' presence was making that better or worse. Certainly, Pariah had noticed a lot more sidelong looks from the locals than they had been getting previously. The fact that Roark still refused to allow them to stay at the tavern -- they did have rooms despite his previous claims that they didn't -- was a sign that the town wasn't ready to warm up to these strangers again.
Pariah didn't trust the Black Sword's motives, of course. She just didn't know what they were. It's not like they were going to suddenly seize martial control of the town itself, or start sacrificing the locals to Levistus. That wasn't his style. However, she didn't want him to start recruiting more people.
There were still duergar to hunt, which would benefit everyone in the area. She supposed that after the meeting tomorrow, the group should meet with Kadroth before he returned to the caer. The freeing of the prisoners might have permanently broken their alliance, though she doubted it. Levistus was more pragmatic than that. She still didn't know if he was trying to lure her back into a pact or if he just knew she could be a reliable agent.
She was still standing by the stove, letting its heat warm her. She had a question for Bjarnson, but he wasn't present at the moment. She asked, "Where's Bjarnson?"
"Out with the dogs," Zariel said.
Of course he is, she thought to herself with a smile. "I think I'll join him," she said. She finished her tea, grabbed her cloak off the hook, and then headed through the door that led to the main storage area.
The large space was empty of any crates or equipment. Anything left had been moved to the warehouse closest to the road, which was the only one of the three buildings that was still in use. Lanterns hung from the rafters, though they were all dark. The moon had risen and light was coming in from the narrow windows mounted high on the wall, though at the moment that just illuminated the inside of the roof. Bjarnson sat in one of the far corners, a lantern by his side making a pool of light in the darkness. He was surrounded by about half the dogs and he scratched the heads of two of them. The other dogs were spread through the warehouse, padding across the dirt floor to sniff at the interesting smells.
Several of the dogs came up to greet her and she grinned as she reached down to pat their heads. They accompanied her as she crossed the storage area to where Bjarnson was sitting.
"Did you find anything out?" he asked.
She sat down across from him among the pack of dogs and repeated what she'd seen at the caer.
"Those bodies are going to be hard to do anything with once the meat freezes," he observed. "If they are going to cut them up, they are going to need to get started."
Pariah could feel her face twisting into a grimace. "It's one thing to cut up an animal. Butchering something that wears clothes and speaks seems pretty twisted." She snorted. "Then again, I've done that, so who am I to talk?"
He raised his eyebrows at her but said nothing.
Realizing she should probably explain, she said, "A pit fiend." Then, knowing that probably wouldn't mean much to him, added, "A type of devil we came across in Hell. We needed information from an alchemist and apparently pit fiend blood and venom and parts are useful, so we traded those to him."
"I can't help but feel that there is a very interesting story there," he prompted.
She hesitated. The pit fiend story was a pretty good one, but it was part of a larger tale that ultimately revealed Zariel's history. While she could tell the story without including that part, she knew that if she got too casual about discussing her adventures, then she was inevitably going to say something she couldn’t take back. "Sorry, but I don't like to talk about it. A lot of bad things happened while we were there."
"I understand," he said with a sympathetic nod.
Wanting to change the subject, she said, "I had a question for you. What was that argument between Avarice and the giants about? I was able to follow most of it -- they accused her of stealing something -- but I didn't understand what they thought she took."
"I'm not sure," he said. "They called it the tordenskjold, which means 'thunder shield', but I don't know what that is."
"Probably something magic," she guessed. "That could be worth looking for."
He shrugged. "Maybe, but a shield sized for a giant isn't going to be very useful to us."
"That's true," she admitted. "And it's not like we have the time to spare for treasure hunts. Unless of course Avarice did steal it, in which case it's probably in the castle somewhere."
"I don't really want to fight a wizard for it, though."
"Oof," she replied as one of the dogs flopped across her lap. "Don't mind me," she said to the animal with a laugh, scratching behind his ears.
Bjarnson grinned. "You seem to be able to talk to them better than before."
"I think so," she said. "It's half instinct and half magic. I’m still not sure what I'm doing, but it feels more natural. It's surprisingly tiring, though."
"The magic part is helpful, of course, and I'm happy to help you continue down that path. But you might be surprised how much you can communicate with animals just by learning to understand their body language and their energy. There are plenty of people in the world who have a natural rapport with animals who don't use magic. You seem to have the knack for it, but all that city living means you didn't have a chance to develop it."
"I guess," she said. "I never really thought about it before now."
"I could show you. Teach you the skill, not just the magic."
She looked down at the dog in her lap, who was looking up at her and panting with his tongue hanging out. Another was pressed up against her right side and felt warm, and a third was sniffing at her hand. Sitting in the bare dirt surrounded by life felt very normal, even in the icy cold of the night. "Yeah," she said. "I'd like that."
Notes:
According to the wiki, frost giants weigh 6000 lbs or 3600 kg each. There are two outside the walls and one in the courtyard. That's a lot of body to get rid of.
Avarice is harvesting parts listed in Hamund's Harvesting Handbook, though I may find other uses for them than what is listed there.
Chapter 64: The White Witch of the Black Sword
Summary:
The group rests in the uneasy atmosphere between the residents of the town and the residents of the castle.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 9, 1496 (8 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah warmed her hands over the campfire Bjarnson had built in the open area across the road from The Uphill Climb. The original plan had been to wait in Culver's house while Zariel attended the meeting, but Kadroth had shown up with a retinue of four soldiers who were now standing guard outside the entrance to the tavern. The group had decided to stay nearby just in case Kadroth had nefarious plans, and that meant they had to wait outside.
It was good weather for it, relatively speaking. The wind was calm and there were only a few scattered clouds in the dimly lit sky. There was no chance of a blizzard blowing in unexpectedly. They had braved the cold for the first half hour but Bjarnson had finally liberated some of the wood from the pile stacked next to the tavern and built the fire they were now huddled around.
Torrga's guards, though not the dwarven woman herself, had set up next to the tavern and were doing a brisk business in armor and weapons. Once their stock was depleted, the group could hear the guards telling disappointed customers that they planned to load up in Dwarven Valley and have plenty of armaments when they returned in two weeks. Some of the townspeople loitered to loudly advocate storming the castle, often with sidelong looks at the group of visiting adventurers. Pariah wasn't sure if that meant they wondered if the strangers would help them, or if they wondered if the strangers were enemies.
Lulu kept the group apprised of events inside the tavern through Zariel's mental link. The town was represented by the speaker, the militia lieutenant, and Roark, who was the only business owner left in Caer-Dineval. Torrga was also attending as an interested party. Kadroth and Thoob were speaking for the Black Sword, though the latter had not said anything so far. Avarice was not present.
The Black Sword claimed they were worshipers of Helm who had come to protect the town from the rising problem of the duergar. The current speaker, they said, was not building adequate defenses so they had seized control of the castle purely for the safety of the town. They intended to remain in the caer but Kadroth insisted they were not trying to interfere with the local government.
"Won't Helm object to their lies?" Dejen wondered aloud.
Lulu replied, "Probably, but it might take him a while to get around to doing anything about it."
"And 'a while' means a very long time," Pariah added, hearing the irritation in her voice. "I know of a priest of Bane who secretly ran the temple of Tymora in Baldur's Gate for years and was only stopped when some townspeople murdered him."
"Really," Dejen said in enthusiasm. "How did they discover his true identity?"
Pariah shrugged his question off impatiently, not wanting to get into the details of the incident. Thankfully, he got the hint and didn't pursue the subject.
The speaker tried to argue with the Black Sword, but the geas prevented him from voicing his real objections so he often came across as a rather confused old man. The lieutenant was quickly won over by the idea of military support, saying she had been trying to get the town to build walls for years. Roark didn't seem to have an opinion either way. Torrga threw her support behind the Black Sword, saying that defenses meant stability which meant good business for everyone.
Pariah and the others had discussed the sitution that morning before the meeting started and had come to the same conclusion as before: Levistus and the Black Sword were hardly benevolent allies, but they did seem to be the least imminent of evils in the area at the moment. Both Zariel and Eberic pointed out that trying to dislodge a fortified enemy would mean weeks or even months of siege. The town wasn't in a position to launch such an operation, and the adventurers couldn't take time away from their other goals to stay and support them.
So Zariel was in the tavern counseling cooperation between the town and the Black Sword, and doing her best to smooth over disagreements. At the moment they were hammering out the details of supplies, defense tax, and areas of authority. Speaker Siever was the biggest obstacle to the process, and Pariah could appreciate his frustration, but his inability to voice his concerns was quickly eroding his authority.
The meeting hadn't been the only focus of their attention. Dejen had pointed out that the broken portcullis had been taken down. A short time later, the Black Sword had brought out a brand new portcullis and started mounting it in front of the gate. That baffled Pariah. There was no way they could have fabricated a new one so quickly, and it didn't seem likely they would have a spare on hand. A discussion among the group concluded that it must be some kind of magic, like the repairs that Dejen could do but much, much more sophisticated.
During this operation, the gates were open to give the soldiers room to work. The body of the frost giant leader wasn't visible in the courtyard. Pariah was positive they should be able to see it, which implied the castle had found some way to get rid of it. The other two bodies were still lying in front of the castle walls.
Avarice came out of the main gate and towards one of the giant corpses. She walked around the body, studying it thoughtfully. Her raven flew off her horn and perched on the wall, watching as she paced a circuit around the body. When she returned to where she had started, she planted both feet and held her staff. Using it like a shovel, she mimed a digging motion in the air. Dirt flowed up from under the corpse to form a pile. She retraced her path, continuing to make shoveling motions to guide dirt out from under the frost giant. The corpse tilted to one side, stiff with either cold or rigor mortis or both, as the dirt below it was removed from beneath half of it.
After a couple of minutes, she had completed another circuit around the giant and finished digging the grave. However, her excavation was only a couple of feet deep and the corpse was still clearly visible over the edge of the hole. Pariah expected her to move the dirt over the body to create a mound, but instead she moved to the other frost giant and repeated the operation. Soon there were two shallow graves, neither deep enough to hold the bodies.
Avarice returned to the first hole and waved her staff over the excavation while intoning an enchantment Pariah couldn't hear at this distance. The body started to sink into the hole, out of sight.
Lulu, curious, turned invisible and flew over to investigate. The raven started loudly cawing at the air and then took off. It flew aggressively over Avarice's head, continuing to cry shrill warnings. Avarice herself didn't pay attention to the commotion. Pariah heard wings and then Lulu appeared and landed near the fire. "Stupid bird," she said.
"Are you all right?" Pariah asked.
"Yeah. It was just trying to scare me, I guess," Lulu grumbled.
"So what did you see?"
"The bottom of the hole is all goopy and the body is sinking into it."
"Really?" Pariah said, looking back towards the castle. Avarice was moving to the other grave to repeat her spell. "That's actually a pretty clever way to bury a body. I wonder why she dug it out first."
"The other hole was stone at the bottom, so maybe she can only make stone goopy, not dirt."
After the second body was buried, Avarice used her magic to move the loose earth and refill the holes, spreading the dirt around enough to leave the ground flat. Other than the lack of snow, there was no sign a battle had taken place.
When Avarice finished, she started to walk back towards the castle. The soldiers had finished mounting the new portcullis but the gate was still open. Then she stopped just before the wall and stood there, unmoving. After a time, she turned to look towards the group. She was too far away for them to see her face clearly, but Pariah couldn't help but assume the wizard was looking at her. Finally, the albino tiefling started walking towards them. Her raven flew from the wall to land on her horn.
"I wonder what this is about," Pariah sighed. Avarice was clearly walking towards them, not towards the tavern where the meeting was taking place, and there was only one person in the group she would be interested in talking to.
Avarice arrived and, as expected, had eyes only for Pariah. "Come with me," she said.
"Why?" Pariah asked suspiciously.
Avarice's face clouded. "We should talk about the duergar and our future plans to destroy them. And I wish to evaluate your magic, see if you have learned anything."
"Fine, have a seat," Pariah replied, gesturing to the ground around the fire. "We can talk here."
"I'd prefer speaking in my quarters."
"And I'd prefer speaking out here," Pariah replied firmly. "I hardly think any of us is safe in the castle now that we've freed your prisoners."
Avarice scoffed, "They were never my prisoners. I didn't have an opinion about them either way. In the caer, you will be under my protection as long as you don't attack us."
"And Kadroth will be fine with that?" Pariah asked.
"I don't answer to Kadroth," she said sharply. "I answer only to our master."
"Your master," Pariah barked. "I don't serve him. Or you. Or Kadroth."
"You will have to-" Avarice began, but then broke off and took a breath. In a calmer tone, she said, "We have a common goal. You will need my help, his help, if you want to defeat the duergar, and you will certainly need it if you want to stop Auril. You will be safe inside the caer, no matter what the Black Sword think of you. Kadroth wouldn't dare defy me or our master."
Pariah considered the idea. It was true that they would need help to reach their goals, so staying on the good side of Levistus and his cult -- at least for now -- was probably in their best interest. In addition, Avarice seemed to have a good idea what was going on in the area and might be a valuable source of information. "We all come," she said, motioning to the rest of the group.
Avarice's mouth twisted into a sour frown. "Very well."
"We'll come see you after the meeting ends," Pariah said.
The other tiefling didn't seem happy with the delay, but nodded before turning to hike up the trail leading back to the castle.
Pariah fidgeted nervously as the others came down the ladder into the underground area of the caer. Zariel and Lulu were the only ones who'd been down here before. The other three looked around curiously, peering into the dark store room or out across the water of the cistern. "This way," she said as she opened the closed door on one wall and led them into the shrine of Levistus.
As before, the walls, floor and ceiling were covered in a layer of frost and the room was even colder than the freezing air outside. The statue of Levistus, held by black chains to a pillar, gazed out at them from within his prison of unnaturally clear ice. This time she was sure of it -- he was watching them through the eyes of his effigy. Maybe it was her imagination, but the feeling was so strong she expected the statue to greet her with an unsettling grin.
"Stay away from that," she said, motioning towards the sculpture. Then, realizing they might misunderstand, said, "The mold I mean." The back wall was covered in a carpet of brown fungus. "I've encountered something like it before. It sucks the warmth right out of you and could probably kill you."
"Really?" said Dejen, stepping forward and raising his lamp to get a closer look.
"And keep flame away from it," she said sharply, reaching out to grab his shoulder and pull him back. "Fire makes it grow." He was probably far enough away to be safe, but she could imagine him getting close to study it and triggering a reaction that could endanger all of them.
She had never seen anyone in the shrine and wondered if they came down to worship him in person. The room wasn't large. Even their own group couldn't all fit inside without getting dangerously close to the brown mold. That meant there probably weren't formal services.
One other door led out of the shrine, this one also closed. Pariah walked up to it and felt her heart pound. She hadn't been this nervous before, but she hadn't seen the scale of power Avarice could draw upon until recently. If this woman wanted them dead, there wasn't much any of them would be able to do about it.
Pariah knocked firmly on the door. After a moment, a voice called, "Come!"
Avarice was seated at her small desk, three books open before her. Her raven was perched on the mirror frame, preening its feathers. Avarice scowled as the group crowded into her room and quickly closed the books before standing. Pariah craned her neck but wasn't in a position to see the titles on the spines.
"The meeting is over?" Avarice asked.
"Yes," Pariah replied.
"What did they decide?"
It was Zariel who answered. "The Black Sword will be allowed to stay in the castle for now. The town will not interfere with traffic or the flow of supplies. However, the Black Sword has no authority over the town's administration, and the castle will be expected to maintain its role of protection." In a harder voice, she added, "For example, the castle will, without hesitation, open itself as a refuge if the town is attacked again. And the Black Sword will be expected to fight to defend the locals."
Avarice grunted derisively and then said, "And what of the duergar? What have you found out?"
Zariel hesitated, confused. "Didn't Kadroth tell you what we told him?"
The tiefling made a dismissive wave of her hand. "I haven't spoken with him. I want to hear it directly from you rather than trust what he chooses to tell me."
Pariah raised an eyebrow. She had suspected a rift between Avarice and the others, but this seemed to confirm it. She wasn't sure what that meant, but it might be something they could exploit in the future.
Zariel crossed to the map drawn in chalk on the wall. "We didn't find out any more about their objectives than what we knew before." She studied the map and then pointed to the area they had shown Kadroth. "We believe their main stronghold to be in this area, though we don't know a more precise location than that."
Avarice moved to stand next to Zariel and look at the location she had indicated. Zariel moved a step back from her, but then studied her thoughtfully. "Kadroth thought you might have some way of searching that area."
"Did he?" Avarice asked. She frowned in thought. "I can't think of any magic that would help me from this distance." Then an idea occurred to her and she said, "Oh, he might mean Gargle and Gurgle."
Zariel was nonplussed. "Excuse me?" she asked.
"My gargoyles," Avarice explained. "I could send them to fly over the area. Weather permitting, they might be able to spot the stronghold from the air."
"Unless it's underground," Eberic said.
"True, but if they spot duergar in the area, they could follow them back to their base."
Meanwhile, Pariah had walked over to the desk to look at the spines of the books. The titles were not Chondathan, nor written in an alphabet she recognized, but she could read them. "What's Netherese?" she asked as she opened one cover.
Avarice stalked over and slammed the book shut. "These are not your concern!" she said sharply.
Dejen, oblivious to the emotions in the room at the moment as usual, said, "It means relating to the people of Netheril."
That wasn't helpful. "What's Netheril?" Pariah asked. She was aware of the emotions in the room, but didn't really care that Avarice was annoyed at the moment. The woman was always annoyed. She made Eberic look light-hearted.
Dejen said, "An ancient magocratic empire that ruled over most of the continent about two thousand years ago. Considered the pinnacle of human civilization at the time."
"So not related to the duergar or Auril," she said, disappointed she hadn't discovered an important secret of Avarice's.
"Not that I can see," Dejen responded, and then his brow furrowed. "Although..." He trailed off in thought, staring at the ground.
"What?" Pariah prompted.
Dejen looked up, but he didn't look at Pariah. He looked at Avarice and said, "It's odd, you know. You mentioned that you are a member of the Arcane Brotherhood. And, from what we've been told, there are quite a surprising number of members of the order in the area."
"So?" Avarice demanded.
"So, the Netherese studied some of the most powerful magic ever to have existed in history. A cache of their artifacts or books would be the prize of a lifetime to a member of the Hosttower. Is that why you're here?"
Avarice's lips pursed whiter than usual. "I'm here at the bidding of Levistus," she said.
"I see," he said, and he glanced at Pariah. "I see," he said again.
Pariah wasn't sure what was going on. She got the impression that Dejen was trying to communicate something to her, but she didn't know what it was. What she did know is that Avarice's statement was a lie, or at least not the entire truth.
Dejen swiveled his eyes back to Avarice and asked, "And what can you tell us of the others that are here? One was burned at the stake in Easthaven."
Avarice held his gaze for a moment before giving a derisive snort. "Dzaan," she said. "What a weakling, letting a few guardsman haul him off for execution. Any wizard worth their salt would have left the town a smoking crater."
And that's when Pariah remembered something: among Dzaan's possessions was a book on Netheril. It was still in her backpack, unopened. Maybe it was time she read it.
Zariel said to Avarice, "And one with undead servants."
Avarice shifted her gaze over the group as thoughts chased themselves across her face. After a few moments, she sighed and sat on the edge of her desk, her arms crossed. In a somewhat resigned tone, she said, "Vellynne."
"Is she dangerous?"
"We're all dangerous," Avarice said darkly. "To you? Yes. To me? No. I really don't care what she's up to."
Another lie.
Dejen asked, "Any others?"
The albino tiefling considered him carefully before she responded. "I heard that Nass Lantomir followed us out here, but I don't know where she is. She was a master of divination magic so may be following her own spells. Then again, she was a poor wizard so probably got eaten by a yeti, or froze to death in the wilderness."
Pariah picked up on a detail of what she had just said. "Followed us? Who's 'us'?"
Avarice gave her a stormy look but remained silent.
Dejen said, "You came out together, didn't you? The three of you. Sent by the Hosttower. But why? To find Netherese artifacts?"
The tiefling wizard said nothing, but the poisonous look she gave Dejen was answer enough. He continued, "But you are no longer working together. A falling out? Not surprising among the Brotherhood."
"Enough!" said Avarice loudly, standing up. "Our business is about the duergar and Auril, and none if this is relevant to that. I've heard what you have to report, so it's time for you to leave. Get out!"
Pariah felt her natural stubbornness coming out in response to Avarice's imperious nature, and part of her wanted to stay just out of defiance. It was Zariel who said, "She is correct. Our business here is at an end, so let us return to town and decide what our next plan of action is." She moved to the door and opened it.
The rest of the group, prompted by her decisive action, filed out of Avarice's quarters, through the shrine and back out to the room at the base of the ladder leading up. Bjarnson said, "I feel like I missed a lot of the subtext there. What just happened?"
Dejen was lost in thought, and Pariah was mostly just lost. Zariel said, "Let's wait until we get outside. Who knows who is listening while we are here?" She looked around suspiciously.
With that in mind, they silently climbed the ladder into the guard tower, exited into the courtyard, and out the front gate to the main road leading into town. As they passed the Uphill Climb, Bjarnson said, "All right, we are away from the castle. What just happened?"
Dejen said, "Well, um, let's see. I'm trying to think of a short explanation. Basically, the Netherese Empire of Magic existed for about 3500 years and was one of the most powerful empires in human history. They founded secrets of magic that remain undiscovered today, so knowledge and relics of their empire are in great demand." He looked up at the dark sky. "But they don't have anything to do with the duergar or Auril so, while this is interesting, it's not important to our goals."
Zariel replied, "I'm not sure I agree with that. They broke magic and killed a god. The fall of their empire was a tremor that was felt throughout the planes. And Amaunator, an aspect of Lathander, was part of their pantheon. If we need the power to stop Auril, I'd trust Netherese magic and Amaunator's blessing more than I'd trust a devil's scheme."
"Technically, they didn't kill a god," Dejen corrected her. "Mystryl sacrificed herself after they, as you put it, broke magic. And Karsus wasn't necessarily indicative of the average Netherese wizard."
Pariah's brow furrowed. "The more you explain, the more confused I get. Who's Karsus?"
Dejen's face lit up. "Maybe I should tell you the longer version of the story after all. Let's make our supper and I can tell you about Karsus's Folly."
Notes:
Avarice was using mold earth and transmute rock to bury the bodies.
I've mentioned that the module has three main threads: Auril, the duergar, and a third that I didn't want to talk about before. Well, now I'll reveal the third plot has something to do with Netheril. The problem is, all three of these threads are independent of each other. I'm trying to weave them together.
I'm not going to explain Karsus's Folly in the story, but I realize not all of you may know every detail about Forgotten Realms lore. Karsus was a Netherese wizard who tried to become the new god of magic. He sort of succeeded, but was unable to control the power of the Weave, the source of all magic. Mystryl, the former goddess of magic, sacrificed herself to break Karsus's contact with the Weave, which caused all magic to stop briefly as well as killing Karsus. She was then reincarnated as Mystra, the new goddess of magic. The interruption of magic caused all spells to fail, which was unfortunate for the flying cities of Netheril since they all crashed to the earth.
Chapter 65: A Town in Peril
Summary:
With their business in Caer-Dineval done, Pariah and her friends head back to Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 10, 1496 (9 days after the Full Moon)
They left Caer-Dineval as soon as the sky lightened in the east the following day, headed for Bryn Shander in the short term to check in on Copper and to get away from Avarice and the Black Sword. The weather had been decent enough, with only a light wind blowing snow across their path. They turned at the crossroads onto the Eastway, where the dogs were able to pick up speed. They had gone through Waycamp and now were passing a sickly wooded area to their left. Pariah knew that meant they were about three miles away from the town.
She was piloting the sled, figuring that she should get more experience handling the dogs on these roads. It seemed more and more likely they would be heading out into untracked tundra and she couldn't expect Bjarnson to do the driving all the time. Eberic's sled was in the lead, Zariel and Dejen riding in back.
That left the big man sitting in the sled behind her along with a new passenger: Mere. She was glad the tiefling boy had agreed to come with them back to Bryn Shander. The other prisoners had returned to their friends and families but he didn't have a place to live. Instead of squatting in an empty house there, it seemed better to return to Bryn Shander where he knew people such as Beldora. Pariah hoped to talk Copper into letting Mere stay in the former shrine, maybe in return for some chores.
As they came to the edge of the forest, she saw a snowy owl perched on the branches of the last tree along the road, watching the two sleds approach. Pariah didn't think much about that; she had noticed the owl only because it was the only animal she'd seen since the fox she'd spotted before the crossroads, pouncing on some prey buried in the snow. As the sleds passed, the owl took flight and followed them. The dogs were faster so it was quickly lost in the blowing snow behind them, but it had seemed intent on their trail.
"Did you see that?" she asked Bjarnson as she looked behind them.
"See what?" he asked from his position seated on a backpack.
She pointed back down the road. "The owl."
He looked behind them and then turned to her, as did Mere. "I don't see anything," the redheaded man responded.
She suddenly felt foolish. It was just an animal. "Nothing. Never mind."
He climbed to his feet as he looked behind them again. "What did you see?"
"Nothing," she said with what she hoped was a dismissive laugh. "I think I'm just getting tired."
"What did you see?" he persisted gently.
She pursed her lips. "It was just an owl. It was sitting in a tree and, when we passed, it followed us. Or, more likely, just happened to fly in our general direction. Forget it. It's silly."
"Maybe," he said. "Maybe not. Could have been the familiar of another wizard; we know there are others. And the local frost druids use animals as spies, and can change into them like I can. They are friendly to Auril, so may see us as enemies."
"Maybe," she admitted. "Or maybe it's just an animal and I'm edgy because of Avarice's raven."
"That's fair," he chuckled. "This wouldn't be another one of hers, would it?"
Back in Caer-Dineval, the raven had followed them back to the warehouse they had been staying in, and had sat outside all night watching. In the morning it had disappeared for a while and then returned carrying a package: three arrows wrapped in a piece of parchment. On the parchment was a message written in Lesser Baatezu: "These arrows are tipped with white dragon teeth and enchanted with winter magic. Each can be used several times. Don't waste them." There was no signature but, considering the delivery method, they were obviously another present from Avarice, possibly under the orders of Levistus.
"I don't think so," Pariah said in response to Bjarnson's question, turning her attention back forward. "And it wouldn't have been able to get ahead of us."
"All right. But we'll keep an eye out. Owls aren't that common and if we see it again, that might mean someone is watching us."
"Get in line," she sighed as she ran over the list of other enemies they'd made. It wouldn't be the duergar or frost giants. The hag was dead. One of the Luskan wizards might be behind it if they were watching allies of Avarice, but how would they have known the group would be coming this way? She wanted to ask Bjarnson about these druids he mentioned, but figured that was a conversation for the entire group.
Eberic's sled suddenly slowed down and she pulled on the reins to slow her own team. As he came to a stop, she pulled up next to him. "What wrong?" she called over.
He silently pointed in front of them. About seventy feet ahead, the wind was visibly stronger and a wall of snow blew across the road. It wasn't a blizzard, just a powerful stream of wind that disturbed the snow. "So?" she asked, confused.
"The wind is coming from the north. The wind never comes from the north."
On the one hand, that seemed like a pretty odd thing to be worried about. On the other hand, they were in a land locked in eternal dark and cold by the Goddess of Winter's Fury. "You think this might be Auril?" she guessed.
"I don't know," he said. "We heard about what happened in Targos when her sacrifice was stopped. The city walls are only about a quarter mile ahead. Maybe this is something she did because of the death of her cult leader."
"Oh," Pariah said softly. However, that still wasn't proof. She asked Bjarnson, "What do you think?"
He was watching the storm with his brow furrowed. "He's right. This is not a natural storm. We should be careful. Tell him about the owl."
"What owl?" Eberic asked.
Pariah felt embarrassed about that. "It was probably nothing, but there was an owl a ways back. I thought maybe it was watching us, but maybe it was just an owl."
Eberic scowled at the storm ahead. The fact he seemed to be taking her observation seriously made her wonder if there really was something to worry about. They were all still recovering from the battle in the hag cave four days ago. Most of their magic was back, but they still weren't at full strength.
Zariel said, "I worry that some of her undead or other enemies may be waiting in the storm. We should push forth, make sure the townspeople are safe, but we should also arm for battle."
They were mostly ready for battle as it was. The roads could be dangerous, as they had discovered previously. Pariah strapped on her shield and made sure her bow was nearby, though it wouldn't be worth much in the wind ahead.
While they were getting ready, Dejen said, "It can't be too bad in there. We did see a patrol on our way back."
That was true. They had passed a Bryn Shander guard patrol shortly after Waycamp. The patrol sleds moved at a walk so their own sleds had sped past the soldiers. That implied that the city was operating as normal. Maybe the wind was just wind.
Bjarnson took the reins and Pariah was happy to let him. Mere was watching the preparations with a worried look. She said, "It's probably fine. But if anything happens, you get to safety. Get in town and find Beldora."
"Yes, missus," he said.
With a shake of reins and a "Hike!", Bjarnson got the dog team moving and they approached the wall of blowing snow.
There was an abrupt transition as the sleds entered the storm and the wind tore across them, pulling the warmth from their bodies although they were bundled in furs. It was as sudden a change as walking under a waterfall, and Pariah was more convinced this was something magical rather than natural weather.
The dogs pushed on tenaciously and their passengers braced themselves against the wind as best they could. It might not be a blizzard, but it wasn't much less than one. Visibility was short and Pariah was afraid they'd get lost trying to walk a straight line, but it wasn't long before the city walls rose up before them, looming out of the storm.
The sleds pulled up to the gate and Bjarnson bellowed, "Hello up on the wall!"
His voice was swallowed by the wind and nobody came out from the towers to call down to the visitors, but the gates started to open. Each time they'd come to town, they'd been interrogated by the guards on the wall. This change in procedure had Pariah's suspicions on edge.
The gates parted to reveal an open area just beyond. This was the same place they had confronted Vellynne the necromancer weeks before, although the area had changed. A wooden palisade lay across the main road ahead of them. The two smaller roads to each side were blocked by crudely fashioned walls of stony rubble. Six soldiers were scattered in a half circle around the edges of the area, and a redheaded dwarven woman stood in their path. "Halt!" she called out, though her voice was listless rather than authoritative.
She cast a cursory glance at the sleds as they stopped in front of her. "What's your business here?" she asked as the gates closed behind them. Pariah was nervous about being trapped in this area, but the guards didn't give off an air of menace, and the woman before them didn't seem threatening, just...sad.
Bjarnson answered, "Travelers, and friends of Sheriff Southwell and Speaker Shane. We've come to report on the situation in the eastern towns."
Pariah wasn't sure if he had come up with the answer previously or if he was making something impressive up on the spot. Either way, it was a good answer. The dwarf looked at him more closely. "Lower your hoods," she said.
They all did so and she looked them over. "I'm the chief deputy and I've never seen any of you. How do you claim to know the sheriff?"
"We brought in the Coldheart Killer and helped bring the murderers of the town priests to justice."
Rather than impressing her, that seemed to make her more suspicious. "Oh, you were the ones?"
"Yes," he said hesitantly. "Sheriff Markham can vouch for us if need be, but we are really here to rest for a day or two and to visit the former House of the Morninglord to check in on Copper. Maybe trade a little."
She made an unsatisfied grunt. "Where will you be staying?"
"The Northlook."
"Very well," she sighed. She motioned to two soldiers standing near the palisade and they moved to pick it up and shift it to the side, clearing the road. "There's a curfew from six to six. No one is allowed on the streets at night. If we see you, you'll be arrested. A crier will go through town at five in the evening to call a warning and then again at six to announce the curfew. The lifting of curfew will be announced each morning."
Pariah blurted, "Why?" And then, realizing the question was a little vague, she added, "I mean why the curfew? What's changed."
The woman scowled at her and said, "We're just keeping order. Now move along." She waved them down the street.
From her tone, it was obvious the conversation was over. Maybe it would be worth a visit to the sheriff after all, just to find out what was happening.
Bjarnson didn't start the sled moving just yet. He pointed upwards and said, "This weather seems unnatural to me. How long has it been like this?"
Within the protection of the walls, the wind and snow were less but the storm still raged over their heads. The dwarven woman looked up with melancholy eyes and said, "About a tenday. Some people say it's just bad weather, but other people think Auril is angry that someone killed her priest." She accompanied that last comment with a pointed look at them. "Now move along!"
Pariah had more questions, but this woman wasn't interested in talking. Bjarnson and Eberic got the dogs moving and the sleds started down the main street that led to the market plaza. There was more snow on the ground than she'd seen before, making it easy for the sleds to travel the streets.
After a few blocks, Zariel said, "We'll be passing by the town hall. Perhaps we should go see the sheriff."
Mere piped up, "I don't want to see the sheriff. In fact, I can just get off here. I'll go look for Beldora." He grabbed the bag with his meager belongings and stepped off the sled.
"Wait!" Pariah said, and jumped off the sled as well. That caused Bjarnson to stop and Eberic followed suit. She said, "I'll come with you. I don't really want to see the sheriff either." That wasn't true; she wanted to know what Southwell had to say. But she also understood why a street kid like Mere wouldn't want to go there. She wanted to be sure he got to Beldora safely, but she had another motivation. "Dejen, how about if you and me go with Mere. We'll find this Beldora person, make sure Mere gets settled in somewhere. We can meet the rest of you at the inn."
"Yes," Dejen said with a little too much enthusiasm. "That seems like an excellent idea. The rest of you can take the dogs to the stable and go see the sheriff. We could take Lulu to stay in touch."
Zariel was frowning at them, and Pariah was afraid she was about to tell the others who Beldora really was, but instead she said with reluctance, "Yes, I agree. No reason for us all to bother the sheriff." Intently, she added, "Be on your guard. I fear what Auril's followers might do if they know we are in town."
"We'll be careful," Pariah said. "Mere, where do you think we'd find Beldora?"
"Probably near the market. But let's go this way," he pointed to a side street.
The road they were on led to the market, but Pariah guessed he was avoiding the town hall. She said, "All right, lead the way."
The weak daylight still illuminated the city, though it would be dark soon. Mere led them a block north and then onto a street that ran parallel to the road that led from the East Gate. It didn't take long before they saw the marketplace ahead. Two merchant stalls were open and a handful of customers were viewing their wares. Mere stopped at the end of the street, not stepping out into the plaza, and looked over the people. "She's not here," he said. "Look, I'm fine from here. You can go join your friends."
"I think we'd like to come along," she replied. "We met her before. I want to check in on her, make sure she's doing well." She assumed that Mere didn't know that Beldora was a Harper so she didn't want to say anything about that. "I know she had a camp on the west side of town."
He shrugged under his furs, "She wouldn't be there now. She's just there at night. She sometimes hangs out in front of Blackiron Blades."
He turned back the way they came and turned off on another narrow street. They made their way around the outside of the plaza to another wide street, this one leading to the North Gate. Ahead of them was Blackiron Blades, and sitting beside the door was a figure hidden by cold weather clothing. "There she is," Mere said in relief.
"How do you know? Everyone looks the same, like a big bundle of furs."
"Everyone's gear looks different," he explained. "I know those furs, those boots, those gloves."
As she looked more closely, she realized he was right. The furs were a patchwork of different animal pelts stitched together. Her boots were sturdy but clearly too big for the size of the person wearing them. Her crude mittens were made of thick hide. Pariah hadn't noticed those details before, but now she could see a unique look. Probably everyone had their own appearance, as distinctive as seeing their face.
Mere looked up and down the street before stepping out and crossing to the shop. "Beldora?" he said.
"Mere!" the woman exclaimed, climbing to her feet. "You're back!" She hugged him and he hesitantly returned the gesture. "And who are your friends?"
He motioned to them and said, "Pariah and Dejen. Oh, and Lulu."
Beldora nodded a greeting. "Good to meet you. Spare a silver for a poor soul with no home?" She winked at them, a gesture that Mere wouldn't have been able to see.
"Sure," Pariah said, fishing a gold coin out of her pouch. She realized she didn't know what Beldora's financial situation was. Was the appearance of a homeless beggar just a cover, or did she really live this rough all the time? Her face had the gaunt features of someone who didn't get enough to eat, but that also might just be how she normally looked. Either way, if she didn't need the coin then she probably knew someone who could be helped by it.
Pariah knew they needed to talk, but didn't know of a clever way to get rid of Mere so they could discuss matters openly.
Dejen said, "We helped Mere get out of a bad situation in Caer-Dineval. Things are a little rough out there but better than they were."
Mere said, "Yeah, there's a..." And his mouth moved soundlessly. He stamped a foot in annoyance and mumbled, "I can't really talk about it."
"I understand," Beldora said, patting him on the shoulder. "These things can be hard to talk about."
"No, I mean I can't. Because of-" Again he broke off.
"Sure, sure," she said. "You're back and you're safe. That's what's important. Look, Mere, why don't you run along to Huer's place. I think he's got a spare bed. I'll be along a little later after I've thanked your friends for helping you. All right?"
"Sure thing, missus," he said, ducking his head. He turned to the others and said, "Uh, thanks for everything."
"No problem," Pariah said. "I'll come by and see you before we leave town, make sure you got settled in and everything."
He gave a slight wave, and then headed off into one of the narrow streets.
Beldora heaved a sigh of relief. "Seriously, thank you for getting him out of that. I was worried. So is that situation resolved, then?"
Dejen replied, "A little, but there is still a problem. The castle has been occupied by...worshipers of Helm." His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said that last phrase. "The original castle residents, at least the few that survived, have moved into town."
"I see," she said grimly. "And by 'Helm', you mean the person we discussed before?"
"Yes and no. I mean, yes, that entity is the one behind this cult, but the intruders, who call themselves the Black Sword, are actually telling the town they are a cult of Helm."
She nodded. "And 'Helm' still has plans?"
"Yes, though we don't know what. We found more duergar in Easthaven and hints about the location of their fortress. This cult seems quite interested in rooting them out. They have a powerful wizard, one of the Arcane Brotherhood, who is helping them. She is searching for the fortress based on the clues we brought."
Beldora leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. "I'm concerned about this cult establishing a foothold here."
"And another thing," he added. "This wizard, Avarice, was reading about Netheril. She seemed quite angry when we realized she was, like it was a secret."
"Really?" Beldora said in concern. She made a thoughtful noise. "There is a legend that a Netherese city crashed here centuries ago, but I've never believed it. It's one of those lost treasure stories that people love to make up. Every square inch of the Sword Coast claims there is a Netherese city buried underneath it."
"The impression I get is that the Hosttower believes this one, and that's why they've sent at least four wizards to investigate."
"Four?"
"Avarice, Vellynne, Dzaan, though he's dead now, and a new one called Nass Lantomir."
Beldora frowned in thought. "I haven't heard of that last one. All right, I'll make my usual inquiries about that. Netherese, duergar, a cult of...Helm. Anything else?"
"Isn't that enough?" he said dryly.
Pariah added, "We also killed a hag who had been preying on fishers in Lac Dinneshere."
"Oh, that's good to hear," Beldora said distantly. "All right, stay on mission. Keep me informed."
"What's going on here?" Pariah asked her. "Why is there a curfew now?"
Beldora made a sour face. "There have been incidents over the last tenday -- vandalism, muggings, that kind of thing. They seem to be particularly directed at people who don't openly worship Auril. The remaining Aurilites have gotten a lot louder, and they had a rally in the market six or seven days ago that looked like it was going to break out in violence until Southwell came in and broke it up."
"And the weather? The gate guard seemed to think it's been worse lately."
Beldora looked up at the stormy sky. "It's hard to tell. Weather's never good here. It might just be stories told by people who are scared, but travelers tell me that the weather gets noticeably worse as you reach Bryn Shander."
"That's what we saw," Dejen said. "It was like a wall of blowing snow surrounding the city."
"Yeah," she sighed. "So let's add Auril's tantrums to that list of current threats." She cocked her head. "You know, I've talked to Copper a little over the last few days and I wonder if it's worth checking out his friend, Macreadus. Copper was helping him develop a device he thought might stop the Rime. A lot of it was over my head, but you might understand the theory better. If it's a real solution, that would bring a lot of relief to the area."
Dejen replied, "I tried talking to him about it before but he was too agitated about the fate of his friend. Then again, we can't really do anything more about the duergar until we find more clues about their location."
"True. Well, I'll leave it up to you."
Pariah interjected, "Speaking of Copper, I had a thought on the trip over. I wonder if the House of the Morninglord could be turned into a shelter." She frowned. "But I guess that wouldn’t be up to Copper. We could go see Mishann's brother and ask him about it. What do you think?"
Beldora raised her eyebrows. "I think that would be very helpful. I thought about that with the House of the Triad, but I couldn't get in to see the speaker."
"We could probably talk to her," Pariah said. "And that's more space. We'll see what we can do."
Beldora reached out to squeeze her arm. "Thank you," she said very sincerely. "That would be a great help to the people here." She straightened up and said, "Well, if that's everything, I'm going to go see that Mere gets settled."
Notes:
The arrows are Arrows of the Dragon from Hamund's Harvesting Handbook. They are +1 arrows that also do 1d8 cold damage. Unlike other magic arrows, they have a chance to keep their enchantment after each use.
Chapter 66: Absent Friends
Summary:
The group hurries to finish their business in Bryn Shander before evening curfew falls.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 10, 1496 (9 days after the Full Moon)
"One hour until curfew," the crier called out as he walked down the road towards the marketplace, ringing his bell. "Evening," he nodded to the group as he passed. "One hour until curfew," he yelled again after he'd passed.
"We should hurry," Zariel said. "I would like to check in at the shrine this evening, but we don't want to get caught on the street after curfew."
Dejen pulled out his magical timepiece. "The crier is several minutes off," he said. "I show it's not even five o'clock."
Pariah chuckled. "Well, they don't run off your clock so I wouldn't expect that argument to hold water with the town guard."
"I suppose so," he mumbled. "And, to be fair, I don't know how accurate this timepiece is. Dawn and dusk do appear to be right around ten a.m. and two p.m. so it's reasonably close, but perhaps I'm the one who's a few minutes off."
"Regardless," Zariel said, "we shouldn't dawdle at the shrine. We'll check in on Copper, get more information about his friend, and get back to the inn well before curfew."
They continued on through the streets as Pariah mused about the news Zariel had brought from the sheriff. He confirmed that there had been growing unrest in the town since Janus's death. He had taken responsibility for the killing, saying he was attempting to arrest the man for the destruction of the other temples. He had left Pariah and her companions out of his story. The single survivor of the incident hadn't said anything useful about the Aurilites and their plans. There had been one attempt to free him that had led to two more dead Aurilites and three more prisoners. Since the town lacked prison facilities, those three and the original prisoner had been banished from Bryn Shander.
Zariel had asked him about the absence of cells and he had told her that there was a small prison attached to the barracks for short-term incarcerations, but a couple of years ago a prisoner had tried to use magic to tunnel out. The undermining caused the building to cave in on itself, burying and killing him. Shortly thereafter, the Everlasting Rime had hit, so rebuilding the prison hadn't been a priority. They occasionally sent short-term prisoners over to Easthaven, but banishment had proven to be an easier solution.
The (former) House of the Morninglord looked as they had left it: the windows blocked by hanging furs and the patchwork door doing its best to hold in the heat. A sign had been nailed to the door reading "Temple Closed Permanently" in hastily scrawled paint. The building radiated a sort of loneliness, though Pariah knew that was probably just her imagination. She had barely known Mishann, and yet she felt a powerful grief looking at the darkened structure.
They hesitated in front of the door. Zariel said, "If this were still a shrine to Amaunator, I would feel free to go in. But I guess this is Copper's home now, so we should knock?"
She was met with shrugs by the others, so she knocked firmly on the door. They waited but there was no answer, and no light came from within.
"He's probably up in his room," Eberic said. "Can't hear us."
"I hope so," Zariel said, worry in her voice. She rapped more loudly. "Copper!" she called out. "It's Zariel. Are you at home?"
They all felt relief when they could hear movement from inside. "Come in," Copper called out.
The main room inside was empty. The ice that had covered the walls and floor was gone, as was the symbol of Amaunator. The stove had been righted and currently burned with the distinct smell of whale oil, though the room was still quite cold. A single lantern burned with a low flame on the wall. The torn curtain that led to the rest of the first floor had been replaced.
Copper looked down on them from atop the stairs. "Come on up," he said morosely. "It's too cold to talk down there."
The group mounted the stairs in single file and followed Copper through the single door on the second story. The room beyond was more spacious than Pariah had expected. It was a cross between a living room and a study, with a sofa, shelves, and a desk and chair. An oil lamp on the desk lit the space, and a stove in the corner kept the room warm. The latter shared a chimney with the one below. An open door led into a bedroom and another closed door hid what was beyond.
There was plenty of space for all of them to enter the room. Copper sat himself in the desk chair and said, "There's tea if you like," as he waved at the kettle on the stove. His brow furrowed and he added, "Though I guess I don't have any spare cups. There are more in the kitchen downstairs, though."
"I think we're fine," Zariel said. "We wanted to come by and see how you are doing. Has the house been attacked? Vandalized? Anything?"
He shook his head. "No. People came by to give their condolences for a few days, but that's stopped. I hear there's been trouble in town but nobody's bothered me."
"I'm glad to hear that. Is there anything we can do? The new doors and windows should arrive in a few days. If we are in town, we will be happy to help you install them."
"Thank you but I can handle that. It would be good to have something to keep me busy. I don't really have anything to do now that the temple is closed. I thought about going back to Macreadus, but-" He grunted bitterly. "I can't see that happening."
Pariah asked, "He was the one working on a solution to the Everlasting Rime?"
He looked up at her. "If you can call it that," he replied sourly. "It was an interesting idea, but it became increasingly clear it wasn't going to work. I kept telling him that, but he didn't listen. He just got more obsessed, working on it all the time. He probably died of starvation since I wasn't there to remind him to eat, the old fool." His voice broke and he started to tear up.
Dejen asked, "What was this device? Did you work on it too?"
The gnome composed himself and wiped his eyes. "He got his hands on this book of old magical technology. Became convinced he could use it to build something to break the Rime. But he didn't really understand it, not that he'd ever admit that. He was just cobbling parts together and nothing worked."
"Old magical technology?" Dejen said, his interest piqued. "What kind of old magical technology?"
"That old empire that used to be here centuries ago. What were they called?"
"Netheril?" Dejen asked.
"Yes, that was it. A book about Netherese artifacts."
The group exchanged glances among each other in a meaningful silence.
"What?" Copper asked in confusion. "What is it?"
"Oh nothing," Dejen said quickly. "We just came across a mention of Netheril recently. Odd coincidence is all."
Coincidence, Pariah thought to herself. Or fate. She had started reading the book on Netheril they'd gotten from Dzaan's possessions, but it was a dense, scholarly text that she found hard to follow. She was poring through it as best she could but wondered if Dejen would get more out of it.
Dejen said, "I know we were going in the wrong direction last time, but we are headed for Termalaine. That's pretty close to your friend's cabin, right? Maybe we could check in on him. Make sure he's eating and so on."
Copper's face lit up. "Could you? I would appreciate that. I mean I might hope the jackass stubs his toe every day for the rest of his life, but that doesn't mean I want anything really bad to happen to him."
"Maybe you could show us again on the map where he is," Dejen said.
"It's the Black Cabin, right?" Bjarnson interjected.
Copper looked surprised. "Well, yes."
"I assumed that when you showed us the map before." To the others he explained, "Don't let the name fool you. Nothing sinister about it. It's just a cabin of black wood built by a ranger of the Far North long before the towns were founded. After he died, the cabin lay empty and it's a known refuge for travelers in the area who need a place to get out of the weather. There was a landslide a few years back that carried away some of the hill underneath it, so it's not very stable. As a result it's fallen into disrepair. I'm surprised anyone is living there."
The gnome replied, "He just wanted a place away from other people so he could work. He didn't really care about the rough conditions."
Zariel put a hand on Copper's shoulder. "We'll head to Termalaine tomorrow, probably spend the night there, and then head to the cabin the morning after. Is there anything else we should know?"
"You should take him some supplies just in case he's run out. I can meet you in the market tomorrow morning and buy the provisions. You just have to run them out to him." He furrowed his brow. "Though there are a few things you might have to pick up in Termalaine. I could give you some gold for that, since he certainly won't reimburse you."
As he stood up, Zariel shook her head. "That won't be necessary. We can afford the supplies on our own."
"Are you sure?" he said uncertainly.
"I'm sure."
He didn't seem convinced, so Pariah added, "You know us adventurers. Either we don't have a copper to our name, or we have more money than we know what to do with. Right now, Tymora's blessed us with good fortune. What do we need to buy in Termalaine?"
"Thank you," he said effusively as he returned to his seat. He tore a blank page out of a diary on his desk and began writing. "It's not much, just some lumber and nails, things like that. And if he doesn't pay you back, please come see me and I'll reimburse you."
He scribbled out a short list. He stood and held the paper out, which Pariah took. He said, "If you can't get them, that's fine. These supplies aren't as important as the things we'll buy tomorrow. And Macreadus won't thank you for it. In fact, he'll be annoyed that you stopped by. He's arrogant, self-righteous, and short-tempered. Just drop the stuff off and leave. Oh, and don't tell him I sent you. No reason to give him the satisfaction."
"Why the lumber?" Pariah asked as she scanned the list.
He said apologetically, "The cabin's seen better days and I'm a bit worried about the floor in the main room. We knew to avoid it when I was there because it's right over the drop-off. I don't expect Macreadus to do anything about it, but he'll have one less excuse if he's got the construction supplies. But it's been like that for months."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully as she looked over the list again. She already knew lumber was scarce in Bryn Shander, but she remembered a forest near Termalaine on the map. "Eberic, we can get lumber in Termalaine, right?"
"Yes," he said.
Bjarnson added, "We should probably go. We don't want to get caught out after curfew."
"Oh, I think we'll be fine," Pariah said dismissively.
"No, he's right," Copper said. "The sheriff takes curfew really seriously. I heard the crier's warning so you should get to wherever you are staying sooner rather than later. If you're caught it's a steep fine if you're lucky, and banishment if you're not."
They were done there anyhow, so they bid him goodnight and headed downstairs. Pariah stopped to study the front door before they headed out, wondering if there was a way to secure it. However the patchwork of lumber scraps was hanging crooked and there would be no way to lock it. The carpenter in Easthaven had estimated the work on the new doors and windows would be done shortly after the New Moon, and that was still a few days off. They'd have to hope the Aurilites would leave this building alone now that they'd desecrated the temple.
The trip back to the Northlook was uneventful. Inside, the dining room was crowded but, after renting their rooms, they found an empty table and settled in for a supper of snowshoe hare stew, potato bread and hot mead. By the time they had finished eating, a full on blizzard had blown in outside, shaking the shutters and doors of the inn. They never heard the crier call the start of curfew, but they wouldn't have been able to hear him over the scream of the wind outside.
"Should we wait for first light to leave tomorrow?" Bjarnson asked. "It's only about two hours by sled to Termalaine and it's always better to travel in the daylight."
"I don't know," Pariah said, leaning in to talk in a low voice. "If the Aurilites are making trouble, we might want to clear out of town as soon as we can before they turn their attention on us."
One table held four people openly wearing the snowflake symbol of Auril worshipers. She thought the cultists were watching them, but it was hard to tell. She might just be being paranoid. If Southwell had kept their name out of the Janus incident, they might be fine, but why take the chance?
She continued, "And do we want to stop in Targos? Check in on Mishann's brother, see how he's doing. Maybe ask him if he's willing to let Copper open up the house as a shelter." She pursed her lips. "Though I guess we should have asked Copper if he was up for that. It might be a lot to handle."
Zariel said, "I would think he'd be fine. He doesn't have to cater to them, just offer them a place out of the cold."
Pariah made an indecisive noise. "It's more complicated than that. Look, I lived on the street most of my life, and most of us were just regular people. But some were assholes, and the assholes tend to flock to shelters. More people to bully and rob there. Me, I stayed away from places like that because they were dangerous. It was safer to find your own corner of the city." She shrugged. "But then that was Baldur's Gate. In a small town like this, it might not be so bad."
"I hadn't thought about that," Zariel admitted. "Getting the speaker to open up the House of the Triad might be better, especially if we could talk Beldora into overseeing that. She seems to understand the locals, and she might be able to keep things under control."
"Maybe," Dejen said. "But I think she has her own priorities. She may not want that kind of responsibility."
Pariah sipped on her mead. Hard to be a spy when you are tied to one place, she thought to herself. "Maybe the speaker would have some ideas about who could be in charge."
Zariel mused, "I wonder how many are living out in the cold here?"
Pariah looked up at the ceiling pensively. "How big is this town?" she wondered to herself. "Hey, Scramsax," she called out to the bartender. "How many people in Bryn Shander?"
"Dunno. A thousand? Maybe fifteen hundred?"
She nodded, and then held up her empty mug. "Another, please."
Turning back to the group she said, "If even one in ten is on the street, then that's..." She faded off. It wasn't a hard calculation, but she'd never been good with numbers. "Uh, a hundred people or so?" Somberly, she added, "But then Mere said most of the poor people just straight up died when the Rime came. So probably less."
That grim pronouncement brought down the mood at the table. Wanting a reason to change the subject, she said, "Hey, Dejen, you want that book on Netheril we got in Easthaven?"
"Certainly!" he said enthusiastically. "You are finished with it?"
"As finished as I'm going to get," she chuckled. "It's over my head. You might get more out of it. But it does seem to be about cities in the north like..." She concentrated, trying to remember the strange names. "...Lathery, Ythryn and...uh...Hlagadeth. That's not it, but something like that. A long name starting with an H."
"Interesting," he said. "And those were here in Icewind Dale?"
"That's part of what's confusing me. There are maps but I can't figure where the places on the maps are today. Plus I guess a lot of the cities could fly so went different places. And things changed, like there was some ocean that was kept unfrozen by magic and when Netheril fell it froze again." She shook her head. "Something like that. Like I said, I can't really follow it."
"I see," he said contemplatively. "Well there may have been some changes in geography, though it's been less than two thousand years since they fell." He shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's not my area of study, and I don't have any references stored in my quill." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Should we find ourselves back in Caer-Dineval, I wonder if Avarice would let me read the books on Netheril she had."
"I doubt it," Pariah scoffed. "She seemed very annoyed I even noticed they were there. They have that library in Easthaven. There might be something there."
"Maybe," Dejen replied in a pessimistic tone. Then he brightened up and said, "Culver might know something. He seemed to have a lot of information about the area."
It took Pariah a moment to remember that Culver was the artifact collector in Caer-Dineval, though from what she'd seen, "artifact" was a generous word. "Junk" might be more appropriate. Still, he had seemed to have an interest in the history of Icewind Dale. "True, and he'll be more cooperative than Avarice." She sighed. "And somehow I'm sure we'll find ourselves back there, one way or another. I don't think you-know-who is done with me." She didn't even try saying Levistus's name, knowing she wouldn’t be able to
"You think he takes that much of an interest in you?" Dejen asked.
She shrugged as Scramsax put another mead on the table and took her empty mug. "Thanks," she said to him. After he walked away, she said to Dejen, "I don't know. I don't know why he approached me that night years ago, but I've always felt like it wasn't random. It was somehow all part of his plan to disrupt..." She caught herself before saying Zariel's name. "...that one devil's plans," she finished. "And I can't help to think that somehow I'm here on purpose, here because he wanted me here."
"I don't think so," Lulu said firmly. "We asked you here. You didn't even want to come. We had to convince you. He's not controlling me or Zariel."
Zariel was glowering into her mug and didn't comment.
Pariah said, "Yeah, I guess," as she took a drink of mead. As she put the cup on the table, she added, "If any immortal tricked me into being here, it was probably Lathander."
"Lathander does not trick mortals," Zariel said, offended.
Pariah put up a hand to forestall her. "I was mostly joking," she said. "Look, I'm not sorry I'm here, and I hope we can find a way to stop all this. I'm just sick of stumbling in the dark. If Lathander or you-know-who or any of them want something, I wish they'd just ask." This was a dangerous subject to discuss with Zariel in front of the others, so she said to Dejen, "The point is, remind me to give you that book before we all turn in tonight. I might want to look at it again when you're done, but I'm just wasting my time now. I'll be better off reading the one on Icewind Dale's history."
That was the only other one of Dzaan's books she had claimed. Dejen had taken the two on magical theory and Dzaan's coded journal. All three read like gibberish to her. She had looked over the journal, hoping her gift of reading would let her decode it, but it had been no help. She could read the words but not the meanings. She wouldn't even know how to start making sense of it. She hoped that Dejen's Harper training gave him some insight into secret code. She also wondered if Beldora or one of her contacts could be of help, but she assumed Dejen had already thought of that.
She emptied her mug. "Speaking of turning in, that weather outside just makes me want to get under the covers. I think I'm going to go to my room now. I'll see you all in the morning."
Notes:
I mentioned before that I wasn't sure what kind of incarceration is available in Bryn Shander. Easthaven, a smaller town, has a block of eight cells. Bryn Shander's penal system has never been detailed, but I already hinted that the one cell in Southwell's office was all they had. So I finally dealt with this discrepancy by adding a reason the prison wouldn't exist anymore.
Pariah's confusion about the Netheril maps reflects my own. I was trying to find the names of northern Netherese cities, but the maps of Netheril at its height just don't match with current maps of Faerûn. I figured out a few details, like the Narrow Sea became The High Ice once the Netherese technology stopped working, but the geography still doesn't match at all.
Chapter 67: The Snowy Road West
Summary:
Pariah and her companions leave Bryn Shander for points west.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 11, 1496 (10 days after the Full Moon)
The wind howled outside the inn all night long, and Pariah was wakened by the sound of hail hammering on the shutters outside her room. By morning, the wind wasn't any better but they headed out into the weather to deal with a few things before leaving town.
Their first stop was to see Speaker Duvessa Shane. She showed little enthusiasm about the idea of opening the House of the Triad as a shelter. It wasn't completely clear who owned the building, for one thing. Certainly the owner wasn't in Bryn Shander. It was probably owned by one of the temples down south, but the Everlasting Rime made it nearly impossible to communicate with anyone outside of Icewind Dale. A lot of the locals had taken people in over the last two years, and the town guard turned a blind eye to squatters in empty buildings as long as they behaved, so very few people were actually sleeping on the streets.
Although the result was disappointing, Pariah wasn't that surprised. If it had been that simple, she suspected Beldora would have found a way to work it out already.
They went with Copper to the market and he haggled with the few vendors who braved the storm. He purchased food, blankets, whale oil, and soap. They also went to Blackiron Blades to pick up a hatchet, ink, candles, and fishing tackle. He also wanted paper but made a sour face when he heard the price. He asked the group to pick some up in Termalaine. There was a small paper mill there that would sell it much more cheaply.
Bjarnson topped up his supply of healing and cooking herbs. Pariah asked the merchants about books but got the puzzled look she usually got when asking about them. They didn't seem any more in demand here in Icewind Dale than anywhere else, which surprised her. She figured the long winter nights would give people more reason to read.
She kept an eye on the crowds as they shopped, looking for Aurilite ambushes. She was surprised that there didn't seem to be fewer people out and about, but realized the town can't let everything stop just because the weather was bad. With everyone more bundled up than usual against the wind that tore through the streets, it was hard to see if anyone was wearing Auril's symbol, and hard to tell if anyone was watching them.
According to Dejen's timepiece, it was after dawn before they were finally ready to leave. Pariah looked at the stormy sky and couldn't see any light penetrating the thick clouds and blowing snow. She hoped the weather would improve significantly after they got away from Bryn Shander. They'd be passing near Targos, but the blizzard there that had apparently been Auril's response to her sacrifice being canceled had stopped several days before.
They went to the kennel to pick up their dog teams and sleds. There was a definite tension in the air, and the dogs all seemed restless and agitated. Maybe they'd calm down once they'd burned off some energy or at least once they got away from the storm. They took the sleds out the south gate along Ten Trail, the road that led back to southern climes. Well, at least it used to. As far as she knew, the mountain passes were still blocked, not that any of them intended to leave the area.
However, they headed south rather than west for a reason: after they got about a quarter mile out of town, the wind subsided. The sky was still overcast, but they could see the dim light from the east illuminating the bright snow before them. Pariah looked over her shoulder to see the wall of blowing snow that surrounded Bryn Shander. She hoped that, like in Targos, Auril's rage would subside in a few days.
They turned the sleds right to follow the edge of the maelstrom until they got to the western road that led to Targos, Termalaine and the other towns around Maer Dualdon, the largest of the three lakes in Icewind Dale.
The road wasn't as wide, flat, or well-marked as the Eastway, but it was still better than the roads around Caer-Dineval and Caer-Konig, so the dogs quickly settled into a steady trot. The terrain was more uneven, and the road wound gently around rocky hills pushing up out of the snow like islands in the ocean. Some scrubby vegetation could be seen braving the wind that had scrubbed the tops of the hills clean, and the occasional stump was the only remnant of the few trees that had long since been harvested for lumber or heat.
Pariah was piloting the front sled as it slipped along from marker to marker, with Bjarnson and Lulu sitting behind her. The lack of much plant life made the terrain boring, and her mind wandered from time to time. She didn't worry too much about that; the dogs kept jogging along even as her thoughts drifted. She only had to occasionally correct their course towards the next brightly-painted wooden tripod that marked the way west.
Although the land was stark, she could see a certain beauty in the endless field of unbroken snow shining in the weak sunlight that found its way over the mountains to them. The wind was mild, though the bitterly cold temperature still tried to find its way into her furs. She could see why someone might want to live here, at least when some petulant goddess wasn't plunging the area into eternal dark winter.
She gently pulled on the reins to direct the dogs to the left, curving into the valley between two hills covered in crowns of rock and snow. She was so distracted it took her a moment to see that there was something ahead. A tree had fallen across the road in front of them. She could see its exposed roots so it clearly hadn't been chopped down. It must have finally succumbed to the terrible winds that sometimes blew through this place, falling as it was ripped from the frozen earth.
Falling across the road.
The road between two steep walls of rock.
Falling in such a way that there was no way forward. Falling in an area that offered no escape to either side.
She pulled on the reins, slowing the dogs as her thoughts finally coalesced. Before she could call out a warning, the snow at the top of the steep hillside to her right exploded and rained down on her as a huge, white-furred spider the size of a horse burst from its hiding place in the snowdrift. She pulled back on the reins calling out, "Whoa!" As the dogs came to a stop, the tree ahead of them slowly sat up with the loud creaking of wood. Then everything was lost as a sudden fog surrounded them, obscuring their sight.
A mass of sticky webbing came out of the opaque mist and enveloped her, binding her arms and trapping her against the frame of the sled. She heard something heavy moving towards them from down the road as she struggled to free herself from the webbing.
Lulu shouted, "There's another spider at the other sled. And Zariel thinks she heard someone chanting a spell, but she's not sure from where. I'm going to go look." With that she flew up and was lost in the fog.
Bjarnson raised a hand that transformed into a bear's paw. He raked it across the webbing, tearing it away enough that Pariah was able to free herself. She could hear something big, bigger than the spider she'd seen, moving with the loud creaking of wood, but she couldn't see anything through the thick mist. She pushed past Bjarnson to get to their packs and snatch up her shield right before the giant spider surged out of the fog. She was shocked by its massive size. Its body was higher than her head, and its legs were spread wider than the length of their sled. She got her shield up just as it bit at her with mandibles that dripped with poison. She felt a phantom ache in her thigh from where a large but still much smaller spider had bitten her on her way to Candlekeep weeks ago.
The tree loomed out of the fog, towering over them as it swung a massive branch down towards Bjarnson. He tried to deflect the blow with his staff, but grunted in pain as the tree hit hard enough to knock him back a step. With a growl of language Pariah didn't understand, he summoned up a ball of flame that slammed into the tree. The dry wood caught fire and the tree started to burn as the flaming sphere slapped back and forth across its bark.
Pariah didn't know what was happening in the other sled, but was confident Zariel, Eberic and Dejen could hold off the other spider. She was doing what she could against this spider, but it kept darting back into the fog and then surging forward to attack. She wanted to move around herself, hoping to confuse it, but they were surrounded by deep snow and she didn't want to leave the secure footing of the sled. She managed to avoid or block its attacks and finally landed a slash across its body, the frozen edge of her sword leaving a gash that didn’t bleed.
Lulu yelled from somewhere in the fog, "There's a woman in the rocks on the hill behind us. She's...look out!"
Pariah heard the roar of falling hail to her right, where the other sled would be, some of the hailstones audibly bouncing off metal armor. Bjarnson continued to duel with the tree and it was hard to tell who was winning. He seemed to be weakening, but the tree was burning. Pariah was still engaged with the giant spider in front of her so wasn't able to help him. She couldn't land a second hit on the massive beast, but she hadn't taken any damage herself, nor had the creature tried to engulf her in webs again.
"Don't let it get away," Eberic shouted from the fog.
"I see her," Dejen called out. "Let the spider go. Go after the spellcaster."
The mist suddenly dissipated, blown away by the wind until the air was clear. The spider hesitated, seeming confused by the disappearance of the fog, and then it turned and bolted. Seeing her chance as it turned away, Pariah slashed at its legs, managing to sever one clean through. On seven legs, it scrambled up the steep hillside.
The tree was also retreating, now fully engulfed in flames. It pitched sideways and collapsed into the snow, black smoke rising into the sky. The sled dogs shied away from the fire, pulled the sled a few feet, but then settled down. Pariah grabbed for her bow, nocked an arrow, and let it fly as the giant spider was about to clear the ridge. The shot sunk deep into its abdomen. The giant spider teetered on the edge of the rocks, and then fell backwards and slid down the slope to land in a heap near the sled.
Pariah looked behind to see that Zariel was struggling through the snow, trying to reach the hill behind them. Dejen was still on the sled, but peering in the same direction with his crossbow at the ready. Eberic was firing arrows up the hill in a different direction towards something she couldn't see.
Lulu flew down to Zariel and said something Pariah couldn't hear. Zariel looked again towards the hill, and then turned away to start back towards the sleds.
Pariah, her bow still at the ready, scanned the hilltops but nothing stirred. She said to Bjarnson, "So, you have walking trees and giant spiders here?"
He grunted. "Giant spiders, yes, but not in this area. They are native to the Spine of the World, and this is far out of their territory. As for the tree, some who worship nature can awaken the minds of plants and animals, giving them intelligence and speech, and even allowing trees to walk."
"Awaken? You mean like what Dejen did to his magic quill?"
The red-headed man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You know, I hadn't put those two things together. It may be that he uses something similar, awakening intelligence in objects the way some do so in living things."
The second sled, carrying the other members of their group, pulled up alongside them and stopped. Pariah said to Bjarnson, "So you think the woman who was casting spells was a nature priest like you?"
"Well, not like me exactly. Many find magic in natural energies, true, but my guess is she is one of the frost druids. Nature worshipers have varying opinions on the effect of human industry on the environment. The frost druids feel that civilization is an atrocity to be destroyed."
"So why attack us?" Zariel asked.
He shrugged. "Some attack any traveler at all. Maybe they didn't like that the dogs are in harnesses, or that some of us wear metal armor."
"No," Eberic shook his head. "This was a planned ambush, not a spontaneous attack."
"True," Bjarnson admitted.
Pariah suddenly exclaimed, "The owl!" When that got her confused looks from the others, she said, "When we arrived at Bryn Shander. I saw an owl. It seemed to be watching us. Could it have been sent by the frost druids to spy on us?"
"Maybe," he said. "It might have even been one of them. Did anyone see if this one turned into an owl?"
"She turned into a white fox," Lulu said. "And then she just sort of faded into the snow. Not like invisibility but just like...I don't know, I just couldn't see her. And she didn't leave any tracks."
Bjarnson nodded. "Yes, that is a common ability among the druids, to be able to hide their travel."
Zariel said, "So they are loyal to Auril?"
"No," he said tentatively. "I mean, yes and no would be a better answer. The frost druids are not an organization like a militia. Each takes their own path and they almost never work together. Some see Auril as a natural force here to erase the intrusion of civilization. Others see her as an abomination that goes against the natural order. Many don't care either way, seeing the schemes of the gods as something that is above the concern of regular people."
"So we don't know why she ambushed us," Zariel concluded.
Bjarnson shrugged in return.
Eberic was still watching the hills around them, his shortbow at the ready. "We should go before she comes back."
"I don't think she will," Bjarnson said. "We've killed her allies. If she wanted a direct confrontation, she wouldn't have run. And there's no reason to let that meat go to waste." He nodded at the corpse of the massive, white-furred spider. "Did the other one get away?"
"No," Eberic said. "The body's at the top of the hill there." He pointed, but the ridge blocked their view.
Dejen said in horror, "People eat spider meat?"
"Yes, though it's not in as much demand as something like moose or knucklehead. But there are also the silk and venom glands. Those should fetch a price from a tailor and an alchemist respectively. Eberic, Ana Singlemoon is still in Termalaine, right?"
"Yes," the dwarf said.
"She'll buy the silk. Would anyone buy the poison?"
"Nobody legitimate," Eberic grunted. "But Torg's would buy it next time they swing through Termalaine. They buy nearly anything."
"Not from us, I'll bet," Pariah said. "Or at least not for a fair price."
"True," he mused. "Marrit could go. Torrga isn't going to know she's associated with us."
Marrit, Pariah remembered, was Eberic's wife.
Zariel said, "I feel we have enough money. We don't need to scavenge for silvers. We should go."
Bjarnson shook his head. "It's not about money. It's about waste. Leaving a carcass behind is disrespectful to nature. I'm not happy killing something like this, even in self defense, but to leave it to rot is worse."
"That's fair," she admitted. "Very well. Some of us should keep watch while you work, though."
Bjarnson, Dejen and Pariah handled the harvesting. Bjarnson had the knowledge, Pariah the deft hands, and Dejen was curious about the process and the anatomy of these massive arachnids. Zariel and Eberic kept watch, and Lulu flew a patrol around the area while invisible. They didn't want to dawdle since the days were so short so they hurried. Ideally they'd have taken the intact carcasses to town, but they were too large to fit on the sleds, so they cut up what they could.
The meat was pale and rubbery; it reminded Pariah of crab meat. Removing the silk glands from the rear of the abdomens was easy. The poison glands were more difficult, mostly because of the danger of accidentally puncturing one and drenching her hands with venom. She took perverse pleasure in telling them how she had milked the poison from a pit fiend's corpse once, and they listened with wide eyes. She wondered why that alchemist had asked for the venom itself rather than the glands, but she wasn't likely to ever have the chance to ask him.
Bjarnson winced and grunted while they worked. He waved off Pariah's concerns at first, but finally admitted that he had gotten hurt pretty badly during his battle with the tree. He was fine now due to that ointment they had gotten off the goblins during their first days together, but he was looking forward to taking a rest in Termalaine.
In the end, there was about a man's weight of meat to load onto the rear sled. Bjarnson gave chunks to the dogs before they loaded it up, and they gobbled it down enthusiastically. Well, Pariah figured, even if people wouldn't eat it, there were plenty of dogs to be fed.
Nothing stirred around them while they worked, though the wind was starting to pick up and the clouds were rolling in. When they had packaged meat from creatures like the crag cats, they had used the hides to wrap it. The chitin of the spiders couldn't provide the same packaging. The meaty legs, each several feet long, could be loaded as is but they had to use their blankets to wrap the meat taken from the abdomens. They finished securing the spider meat and then got the dogs moving.
It was only about twenty minutes before they came to a road branching off to the right. A wooden sign pointing down the path was covered in snow, but Pariah could read "Termalaine" and "Lonelywood" through the white powder. Ahead of them, the road led to Targos, a lakeside town encircled by a wooden wall that led past the shore and into the lake.
She turned the sled onto the side road, since they had decided against stopping at Targos to talk to Jakob. It wasn't clear that the town authorities had figured out that Eberic was the one who had freed their last sacrifice, but the group saw no reason to take the chance.
The road led northeast, following the shore of Maer Dualdon. The lake was frozen over at this end but, after several miles, Pariah was surprised to see open water that led right up to the shore. She couldn't see far enough past the blowing snow to tell if there were fishing boats on the lake, though she assumed there were. The demand for food never stopped, and fish was the main source of protein in all of the towns.
The sun had moved behind the mountains to the southwest, marking the time as around one in the afternoon, when Pariah first spotted the town of Termalaine ahead. She had been tensely watching for another ambush, and now she relaxed as she slowed down to wave Eberic ahead. This was his home, so he might as well lead them in.
Notes:
I tend to assume that the sled dogs are very, very disciplined. The group is battling glowing undead or giant furry spiders, and the dogs are just hanging out waiting for it to be over. It might be more appropriate for them to run away, but that would complicate combat a lot, so I don't do that. They are generally considered to be off limits as targets, though there was some collateral damage in the fight against the coldlight walker a while back.
Chapter 68: Homesick
Summary:
The party arrives in Termalaine, headed for Eberic's home.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 11, 1496 (10 days after the Full Moon)
Eberic's sled led the way down the road as they neared Termalaine. Though the wind was strong, coming from behind and to the left, and the air was bitter cold, the lake was not frozen here. Boats were docked at the piers and, for the first time Pariah had seen since arriving in Icewind Dale, they were not frozen in.
The buildings were brightly painted and festive under their shawls of snow. A sign at the edge of town depicted a fish rising against a blue background, its mouth open to swallow a pink, oval gem. Across the top was painted "Welcome to Termalaine" in a cheery script. There were no guards to stop them, so the sleds continued down the snow-packed road at a walk. A sign told them that the kennels were to the right, but Eberic continued down the main road and Pariah followed.
Many of the buildings were decorated with carvings ranging from simple braidwork to fanciful depictions of wizards and tigers and smiling djinn. The style of the decorations reminded Pariah of some of the Calishite art that Farima had owned. Rubble walls had been built on the west side of many properties as a windbreak. Gray smoke rose from most of the chimneys, suggesting that Termalaine hadn't seen the same drop in population as the other towns. There were also a number of wooden structures, since the thick woods to the north meant the town hadn't had to scavenge for wood to burn like many other places in Ten-Towns.
The sleds turned to the right onto another wide road and past house after house. There were a few people in the streets going about their business, anonymous bundles of furs like people everywhere in Icewind Dale. Most of them ignored the sleds passing while others gave them a cursory glance. Pariah looked for the snowflake symbol of Auril worshipers, but she couldn't see anything past their furs.
They took a couple more turns until they were headed back south and then Eberic brought his sled to a stop in front of a row of houses. He dismounted and said, "We'll drop our things before taking the dogs to the kennel. You can all stay here tonight and then we'll decide what our plans are in the morning."
Most of the houses that lined the road were made of wood, but the residence he nodded towards was built of unpainted gray brick. It was a simple utilitarian design with a steeply pitched roof of red slate. Houses were separated by little more than narrow alleys and there wasn't much of a yard between the road and the two steps leading up to the wooden front door. With his pack in one hand, Eberic mounted the steps, opened the door and called out, "Marrit, I'm home!" as he headed inside.
The others also grabbed their backpacks, leaving the spider meat and some of the more unwieldy supplies like the tents behind for the moment. They followed him inside to find themselves at one end of an L-shaped living room. The floor here was bare brick, and a row of hooks on the wall held a coat of light gray fur, beneath which was a pair of sturdy boots. Past this entry area the floor was covered by an assortment of drab, brown rugs. On the inside corner of the L, a large fireplace was burning merrily.
A pine bench with mismatched seat cushions faced to their left where the room continued around the bend. Standing in front of the couch, Eberic was embracing a dwarven woman with wavy black hair that ran to her waist. She was dressed in a beige shirt, fur vest, dark brown pants and thick wool socks. Pariah could see enough of her face to recognize her from the ivory curio Eberic had showed her once.
The group shed their furs and boots, since they weren't needed in the warm interior of the house, and stacked their packs in the entry. They stood there awkwardly as the two dwarves continued to hold each other wordlessly. Finally the woman pulled away, gave Eberic a peck on the lips, and then said, "Now get those boots off. You're tracking in the snow."
He grumbled as he pulled away from her, but he had a smile on his face. The woman noticed the visitors for the first time and said cheerfully, "Oh, are these the people you've been writing to me about?"
Eberic had started walking towards the entry way. "Yeah, this is-" he began.
"Oh, no, let me guess." The dwarven woman approached them with a warm smile. "Start with the easy ones: Lulu and Pariah. So you must be Zariel and that just leaves Bjarnson and Dejen?"
She had gestured towards each of them with ink-stained fingers, getting all of their names right.
"That's correct," Zariel said. "How did you know?"
"He's written me a few letters while he's been gone. Told me a little about all of you and your adventures."
Eberic was leaning back against the wall of the entryway to take off his boots. "Well, go on in," he said gruffly, waving towards the rest of the room. "She probably has tea and mead."
"I do," Marrit confirmed. "And after you've caught your breath, we can either have a cold lunch here or head to the Eastside. Someone brought in a moose recently and they've been roasting it all morning."
The group move further into the house. Around the corner was more seating, including two rocking chairs facing the fire. An open doorway past the fireplace led into the kitchen. The walls were adorned with many art pieces similar to the scrimshaw image Eberic carried in his pocket. They were bones and tusks with intricate designs carved into them, highlighted with fine lines of black ink. There were designs of ships and animals and several with the face of their son. Most of them retained the natural shape of the bone, but on the far wall were four pieces that had been carved into triangles, each showing a scene of dwarven life: mining, smithing, fighting and family.
Marrit sent Eberic into the kitchen to fetch drinks and then she settled into one of the rocking chairs as the others took their seats around the room. "So, how was your trip?"
There was a moment of awkward silence as they all tried to think of what to say. Pariah wasn't sure if Eberic had been downplaying the danger of his adventures or not. Dejen finally said, "Well, we were ambushed by a couple of giant spiders."
"Oh my," Marrit replied.
"And a tree," Bjarnson added.
"A tree?" the woman asked in a confused tone.
"Yes. Some of the frost druids can awaken plants, giving them intelligence and mobility."
"Oh my," she said again. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, we're fine," he said with a dismissive wave. "A little banged up, but nothing serious."
Pariah realized that, although she hadn't been hurt in the battle, Bjarnson had taken a couple of bad blows. They had been in a hurry so hadn't discussed how the others in the group had fared. All she knew is they had killed their spider as well, and had apparently been subject to a magical hail storm, but she had no idea how wounded they were.
"Eberic," Marrit called over her shoulder. "Were you hurt in that fight?"
"I'm fine," his voice came from the kitchen.
She got up and hurried into the other room. The group could hear the two of them in an intense but whispered conversation. He finally said firmly, "Stop fussing over me! I'm fine."
"Just let me see."
"Later," he insisted. "Right now I just want to rest."
She huffed and then said, "Fine, but get in there and sit down. I'll finish getting the drinks."
He grumbled wordlessly and came out of the kitchen to plop down in the other rocking chair. It wasn't long before Marrit came out, carrying a tray full of mugs.
Bjarnson stood and said, "Let me-"
"No, sit down," she cut him off politely. She passed among them and they each took a mug of either tea or mead; Pariah chose the latter. It was room temperature rather than served hot as was the custom in the area.
"So what's been happening while I was gone," Eberic asked as he also took a mug of mead.
"There was a little trouble at the mine a couple of weeks ago," she said. "A group of kobolds snuck in, chased off the miners, and claimed the mine for their own. The speaker sent the militia in. There was a standoff for a couple of days. The kobolds wanted to be left alone, and the commander figured he could just wait them out rather than risk his soldiers. He was right; the kobolds surrendered. They were cold and starving, like so many people are, and they really just wanted jobs and homes. Oarus was skeptical at first but decided to give them a chance. From what I hear, they've turned out to be good little workers. The miners gave them the business at first, but that's died down." She chuckled. "I saw Marta dressing down a couple of the miners about it the other day. Watching this wisp of a girl lecturing a couple of burly men about basic courtesy, and them standing there with their heads hung so low their chins were nearly on the ground, was just delightful."
She had finished serving, taking a cup of tea for herself before settling into the other rocking chair. "So the mine's back in operation. Oh and Zun Seawolf -- did you know him?"
Eberic made a non-committal grunt that could have meant anything.
She continued, "Well, he fell down the new shaft. Broke his neck. That was before the kobold trouble mind you. Nele's been wearing her widow's weeds and has hardly been out of the house, but Matteus Mun has been over to her house at least three times to 'comfort her'. I know he's been looking for a wife for a while now, but her husband's barely cold in his grave."
She nattered on about town gossip while they sipped at their drinks. Eberic nodded and grunted along, occasionally asking a question but mostly just listening to her talk. He didn't actually smile, but he had a look of relaxed contentment as her voice washed over him.
Eventually, Marrit said, "And here I am, boring our visitors with all this local talk. Why don't you all tell me about yourselves?"
"Let's do that later," Eberic said as he climbed to his feet. "We left the dogs outside. We should get them to the kennel."
"You sit back down," Marrit said firmly. "You're injured. Who in this group isn't hurt?"
Pariah put up her hand, and she was surprised to see that Lulu was the only other one who did the same.
Zariel said, "My injuries are minor and-"
"Nonsense!" Marrit said. "Pariah and Lulu and I can take the sleds to the kennels. You all stay and rest. We'll swing by the Eastside to get a slab of moose to bring home for lunch."
Bjarnson admitted, "I wanted to look at everyone's injuries anyhow."
Eberic said, "I could get them settled in the spare room."
"Oh, they are sleeping here tonight?" Marrit asked uncertainly.
"Well, yes," he said, confused by her response. "I assumed so."
"You realize it's the 11th, right?"
Understanding shone on his face. "Blast, is it?"
"What's wrong with the 11th?" Dejen asked.
Marrit explained, "Three times a month, on the 1st, the 11th and the 21st, Termalaine sacrifices a night of warmth to Auril. As long as her aurora is in the sky tonight, all fires are prohibited, even torches and lamps. Town visitors are expected to follow the same rules. You might actually be more comfortable making camp in the forest where you can have a fire."
"I'm sleeping here tonight," Eberic said emphatically.
"I don't care either way," said Pariah. She didn't relish a night without heat, but she was the one best set up to bear it.
"Is it dangerous to sleep in such cold without a fire?" Zariel asked.
Bjarnson answered, "Not as long as you have plenty of blankets and warm clothes. And inside, we are protected from the wind, which is a bigger problem than the temperature. I think we should sleep here."
A general shrug went around the room, so that seemed to be settled.
Eberic added, "And you might want to run by the Blue Clam before dropping off the sleds. We have a load of meat from those spiders, too much to carry on your back. They can sell it and claim it's crab if they think people'll be squeamish."
While Marrit put on her cold weather clothing, the others carried their packs into the spare room. Pariah took a glance inside. Tapestries of landscapes hung on the brick walls, probably as much for insulation as for decoration. A wide, wood-framed bed would take at least two of them. The others would have to sleep on the thick furs that covered the floor.
She joined Marrit in the entry to put on her own coat. Eberic came out to give his wife a kiss goodbye. "Be careful," he said to her.
"I'm just going to the inn and the kennel," she laughed. "I'm not gallivanting across the wilderness fighting monsters."
"Be careful anyhow," he said, and kissed her again.
They headed out. The dogs were waiting patiently for them. Some had laid down but most were sitting up alertly. The sleds hadn't moved from where they had been left. Pariah motioned to the forward one and said, "Lead the way." She and Lulu headed for the rear one.
"I like her," Lulu whispered as the sleds started moving.
"So do I," Pariah grinned back.
Marrit led them down the street and turned right on a broad avenue that looked to be the main street. A couple of blocks to their left was the lake shore and a collection of piers of varying sizes. The road itself was lined with trees that had probably been lush and picturesque once, but were now pale and sickly looking like most of the trees in Icewind Dale. The buildings seemed to be mostly large houses built in a variety of styles, but all designed with an artistic flair. In addition to the carvings they had seen before, Pariah started to notice smaller details like scrimshaw doorknockers and wind chimes.
They passed what seemed to be a large house on the right, which had a blue flag whipping in the wind. The flag displayed the same fish-eating-a-gem heraldry as the sign at the edge of town, and any doubt about the purpose of the building was eliminated by the sign above the door that said, "Termalaine Town Hall". A smaller sign hung from that, reading "Speaker Oarus Masthew".
The town wasn't large so it took only a couple of minutes to reach the far end. There, next to a couple of short piers, was a broad one-story building built of brick and timber and topped by a roof of blue tile with several chimneys. A sign bolted to the timbers identified it as the Blue Clam Tavern. A few blobs of blue paint below it made a vain effort to depict the aforementioned clam, though Pariah wouldn't have guessed that's what it was if she hadn't been able to read.
Marrit guided her sled into the alley beside the building and stopped; Pariah pulled up next to her. "Well, here we are," Marrit said cheerfully as she dismounted her sled. She looked over the spider legs and blanket-wrapped bundles. "I suppose Vernon will have to come out here to inspect the meat. Let's go in and see what he is willing to pay."
"What if he doesn't want it?" Pariah asked as she followed Marrit towards the tavern door.
"He'll probably take it regardless, but if they recently bought a good fishing or hunting haul, then he won't pay much. That's why I took us here instead of the Eastside, since they just got a moose. In that case, you either take the loss, try your luck at the kennel but they will probably offer less than the tavern, or you go stand in the marketplace for a couple of days selling directly to the townsfolk. But I imagine that's not something a band of hardy adventurers wants to do."
Pariah laughed. "I don't remember anything like that from the story books. Grak the Barbarian haggled bravely as he sold his looted fruits and vegetables to the old man in the market."
Marrit chuckled politely in return as she opened to door and entered the tavern.
Three massive fireplaces dominated the room, forming a line down the middle. The farthest was in the kitchen, which was open to the rest of the room. Benches surrounded the other two, and a handful of customers sat with their feet up on the brick hearth, sipping from their mugs and chatting. A roar of greeting went up as they called out to Marrit. The walls were decorated with works of scrimshaw.
Marrit returned the greetings as she made her way to the rear of the tavern, where a half-orc leaned on the bar. He had ash gray skin, receding black hair tied in a short ponytail, and small yellow tusks jutting up from his heavy lower jaw. "Marrit," he said with a toothy grin. "I was going to come see you in the next day or two." He nodded towards a blank spot on the wall. "That fox and rabbit piece sold so I owe you some money."
"That's wonderful, Vernon," she replied.
"You did these?" Pariah asked.
"Some of them," Marrit said. "There are a number of us scrimshanders in Termalaine, and more in the rest of Ten-Towns."
She pointed out a few and Pariah examined them with interest. "And the ones in your house?"
"Most of those are mine, but there are a few from friends."
While Pariah continued to look over the artwork, Marrit said to Vernon, "I actually came by to see if you are interested in buying some meat. This is Pariah and Lulu, friends of Eberic. They had a successful hunt."
"Welcome to Termalaine," he said to the newcomers. To Lulu he added in a friendly tone, "You seem far from home."
"A little, but I like to travel," she said.
"You picked an interesting place and time to travel," he chuckled.
"Well, I serve Lathander, and he wants to know why the sun is gone."
Vernon was taken aback a bit by her response. "I suppose it's nice that the gods are watching," he said in a neutral tone. He asked Marrit, "What kind of meat are we talking about?"
"Come and see," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
"Well, well, well, very mysterious. All right, let's go."
He grabbed a fur cloak and followed them out the door to the sleds. When he saw the spider legs he stopped. "Oh, I see. You thought I'd be squeamish about spiders?"
"I wasn't sure," she said. "Plus we didn't know how your customers would react."
"Bah," he said with a dismissive wave. "When I lived in the mountains, we ate spider meat all the time. Got a couple of good recipes for it. And if they don't like it, there's always fish stew." He sighed. "There's always fish stew."
He and Marrit haggled good naturedly for a bit; Pariah stayed out of it since they seemed to be friends. They settled on eight and a half dragons for the meat, and he owed her five and a bit for the sale price of her scrimshaw minus his commission. Pariah and Marrit helped him carry the meat around back, where he stored it in a wooden larder secured with a padlock. The natural cold would keep the meat fresh for a while.
With that done, Marrit led the way back to the east towards the kennels.
Notes:
The story about the kobolds in the mine is the quest assigned to the town. I didn't want the party to do it since they are transitioning into Chapter 2, so I added it as background. I also made it just a simple situation of the kobolds taking over the mine, and took out the other aspects of the quest.
I tweaked on the sacrifice of warmth. The book says it's supposed to be from dusk until dawn, and that was what I had originally planned. However that's 20 hours and my harsher rules on surviving cold would mean the entire town dies in one night. I changed it from midnight to 6 am, which is short enough to be severe but not long enough for anyone to die.
Chapter 69: A Drab Day of Errands
Summary:
Pariah, Marrit and Lulu run a few errands in Termalaine.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 11, 1496 (10 days after the Full Moon)
Marrit led Pariah to the other side of Termalaine, near where they had entered. In a large open span of tundra on the edge of town, shoulder-high fences of weathered pine surrounded two corrals. In one, a couple of dozen dogs played in the snow. Three small buildings with low entrances gave the dogs shelter from the storms, and there might have been more dogs in there. This looked like a dedicated dog kennel rather than the converted stable in Bryn Shander.
It was the other corral that drew Pariah's attention, though. Rather than dogs or horses, it was full of enormous birds that stood higher than a tall man. They each had a thick coat of grayish-white feathers with long shaggy tail feathers out back. They stood on powerful legs and had long talons at the ends of their toes. Their beaks were massive wedges shaped like the head of an axe. Each was in a separate stall and a figured cloaked in furs was removing a saddle from one of them.
"What're those?" Pariah called over to Marrit as she dismounted to open the gate to the kennel.
The dwarven woman glanced over at the birds and said, "Axe beaks. They're strong and fast, but a little temperamental for my taste. Still, I hear that once you get used to them, they can be easier to care for than teams of dogs. And those wide feet let them run across the snow faster than a team of dogs."
"You can ride them?" Pariah asked, nodding towards the saddle.
"Yes, though they are more often used as pack animals."
Lulu started to fly over towards the axe beaks and Marrit called after her, "Don't get too close, Lulu. They bite sometimes, and I expect one of them could gobble you up."
The little angel paused but then kept going in that direction. Pariah was worried for her but reminded herself that, if the worst happened, Lulu couldn't technically die in this plane. Then again, being eaten by a giant bird probably wasn't a pleasant experience even if you survived.
Pariah guided her dog team through the gate after Marrit and then closed it behind them. This was a transition area between the main kennel and the outside, so that none of the dogs escaped when the gate opened. By the time they got their sleds through the inner gate, a bundled up figure had come out of the main building to meet with them. His hood was pulled low and a scarf was tight across his mouth, leaving just a slit for his brown eyes. He was accompanied by a much smaller figure: a child or a halfling.
"Hello," he called out as he neared, his breath steaming through his wool scarf. "Let's see...twenty-four dogs?"
"That's right," Pariah said, her attention still on Lulu and the axe beaks. Lulu was keeping her distance. The cloaked figure attending to the birds had stopped his work and was staring at her. One of the axe beaks let out a sharp squawk that was something between a goose honk and the roar of a mountain cat. "Probably just one night," Pariah said.
"That'll be two and four," he said. "Smul, get the dogs unharnessed."
"Yes, sir," the small figure said in a high raspy voice. Pariah caught a glimpse of a scaly snout and realized this wasn't a child or a halfling; it was a kobold.
Marrit had noticed the same thing. "Is this one of the ones from the mine?"
The man looked down at the kobold and his eyes narrowed. "Yup. He didn't want to dig in the mine, said he was good with animals so I figured I'd give him a try." Grudgingly he added, "He's worked out okay so far."
The kobold was unhooking the dogs, scratching behind their ears and cooing at them in his own language. The dogs sniffed at him and didn't seem put off by his presence. Meanwhile, the other dogs in the kennel had gathered nearby, keeping their distance but sniffing the air and barking greetings to the newcomers.
Pariah had slipped off a glove to reach into her pouch. She handed over two gold and four silver coins. "Do me a favor and look over the sleds. We had a fight on our way out and I don't think any damage was done, but I'd feel better knowing they're safe before we head out tomorrow."
"Sure thing," he said as he took the coins.
As the dogs started the process of getting to know each other, Marrit and Pariah exited the corral onto the snowy roads of Termalaine.
The wind started to pick up as they walked north along the edge of town. Only a few scattered buildings were to their right. These buildings were more functional in design, so Pariah guessed they were businesses of some sort rather than houses. None of them were marked but Pariah recognized the distinctive smell of a tannery hanging in the air.
It took them only a few minutes to reach a collection of houses next to a wide road that led left to right before curving into the forest. They could see the edge of the forest here, a dense collection of sickly pines and cedars. "Isn't there a lot of logging here?" Pariah asked.
"Oh, yes," Marrit answered, a little out of breath from the walk. "It's one of our main industries, next to the mine of course."
"Huh," Pariah said thoughtfully. "I'm just surprised to see so many standing trees here. The forest by Easthaven is mostly cut down as far as you can see."
"Town charter prohibits cutting within a half mile of town to preserve the scenery. The picturesque nature of the town used to bring in a lot of visitors; not so much since the Rime, of course."
"Oh," Pariah nodded. "That makes sense." Despite the fact the trees were pale and spindly from lack of sunlight, she admitted that it was a better view than a field of stumps.
Marrit led her to a small cluster of four wooden cottages with brown shingled roofs. A sign above the door of one read, "The Eastside". Below that was written, "Rooms. Meals. Bar."
The dwarven woman entered the door, which opened into a large common area with a roaring brick hearth in the corner. Curved rafters secured to a roof beam gave the room an A shape. Simple wooden chairs and benches were arranged to face the fire. The walls were decorated with paintings, tapestries and scrimshaw. A stocky, gray-haired human man was the only occupant. He dozed in a chair, cradling a simple cane in one elbow, and didn't stir as they entered. The savory smell of roasting meat filled the air.
Pariah was confused. This wasn't like any inn or tavern she'd seen before. She was afraid they'd simply barged into the old man's home, but Marrit confidently strode towards the other side of the room. Open doorways led left and right to the other cottages, each a single open room with similar architecture. Apparently these four houses had been merged into a single structure that was the inn. A spiral brick stairway led down into a cellar.
In the room to the left, a long bar stretched along the far wall. A half-dozen stools were scattered in front of it. There were two tables and a few chairs. One table had a raised edge, and Pariah knew that meant it was meant for dice games rather than eating. At the other sat a human man with a wide-brimmed hat and spectacles and a white dragonborn in leather armor who had a mace at his hip. They were leaning over a nine men's morris board and didn't look up at the newcomers.
Unlike the wooden floors in the other two rooms, the room to the right had a floor of red brick. The brick was wet, presumably because someone had recently used the mop and bucket in the corner. A long wooden table with benches on each side stretched nearly from one wall to the other. The decoration scheme here was designed around trophies. Mounted on the wall were knucklehead and other fish, the heads of deer and fox, and a massive, stuffed polar bear stood in the corner in a threatening pose.
A woman's singing voice came from the right, and Marrit headed in that direction. Pariah could just make out the words of the somber tune the woman sang.
Ahead of winter's wind she came
The lovely woman with no name;
Draped in a fur-lined cloak of red,
To the icy lake she fled;
The wind pursued her all the same
As sure as night she's dead.
At the far end of the room, past the table, a doorway led into the fourth cottage, which had been converted to a kitchen. A willowy human girl with long, blonde hair was deftly chopping nuts on a stone counter next to a pile of kneaded dough. She wore an apron with a faded flower design over an outfit of gray wool. From a silver chain around her neck dangled a brown ring with an ivory cameo of two white ermine curled together in a circle.
Slabs of meat were slow roasting over a fire in the back. A cauldron bubbled over a separate flame, and the smell of baking bread was also just detectable under the scent of the cooking meat.
The girl, who looked about sixteen years old, looked up and gave the newcomers a bright smile. "Good afternoon, Marrit. Here for lunch?"
"Afternoon, Marta. Yes and no," the dwarven woman replied, nodding towards the roasting meat. "I'm looking to take a slab of that moose home, enough for six."
The girl glanced over and said, "That batch isn't ready to eat yet, but I have some from earlier." She sighed and said, "I'm trying to get it all cooked before midnight but it's going to be tight. I'm having to use higher heat to get it done in time, so it's a little blue in the middle. You might want to finish it off over your own fire."
"Understood," Marrit nodded. "Bad day to get such a big kill."
It took Pariah a moment to remember that all the fires had to be doused at midnight as a sacrifice to Auril, hence the hurry to get everything cooked in time.
Marta brushed her hands together and then headed over to another counter. "Would you like some bread with that? Fresh loaves coming out of the oven in a moment. New recipe that combines sweet potatoes with walnut meal"
"Sure," Marrit said. "That'd be nice."
The girl cut off a generous hunk from a roast that was currently resting on another counter. She inspected it critically and carved off some of the less cooked sections before wrapping the better pieces in brown paper. Then she took three loaves of bread out of the oven, wrapping up one for Marrit.
While she worked, Marrit asked, "How's your father doing?"
Marta gave her a sad look. "About the same," she said.
The dwarven woman nodded with a sympathetic noise. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No, no, we're fine," the girl replied with a tired smile.
"Oh, where are my manners?" Marrit said suddenly. "Marta, this is Pariah, a friend of Eberic's. And this is..." She looked around in confusion. "Where has she gone?"
Pariah looked around to realize Lulu wasn't there. "Probably exploring," she said. "Good to meet you," she nodded to Marta, who nodded back. "If you see a little angel flying around, that's Lulu."
Marta gave her a confused expression, unsure if she was kidding or not.
Pariah continued, "That song you were singing, was that about the White Lady?"
The girl looked puzzled again, and then understanding dawned. "Oh, the ghost of Lac Dinneshere? No, this is about a woman who stopped by our inn about fifty years ago when my grandparents ran this place. She was traveling to Lonelywood and stopped for the night, but she was alone and frightened of something. My grandparents tried to comfort her and said she was safe here. She appreciated their hospitality and compassion, and gave them this ring as payment." She touched the ring hanging around her neck.
"A terrible storm blew in and the wind battered the inn. Everyone sought shelter in the rooms in the cellar. Suddenly, the main door was blown open, torn off its hinges by a massive gale. The wind came tearing down the stairs into the cellar and began to toss the woman around like a doll. My grandparents intervened, trying to save her. They were knocked unconscious by the buffeting wind and when they woke up, the wind was gone and the woman had disappeared. Nobody ever saw her again, and nobody knew who she was or where she came from."
"Was Auril behind it?" Pariah asked. It seemed like a natural assumption considering the attack was accompanied by a winter storm.
The woman cocked her head as she thought about it. "I don't think so. Auril hadn't taken much of an interest in Icewind Dale back then. Nobody had any idea what the woman was fleeing from, but it appeared to leave when she did."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully as a wave of fatigue washed over her. The day was catching up with her. "I'd love to hear more about that story if you're willing, but not right now I think. Maybe we'll stop by tomorrow on our way out of town if you'd be willing to talk more about it." She was thinking that Lythienne would be interested in a tale like that, and then she realized Dejen probably would be as well.
"Certainly," Marta said with a bright smile. "It'll take a couple of hours for this place to warm up after we relight the fires, so you might want to wait until mid-morning."
"All right. We'll plan for a late breakfast before we leave."
With that, they said their goodbyes, headed out to the main room to find Lulu watching the two men playing their game and chatting with them about the rules. They bundled up again before heading back out into the cold. The wind was noticeably stronger now and the snow blew around them. The light was starting to fade and it would be dark soon.
As they hiked along the snowy streets back to Eberic and Marrit's house, Pariah asked, "So that was an inn, right? Not just a tavern?"
"Right," the dwarven woman said.
"So where was the inn part? I didn't see any guest rooms."
"They are all underground. The rooms are actually quite nice and cozy, with a central heating fire that keeps them all warm. I've heard some visitors complain about the lack of windows, but I've never understood other people's reluctance to live underground."
Pariah chuckled. "You've never thought of digging a nice dwarven home under your house?"
Marrit grinned back. "You may be joking, but we talked about it. You can't really dig a cellar once a house has been built. We'd have to either tear the house down and rebuild it, or start on an empty plot and dig down. We still kick around the idea now and then, but I don't think either of us is serious about it. As much as I like the solidity of being surrounded by the earth, I can appreciate the fresh air of an above ground house."
They didn't talk any more on the short trip back. Pariah had learned that lesson already -- the cold, dry air was murder on the throat, so it was best to keep conversation to a minimum while walking. The wind was picking up and they were heading into it, so they both focused on just making progress against the driving snow.
They arrived at the house to find the others sitting around the fire, still sipping on drinks. They seemed more relaxed than they'd been in a few days. Pariah followed Marrit into the kitchen to drop off the food she was carrying and then headed into the guest bedroom to strip out of her armor and put on a heavy wool tunic and leggings over the clothing she normally wore under her armor.
When she got back out to the main room, she saw that Bjarnson had joined Marrit in the kitchen and was helping her prepare lunch. Pariah poured herself a mug of tea from the kettle on the stove and then went into the living room to join the others.
Eventually, they all retired into the kitchen to crowd around the table and eat a lunch of moose, sweet potato and walnut bread, and mushroom and carrot soup. It was warm and filling, and the homey atmosphere was soothing. Marrit asked them about their travels and they mostly left it to Eberic to tell the story. He glossed over some of the more dangerous details, but gave her a fairly accurate account of what they had all been through since he'd left Termalaine. When they'd finished eating, he and Marrit held hands while he finished telling the story.
After lunch, they broke up into groups. Eberic, Zariel and Dejen sat around the table playing a card game while Lulu watched; her small size made it impossible for her to hold cards and play. Bjarnson helped Marrit clean up and they chatted about food. She was intrigued by his cooking prowess and he gave her a lot of ideas for dishes to try in the future.
Pariah got the book on Netheril out of her pack and settled into a rocking chair in the living room to read it. The text was pretty advanced and she had trouble following it, especially since she knew almost nothing about Netheril. However she plowed on, at one point fetching a pencil and paper so she could make notes. Maybe she'd talk about it with Dejen later.
The book was about various mysteries from the Netheril Empire, mostly about lost treasures. Chapters included musings on the location of Queen Gweddion's lost throne, the fate of the Silver Coffer of Jagthaath, and whether the Dancing River Sage was truly dead or if he had achieved immortality.
It was clear from the wear and the notes in the margins that the wizard Dzaan, the book's former owner, had been interested in only one of these stories: the tale of the lost city of Ythryn.
Ythryn had been a city ruled by a powerful mage named Iriolarthas. Like many Netherese cities, Ythryn had been able to fly through the magic of something called a mythallar. Iriolarthas had taken his city into the skies frozen north, seeking relics from Ostoria, a kingdom of giants that had reigned thirty thousand years ago. Iriolarthas had been in communication with other mages and scholars, though he had been careful not to give them any details of his location or his discoveries. And then one day, he and his city just disappeared. Nobody heard from him. A few expeditions into the area had found nothing. Spells and divinations gave no answer. He and his city of thousands of inhabitants had simply vanished.
For two thousand years, expeditions had tried to find Ythryn. The leading theory was that it was buried somewhere under the ice in the northern part of Faerûn, though nobody had any idea why the city would have fallen. The book noted that this happened several years before Karsus's Folly had caused the disruption that had caused all of the Netherese cities to crash.
Dzaan had also made notes on the maps in his atlas of the area but, like the markings on Avarice's map, they were encoded and made no sense to her. Pariah had assumed Avarice was looking for the duergar, but maybe she was looking for something else.
It made for an exciting story, and possibly an adventure for them after they had settled the more immediate problems in the area. However, to her disappointment, there wasn't anything here that would help them against the Everlasting Rime. She returned the book to her pack and headed into the kitchen to join the card game and pass the rest of the afternoon away.
Notes:
This was mostly a little slice-of-life chapter as a breather before they head out into the wilderness. I've never heard of nine-men's morris, but it's a board game that goes back at least 2000 years.
Chapter 70: A Hot Breakfast on a Cold Morning
Summary:
The group wakes up after having spent a night without a fire as Termalaine sacrifices warmth to Auril.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 12, 1496 (11 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah huddled in a cocoon of warmth. She wore two layers of wool clothing plus her fur cloak. She and Zariel were sleeping under a blanket of thick fur. Bjarnson and Dejen were similarly sharing a bed of furs on the floor; Pariah hadn't objected too strongly when Bjarnson had insisted that the women take the bed. Lulu had returned to Mount Celestia for the night.
A trickle of freezing air invaded her warm sanctuary, coming from the tiny space near her mouth where she was forced to leave a gap for air. She had tried sleeping while completely under the furs, but the air got stale quickly. However, without wind pushing the air in, the small amount of bitter cold was quickly lost in the warmth of their body heat.
The storm that had battered the house all night seemed to be fading. She wondered if there was always such a fierce blizzard on the nights of sacrifice and, if so, did it mean Auril was happy or angry with the sacrifice of warmth? The immortals were so often cryptic with their messages and it could mean either. For now, the weather was blustery but not the unrestrained fury it had been during the night.
It had abated enough that she had heard the bell ringing as the crier walked down the street announcing the end of the sacrifice. The sound had faded into hearing about a half an hour ago, moved past the house until it had died away. She thought she could still hear it in the distance, but the wind and the furs made it hard to hear anything. Not long after, she had heard movement and voices in the living room. Since everyone else was in the room, she assumed it was Eberic and Marrit. She hoped their hosts were stoking the fireplace, but finding out would require leaving her small fortress of warmth. She planned to wait until she smelled food cooking before braving the cold, unforgiving world outside her blankets.
Then again, she was pretty sure she was going to have to take a trip to the outhouse soon.
As she was debating the urgency of her bladder versus the comfort of staying where she was, someone stirred in the room. She peered out through the tiny air gap at the edge of her blanket. The room was dark, with no light burning and both curtains and shutters closed against the cold. However, she could still see faintly in the darkness as Dejen slipped out from under his covers and stood up. As he grabbed his boots and headed for the door, she whispered, "Hey, let me know if they've started the fire up."
He jumped slightly when she spoke, and then after a moment he whispered back, "All right."
As soon as he opened the door, she could see the flickering light from the living room, which answered her question. Regardless, he said, "Yes, the fire has been lit."
"Thanks," she replied.
He exited the room, leaving the door ajar. Pariah still hated to leave the warmth of the bed. It would take a while for the fire to heat the house back up. Then again a hot drink would help. She couldn't smell anything like tea or coffee at the moment, but that was probably coming. Plus she might as well be a good guest and offer to help with breakfast.
Or she could stay in her safe, comfortable spot a little longer.
A draft of cold air hit her back as Zariel sat up and swung her legs off the bed, disturbing the blanket. The other woman stretched with a groan and then stood up. She quietly walked around the foot of the bed and out the door to the living room. Bjarnson seemed to be still sleeping soundly.
"Fine," Pariah mumbled to herself petulantly. She flung the blanket off and was enveloped by freezing air, but she was still snug in her furs and woolens, not to mention her own innate adaptation to cold. She felt a bit silly being so reluctant to face the chill when she was the best prepared for it of anyone in the house.
She went out into the living room to find Eberic carefully putting another small log on the growing fire in the fireplace. He looked up and grunted a greeting at her before returning to poking at the fire. Zariel was just headed into the kitchen and Pariah followed her. The fireplace opened into both rooms but there was also an iron oven and stove on the opposite wall. On top of the stove was a covered pot and an empty frying pan. A ceramic teapot sat on the counter alongside a mismatched set of mugs.
"Good morning," Zariel said to Marrit, her voice a little hoarse.
The dwarven woman was at the counter, slicing into a slab of blubber. She turned to say over her shoulder cheerfully, "Good morning. I'm brewing some mushroom coffee but that will take another half hour or so. There's some peppermint tea in the pot there if you want something sooner. Honey is in the cupboard."
"Thank you," Zariel said as she went to pour herself a cup.
Pariah moved to stand by the fire. Zariel raised the pot in her direction with a questioning look, but Pariah shook her head. Zariel set the pot down and then walked over to join Pariah by the fire, sipping from her mug.
Pariah said to Marrit, "Anything we can help with?"
The woman looked around the kitchen for a moment. "Not at the moment I think. Were you going to go to the Eastside for breakfast?"
Pariah remembered that she had considered doing that to hear more of Marta's story, but she said, "Nah. I don't think I want to brave the dark and cold this morning. If you don't mind, of course."
"Of course not," Marrit said with a warm smile. "In that case, I'll get things started. I might recruit one or two of you to help serve. So how did you all sleep?"
"I did fine," Pariah said, "though the storm kept me up a little. Does it normally storm like that on sacrifice nights?"
"No, not at all. I think that was just normal weather around here." She furrowed her brow. "Though it did seem to be a little long, I have to admit."
Pariah had thought the same thing. The blizzards were brutal but tended to blow themselves out after a couple of hours. This had gone nearly all night, starting even before they had gone to bed. Maybe it was coincidence. She certainly hoped so because if it wasn't random, and it wasn't because of the sacrifice, she feared it was because they were in town. Maybe Auril was starting to notice them, and that couldn’t possibly be a good thing.
The door at the back of the kitchen opened, letting in a blast of cold air as Dejen entered. "My, my," he said as he pushed the door closed. "It's quite brisk out."
He joined them at the fire. Zariel was staring into the flames. Pariah said to her, "Did you need the outhouse?"
"Hmm?" Zariel said, shaking out of her reverie. "Oh, you can go ahead."
"You were up second," Pariah shrugged. "You're next in line."
"Yes, all right," she said distantly. She walked to the back door, putting her mug on the counter before pulling her cloak around her. As she headed out into the windy night, Pariah found herself wondering if the transition from angel to mortal had been strange because of biological needs. Did angels pee? In Avernus, Lulu had eaten with them from time to time, out of courtesy rather than need, but she'd never needed to go off to relieve herself. That didn't seem to be something celestials did.
Did that mean Zariel had to learn about bathroom habits when she arrived in the Material Plane? Or was that information somehow planted in her mortal brain?
Pariah shook her head. That was a very strange train of thought, and certainly something she wasn't going to ask about.
Bjarnson eventually joined them and Zariel summoned Lulu back to this plane. The fire was kept high in an effort to blast heat into the house and in about an hour Pariah was able to shed her furs. The others continued to shiver, downing hot drinks and hot food in an effort to chase away the chills. The mushroom coffee had a hearty, earthy essence to it that was a strong contrast to the delicate flavor of the mint tea. Pariah liked it. Marrit said it was actually a blend of mushrooms and coffee beans.
Dejen stared into his cup, the steam fogging the lenses of the goggles he had raised to his forehead. "I've been wondering about this since we encountered coffee in Easthaven. The plant is tropical. How is it grown in Icewind Dale at all, much less in this eternal winter?"
Marrit replied cryptically, "Dwarves have been growing things underground away from the sunlight for thousands of years. Dwarven Valley was never much of a farming community, but they have scaled up their agricultural efforts during the Everlasting Rime. There is still a trickle of goods coming in at Revel's End or some insane caravan who braves the dangerous passes of the Spine of the World, and of course a few things are grown in the greenhouses at Good Mead, but the dwarves have been providing a lot of the food to Ten-Towns and the Reghedmen."
"Greenhouses?" Dejen asked with interest. "What kind of things do they grow at Good Mead?"
"Mostly flowers for the bees so they have honey for the mead. They've had greenhouses for generations so they could maintain the flow of mead in the winters. Since then, they've built many more and experimented with all kinds of techniques for growing." She shook her head. "But the plants that grow above ground need the sun. They use nature magic and make a lot of offerings to Silvanus, and somehow they've managed to eke out some semblance of farming. Mostly root vegetables, but a few other things like tomatoes and spinach. No grain though, which I know a lot of people miss. Beer and bread are the foundation of most civilizations. And the crops they do grow are quite expensive because they're so rare."
They continued to chat about farming, and Bjarnson joined the conversation, but Pariah wasn't that interested. It wasn't that she didn't care, she just had more immediate thoughts on her mind. Eberic was sitting next to her at the table. He'd turned his chair to face the fire and was poking at it listlessly. Pariah had been meaning to ask him something.
She leaned over to him and said, "You know, we've never talked about what your plans are. We leave today. Are you coming with us?"
He stared into the fire for a time, and then looked wistfully over his shoulder at Marrit. "She and I talked about that last night. I'll come with you to Black Cabin. It's not far. After that..." He shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see."
"Understandable," she said. "You have family here; we don't. Most of us are outsiders. Bjarnson isn't, but I don't get the impression he has any place he calls home. Or rather home is just where he is at the moment. We don't have much else to do other than wander around getting into trouble."
That got a hint of a wry grin out of him. "And there's plenty of trouble out there to get into." He grew serious again. "I want to stay, but I don't want to turn my back on what's going on. Nobody should..." He trailed off and his jaw clenched. After a moment he said, "I wanted to thank you for what you did with the Easthaven lottery. The lottery shouldn't exist, but at least people have a choice now." His face clouded. "I wish we could do the same in Targos, but Maxildanarr is a heartless bastard. He'd throw his own mother to the wolves if it meant power or money for him."
He turned to look at her with his sad, brown eyes. "I'm just saying that the only way to stop the lottery, to stop the murder, is to stop Auril's madness. The best thing I can do for my family may be to help with that."
Pariah put a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you know we'll support you either way, whether you come with us or stay with your wife."
He gave her a gruff nod and returned his attention to the fire.
When the conversation about farming had wound down, Pariah asked, "How long will it take us to get to the cabin?"
Bjarnson looked up at the ceiling as he considered the question. "It's about a ten mile trip. If the weather stays bad that could be three or four hours, but I think it's winding down. Assuming it clears we can probably make it in two."
She said, "We still need to pick up lumber, nails and paper. Marrit, when do the shops open?"
"Normally things open pretty early, since the miners and fishers are always off right after breakfast. But everything opens late after the sacrifice nights since we're all trying to get warm. I doubt there will be anyone in the market before first light. Then again, you'll go to the mill for that stuff. There might be people around earlier than that."
"When do you think we should leave?" Pariah asked Bjarnson.
"Normally I'd say wait for sunup. Traveling in the wilderness is different than traveling on the roads, even along the stretches that can barely be called roads, but this should be an easy trip." He traced an invisible picture on the wooden table. "We're here. The Lonelywood stretches north. We'll follow its eastern edge until we get to the Bleakrun, and then follow that to the bluff that overlooks it. The point is that even if it's dark or the weather's bad, there are enough easy landmarks to find our way."
Eberic added, "We should be there and back by this evening."
Bjarnson nodded sagely. "Unless..." He trailed off and then grinned. "Well, I won't jinx it. We'll be back by evening." He knocked on the wooden table for luck.
Pariah was fidgety. Although the others were shivering and trying to get warm, she felt fine and wanted to get moving. She could go back to her book on Netheril, but trying to make sense of it was too frustrating. "I don't suppose there's a library in town," she said.
"No," Marrit chuckled. "You'd have to head to one of the big towns for that: Targos, Bryn Shander or Easthaven."
"I've been to the Easthaven library," she said. "I never thought to look for one in Bryn Shander."
Dejen added, "And Culver had a few books."
Pariah remembered he was the collector in Caer-Dineval. "Oh, that's right. I didn't get a chance to look at what he had. And I doubt Avarice would have been interested in lending anything from her library."
Marrit looked puzzled, so Pariah added, "Someone we met in Caer-Dineval." She didn't see any point in elaborating.
She thought about going to fetch the dogs herself, but she couldn't manage two sleds. Then again, she could get one of the sleds and pick up the goods for the cabin. "How far is the mill?" she asked.
"About half a mile," Marrit said. She pointed. "You head north to the mine road, turn right, and then it's pretty obvious from there."
Pariah swallowed the last of her coffee and stood up. "I'm kind of restless. I think I'll make a run, see if they are open yet."
Zariel said, "I'm not sure we should separate."
Pariah made a dismissive gesture. "In Bryn Shander, I'd agree, but I don't think we've had time to make any enemies here yet." That elicited a grim chuckle from the group. She continued, "You all stay here and warm up. Lulu, maybe you could come with me so Zariel can stay in contact."
Despite her confidence that the town was safe, she did take time to put on her leathers and buckle on her sword. No point in being reckless. She bundled up against the cold, but she could hear the wind had died down significantly. It seemed that Bjarnson was right and the storm was abating. With Lulu riding inside her cloak, Pariah headed out into the dark winter morning.
She saw nobody else on the street during her walk north. At the edge of town, a wide road led from left to right. An evergreen forest reached right up to the edge of the road and stretched off into the darkness. A short figure carrying a spear lounged against the wall of a building, facing into the forest. He stood up straight as he heard her footsteps. As was common she couldn't see much more than a figure wrapped in furs, though from his height and the long black, beard spilling out from his hood, she guessed it was a dwarven man. "Morning," she said cautiously.
"Morning," he said back. "Headed to the mine?"
"The mill," she said. "Hoping they've opened up."
He looked down the road to the right and then back at her. "Be careful. There was an undead attack on the mill last night. It should be safe now, but I don't know how much damage was done. There's guards along the road for now, but you might want to wait until daylight."
"Thanks, but I'll risk it," she said thoughtfully. "Are undead attacks common in the area?"
He shook his head. "Can't remember the last time that happened, and certainly nothing like this."
"Like this?" she prompted.
"I wasn't there, but I heard things. There was just one but it had some kind of light shining from it that blinded people."
"Ah," she said sagely. "Yeah, I fought one of them. They're pretty tough. It was destroyed?"
"Yes, by Clangeddin's valor, though we lost a couple of soldiers."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Thanks for the warning." She nodded a goodbye, and started down the road.
She passed one more guard down the road and they exchange silent nods. It wasn't long before the lumber mill loomed up in the distance. The road continued past it, presumably to the tourmaline mine that was one of the town's main industries.
The mill building itself was a massive, T-shaped structure with a large chimney in the center that was currently pouring out black smoke. There was an open doorway as wide as two wagons on the near end of the T. She could see lights inside and figures moving around, though she couldn't see much in the way of detail. The land around it had been cleared and was surrounded by a waist-high wooden rail fence. A stack of a couple dozen snow-covered logs in one corner reached about shoulder high.
She saw at least four militia members standing around the yard, all looking to the north. There was no obvious sign of battle but she couldn't see past the main building. There might be damage on the other side of the yard. There was a door at the intersection of the parts of the T with a sign that read "Office". There was no window so she couldn't tell if there was anyone inside, but that seemed like the obvious place to ask about purchases.
Light spilled out when she opened the door, so she hurried inside and closed the door behind her to keep out the wind. The room was small and cramped, stuffed with stacks of crates, a desk shoved into one corner, and an iron stove in another. A lone lantern lit the place but there was nobody inside. She was about to call out but then a dark-skinned man with black hair cut very short came in through the only other doorway in the place.
"Good morning," he said tiredly. "What can I do for you?"
"Good morning. Are you open for buyers yet?"
He shrugged. "Sure. What do you need?"
"It’s not much," she said, reaching into a pocket to take out the list Copper had made and handed it to him: a few planks of lumber, a box of nails, and a hundred sheets of paper.
He looked it over and said, "Yeah, we'd have all of this. Is your sled outside?"
"No," she replied. "I'll head to the kennel and get it now. I just wanted to make sure you were open first."
He nodded. "We'll stack it by the fence and you can come get it when you like."
They haggled a bit over the price and settled on 26 gold dragons; most of that was the cost of the paper. She still had a lot of the witch's gold so that didn't make too much of a dent in her purse, though she still intended to try and get Copper's friend, Macreadus, to reimburse her.
"All right," she said, "I'll be back in a bit to pick it up." She headed back out into the cold to make the trek to the kennel.
Notes:
The river north of Maer Dualdon (the lake) doesn't have a name in any source I've found, so I picked a name. I was inspired by the barrenness of the area, and the name Lonelywood.
Chapter 71: The Black Cabin
Summary:
The party leaves Termalaine, heading north to find Copper's friend, Macreadus.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 12, 1496 (11 days after the Full Moon)
Although Pariah was impatient to get going, she wasn't going to push the others as long as they were still shivering around the table in Eberic's kitchen. The cold had seeped into their bones and it took a lot of hot fire and warm drinks before they were ready for travel. Pariah had fetched both sleds, one at a time, and stopped by the mill to pick up their supplies but it was still an hour after dawn before they left Termalaine.
They drove the sleds past the lumber mill until the forest thinned out, and then turned north to follow the edge of the woods. The wind had died down and the sky, although still full of gray clouds, showed patches of blue. The snow-covered peak of Kelvin's Cairn dominated the horizon to the northeast, and Pariah knew from looking at the map that Dwarven Valley was only a couple of miles to their right.
They passed a party of four fur-clad bowmen who were also traveling along the edge of the forest. Pariah leaned forward to ask Bjarnson, "Do you think they are looking for more undead?"
He looked back towards the group and then said, "Probably not. Just hunters, I imagine."
They had all been worried when Pariah had told them about the undead attack from the previous night. A brutal blizzard that included an appearance by a creature they associated with Auril made it seem like they were being targeted. This made her wonder -- and she hadn't said this part out loud -- if Eberic would be endangering his wife, and the town in general, if he decided to stay behind after they were done investigating the Black Cabin.
Then again, the calm air and thinning clouds made her think that the storm last night had just been a coincidence. Not everything that happened was some machination of the gods. Sometimes weather was just weather, and a zombie attack was the price of living along the Sword Coast, where monsters seemed to thrive between the islands of civilization.
The dogs were able to keep up a good pace over the flat expanse of pale snow. It wasn't the same speed they'd gotten on the roads, since the land undulated and the occasional rock or sudden dip in the terrain could be dangerous, but they were making good time. And with the forest to their left and the mountain in the distance, it's not like they were going to get lost.
They were close enough to Kelvin's Cairn that the mountain moved to mark their progress. At the start of their journey it had been a bit off center of their direction of travel, but it had slid all the way to their right and was starting to move behind them by the time they reached the end of the forest and continued past it. It was only another half hour before they reached the Bleakrun River, which flowed from the northeast to drain into Maer Dualdon. Or at least it used to when the weather was warmer. Right now it was frozen solid and covered with a dusting of snow.
They traveled only about a mile along the river before they reached a point where the river cut between two hills. The hill in front of them wasn't all that high -- maybe a hundred or hundred and fifty feet -- but the west side had collapsed, leaving a sheer cliff next to the river. Atop the hill, hanging a good ten feet or so out over the edge of the drop off, was a cabin of black wood.
As they got closer, they could see how dilapidated the cabin was. The entire building slumped in a depressing posture, and the peak of the pitched roof sagged. Two gray stone chimneys poked up from the ridge of the roof. The east side of the building rested on the hill but the rest of the structure was supported by stilts to keep the building level against the slope. The west side was a good twenty feet above the hillside, or at least where the hillside had been. The bracing had fallen away where the hill had collapsed, leaving Pariah unsure how safe the building was.
The main body of the cabin was rectangular with the wide side facing the approaching travelers, but there was also an extension that stuck out on the right side of the wall facing them that was about a third as wide as the cabin. A set of wooden stairs led up the near wall of the extension, leading up to a walkway that wrapped around the front of the building. They could see a door on the far left and two windows with shutters that hung open crookedly.
They pulled the sleds up and stopped in front of the cabin. There were two smaller buildings here: an outhouse, and an open but covered woodshed, both nearly buried in drifting snow.
Bjarnson took in a breath and bellowed, "Hello in the cabin!"
There was little wind, and his voice rang out across the emptiness. Nobody responded and nothing stirred in the cabin.
Eberic said, "Nobody's here."
"Maybe he's just asleep," Pariah suggested, though she didn't believe it. The place radiated emptiness, though she had nothing solid to base that feeling on.
"No smoke from the chimneys." He nodded towards the smaller buildings. "No footprints. Outhouse door blocked by snow. Nobody's been here for days."
Looking over the sagging structure, Pariah wondered if it had been more like months. "He could have moved somewhere else. That place doesn't look too safe."
"Maybe," Eberic said skeptically. "I guess we better find out." He drew his ice dagger.
While his gesture seemed a bit of an overreaction to Pariah, she did take a moment to strap on her shield. Animals or other creatures might have moved into the building. The snow wasn't deep on top of the hill, and they were only a few feet from the stairs, so they didn't bother with snowshoes. Zariel stood at the foot of the steps, eying the structure critically, and said, "I think I shouldn't lead the way. I'm unsure of the integrity of this structure. Lulu, why don't you scout the place first."
Lulu flew up towards the windows they could see. Eberic didn't wait, and carefully started to climb the stairs, his weapon held before him. The wood creaked ominously but it didn't sway under his weight. By the time he'd reached the top, Lulu had come back down.
"I saw something on the floor inside," she said somberly. "I think it was a body. It's all burned up and the inside of the room is scorched. The windows are broken. I didn't go inside."
"That was probably for the best," Zariel said. "Did you see anything else? Anything alive?"
"No. Snow has blown in through the windows. I couldn't see any footprints. The whole place looks abandoned."
Zariel looked up the stairs with a frown. She said, "I'm still not sure it's a good idea for all of us to go up there."
"I'll go," Pariah said. "Me and Eberic and Lulu can look the place over. We'll let you know if we find anything."
"That seems wise," Zariel said. "We can look for clues out here."
Pariah didn't draw her weapon as she mounted the steps, though she kept a hand on the chardalyn focus on the end of the hilt. As had happened with Eberic, the wood creaked under her weight and the steps sagged a bit, but the structure seemed firm. Still, there was no reason to overload the neglected structure with all of them. Lulu flew up but stayed with her as she climbed.
The stairs came up to the corner of the extension on the cabin, and the wooden walkway immediately turned right to follow the wall. A railing about the height of her hips ran around the outer edge of the path. There was a door on the near wall of the extension with a shuttered window beside it. The pathway turned left again to run along the front of the cabin. It passed the two broken windows and ended by another door.
The far door was closed but Eberic had opened the nearer door and was peering inside. As Pariah drew near, he nodded towards the doorway and said, "Workshop."
She looked past him into the room. There was a window on the other side that let in the weak sunlight, enough to illuminate the room. A wooden table in the middle of the space held a variety of tools including a smith's hammer, tongs, pliers, and small screwdrivers along with several pieces of metal. Against the far wall was a small forge with a bellows. A crude metal chimney vented the forge through a hole in the wall. An empty bookcase stood on the wall to the left, and something had made a small nest on the bottom shelf.
There was no other door leading out of the room, and nothing else inside, so she and Eberic continued down the wooden walkway.
They stopped at the first broken window. Shutters hung crookedly on either side, the inside surface of the wood singed. Shards of glass hung in the frame, some angled outwards. "These were broken from the inside," Eberic observed. "Something exploded from the inside."
Through the window was a large space, obviously the main room of the cabin. Dim light came in through the windows and from holes in the roof, enough for dwarven and tiefling eyes to make out the details. Every surface was scorched black, and snow dusted the floor. The room was dominated by a wooden table that held the charred remains of a book. Past the table was a body on the floor, or what was left of one. White bone protruded from charred flesh. Pariah couldn't even guess race or gender, though it was a safe bet that this was Macreadus.
There were two open doors on the far wall of the room, and a hallway to the right. She could also see a fireplace on the right wall, though it was unlit.
Pariah and Eberic exchanged a silent glance, and then he continued along the walkway, his dagger still drawn. The walkway past the door had fallen away with the landslide. The boards continued to groan under their feet, but the structure seemed firmly affixed to the front of the cabin. Despite that, they both advanced cautiously and Pariah stayed about ten feet back so as not to put too much weight on one section.
Eberic entered the cabin through the door and Lulu flew in through a window. As Pariah approached the end of the walkway, she heard Eberic say softly, "Lulu, let's get some light in here."
As Pariah came through the door, the room was lit by a warm glow from above where Lulu had enchanted one of the rafters. It didn't reveal much more than they had already seen. There was a bench against the wall between the windows, unlit lanterns mounted on the wall at either end of the room, and charred pieces of wood that might have been chairs. Several broken bottles lay on the floor surrounded by dark, frozen puddles. The fireplace was open to the room on the other side of the wall, where the end of a bed was visible.
The floor creaked loudly as Eberic advanced into the room and his foot suddenly broke through the floor. He threw himself back as Pariah reached out to grab his cloak and pull him away from the damaged board. They stood there, unmoving, but nothing more happened. They leaned forward to look through a new hole in the floor the size of a dwarven foot, and they saw that it dropped down the collapsed face of the hill to the snowy ground a good hundred feet below.
"Let's stay in this part of the cabin," Pariah said nervously, waving towards the right where the structure should be resting on the hill.
"Agreed," Eberic said gruffly.
They moved around the table to get a better look at the corpse. It was even worse close up. All of the flesh on the front side had been burned off the bone. Remnants of scorched clothing and furs lay between the body and the floor, but everything else had been destroyed except for a pair of frost-covered rings about a hand-span across mounted concentrically, and a jeweled pendant on a gold chain that had been worn around his neck. The jewels in the pendant depicted two hands cupping the sun. Neither the pendant nor the rings seemed to be damaged, though the pendant bore streaks of soot.
"Bad news for Copper, I guess," Eberic said, staring down at the body.
"Yeah," Pariah sighed. "I wonder what happened here."
Eberic shrugged and sheathed his dagger. "I suppose we should look around the place, but it seems we have the answer we came here for."
"And we should take the body back. Let Copper decide what to do with it."
"True."
There were still the two doors they had seen from the window, and now they spotted two more doors on either side of the short, narrow hallway. Pariah said, "You check out the hall. I'll look around here."
The dwarf nodded and moved off.
Pariah looked at the leftmost door, but it was in the section of the cabin that hung off the cliff so she wasn't about to investigate. "Lulu, see if there's anything important in there," she said as she headed towards the other door.
As the asteri zipped off, Pariah looked at the book on the table. The cover had been destroyed and only a few letters remained along the spine. She couldn't make sense of the fragment of a word that remained, but the alphabet looked the same as the one used in the book she had seen on Avarice's desk. None of the pages inside had survived the fiery blast that had gutted the room, and the burned paper disintegrated in her fingers as she tried to flip through. She grunted in disappointment. Lulu came back and said, "There's just four barrels in there. I think it's wine."
Pariah nodded absently. Even if she planned to loot the place -- and she felt reluctant to do that with the man's corpse a few feet away -- she wasn't going to risk going into the unstable part of the cabin for some wine.
She headed into the second doorway to find a wide room with shuttered windows. There was another fireplace on the right wall which opened into the far room, apparently another bedroom. She frowned in frustration at the two empty bookcases; did this man keep any books at all?
However the room did contain something interesting: about a dozen frost-covered blueprints tacked to the walls and littering the floor. She squatted down to brush the frost off one of the documents on the floor to look at the diagram there. She didn't understand what she was looking at but, whatever it was, it was made up of concentric rings. She turned to look back out the door at the object resting on the corpse's chest.
She started to stand but stopped as she saw something odd in the dim light. There was a clay figure sprawled out next to one of the blueprints. The pose was odd for a decorative statue or a religious idol. She reached out to pick it up and was surprised when the limbs dangled limply. It was like a doll made of clay. "Hey, Lulu. Remember that thing the wizard in the Wandering Emporium sent with us when we went after the pit fiend?" She held out the clay doll towards the angel. "Does this seem like the same kind of thing?"
"Maybe," Lulu said uncertainly. "A homunculus."
Pariah nodded. "Yeah, that's what he called it." She examined it and then shrugged and set it back down. Whatever it had been, it was inert now.
She looked around at the blueprints but they meant nothing to her. "Go get Dejen," she suggested. "He might be able to make sense of this."
"All right," Lulu said as she flew off.
Pariah stood, exited the room and headed down the hall to look for Eberic. He was standing in one of the bedrooms near the fireplace, reading a crumpled scroll. "What's that?" Pariah asked.
He looked up. "Looks like the letter Copper wrote to Macreadus when he left. It's pretty angry." He pursed his lips. "It's obvious to me that he feels ashamed for leaving under bad circumstances. That," he nodded towards the main room, "isn't going to help his guilt."
Pariah nodded gloomily.
Eberic said, "Find anything?"
"A bunch of blueprints for the device he was working on. I sent Lulu for Dejen, since he's probably the only one they'll mean anything to. We should take those for Copper when we leave. I don't know if he'll want to continue the work or not."
The dwarf shook his head. "I doubt it. Among other things in this letter, he calls the Summer Star a fool's errand."
"Summer Star?" Pariah asked in confusion.
Eberic shrugged. "His invention to end the Rime, I guess."
"Ah," she said. "Anything else in here?"
"I'm going to go through his clothes and bed to see if he hid anything important away, but I think we're mostly done here."
"I guess so," she said in disappointment. She had been skeptical that his invention was going to end Auril's plans, but she hadn't expected this. Not just the fact that he was dead, but that he had died in such a bleak, depressing place. "I can't wait to get out of here," she said with a shiver.
She heard the walkway creaking so she headed out to the main room to see Dejen cautiously entering the room. "Is it safe?" he asked nervously.
"Mostly," she said. "Stay away from that side of the cabin, but I think this half is stable." She pointed to the door. "There are a bunch of diagrams in there that look like they were the device he was working on. They were so much nonsense to me, but maybe you can make sense of them."
"Really?" he said, his enthusiasm chasing away his worry. "I'd be very interested in his theory." He looked down sadly at the body. "I would have liked to have talked to him about it."
He headed into the other room and Lulu followed him, leaving Pariah alone in the main room with the corpse. She looked down at it. At least he was frozen in a position that should be easy to wrap up. After a day in the hag cave, she wasn't as squeamish about wrapping corpses as she used to be.
She squatted down next to him to look at the amulet around his neck. She wiped off the frost with her thumb. She guessed this was a symbol of Lathander or Amaunator, though not one she was familiar with. Zariel or Lulu would know for sure. It was interesting that it was undamaged; she wondered if it had an enchantment. It was something else that should probably go to Copper in lieu of next of kin.
She looked at the device. It was made up of two metal rings, one mounted outside the other on a metal rod that ran through the diameter. The rings were concentric at the moment but it looked like they could rotate around the rod. An irregular gray stone about half the width of the rings was mounted in an ornate cradle held in place by the central rod. The rock clearly wasn't chardalyn, but there seemed to be a faint glow to it, though it was hard to tell even in the dim light of the cabin. There was writing along the metal rings but she couldn't make out the characters. She picked up the device to rub off the frost. It was heavier than she had expected, and the inner ring shifted as she moved it.
As the inner ring came into 90-degree alignment with the outer ring, the stone in the middle and the runes along the sides started to glow with yellow light. As the stone shone more brightly, she stood up, still holding the device. "Dejen," she called out nervously. "Should this be doing this?"
The light intensified, until she had to squint against the glare. It suddenly occurred to her that she shouldn't be holding an device of unknown purpose. She started to-
A burst of blinding light and searing heat burst from the thing, blasting agony across her body and throwing her backwards. She cried out as memories of having her skin burned off resurfaced, and she could see the brightness even through eyelids squeezed shut.
Just as suddenly, the light and heat and pain was gone. She was aware that she wasn't holding the device anymore, having apparently dropped it in her panic. She opened her eyes to look around. The flash had dazzled her vision and everything was cast in shades of gray, almost like her night vision although the room was brightly illuminated by the spell Lulu had cast. She was dizzy and felt like she was floating.
"Pariah!" came Dejen's muffled shout. She turned to see him rush out of the other room, Lulu close behind.
"I'm fine," she said, looking down at herself to see that she was uninjured.
That was odd. She wasn't wearing her furs or her armor. She was just in her normal street clothes. Not even the heavy wool clothing she had taken to wearing here, but a typical outfit she'd wear around Baldur's Gate. Her sword wasn't on her hip and her shield wasn't on her arm.
Dejen hurried forward and fell to his knees. "Pariah!" he shouted again, his voice still muffled like she was underwater. He sobbed, "Lulu, get Zariel. Get Bjarnson. Get help!" Lulu flew out the window.
Why was he looking down at Macreadus's body? Why was he upset? What was happening?
Wait, did Macreadus have horns? He was human, right? And yet the charred body at her feet had horns curving out from the forehead, arching back over the top of the head. A blackened tail came from under the body to lay against the blackened floorboards.
Pariah looked around in confusion, her head still swimming. And then she saw the other body, the original body, Macreadus's body. But if he was over there, who was that on the ground at her feet?
Her feet that floated a few inches above the floor.
The horror rose in her as she stared at the corpse. Could she be-
"You idiot!" a man's clear and piercing voice shouted from behind her. "Look what you've done!"
Notes:
Oh, well. Pariah's dead. The end.
Wait, I used that line in Avernus already. Except this time...well, I guess we'll have to see.
Although I hinted that the cabin is falling apart, which it is, I took out some of the dangers. There is supposed to be a gap to leap over on the walkway, and the far end can collapse, but I didn't want to deal with that. And I let Eberic find the weak floor without actually falling to his death.
But, as you can see, that doesn't mean the cabin is safe. In case you are wondering, that explosion does 10d10+35 (average 90) damage, half on a successful save. Pariah has 36 HP and I forced a failed save for story purposes, so that's instant death, no death saves.
Chapter 72: Low Spirits
Summary:
Pariah realizes in horror that she has just been killed by Macreadus's invention.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 12, 1496 (11 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah, still disoriented by what was happening, turned towards the short hallway that had been the source of the voice. Eberic was hurrying in from the bedrooms, but it hadn't been him that she had heard. It had probably been the angry human man standing at the near end of the hallway, the man who Eberic walked through without slowing down.
The stranger was bald with a goatee that reached his chest. It was hard to tell his skin color since he was gray like everything else, though his shade of gray was a bit darker than Eberic's but not as dark as Dejen's. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt covered by a leather apron, and he wore a circlet that held a collection of lenses on the left side, each mounted on arms so they could be lowered in front of his eye. He glared angrily at Pariah.
"Days!" he shouted. "Days I've waited for someone to come along, and you just immediately blow everything up!"
The walkway outside creaked as multiple sets of feet pounded up the steps. The sound, like everything other than the strange man's voice, was muffled. Zariel and Bjarnson hurried into the room, Lulu close behind, and rushed over to Pariah's body. They stopped and stared down at it with horror.
"You have to help her," Dejen begged. "Zariel, use your magic."
Zariel was nonplussed. Haltingly she said, "I...I can't. My healing can't possibly repair such...Once I could have...Once I did." She sank to her knees and bowed her head in prayer.
"Oh, Pariah," Bjarnson breathed as he also knelt next to her body. He reached out as though to put a hand on her calf, and then stopped and drew his hand back from the burned flesh and exposed bone.
"I'll get a blanket," Eberic said, and headed back down the hall towards the bedrooms.
Pariah was trying to get control of her spinning thoughts. "Are we dead?" she asked the man.
"What do you think?" he snapped, waving towards the bodies.
"But that's not...Why are we still here? We should have moved on to the City of Judgment, waiting to be escorted to our afterlives." She had read a lot about the afterlife upon her return from Avernus.
"I'm not going anywhere until I've finished my work," he declared emphatically.
"I guess that makes sense," she conceded. Strong emotions could keep souls rooted to the Material Plane. "But why am I still here?" She frowned. "Wait, then we are ghosts? That's great!"
"Great?" the man asked in confusion.
"They can see ghosts," she said waving towards the others. "Well, sort of."
She walked towards Lulu, who had turned away from the horrific scene and was standing on the table looking towards the window. Well, actually Pariah floated rather than walked. She thought about walking and she drifted in that direction. It felt odd, but that didn't matter right now. She moved in front of the angel and yelled, "Lulu! Hey, Lulu!" She waved her hands in front of the asteri's face. "Come on, Lulu, it's me. I'm right here."
"Great," the man mumbled. "Someone shows up and she's insane."
"I told you, they can detect ghosts. She's an angel and she," Pariah nodded towards the praying Zariel, "is a warrior of Lathander."
"Lathander?" he said sharply. "You worship Lathander?"
Pariah was surprised by his intensity. "Well, she does. I give him a thought now and then. Why?" And then she remembered the pendant. "You worship Lathander, too," she guessed. "You're Macreadus, aren't you?"
He snorted. "Of course. Who else would I be?"
She shrugged. "I hadn't gotten that far. I just died, you know. I'm still getting oriented, and some stranger keeps yelling at me."
"Well I certainly can't get out of this myself, so I had hoped that someone would come along to help. Maybe that ungrateful assistant of mine would come back and finish my work. I was nearly there, I tell you!"
Eberic had brought out two blankets and covered the bodies in the room. The group wasn't talking much at the moment, each lost in their own thoughts.
"Look, stranger," Macreadus began.
"Pariah," she said, pointing to herself.
"Pariah," he replied impatiently. "You might be able to contact your friends. When I first died, I could manipulate my environment just a little bit. I couldn't lift anything as heavy as the Summer Star or most of my tools, so I didn't see anything I could do to help. By the time I thought about trying to write something down, that ability had disappeared. I think my hold on this world is fading, but that must be why you've been held here: to assist me. Try it. Try moving something."
Pariah found his assumption that her soul had been trapped here to be his lackey a little insulting, but this wasn't the time to worry about that. Contacting the others had the be her priority, whether it helped him or not.
She looked around the room. She wondered about something like tapping one of them on the shoulder, but what would that prove? Moving a shard of glass on the floor or making the flame of Dejen's lantern flicker wasn't going to communicate anything. Actions like those might not even be enough for them to realize she was here.
And then she remembered how the White Lady had communicated.
But where could she do it? They were all looking in different directions, and none of them were focusing on anything. Lulu was now sitting on the edge of the table staring towards the window, tears on her face. She might be the best bet.
Pariah moved to the window and reached a finger out to the soot on the wall next to it. Her finger slipped right through the wall.
"Concentrate," Macreadus said. "You have to try to will yourself back into the world. Feel the solidity of the surface. Make it real."
She stared at the gray soot on the wall. Even now it seemed thin, almost mist-like, but she focused on it like she was concentrating on magical energies to shape them into a spell. She reached out again and felt the hint of a surface. It wasn't as firm or as rough as she expected, but there was something there. Slowly she moved her finger and traced letters into the soot, straining with every movement: P...A...R...I...A...H.
"Zariel?" said Lulu weakly, her voice shaking. "Zariel?" she said more loudly. "Zariel, look!"
Zariel started to say, "What is-" and then she broke off.
All of them turned in the direction Lulu was pointing.
"What is it?" Dejen breathed as he stared, mesmerized by the letters.
Pariah rolled her eyes. She had literally spelled out what it was! Just those few letters had tired her, but she concentrated and started writing again: IM HERE.
They crowded around the writing. Eberic was standing halfway into Pariah's spectral body, which felt strange. Well, it didn't feel like anything, but it was still an odd experience.
Zariel stared at the space near where Pariah was. "But there's nothing there, no spectral force. Lulu, can you detect anything?"
"No," the angel said in confusion. "But she has to be there! She just has to be."
Dejen said, "But if she was invisible, you wouldn't be able to see her." He waved his arms out blindly, one going through Pariah's head.
"But she's not invisible," Zariel replied, "she's...well..." She waved towards the blanket-covered body. "If it were her spirit, I should be able to detect it. Lulu even more so, since she can see many other types of entities. But there is nothing there."
Annoyed, Pariah drew an arrow in the soot pointing to "IM HERE".
Dejen said, "Something is writing that, and it has to be her."
Lulu stared in Pariah's general direction. "I can't hear her thoughts. I don't know...But it has to be her!"
"Maybe something is impersonating her," Zariel said.
"Maybe," Lulu said reluctantly. "I know! Pariah, if that's you, where did we first meet?"
Pariah grimaced. She was running out of energy and didn't think she could manage the full name, much less a sentence. She struggled to write "TRXGR" in the soot.
"Yes!" Lulu crowed. "Traxigor's tower. It's her! It's her!"
"I suppose," said Zariel skeptically. "I don't understand why we cannot detect her spiritual form though."
"It doesn't matter," Lulu insisted. "She's here. We have to ask Lathander to bring her back."
Zariel replied gently, "I'm not sure that's a favor he'd grant either of us."
"We have to ask!"
"I will," Zariel conceded. "I do think my prayers were making a connection, more so than normal. And I had previously received dreams that sent me here, so I have to believe that there is some kind of answer in this cabin. I would like to return to my meditation and ask for guidance."
"Send me back to Mount Celestia," Lulu said. "Let me see who I can find to talk to."
"Very well," Zariel replied. "I'll resummon you later." She made a circle in the air around Lulu, and the asteri faded away.
Dejen took a step forward. "I'd like to find Macreadus's research. His blueprints are in the other room, but he must have a journal somewhere."
"Ha!" Macreadus said. "It's all up here." He tapped his head. "Didn't want anyone stealing my work."
"No danger of that now," Pariah replied drily.
"But they must finish the Summer Star!" he insisted.
"Why, so we can have a really good bomb?"
"No, no, no," he said, waving off her words. "Yes, there was a small problem with controlling the flow of energy, but the theory is sound!"
"Small problem?" she retorted. "We're both dead!"
He made a dismissive snort. "Doesn't matter. My work must survive. And I have some ideas. You must tell them!"
Pariah looked sourly at the wall. That was fine for simple answers -- she understood why the White Lady's responses had been so short -- but it wasn't going to work for longer conversations. She looked around the room for inspiration. Zariel had knelt by Macreadus's body to retrieve his symbol of Lathander and was holding it as she prayed silently with her eyes closed. Eberic was telling Dejen that he hadn't found any books or any writing other than the letter from Copper. Bjarnson was standing in a corner watching the situation in bewilderment.
Pariah saw Dejen's magical quill sticking out of its sheath in his belt; he wore it like a weapon which, to be fair, it was for him. That might be easier. She moved towards him to fetch it, but he exclaimed, "Letter? Where is it? I must see it!" and he headed off after Eberic into the bedroom. Pariah followed.
"Where are you going?" Macreadus demanded. "You have to write a message."
"That's what I'm doing," she called back at him.
Dejen had picked up the letter from where Eberic had dropped it back on the floor. As he peered at it intensely, Pariah moved forward to grab his quill. This was trickier than writing in the soot. She had to concentrate on multiple fingers rather than one, trying to make them solid enough to grab the object. Then, when she tried to lift it, it strained...well, not her muscles exactly. She didn't feel it in her arms or her hand. It was more like mental effort. But she struggled to lift the wooden quill out of its sheath.
Meanwhile, Dejen was musing, "Three is better than two. What could he have meant by that? Three is better than two."
"Three heads is better than two?" Eberic guessed. "Maybe he thought they needed a third person working on it."
"Nonsense!" Macreadus said, having followed Pariah into the room. "I was the only head needed. Copper was for the grunt work. There was no reason to bring in anyone else."
Pariah was still trying to get the quill to move and wanted to ignore him, but she asked, "What do you think he meant by that then?"
He harrumphed, which didn't seem helpful so she ignored him in favor of her task. She held her right wrist with her left hand, trying to give her phantom hand more lifting power. After a moment, Macreadus mumbled, "Maybe, maybe mind you, he meant a third focusing ring was necessary to control the power flow. Seems like a daft idea."
Although she was concentrating on lifting the quill, she could still hear the doubt in his voice. It might be worth suggesting the idea to the others, but first she had to get this quill out of its holster.
Dejen said, "I guess there isn't anything useful in this letter. I want to look over his blueprints. Maybe he hid a journal under his mattress or in a secret compartment or something. Please look around. It might be essential."
"Talona's tits," Pariah hissed as he walked away and the quill was pulled from her fingers. She went after him as Eberic started searching under the mattress.
Macreadus floated along after her. "Will you hurry up? We must tell them my instructions on how to repair the Summer Star."
"I'm doing my best," she snapped back. "And even if we can figure out what to do, what's the point if the next person who touches that dies in another fiery explosion."
"That's not going to happen," he said dismissively. "It takes the stone a day or two to build up a charge again. It's perfectly safe now."
She glanced sourly down at the device lying next to her blanket-draped corpse. The heat had melted off all the frost and the runes were clearly visible on the surface of the silver rings. She stopped to examine the markings, hoping she might glean some insight, but they had no meaning to her. Magical runes weren't a language so were beyond her ability to read anything.
Bjarnson was perched on the edge of the table watching the wall where she had written her messages. She hesitated, but there was too much to write for such a simple method of communication.
Pariah headed into the laboratory where Dejen was wiping the frost off the blueprints. He stopped at one of them, studying it intently and tracing the lines with a finger. Pariah suddenly realized that he would probably start making notes with his magical quill. She would have to grab it before then.
She reached out for the quill, focusing her will into her fingertips. She could feel something as she touched the surface of it, a resistance rather than a solid object, but it was something she could concentrate on. She grabbed that resistance as best she could and then, trying to lift her right wrist with her left hand, strained to lift the tool out of his belt. She groaned as she struggled with it, but it started to move.
She managed to lift it out of the holster and it floated in the air. Dejen didn't notice it, so she laboriously lifted it higher and moved it in front of his face. He jumped back with a start. His mouth moved soundlessly and then he said nervously, "Pariah? Is that you?" To himself, he added, "Of course that's her." More loudly he said, "You want to write something? Hmm, well my quill can be used only by me, but I can get you a regular pen and ink. How about that?"
She didn't know how to respond so she bobbed the quill up and down, hoping he'd interpret that as "yes".
It apparently worked because he said, "Very well, let me fetch it from my pack." He reached out his hand and said hesitantly, "Could I have my quill back, please?"
Pariah laid it into his outstretched palm and he slipped it back into its holster before hustling out of the room and out the front door.
"It's about time!" Macreadus grumped.
"We have all the time in the world," she reminded him as she floated into the main room. "I don't think either of us is going anywhere." She looked down at his body and asked, "So how long have you been like," she waved vaguely at his ghostly form, "this?"
"Eight days," he said gloomily. "Hoped Copper might come back to look for me, or some traveler might stop by."
"Actually, Copper was the one who sent us," she said.
"Was it?" He grunted. "It's about time."
She started to ask what had happened between them, but then decided she didn't want to get into that drama. She settled for saying, "He was worried that you weren't taking care of yourself. We brought food, clothing, oil, soap, paper and a few other odds and ends." She smirked and added, "We had hoped you'd reimburse us for the cost, but I can't see that happening."
Macreadus snorted. "Got a little money in a pouch in my bedroom. Your friend's probably found it by now. Might as well take it; it's not like it will do me any good. There's some silver in the workshop I used to forge the Summer Star. Nothing else worth taking except my work." Hotly he added, "And you better not take that! It's mine, and I deserve all the credit when this ends the Everlasting Rime."
"Nobody wants credit for your work," she said tiredly. "And if this ends the Rime, good for you."
"As it should be," he said. "I've worked my whole life expanding our understanding of how arcane and divine forces shape the weather. I deserve to be remembered for that. And I will deserve praise from Lathander when I bring his presence back to Icewind Dale."
Pariah studied him. She never really got the point of credit and fame, but understood it was important to some people. She said, "You say Lathander. I thought Amaunator was worshiped here."
He made a derisive hiss. "I suppose you've been talking to that priest in Bryn Shander. Is that god botherer still preaching her nonsense about the true Morninglord?"
"Not any more," Pariah said, pursing her lips. "The Aurilites murdered her."
He paused, his tirade interrupted. "Oh," he said weakly. "Well, whatever. Yes, I worship Lathander. And I thought I had his blessing. It felt like his will that I found that tower."
"What tower?" she asked.
He gave her a suspicious look and remained silent.
"Oh, for the love of whatever god is listening, why still keep your secrets? My friends will probably help you finish your work in the hope it will stop the Rime. If so, great, and they'll be happy to sing your praises from here to Chult. But we can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on."
Macreadus's face clouded but he said reluctantly, "I guess so." He sighed. "Like I said, none of this is going to do me any good, so you might as well know." He looked around as though to see if anyone was listening. The only one here was Bjarnson, and it was safe to assume he couldn't hear them. Macreadus said, "What do you know about Netheril?"
Pariah hated coincidences. Coincidences were too often the tools of fate. She let out an annoyed groan, which puzzled Macreadus. She said, "I know the broad strokes. You're about the hundredth person I've come across in Icewind Dale who's obsessed with them."
"Oh," he said, seeming disappointed by her reaction to his question. "So then you know the civilization fell." She nodded. He said, "And you know there was rumors that one of the cities was lost here." She nodded again. He continued, "I spent years researching the possible location of the city and developed my own theories about its location. I decided to come here and try my luck finding it."
Macreadus sighed and gazed out the window. "I headed out into the wilderness by myself. I couldn't trust anyone with that secret. I got to the area and I searched and searched and searched, but I found nothing. I prayed every morning for guidance, but I got no answer. Finally I was out of food, I was freezing in the cold. That last dawn I prayed to Lathander and said that, unless I got a sign, I'd have to return to town and abandon my search."
A warm smile appeared on his face. "And then a beam of light shone down from the heavens onto the top of a hill about a half mile off. I investigated and found a strange spur of rock protruding from the top. The surface was smooth, not weathered. I was convinced it was artificial, shaped by magic. I dug into the snow around it and uncovered a narrow tunnel that led underground."
His smile widened into a mad grin. "And I found what I had been searching for!"
Notes:
According to the module, you can appear any way you want to in this limbo state . Macreadus is supposed to be a giant floating head with fire in his eyes, but I found that a little over the top so I adopted the more traditional idea that you look like you did in life. His look was inspired by The Mechanist from Avatar: The Last Airbender.
However, this begs the question "Why didn't he write notes in the soot about what to do?" The answer in the module is "Because he's a big floating head with no hands." Since I removed that, I had to add the idea that the ability to influence your environment fades.
Whenever Pariah was trying to move something or write, I would think of Julian from the BBC version of Ghosts (except for the fact she's wearing trousers).
Chapter 73: Broken Dreams
Summary:
Pariah and Macreadus try to find a way to help the group repair the Summer Star.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 12, 1496 (11 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah was momentarily nonplussed by Macreadus's statement. "You found the lost Netherese city?" she exclaimed.
He hemmed and hawed before admitting, "Well, no. Not exactly. Not the whole thing. I found a tower, just a single tower, buried upside down. It must have broken off the city as it fell and plummeted into the ground to be covered by snow."
Pariah didn't know much about Netheril, but she knew enough to realize that was an amazing find. "That's still a lot," she said.
"It was," he admitted. "I couldn't believe my good fortune, thank Lathander." He sighed heavily. "And yet almost immediately my discovery was marred by bad luck. I didn't have climbing equipment but I figured I could get down the tunnel anyhow. However, the slope was steep and coated in ice. I was unable to stop myself as I slid down. I landed badly at the bottom and broke my leg."
Macreadus looked out the window glumly. "I looked up into the icy tunnel and knew it was going to be a difficult climb out, even more so with my injury." He clenched his fists and yelled, "After years of searching and a sign from Lathander himself, was I really doomed to die there? Was that the cruel joke the universe would play on me?"
He took a breath and let it out slowly. More calmly, he continued, "I explored that first level, hoping to find some treasure that would make this worth my time. This was made more difficult by the fact everything was upside down. I was crawling on the ceiling and had to lift myself up to go into doorways. I didn't dare try to go down to the upper levels."
Macreadus smiled as he pointed to the charred book on the table. "And that's where my good fortune returned. I found a workshop. That's a researcher's journal. I also found the stone that is the heart of the Summer Star. There were a number of other books, but this journal was worth more than all of them because it was about the stone. It seems to be built on the same principal as the mythallars."
Pariah asked, "What are mythallars?"
He gave her a look of contempt. "What are mythallars?" he asked in disbelief. "Don't you know anything?"
"Apparently not," she snapped back at him. "So tell me instead of insulting me."
Macreadus rolled his eyes. Speaking to her like she was a child, he said, "The mythallars were the core of much of the Netherese technology that seemed like miracles. They were enormous crystal spheres hundreds of feet across that could gather and distribute the magic of the Weave on a level unseen either before or since. Magic powerful enough to make cities fly."
"So the stone you found could make a very tiny city fly?" she asked dryly.
He frowned at her. "No," he said in a withering tone. "Although similar to a mythallar, this is more of an anti-mythallar. Rather than gathering magic, it disrupts it, but in a controlled and focused way."
"Controlled and focused," she said sarcastically.
"Under normal use," he replied defensively. "And, to be fair, even the researcher didn't understand the principal. You see, this wasn't Netherese technology. It was something they found in the Sea of Moving Ice. Well, not this, but a much larger artifact. Although the artifact was nearly impossible to damage, they finally managed to break off this small piece for study. He was trying to figure out how to activate it in a limited way, but his fear was even this small piece could have effects reaching for miles."
"What kind of effects?" Pariah asked.
"The disruption of magic," he said, as though it was obvious. "My hope was that this disruptive magic, activated by my mechanism and the blessing of Lathander, could smash through this darkness and cold, breaking Auril's hold on Icewind Dale."
"Huh," Pariah said. She had studied a lot of magical theory and, though she certainly wasn't as much of an expert as Dejen, his speculation sounded reasonable to her. "But it didn't disrupt magic. It exploded."
At first Macreadus frowned in annoyance, and then his scowl faded into a thoughtful expression. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "The disruptive energy was released too quickly and without control."
Dejen came into the room carrying a load of wood on top of which was the stack of paper they had bought in Termalaine. He knelt down to deposit the logs on the floor next to the fireplace. As he took the papers, he said to Bjarnson, "I thought maybe you could start a fire. We may be here a while."
"Good idea," The big man replied, and then he looked at the broken windows speculatively. "We'll have to cover those. At least the wind's not blowing."
Dejen pushed the charred remains of the book aside and then laid the stack of paper down on the table. He fished an inkwell out of a pouch, uncapped it, and then stuck a feather quill into it. "All right, Pariah," he said uncertainly to the air nowhere near where she was standing. "Go ahead."
Pariah rubbed her hands together and said to herself, "Well, let's go."
She took the feather and carefully lifted it out of the ink. It was lighter than his wooden quill, and she was starting to get the hang of manipulating objects.
"THKS," she wrote slowly. "MCRDS HERE TOO. WANTS US TO FIX BALL."
"It's not a ball!" Macreadus barked as he looked over her shoulder.
"This isn't easy," Pariah retorted. "I have to keep things short. I'm not sure how long I can do this before I get tired. He knows what I mean."
Proving her point, Dejen was looking down at the Summer Star uncertainly. "That seems really dangerous. It's just going to explode again."
"It's not going to explode!" Macreadus roared.
"It's exploded twice!" Pariah reminded him angrily. "Now be quiet. I have to concentrate."
She carefully wrote an abbreviated version of what Macreadus had told her already. Dejen was fascinated by the fact he had found a Netherese tower and had a thousand questions; Pariah struggled to keep him on track. They needed to focus on fixing the device. When Dejen ran down to fetch their map, Macreadus reluctantly told her where he had found the tower and she marked it for the others to investigate later. It was about ten miles east of Caer-Konig.
She focused intently on the task at hand, trying to ignore the little voice at the back of her mind. She was dead. She might be trapped in the Material Plane for the moment, but she was dead. She'd never get back to Baldur's Gate. She'd never see her friends again. So far she was handling it well, mostly because she was ignoring it. Eventually those thoughts were going to break through, but for now she kept her mind focused on communicating with Dejen.
By this time, Bjarnson had built fires both in this fireplace and the one in the laboratory, and had gone down to unharness the dogs and bring up their packs. Eberic finished searching the cabin and helped Bjarnson cover the windows. Pariah couldn't feel the cold or the heat, but the others shed their furs so apparently the cabin was warming up. After a while, Zariel came out from the spare bedrooms where she had been meditating and declared that she agreed that fixing the device was what Lathander wanted.
Hours passed as Dejen and Macreadus planned how to fix the Summer Star, with Pariah acting as translator. "Enough!" she finally said. She was exhausted, barely able to hold the weight of a literal feather. "I have to rest for a while. We'll do more later."
Macreadus made a disgusted noise. "You can keep going for a little while," he insisted. "We don't have much time."
"Much time for what? You said it would take a couple of days before that crystal was dangerous again. A few hours won't matter."
"A few hours could be the death of me!" he exclaimed.
She decided not to comment on the absurdity of that statement -- he was upset enough already -- and instead said, "What do you mean?"
He glared at her, huffing in anger even though he didn't breathe. She found she did the same thing; breathing was a habit rather than a necessity. His breaths slowed, finally ending in a sigh. "Because I'm fading," he said softly.
"Fading?"
"I think so. I already told you I can't move things like you can. And I feel like I'm less substantial than I was. I'm afraid that I'm going to dwindle to nothing before my work is done."
"Oh," Pariah said, looking at him. He seemed solid enough to her, at least as solid as anything in this gray, muted world, but she didn't want to dismiss his concerns. She still had no idea why their spirits were trapped here. He had told her before that he'd tried to leave the cabin but he couldn't. He could pass through the walls inside, but the outside walls and even the open door and broken windows were impenetrable barriers.
And since she didn't know why they were here, she didn't know what might happen if he really did fade away. Would he wake up in the City of Judgment, or would he wither into nothingness?
"All right," she conceded. "But I really do need a break." She wanted to sit down but that was just her memory of being mortal not an actual necessity, so she floated awkwardly near the table. "Let's think about what needs to be done. You and Dejen have been talking a lot of theory, but what needs to be done."
He scowled, unsatisfied with her taking a rest, but grudgingly said, "I'll admit that maybe a third ring might allow full control of the magical energies of the crystal. First, someone needs to forge that ring. The forge, tools and raw metal are all in the workshop, but does any of them have the skill?"
"Zariel does, I think," Pariah said. She remembered the woman talking about working with metal.
"And then the magical sigils will have to be inscribed into the ring. That requires a delicate hand and a knowledge of magic."
Pariah nodded. "Dejen can do that. He's a magical tinkerer."
"Oh?" Macreadus said skeptically.
"Yeah. He made those goggles that let him see in the dark. And his crossbow fires magical bolts of fire and sleep and sparkles."
"Sparkles?" he repeated.
"Handy for fighting invisible things," she explained.
Macreadus made a thoughtful noise as he studied Dejen. The dark-skinned man had his goggles pushed up on his forehead, but the magical sigils inscribed were visible. Macreadus looked them over and admitted, "This should suffice."
"Great, then what?"
"Then assemble the array of rings. A new, longer axis rod will have to be forged as well. After that it's a matter of someone moving the rings into a particular configuration and the device should activate, changing the local climate and dispelling the Everlasting Rime.
"The rings should be tighter, shouldn't they?" Pariah asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean they moved when I picked it up. Shouldn't they be harder to turn so they don't accidentally shift?"
"I suppose," he grumbled. "I never realized someone would just grab it like an ape rather than lifting it carefully."
Pariah scowled at him but saw no point in arguing. She asked, "And this will effect all of Icewind Dale?"
"Y...yes," he replied hesitantly.
"You don't sound sure."
He shrugged with an irritated air. "Nobody has studied this kind of magic in two thousand years. I'm making great strides, and have moved this project along far faster than anyone else would have been able to. I'm fairly certain that the radius of this effect will be a couple dozen miles. However I'm positive that it will dispel Auril's curse and end the Everlasting Rime." He smirked. "Or maybe I should say the Not-So-Everlasting Rime."
Pariah wasn't as sure of his plan as he was, but she didn't have any other ideas. Right now, it was their most promising lead. She looked at the Summer Star, now sitting on the table where Dejen had been examining it. She asked, "How long do you think this will all take? You said it takes a day for the charge to build up. I don't want it to blow up while they are trying to fix it."
"It won't do that," he said. She shot him a sour look, and he insisted, "It won't! It releases energy only when the rings are in a particular arrangement. Assembling the new device has no danger of accident. Only once it's fully assembled is it possible to activate the stone, and the third ring will contain the energy."
"We hope," she mumbled.
"To answer your question, I'd say the repairs will take a few hours." He looked out the window into the darkness. The sun had set, as had the crescent moon, so there was little illumination. Even when it had been light, it had been impossible to see more than about fifty feet. Everything faded into a gray mist after that, another side effect of their strange existence. "It depends on whether they want to work through the night or not."
"They probably will," she guessed. "Zariel and Dejen both seem driven enough to want to."
She expected Macreadus to see that as a good thing -- he also seemed like the driven, work-all-night-type -- but he made a snort of contempt. "If they are tired, they are going to make mistakes. None of us want that."
"True," she said. Bjarnson was preparing supper from the food they had brought for Macreadus. "I thought you were in a hurry."
"I guess," he mumbled. "But this is my last chance. If this doesn't work, I'm lost either way."
I guess I'm lost either way, too, Pariah thought. According to both Zariel and Macreadus, Lathander was interested in this project. While Macreadus might be fooling himself regarding divine attention, Zariel seemed like a more trustworthy source. Lulu wasn't back yet so they didn't know what she'd found out asking around on Mount Celestia.
The point was that, if Lathander was watching, then she was probably here for a reason, maybe just because she could hold a quill and keep communications open. Not a very heroic role, but then she'd never really cared about glory or reputation. She just did what needed to be done.
But if that's why she was here, to assist Macreadus in ending the Rime, then her time was over when his time was over. What happened after that? Well, it depended on who you talked to.
It was baffling to her that after thousands of years of mortals and priests and divination magic, there was still no clear idea of what happened to dead souls. It didn't help that the rules changed according to major events like the Spellplague and the Second Sundering. The leading theory was that she'd eventually be taken to an afterlife chosen by the gods, specifically the god she most worshiped. She'd always been free with prayers and donations to various shrines, but if she had to pick a specific deity, it would be Tymora. Even before she'd met Rowan, she'd depended on Lady Luck during her time surviving on the street.
That meant she'd probably end up in the Gates of the Moon, technically Selûne's realm but shared by other deities including Tymora. It was a paradise of islands that floated in a silver sea and in the sky above. She was annoyed that she didn't get a say in her final resting place, even though it sounded like a beautiful place to spend eternity. Better than Stygia, certainly.
She realized that she'd never asked Zariel and Lulu about how the afterlife worked. Presumably they'd know, but then the immortals had always been cryptic about these things. Who knows what they'd actually tell her? Then again, maybe they didn't know. They had been created as celestial beings and might not have bothered with learning the mechanisms of mortal afterlife. She looked over at the stack of blank paper, but it seemed like a complicated conversation for such a difficult medium, and she was too tired anyhow.
After the others had eaten, Zariel summoned Lulu back. They filled her in on the details of the day, and asked if she'd found anything out.
"Not much," she admitted. "I couldn't find out anything about Lathander's interest in this cabin or Icewind Dale in general. He's been wandering and hasn't been to Mount Celestia in a while. I did ask about Pariah and..." She raised her voice. "Pariah, are you there?"
Pariah floated over to the quill and picked it up. She was going to write "YES", but the movement of the quill was enough to inform Lulu that she was listening.
The asteri continued, "I talked to Maroth and he thought you might be in the Border Ethereal. Souls sometimes get stuck there for various reasons. That's why we can't detect you; you aren't actually here on the Material Plane, but on the edge of the Ethereal Plane. It's like you are outside looking through a window, but we can't see through the window. Um, well, sort of."
"Of course," Zariel said. "I should have thought of that."
Pariah moved the quill with effort. "CAN I GET BACK"
"Well...no," Zariel said reluctantly. "You are, as she said, stuck. Something won't let you move on. If we can get you unstuck, then you will continue on your path to the City of Judgment."
That wasn't much of a surprise to Pariah -- she had already assumed that -- but it was still disappointing.
But there wasn't time for moping. They had an artifact to repair. She wrote, "M KNOWS HOW TO FIX STAR. START NOW?"
The group exchanged a look and then Zariel said, "Yes, I think we should get on that as quickly as possible. What do we need to do?"
Pariah took a breath and let it out. This was going to be long. She began writing.
Zariel confirmed that she could fashion the ring, and went into the workshop to start the forge. There was a coal bin next to the woodshed and soon the small forge was burning with intense heat. The ring would be silver like the others; he had several chunks of the metal in his shop.
The hard part would be communicating the magical symbols to Dejen. Pariah didn't know that aspect of magic. Macreadus would describe each symbol, Pariah would draw it as best she could, Macreadus would berate her for getting it wrong, and she'd try again. They repeated this, occasionally stopping to yell at each other, until Macreadus was satisfied with her work. She was exhausted both from the writing and the arguments by the time she was done.
She had been right: Zariel and Dejen had wanted to work through the night. Unfortunately, there were problems. Zariel struggled to get a ring of the right dimensions. Pariah didn't bother communicating Macreadus's unhelpful insults to her, but tried to glean a little helpful advice from his rants. After four tries, she created a ring that met his strict requirements. Pariah wasn't sure if he was being unreasonable or if the device required such narrow tolerances, but she wasn't going to take a chance on getting it wrong.
The central rod was easier to fabricate, since the specifications weren't as critical. It was longer than needed, but that wouldn't hurt anything.
Meanwhile, Dejen carefully inscribed the magical symbols along the new focusing ring. He worked slowly and meticulously, peering through the real-life version of the lenses the ghostly Macreadus wore, and Macreadus grudgingly admitted he was doing a good job. Pariah was glad, since a mistake couldn't easily be erased and would require forging a new ring.
Finally it was time to disassemble the old device and construct the new one. Macreadus insisted this was the easy part, that the device wouldn't be active until it was complete and the rings were in a specific configuration. It was impossible for the stone to release any energy. Despite his assurances, Dejen sweated as he worked on the device with shaking hands. A storm was raging outside, which didn't help the tension in the room.
It was morning, though still dark, before the new Summer Star was finished. The group gathered around the table where it lay, all three rings rotated to the same plane. Dejen and Zariel felt that, before moving the rings to the proper configuration, there should be a ritual to tie the energy to the Weave -- that had been Dejen's idea -- and to interweave the blessing of Lathander -- that had been Zariel's idea. Macreadus harrumphed but said their "frivolous hocus-pocus" wouldn't hurt anything.
After that, the rings would be turned to the proper position in the hope it would send out a pulse of disruptive magic to destroy Auril's curse and end the Everlasting Rime.
"So who's going to activate it," said Eberic. "Dejen?"
"Me?" the man squeaked. "Well, I mean, I built it but that doesn't mean I should be the one to operate it."
Eberic snorted derisively. "You are best qualified. It's time for you to soldier up and do what is needed."
Bjarnson asked drily, "And where are you going to be when it is activated?"
The dwarf stammered, "Well, I figured out behind the wood shed. You know, just in case."
Dejen said, "But why should I be the one to endanger myself? The ritual is simple, and doesn't require magical ability. Anyone could-"
"I'll do it," Zariel interjected. "I trust Lathander to protect me. I agree with Eberic; the rest of you should wait outside in case it does go wrong again. Lulu, you too."
"No," Lulu said. "I should be the one to activate it. It can't kill me, just send me back to Mount Celestia."
"That's true," Zariel admitted reluctantly. To Dejen she said, "Could she do the ritual?"
"I think so," he said uncertainly. "It shouldn't require a mortal's touch or the spark of a soul or anything like that."
"There you go," Lulu said emphatically. "So you all go wait outside. I'll activate it and then we'll go back to Eberic's house to celebrate."
That elicited a chuckle of relief from the group. Bjarnson said, "At least the wind has stopped. We won't be blown away."
"Let's get this over with," Eberic said.
The group filed out of the cabin into the darkness. Zariel was the last to leave. "Be careful," she said to Lulu.
"Its fine," the little angel said. "I can't be hurt on this plane."
"Be careful anyhow," Zariel said. She reached out to touch Lulu's shoulder with a fingertip, and then she went out with the others.
Lulu looked around. "Pariah, you still here?"
Pariah lifted the quill. Of course she was here. She and Macreadus couldn't be hurt, so they were going to stay. She wrote "GOOD LUCK" on the paper.
Lulu started the ritual, which involved prayers and magical incantations, as well as touching the symbols on the outer ring in a particular order. Then she moved the rings into their proper positions, double checking with the diagram Pariah had drawn under Macreadus's instructions. Once active, the device would stay active, which is why it had released the burst of energy when Pariah had picked it up.
The stone started to glow and Pariah felt herself getting nervous. None of them could be hurt, but so much hinged on this device working. She still wasn't sure she believe Macreadus's soul would fade away but she didn't look forward to being trapped with him in this cabin for eternity either. And, of course, breaking Icewind Dale out of this eternal winter was essential. She wasn't sure how much longer even the tough people of Ten-Towns and the Reghed tribes could survive.
The glow grew more intense. This is just what had happened before. It got brighter until it was blinding, though she didn't have to squint this time. The light was bright but muted in her spiritual state. "We could use some good fortune, Tymora," she mumbled, the closest to prayer she got.
And then a wave of radiance burst from the device, and her vision went black.
Notes:
In the module, Macreadus didn't actually find the tower mentioned, but I added that to tie components of the adventure together. And I made up all that stuff about the crystal at the heart of the Summer Star, and changed the effect of the device once activated. The module just vaguely waves in the direction of Netherese technology -- his story about the contents of the book is from the module -- but doesn't give specifics.
Pariah's snarky observations on the confusion about what happens to dead souls is me commenting on Forgotten Realms cosmology.
For example, Lathander doesn't seem to have a Divine Realm. Descent Into Avernus says that Zariel was an angel of Lathander, and she was definitely from Mount Celestia. Celestia is the realm of Lawful Good, but Lathander is Neutral Good. That doesn't mean he doesn't hang out there, but it doesn't completely fit him. Amaunator, the other Morninglord, has the realm Eternal Sun, which used to be in Mechanus but is now in the Astral Sea. The lore is still vague about exactly who Lathander and Amaunator are in relation to each other, which I've complained about before.
Chapter 74: The Murky Veil Lifts
Summary:
The Summer Star has been activated, but to what effect?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 13, 1496 (12 days after the Full Moon)
The world was dark, musty and cold. In a panic, Pariah wondered if her soul had been sent to Stygia after all. She sat up suddenly and a blanket fell away from her face.
She was sitting on the floor of the Black Cabin. The wooden floor and furniture around her were covered in scorch marks. The broken windows had been blocked to keep the cold out, but bright light leaked in from the edges of the panes to illuminate the room. The frigid air bit at her skin. She looked down and realized she was mostly naked. The charred remains of her leather armor and the clothing beneath were falling away from her, exposing her scarred flesh to the elements.
Pariah pulled up the blanket that had fallen, more to keep out the cold than to protect her modesty. She looked around and saw the Summer Star on the table. The stone in the middle had crumbled, leaving an empty cradle of silver with gray fragments scattered about the table. "Lulu?" she called out, but she was alone in the cabin.
She stood and the remnants of her armor fell to the ground. Her boots were in decent shape, a little charred at the top but hanging together. Her sword was on the floor, apparently intact though the sheath was destroyed. Next to the burned remains of her shield lay a single white bead, all that was left of the necklace Avarice had given her. She wrapped the blanket around her as best she could.
Macreadus's body lay there, still covered. She bent down to pull back the blanket; his corpse was still burned, still dead. "Macreadus, are you there?" she asked, looking around for a sign. Nothing moved, but then he'd said he couldn't affect the material world anymore. She hoped this meant his spirit had been released.
She walked to the door and pulled it open. She squinted as light poured into the cabin. She stepped out onto the walkway, the wood creaking beneath her feet. The dogs were scattered around the area in front of the cabin. Several were sheltering in the wood shed, but others were lying in the snow, unbothered by the cold. Her companions were gathered in a group near the shed. Zariel was on her knees, praying fervently towards the east. The others were standing, but staring open mouthed at the sky in the same direction. Pariah leaned out to look up past the eaves and saw the sun shining brightly among scattered clouds that moved lazily across the sky. Although the air was cold, she could feel the warmth of the sun on her face. It was the second time in her life that a blue sky brought tears to her eyes.
"You did it, Macreadus," she said softly.
A gust of wind disturbed her blanket and she pulled it more tightly around her. "Hey!" she called down. "Can one of you bring me another set of clothes from my pack?"
The group turned towards the sound of her voice, and stared at her mutely for a moment. "Pariah?" Bjarnson shouted in wonder. After another moment, they all started running for the stairs, except for Zariel who still knelt in the snow, her hand over her mouth as she stared up at the tiefling. She folded her hands and resumed her prayers.
The walkway groaned and swayed slightly as everyone came pounding up the wooden steps and along the damaged path. "Whoa!" Pariah shouted, holding out a hand to stop them. "I don't think this cabin can take this much excitement. I'd hate to fall into the canyon and die again so soon after coming back to life. Plus I'm naked under this, so maybe save hugs until after someone gets me my clothes."
They had all stopped running towards her at her shout. Eberic, at the rear of the group, said, "I'll bring up your pack." He headed back towards the stairs.
She reentered the cabin; Bjarnson and Dejen followed at a less hectic pace than before. Once they were inside, Bjarnson choked out, "I'm so glad to see you again."
"Very much so," Dejen agreed. Both of them had tears in their eyes.
"At least you're happy to see me," she joked. "Last time I died, everyone was mad."
That got her a confused look from both of them, and she laughed, "Long story. I'll tell you once I'm dressed." She backed towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms -- the blanket didn't completely wrap around her -- and asked, "Where's Lulu?"
"What do you mean?" Bjarnson asked in confusion. "She was up here."
"No," Pariah said, looking around to check again. "I thought she flew down to the rest of you after the Summer Star activated."
"No," the big man said, frowning. "Lulu?" he called out.
Pariah backed further down the hall to look into the bedrooms while Dejen moved towards the blueprint room and Bjarnson ducked out to check in the workshop. She heard them calling her name, but the asteri was nowhere to be found.
"What's going on?" Eberic asked as he entered the cabin carrying Pariah's pack.
"We can't find Lulu," Pariah said as she took the bag from him and backed into the main bedroom. Lulu was fine, she assured herself. Angels can't die on the Material Plane. At least that's what she'd been told. She closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar. "Is Zariel coming up?" she asked through the slight opening.
"She's still down there praying," replied Eberic. "She was pretty overwhelmed by what happened."
"Yeah, me too," Pariah laughed. She dug her spare cold weather outfit out of the pack. "What did happen? I saw everything light up and then I was suddenly back in my body."
"I'm not sure," he said. "A wave of light pulsed out from the cabin, moving so fast across the land that it was out of sight before I blinked. But the weather calmed immediately. The wind died down and the snow stopped blowing. About a minute later, the sun shot up in the sky like it had been fired from a catapult. Zariel went down on her knees and started preaching the glory of Lathander."
Dejen piped up, "My time piece is blank."
The comment confused Pariah. She said, "What?"
"My time piece, that one we got from Culver in Caer-Dineval. I looked at it once the sun came up to see if its position in the sky matched the time, but the stone's face is blank. I don't know how that could be related, but it seems unlikely to be a coincidence. And another thing, my goggles aren't working."
Pariah had finished dressing so she stepped out of the bedroom. "What do you mean?"
Dejen had his goggles off and was peering at the symbols inscribed on the side. "They are supposed to equalize the illumination. Mostly that means they let me see in the dark, but they also reduce glare. And yet when I look at the sun reflecting off the snow, not to mention looking at the sun itself, they do not diminish the light."
She exchanged a look of worry with Eberic. "That's troubling," she said. She walked across the room to grab her sword. She touched the crystal on the end and could feel no trickle of magic through it. She held out her hand, palm facing the wall, and said, "Dzwushk." Nothing happened. No cold moved up her arm, no beam of icy energy shot out. She stared at the wall that was pointedly not covered in frost and said, "I can't do magic."
"Oh?" Dejen said. He pulled out his quill and his crossbow. He aimed at the same spot of the wall, drew a pattern in the air over the weapon and...nothing happened. "Neither can I," he said.
Fast, heavy footsteps made the wooden walkway outside creak dangerously. Zariel burst through the door, Bjarnson close behind her. "Where is Lulu?" she demanded.
"I don't know," Pariah said as her worry started to grow. "I had hoped she had come down to see you. I saw her activate the Summer Star and then I woke up." She waved towards the floor where her body had lain.
Zariel crossed the room quickly with a fierce energy, and Pariah stepped back in surprise. The other woman threw her arms around the tiefling and said into her ear, "I’m glad you're safe."
Pariah laughed, surprised by the intensity of the gesture, and returned the hug. "Yeah, me too."
Zariel pulled back and looked at her intensely. "And though I am greatly relieved to see you again, I need to know that Lulu is safe as well."
"Of course," Pariah said. "But celestials can't die here, right?"
The other woman stepped back. "That's true. Perhaps she somehow went back to Mount Celestia." She reached out and drew a circle in the air. Nothing happened. Confused, she did it again with the same result.
"And that's something else," Pariah said. "None of us can do magic."
Zariel stared, her mouth hanging open slightly. Behind her, Bjarnson frowned and turned towards the dying fire in the fireplace. He reached out towards the flames and mumbled something softly. Nothing happened. "Me too," he said in concern.
Zariel seemed to be overwhelmed. After a moment, she drew her sword and held it before her. She stared at it but nothing happened. "There is no magic in my weapon," she said. "The blessing of Lathander is gone." Angrily she demanded, "How can this be?"
Pariah had no answers so she turned to Dejen. "You're the expert on magic here. What do you think?"
"I don't know," he stammered. "It seems likely it's related to the Summer Star, but since I'm unsure of its operation I don't know what the effect is or how long it will last."
Pariah tried to remember her conversation with the cabin's late resident. "Macreadus said that stone," she gestured towards the shards that had fallen to the table around the Summer Star, "was based on the same principal as mythallars. But he said it didn't gather magic; it disrupted it." She hadn't gone into all the details of his theory when she had been struggling to write.
Dejen followed her gaze. "Oh," he said very softly. "I suppose that could explain it."
She looked back and forth between the device and Dejen. "Please tell me we didn't break magic."
He gave her a confused smile. "I shouldn't think so. Not in any serious way." His smile faded into a gloomy expression. "At least I hope not. It's a very small stone. The mythallars were enormously powerful, but also hundreds of feet across. If such a small stone was able to disrupt magic, it couldn't have gone far."
"Macreadus said at least a couple of dozen miles."
"That's amazing," he said in wonder. "But even after Karsus's Folly, which disrupted magic across the entire world, the Weave was restored a short time later. Surely this device's effect is only temporary. I'm sure our magic will be back soon. Minutes even." His tone was not confident.
"But that wouldn't have hurt Lulu, right?" Pariah asked Zariel.
"No," Zariel said uncertainly. "But it might have severed her connection to this plane. I will have to re-establish it, but that will take time." She frowned. "And magic. I suppose we will have to hope the magic returns."
"You know better than any of us that she should be all right," Pariah consoled her, though she didn't feel so sure herself. "She isn't a creature of magic like a..." Pariah struggled for an example and then remembered what they had found in the room of blueprints. "Like a homunculus," she finished.
"I know you're right," Zariel said, her face twisted with worry. "I just want to know she's safe."
"Me, too," Pariah said emphatically. "Remember that she survived Hell. Twice. She can survive a little burst of magical disruption."
Pariah's comment seemed to make Zariel sad rather than providing relief, but the woman nodded. "I suppose so."
Eberic said, "Is there any point in staying here? We've done what needs to be done. Maybe it's time we headed home."
"I guess," Pariah said. Then an idea occurred to her. "Could Lulu be trapped in the Border Ethereal like we were? If so, then I don't want to leave her behind."
"I don't think so," Zariel replied, though again her tone was uncertain. "I believe such a fate is reserved for mortal souls, not for celestials." She huffed in frustration. "I only wish I could be certain what happened to her."
"Lulu," Pariah called out. "If you're there, go to the quill. Just lift it out of the inkwell. Or move some of the stone fragments on the table. Anything to let us know you are there."
The group gathered around the table, watching for any change. Time passed but nothing moved.
Eberic said, "That seems to prove that she's not here."
"Maybe," Pariah said.
"So we should go?" he said again.
Pariah was surprised by his insistence, but then she remembered that, unlike the rest of them, he had a home to go to. "I guess so," she said. "Do we want to bury Macreadus here or take him with us? We could bury him in Termalaine or Bryn Shander."
Bjarnson said, "The winter might be over, but the ground outside is still hard and frozen. It will be days if not weeks before it's possible to dig a grave. Plus this place..." He shuddered. "This place still feels wrong to me. I think it would be best to take him out of here. Copper would probably know if he has any family in Ten-Towns."
"True," she agreed.
Dejen said hesitantly, "I would like to take his work: the blueprints, that device, even the notes you made while you were...um...away."
"Is that thing safe?" Eberic asked.
"I would think so," Dejen replied, leaning over the Summer Star and peer at the symbols. "The power was in the stone. In fact, I want to gather those fragments for study. Even these crumbs might still have some kind of amazing properties."
Pariah looked down at Macreadus's covered corpse. "He was very possessive of his work," she warned him. "I mean I guess the important thing, to him at least, was getting the credit for it." Quickly she added to Dejen, "Not that you'd steal it, but he was very focused about getting credit, from the people and from Lathander."
Zariel said, "I'm sure that Lathander is quite pleased that his influence has returned to Ten-Towns, and will reward Macreadus for his role."
Pariah rubbed her face tiredly. "As for anything else in the cabin, he said we are welcome to it." She looked around the dilapidated structure. "I suppose we could leave the lumber and tools in case the next visitor wants to repair the place. Maybe the blankets and some of the less perishable food." She looked down at herself. "At the very least I'm going to see if he has any furs around." Her old furs purchased from Torg's were poor quality, so she hoped to find something better.
Dejen went into the laboratory and started taking the blueprints off the wall and rolling them up. The others stood around awkwardly; nobody seemed interested in looting the place. While Pariah could respect that, she also didn't see a reason to leave anything of value behind for scavengers. "It's not like this stuff is going to do him any good," she reminded them.
"I suppose that's a point," Eberic said. "I did find a few coins in the bedroom."
"Yeah, he said we could take that," Pariah remembered. "And the rest of the silver in the workshop, if there's any left."
Zariel said, "There were a few ounces left after I was done."
"I'm going to go take a look," the tiefling said and she headed out the door and down the walkway towards the workshop.
The forge flame had been extinguished, but the room still held a lot of residual heat. She found a small ingot of silver as well as a few shards that had been filed off the final ring. She didn't bother with the latter. She looked over the tools but they didn't seem like anything special, at least until she noticed a rod about as long as her forearm and twice as thick as her thumb. It was made of reddish brown wood, or at least that's what she thought. She picked it up and it felt more like stone, except it didn't really feel like stone either. It had a hexagonal cross section and dull metal caps on each end. A word was written on one of the faces, but it was an alphabet she didn't recognize, and her ability to read anything didn't seem to be working at the moment.
She studied each part of it, but couldn't deduce its purpose. It didn't seem to be a tool. The design seemed too simple to be decorative. It wasn't heavy enough to be a club. She wondered if it were some kind of magic wand. Maybe Dejen would know.
Pariah tapped the walls, hoping to find a hidden compartment, but nothing revealed itself. She debated about poking into the nest in the bookcase, but didn't want to disturb whatever might be lurking in there. With her meager treasure in hand, she exited, secured the door behind her, and walked back towards the main room of the cabin.
Bjarnson and Eberic were dousing the fires in the two fireplaces. Dejen was carefully brushing the fragments of the stone from the Summer Star onto a sheet of paper, and Zariel was pacing restlessly. Pariah went up to Dejen and held out the rod she'd found. "Does this look like anything to you?"
"Hmm?" he asked, not looking up from his task. "One moment." He finished collecting the fragments and then carefully set the paper on the table and folded it up into a tight package, which he placed into a pocket. "What have you got there?" he asked.
She held the rod out to him and he bent down to peer at it. "What is it?" he asked her.
"That's what I'm asking you," she said. "I found it in his workshop."
He made thoughtful noises as he took it from her and turned it over. "This is Netherese writing," he said.
"Oh, right, it is," she said. She thought it had looked familiar. It was the same alphabet as the burned book on the table, and the book that had been open on Avarice's desk. "I don't suppose you read Netherese."
"No, I'm afraid not," he said.
She took the object back from him. "Well, this seems important, or at least valuable, so we might as well take it with us."
"Culver might be interested in it," he said.
"That's a possibility," she replied, though she didn't really think he'd know anything. Avarice might be able to help, but Pariah wasn't sure she wanted to show the woman a Netherese artifact. Well, that was something to figure out later. She headed into the bedroom to put it into her pack.
The dogs suddenly started barking and howling outside. The walkway creaked as rapid footsteps pounded against the wooden surface. At first she thought one of the others had run outside, but she realized the sounds were getting closer not farther. She opened her mouth to call out a question to those in the main room, when Eberic yelled, "Look out!"
Notes:
As I mentioned last chapter, I changed the function of the Summer star to better fit with other aspects of the story. The original item casts a control weather spell but that wouldn't bring the sun back, and wouldn't reach very far. This magical disruption makes more sense to me.
I also added a few things to the cabin, like the rod that will be identified later.
Chapter 75: The Rage of the Black Ice
Summary:
Pariah is alive again, but magic has suddenly stopped working and someone is attacking the cabin.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 13, 1496 (12 days after the Full Moon)
"Destruction to all enemies of Winter's Fury!" a man bellowed. Pariah bent down to peek through the fireplace that led between the bedroom and the main room to see two men had burst into the cabin. They wore tattered clothing, no furs, and were barefoot. Both had unkempt red hair and beards matted with ice. Their bare skin was blackened with clear signs of frostbite. One of them had Eberic backed into the far corner next to the door, and was hacking at him with a battleaxe. The other had advanced into the main room and was facing Bjarnson and Zariel with a flail. The heads of their weapons were made of dark crystal: chardalyn. From the crazed look in their eyes, it seemed obvious they had been corrupted by the insidious evil of the black ice.
"The sun will never prevail against the might of the Frostmaiden," the flail-wielder bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth as his weapon slammed against the symbol of Lathander etched on Zariel's shield.
Pariah's sword was on the table out in the main room. Her shield and armor were both gone, burned to charred remnants. Thankfully her bow was attached to the side of her backpack, which sat on the bed. She grabbed that and her quiver and rushed out into the room.
She stopped at the end of the short hallway and drew an arrow back. Dejen had retreated to the laboratory and was taking shots with his crossbow at the berserker by the door. Pariah started to draw a bead on the nearer attacker, the one engaged with Zariel, but then the axe wielder landed a powerful sideways blow on Eberic's chest that sliced through his leather cuirass. The dwarf dropped his dagger with a gasp and grabbed at the blood spilling out from the wound as he slumped down the wall to sit on the floor.
"Hey!" Pariah yelled, loosing an arrow. It buried itself in the axeman's back but the attacker didn't even flinch.
He threw his head back and bellowed, "We kill for you, Auril. Fill me with your divine power!" He threw his arms back as though he expected a blessing to rain down on him from the heavens, but nothing happened.
Eberic had both hands pressed against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was panting and even from this distance Pariah could see his skin was as pale as snow. Unfortunately he was next to the weak area of the floor, and the only safe path to him was blocked by the axeman. With no healing magic available, he'd have to hold on until they could defeat these attackers.
Zariel shouted "The light is stronger than the darkness!" She put her shield up and charged the flail wielder. He was big and broad, but so was she. Although he planted his feet, his bare soles slid along the floor. The wood beneath him started to groan and sag, and suddenly several of the planks collapsed. He screamed as he fell through the crumbling floor and down into the canyon below. Zariel stood teetering on the edge of the drop, flailing her arms for balance.
Eberic mumbled something before his hands dropped to his side and his eyes closed. Pariah wasn't sure if he was dead or unconscious. All she could do is continue firing at the axeman. The attacker ignored her as he raised his axe to issue what would have certainly been a killing blow. Pariah drew another arrow, trying to keep her calm while she aimed, but Bjarnson rushed forward with a roar. He brought his sturdy quarterstaff down across the back of the man's skull with a loud crack. "Get off him, you coward!"
The attacker whirled on him in a rage. "Feel the goddess's fury!" he yelled as he launched a flurry of blows at Bjarnson. The big man tried to fend off the attacks with his staff, backing away as he did, but the man's ferocity was not easily hindered. He took the flat of the axe head to his face, and another hit opened a wide gash in his left upper arm.
Zariel had regained her footing and turned to assist Bjarnson, but he said, "I've got this. Help Eberic!"
She hesitated, but then rushed past the enemy towards the dwarf who was lying limp in the corner. The axeman whirled on her, landing a powerful two-handed blow on her back. It didn't break through her heavy armor, but it staggered her and she gasped for breath.
Pariah sunk another arrow into the man's leg, and Bjarnson whacked his arm with his staff while he yelled, "Auril's a weak little bitch!"
The taunt worked, and the man turned his fury on Bjarnson. The latter retreated slowly across the room while Pariah and Dejen sunk missiles into the attacker's flesh, but he continued to attack with unstoppable rage.
Zariel knelt down next to Eberic and pressed down on his chest wound. She pleaded, "Lathander, please let me heal this man," but no magic came, no healing glow appeared. All she could to is try to staunch the bleeding.
She then looked down into the hole in the floor and called out, "The other one is climbing back up the cliff."
"Talona's tits," Pariah hissed through gritted teeth. Bjarnson was weakening against the savage attack. Zariel was busy trying to keep Eberic alive. She wanted to help them both, but the last thing they needed was another attacker.
She saw the heavy wooden table next to the weak area of the floor and a desperate idea formed in her head. She dropped her bow and ran over. "Dejen, help me with this table."
Her saber was resting on the table's surface. She swept it off, not wanting to lose it in this next maneuver, and started pushing the table towards the hole. It was heavy and the floor surface was rough so it took all her effort to get the table to move at all. "Help me!" she snapped at Dejen who was dithering in the doorway to the laboratory.
He came out and took up a position next to her. The legs of the table scraped across the uneven planks of wood towards the hole. The floor started to sag and Pariah prayed it would hold long enough. They pushed the table out over the opening in the floor until gravity was able to take hold. They leapt back as the near end of the table tilted up, nearly catching her across the chin, and the entire thing fell through the collapsed floor. They heard it crashing down the steep slope, and a scream told them that it had hit its mark.
Pariah leapt across the edge of the hole to land near Zariel. "I've got him," she said. "Go help Bjarnson."
Zariel took her bloody hands away from Eberic's wound and nodded acknowledgement. She drew her sword and held it in both hands, her shield still on the ground. "For the glory of the Morninglord," she bellowed as she charged at the attacker.
Pariah pressed all of her weight down on the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, but she wasn't sure the pressure was getting through the stiffened leather armor. He was still breathing weakly, and she took comfort from that, but he might be seconds away from death. The fight was behind her and she didn't dare turn away to see what was going on. She heard a heavy body fall but the fight continued, so that meant either Zariel or Bjarnson had gone down. She ground her teeth but she had to trust that Dejen and the survivor could finish the battle. If she left Eberic's side, he would certainly die and there had been enough deaths in this cabin.
Another body hit the ground and then silence filled the cabin. Pariah called out, "Who's still standing?"
"I am," Dejen said in a shaky voice.
"As am I," Zariel panted. "But Bjarnson is badly hurt and unconscious, and Lathander's power doesn't flow through me at the moment."
The lack of magic was a problem, but Pariah had lived a long time in a dangerous city without access to healing spells. "Dejen, go and get Bjarnson's pack. He had healing stuff. And Eberic did too, I think. Get them both."
"Yes, all right," he said, his tone still weak and dazed. He hurried out the door.
Pariah still couldn't turn around to see what was going on behind her. "Zariel, is Bjarnson bleeding?"
"A little, but not seriously. But he took a bad blow to the head from the haft of the axe so I suspect a concussion."
Pariah's arms were starting to tire, but she kept the pressure on the wound. "We'll need to get the fires going again," she said, her voice starting to break. "I don't know how easy it's going to be to keep this room warm with that big hole in the floor. We might have to move them into the bedroom, but I can't move Eberic yet."
She could feel the panic rising in her but tried to stay calm. In the last day she'd literally died and been brought back to life, and yet her emotions through that had been muted. Maybe it had been shock or maybe it was the fact she'd been to Hell and back that made her so blasé about her own mortality. But now, holding Eberic's life in her hands, Bjarnson unconscious and possibly dying behind her, and Lulu missing, all the emotions were bubbling up. She had to remain focused and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She had to just put one foot in front of the other if she was going to save her friends.
Bjarnson made a pained groan and raised a hand to his head. He was lying in Macreadus's bed along with Eberic, who was still unconscious. Pariah was sitting in a chair next to him trying to read, but she was too distracted with worry to be able to make sense of the book. She closed it and put it in her lap, and then reached out to grip Bjarnson's hand.
"You're awake!" she said in relief.
Dejen and Zariel were dozing in front of the fire, though they stirred at the noise. They were trying to catch up on lost sleep, and Pariah had agreed to stay up and keep an eye on the injured men. They had closed the door to keep the heat in and the room was now comfortably warm, not to mention well lit from the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The two of them rose and came over to stand at the foot of the bed and smile down at Bjarnson.
The big man looked them over muzzily and greeted her with a "Hey." He pushed himself up until he was sitting against the wall, wincing in pain. "Oh, my head," he groaned, putting a hand up to his forehead again.
"You took a pretty bad crack to the skull," Pariah told him. "Luckily you are hard headed; I don't think there's a fracture, but I imagine you're going to have a pretty bad headache for a while." She added, "Well, when I say no fracture, I mean your skull. Your nose is broken."
He moved his hand to touch to end of his nose and winced again. He looked awful. His nose was swollen, he had two black eyes, and a bad bruise on one jaw. They'd cleaned up the blood that had been coming from his nose as best they could, but some was still dried in his mustache and beard, dark brown against the red hair. Other bruises on his chest and arms were hidden by his clothes.
Bjarnson looked down at Eberic lying next to him. "How's he?"
"He seems stable," Pariah sighed, "but I’m not sure how bad his injuries are. We found your healing stuff but none of us know what to do with it. I thought you could look at him if...when you woke up." The last sentence trailed off into a question.
"Of course," he said wearily. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, still squinting. "My vision is a little blurry, and is it really bright in here?"
"No," Pariah said hesitantly. "Normal daylight." The sun had been moving across the sky as normal and was now streaming through the east-facing windows.
He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. "Must be the head injury. Well, fetch me my things and maybe see if you can find a bowl in this place."
"You going to mix up a healing draught or something?" Pariah asked as Dejen headed out the bedroom door and Zariel went to Bjarnson's pack; they had brought up all the packs from the sleds since they thought they might be staying the night.
"No, but I don't want to stain these nice blankets when I puke." He blew out a breath and closed his eyes. "Feeling pretty queasy."
"Yeah, you already let fly when we were moving you," Pariah said. "You narrowly missed owing me a new pair of boots," she joked.
"Sorry," he sighed. "What about the rest of you?"
Zariel handed him his healing bundle from his pack. "We're fine," she assured him.
Pariah snorted. "She's a big liar. She was one bad hit from being the third person in that bed. But me and Dejen are all right. And the dogs are fine. I fed them a little bit ago."
"Good, good," he said as he started unwrapping his bundle and squinting at the contents.
He was weak and dizzy so was unable to examine Eberic thoroughly, but he talked them through what needed to be done. They replaced their makeshift bandage with a clean one, rubbing a thick layer of salve into the wound before wrapping it up. They were all relieved when Eberic said, "Ow!" as Zariel was tying the bandage, and he pushed her away. He opened his eyes and looked up at them. "What're you all hovering over me for?" he groused.
A sigh of relief went around the group. Eberic started to sit up, but groaned in pain and sunk back into bed. He looked around. "Looks like we didn't lose anyone. That's something, I guess."
"And nobody else has attacked the cabin," Pariah pointed out. "I didn't say anything, but I have to admit I was worried Auril might send others."
Dejen said, "You think Auril sent them?"
She shrugged. "I guess so. They were raving about her, killing for her. I figure they were sent either by her or whoever's running the cult now that Janus is dead."
Bjarnson leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "They weren't part of the same group in Bryn Shander, not part of the main cult. They're a group of berserkers from the Tribe of the Bear that are holed up in the Spine of the World and send raiding parties out across Icewind Dale. They use weapons made from black ice and it's driven them insane. They worship Auril and show their devotion by refusing to dress warmly, taking it even farther than the cultists in town do. They are ravaged by frostbite that would kill any normal warrior, and yet they are nearly unstoppable."
Eberic let out a heavy sigh. "It was like that in Dwarven Valley when Hammerstone and his people split from the rest of the dwarves. They used armor and weapons make of the black ice, and it drove them just as mad."
"About those weapons," Zariel said, "are they dangerous to us? I felt sick when I was wounded. The feeling passed quickly, but I worry about some kind of lingering corruption." Pariah could hear the anxiety in her voice.
"No, there is no lasting effect," he assured her. "We experienced the same thing in the valley. Warriors reported feeling ill, but the sensation passed and none of them were corrupted. It takes long and close exposure to the material to feel its corrupting effects." He lifted his head and looked around the room. "Where are those weapons?" he asked.
"We tossed them into the canyon," Pariah said, "along with the body of the second attacker."
Eberic laid his head back again and closed his eyes. "I don't know if we should leave them; the weapons I mean. Someone who doesn't know how dangerous they are could find them. We could take them to Easthaven, or anywhere else that might have a vault to store the stuff."
"I suppose that makes sense," she said. "It's not dangerous to keep them with us?"
He made an uncertain noise and said, "Wrap them in a blanket or something. Don't touch them. Keep some distance, even an arm's length will do, and it should be fine."
"All right," she said reluctantly. She didn't really want to be bogged down with cursed objects -- she'd done that before -- but she didn't want to leave them for others to find either. "We'll do that before we leave. And on that subject, when do we want to leave? We," she waved to indicate herself, Dejen and Zariel, "didn't want to move you while you were unconscious. I don't know if we should stay the night here and give you a chance to rest or if we should head back to Termalaine."
Eberic was falling back to sleep, and said drowsily, "I want to go home."
Bjarnson frowned in thought. "I think that might be best," he said. "The two of us can rest on the sled, though I don't think either of us is up to driving."
"I can drive," Pariah said. She raised her eyebrows at the other two.
"I will take the other sled," Zariel said. "I think I can manage."
Bjarnson looked towards the windows. "What time is it?"
Pariah stepped over to look up at the sky she could see, and then at the shadow of the cabin on the snow. "A bit past midday," she guessed. "I know it's only a couple hours' trip, but we should get moving if we want to get back before sunset."
"We have time," Bjarnson said. "It's summer. When some goddess isn't messing with things, the sun doesn't set until nearly midnight, and night is only a couple of hours long."
"Really?" Pariah said in astonishment. She had never heard of such a thing.
He smiled tiredly at her. "The downside is it's the reverse in the winter: nights are long and the sun appears only briefly. But then you've seen that side of Icewind Dale."
"Well, that's good. Gives us a little time." She looked around the room. "Dejen, how about if you and I go fetch the chardalyn weapons. Zariel, you stay here. When we get back, I'll harness the dogs and we can get moving." She looked glumly around the dilapidated room. "I, for one, want to get away from this evil place. I have to admit, I kind of hope the whole thing collapses into the river." Then, not wanting to bring bad fortune to the group, she looked up and said loudly towards the ceiling, "But only after we've left."
Notes:
This was not the attack described in the module, but I changed it because of the burst of magic disruption that I added. This was already a Deadly attack, but we have the added complication that nobody has magic (including smite and wild shape), and Pariah has neither armor nor shield. I ran it fair, but MAN I was tempted to tweak some rolls. Lots of crits on both sides. This was probably the roughest combat they've had so far in this module.
Then I sat down to write it and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It captured the nail biting tension I had been feeling. Both Bjarnson and Eberic went down, the latter in the first round of combat followed by a nat 1 on his first Death Save! Zariel is at 6 HP. It's going to be a long recovery with my adjusted resting rules.
I hadn't planned to use the weak floor as part of the battle, since it seemed a little cheesy. However, when I realized how powerful the opponents were, and how weak the PCs were, I figured I had to. Even then, the 120-foot fall wasn't enough to kill him! I really liked the visual of them pushing the table over the cliff to take that guy out.
It also gave me an opportunity to have Pariah deal with some emotions. I was unsatisfied at how "meh" she came across after dying and being brought back. I had planned to go back and insert some angst, but having to face the possibility of her companions dying brought these feelings up and felt very natural.
I mentioned that I wasn't going to use the Lingering Injury system I created for Avernus, but I've decided I will...except when I won't. I figured with both Eberic and Bjarnson going down, I wanted to add some lingering effect. The result is Bjarnson is going to have some minor problems for a week, and Eberic is going to have serious problems for closer to three weeks. Bjarnson and Zariel can use their healing magic to speed up the healing process, but I'm also using my variation on Gritty Realism so they still have to be careful about their resources.
Chapter 76: Winter's End
Summary:
The group leaves the Black Cabin and heads back to Termalaine under the light of the warm summer sun.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 13, 1496 (12 days after the Full Moon)
As the sleds glided across the snow, Pariah took one hand off the reins to adjust her makeshift snow goggles. She didn't like how much they limited her vision, but she trusted that Bjarnson knew what he was talking about. Before they had left, he had cut up a leather apron from Macreadus's workshop to make eye protection for all of them. Pariah was wearing something shaped like a blindfold but with slits cut horizontally to let her see. It greatly restricted her field of vision, and that left her frequently looking around to ensure nothing snuck up on them, but he assured her it was vital to protect against snow blindness. The bright sun reflecting off the snow could burn the backs of her eyes, causing pain, swelling and obscured vision.
It didn't fit that well, but it was meant as a temporary measure to get them back to town safely. Once he had more time, he would be able to make something that would be more comfortable and last longer.
She was also wearing a set of wool clothing and furs found in the cabin, since hers had been burned up, and her backup set were the poor quality ones they'd gotten from Torg's. She had been surprised by the quality of Macreadus's clothing. They weren't just well made; they looked like they'd never even been worn. Macreadus -- or at least his spirit -- had been tall and stocky, and yet his clothes fit her slender frame like they'd been tailored to her.
Other than the inconvenience of the goggles, the trip back to Termalaine was uneventful. The sky was blue, the sun was bright, and the only wind came from the speed of their travel. The dogs bounded ahead, full of energy, and the sled raced over the field of snow. She knew she was probably imagining it, but the sickly trees to their right seemed to be stretching up towards the sun, grateful for the energy after the long, dark winter. She certainly wasn't imagining the wildlife. She saw more birds, hares and foxes on this trip than she'd seen in her entire time in Icewind Dale. It was like nature was coming out of hibernation which, to be fair, it was. She felt a thrill of hope as she looked across the bright landscape. One problem solved. That just left the duergar and Levistus's cult.
Bjarnson was behind her on the sled, lying down among the packs and covered in furs and blankets. He wasn't moving, which wasn't that surprising. He had insisted that he was past the worst of it, but she still worried about him. She was debating about stopping long enough to check on him but, as though reading her intention, he gave her a thumbs up. She nodded at him and turned back forward.
Zariel's sled was in the lead so that she could set the pace. They had started off slow as she got used to controlling the dogs, and then sped up as she got more comfortable. After all, the dogs did most of the work. The drivers were there mostly to keep them pointed in the right direction.
Eberic was behind her, sitting up although his head was slumped forward as though he were asleep. Dejen was behind him facing backwards to watch their cargo. On a rope attached to the frame of the sled was a blanket-wrapped bundle being dragged along the snow, bouncing around a bit. The bundle contained the chardalyn weapons. Eberic had assured them that such a precaution wasn't necessary -- it took days around the weapons before the corrupting effect took hold -- but they were all a little nervous about them. Pariah had seen what a cursed weapon could do to a person, so had been the strongest advocate for playing it safe.
They came around the curve of the Lonelywood to see the mill on the edge of town, though it was still a couple of miles off. It was a welcome sight. Pariah suddenly felt the weight of fatigue bear down on her as events of the last two days caught up with her. She was glad they'd come back rather than staying at the cabin. It would be good to relax in Eberic's home while they planned their next move.
Zariel slowed her sled and waved Pariah alongside. The tiefling closed the distance and slowed as she came abreast. They were still moving, but at a walk rather than a run. "What's up?" she asked.
It was Eberic who answered. "There's no smoke at the mill. There's always smoke when it's running."
Pariah studied the building, remembering the thick column of smoke that came from the central chimney. At the moment, the sky above the mill was clear. They were still too far away to see if there was any movement in the mill yard.
"Maybe they're celebrating," she said.
"Maybe," he said, the worry thick in his tone. "I'd feel a lot better if they hadn't been attacked right before we left. And if we hadn't been attacked at the cabin. Maybe Auril is settling a score."
Pariah scanned the area ahead again, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Well, there's only one way to find out," she said.
"Yeah," he replied. "We should be ready, though."
She looked him over. "We're in no shape for a fight."
"I'm fine," he said, and then he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't even stand without leaning on the frame of the sled. "Ready to fight," he panted.
"Whoa!" Pariah said, though she was talking to the dogs rather than him. The team slowed to a stop and Zariel followed suit. Pariah gave Eberic a stern look and said, "Charging in recklessly isn't going to help anyone. Let's get closer and see, but if anything is happening we should back off rather than fighting."
He set his jaw. "I have to be sure Marrit is all right."
Pariah let out a grunt of comprehension. "Of course," she said, feeling stupid. "Sorry, I didn't even think of that. OK, then if we see anything bad is happening, we charge through and get to your house."
He gave her a firm nod and a grunt.
She said, "Now sit down. We don't need you falling out of the sled."
He glared at her defiantly for a moment, and then relented. "Fine," he mumbled and slumped back down into a sitting position, though his eyes were still alert.
Pariah took off her snow goggles; she couldn't risk having her vision blocked if something happened. She squinted against the brightness of the snow but she could handle the glare for a little while. Zariel did the same.
The two women got the dog teams moving again, but kept them at a walk as they approached the mill. Nothing moved and even the wind was still. They reached the road that led left to the mine and right to town, and could see no people in either direction. The mill itself was silent, its machinery unmoving. The main doors were open and there were no lamps lit inside, though the sun illuminated the interior well enough to see it was empty.
They turned down the road towards town. It wasn't long before Eberic said, "I hear something ahead. It sounds like lots of people yelling."
Pariah strained and could barely hear what he was talking about. She wasn't even sure it was yelling, just that it was some kind of noise. To Zariel she said, "Remember, we aren't stopping to fight. Just charge through to Eberic's house."
The woman nodded grimly.
As they continued down the road, the sound became more distinct. It was definitely loud voices, but it was hard to hear what they were saying. It was just the babble of many people shouting over each other. She couldn't hear the sounds of battle, though. Eventually she started to sense some structure in what she was hearing, and she relaxed with a grin.
They were singing.
It was the distinctive sound of a drunken mob singing at the top of their lungs, one of those songs that not everyone knew the words to, but everyone was belting out as loudly as they could. She chuckled at Eberic, "Like I said: celebrating."
They entered the town proper and discovered the noise was coming from The Eastside Inn. The doors were wide open, the crowd inside spilling out into the yard in front. The mead was clearly flowing as they cheerfully whooped out a tavern tune. She couldn't make out all the words, though she did hear references to the end of winter and the sun of spring.
Eberic had pulled himself up to his knees, holding onto the frame of the sled, and was scanning the crowd. "I still want to get home," he said.
Pariah agreed. She was certainly willing to celebrate, but Eberic and Bjarnson needed to get to bed, and Zariel probably should as well. And, of course, they wanted to be sure that Marrit was safe.
The two sleds continued past the revelry, turned onto the road to Eberic's house, and brought the sleds to a stop outside. The dwarf had pulled himself to his feet and was off the sled the instant it stopped. He stumbled, and Dejen managed to catch him, though both men were in danger of spilling to the ground.
Pariah was worried that he was going to hurt himself further, so she said, "I'll go get her." She sprinted towards the house, up the steps and opened the door. She took a breath to call out, but saw Marrit sitting in the living room, looking up in surprise.
"We're back," Pariah said. Marrit beamed and looked past Pariah, who said, "He's coming, he's just moving slow right now."
"Is he all right?" the dwarven woman asked in a worried tone as she stood.
"He's fine," Pariah lied. "He's just a little...dented."
Marrit hustled across the room and Pariah stood aside to let her out the door. Eberic was making his way towards them, leaning heavily on Dejen who was struggling against his weight. Zariel was trying to provide the same support to Bjarnson, but it was more that they were each leaning on each other.
Marrit rushed out and threw her arms around her husband. He groaned in pain and said, "That hurts," though he said it gently.
"Suffer," she said lightly and didn't let him go. He returned the tight embrace. After a bit she pulled away to look at his face with concern. She nodded towards the sky. "Was this you?"
"A little," he grunted. "Long story."
"Well, let's get you inside." Then, realizing Eberic wasn't the only injured party, added, "Let's get all of you inside. I have some stew on the stove to warm you up."
With Eberic and his wife leading the way, the others stumbled into the house, exhaustion and injuries catching up with all of them. Once the injured people were settled, Pariah and Dejen fetched the group's belongings from the sleds while Marrit started ladling out hot soup and pouring tea for everyone. They left Macreadus's corpse on the sled. Pariah considered leaving the black chardalyn weapons where they were, but she was concerned about their effect on the dogs, and worried that some curious passerby might take them. So she took the bundle and dumped it around the back of the house to be fetched later. She knew the dogs needed to go to the kennel, but that could wait until after they had eaten and rested a bit.
They went back in the house, shed their furs and weapons, and joined the others who were crowded around the table in the kitchen. Pariah hungrily dug into the stew of moose meat, blubber chunks, turnips and seaweed. Bubbles of fat floated in the flavorful brown broth.
Marrit was still on her feet, saying, "Anybody want anything else? Lulu, I know you don't really eat, but do you want..." She trailed off as she looked around the room in confusion. "Where's Lulu?"
The festive mood in the room immediately darkened, and Marrit raised a hand to her mouth in horror. Zariel said quickly, "We think she is safe. Celestials like her can't die on this plane. We think this disruption of magic has cut her off, returned her to Mount Celestia."
"You think," Marrit said.
"Yes," Zariel replied reluctantly. "I am nearly certain she is safe, but I too would like to confirm that she is."
"All of us would," Pariah agreed. "I've known her since before we came to Icewind Dale, and Zariel has been her friend for...well, a very long time."
Marrit had moved to stand behind her husband and put her hands on his shoulders. "We'll all pray that the gods keep her safe. But what did you mean about disruption of magic?"
Pariah was surprised by the question at first, but then realized most people wouldn't have noticed that side effect yet. Magic might permeate the lives of adventurers, but the average citizen encountered that kind of power only a few times in their lives.
Dejen said, "We aren't sure what happened, but whatever we did seemed to cause a widespread cessation of magic. We think that's how Auril's enchantment was ended." He frowned. "We just don't know how long the outage will last. I'm skeptical we created a permanent magical dead zone in Icewind Dale, but it's anyone's guess when things will return."
"I see," she said softly. "So that includes healing magic?" She tightened her grip on Eberic's shoulders.
"I'm afraid so," Dejen said reluctantly.
Zariel put her soup spoon in her bowl and folded her hands. "I feel cut off from Lathander's power, and his healing touch. I revel in the return of his influence in the form of the sun in the sky, but the loss of my link to his divinity is...troubling."
Marrit asked, "What about things like potions? Torg's occasionally has such things, and they just arrived in town today."
"Have they?" Pariah asked, and then she sighed. "It's hard to get away from them." Marrit looked confused by that remark, so Pariah added, "We aren't on the best of terms with them. But in answer to your question, yes even magic items are affected."
Dejen fumbled in his pocket. "That's how I first noticed. I picked up this wonderful magic timepiece in Caer-Konig. When the sun came up, I wanted to check its position versus the time and I..." He trailed off. He had pulled the ivory disk out of his pocket to show it to her, but he was staring at it wordlessly now.
Pariah craned her neck to see that the ivory face was stained black across about a third of its surface. "It's working?" she asked.
"It's working," he breathed. "It's working!" he said with more excitement.
Zariel stood and rushed out of the room. Pariah was confused by her sudden departure, but was distracted by the idea that magic had returned. She wanted to test it but wasn't sure firing a beam of ice in the kitchen would be appropriate. Bjarnson held out his hand and said, "Fire, come to me." A flame appeared in his palm, burning warmly about an inch above the skin. He gazed at it with a grin before snuffing it out. Dejen had taken out his magic quill and was drawing horizontal lines in the air. Pariah knew that's how he read what he had previously written, though nothing was visible to anyone else. From his relieved grin, she assumed it was working and that his library of information was safe.
She blew out a sigh of relief. As for her own magic, the idea of severing any connection with Levistus didn't bother her. She'd lost her magic before. However, there were others who depended on it, plus it meant the injured could have their injuries healed.
Zariel came back into the kitchen. She was holding her sword before her, the blade bare and glowing brightly. "I feel his presence," she said, her voice catching.
A sense of celebration went around the table, and they toasted with mugs of tea. Zariel was holding her scabbard in her other hand and she sheathed her weapon. She then reached out and drew a circle in the air. Nothing happened. Her smile faded, and she drew the circle again, still to no effect.
"What is it?" Pariah asked.
"I still can't summon Lulu," Zariel said grimly. "I suppose that if the disruption had severed the thread that connected her to this plane, I will have to re-establish it. That will require a long prayer. If you'll excuse me, I would like to get started immediately."
She turned and started to walk out of the room, but Pariah interrupted, "Maybe first you could see if Lathander's healing magic is back as well."
Zariel stopped and turned to look at them. "Of course," she said sheepishly. "Forgive me for my distraction. Certainly I will heal whom I can first."
"It's fine," Pariah assured her. "We all want to see that Lulu is safe too."
Bjarnson and Zariel used their healing magic on themselves and Eberic. Bjarnson cautioned them that it was better to combine magical and natural healing rather than trying to erase everyone's injuries in full. Zariel agreed, adding that it was also best not to expend all of their magical energy in case they were attacked again.
With that done, Zariel went outside to sit in the sun and pray to Lathander, hoping to bring Lulu back to this plane. Pariah and Dejen took the sleds to the kennels, after taking Macreadus's wrapped body into the backyard. Bjarnson and Eberic stayed behind to rest and to tell Marrit what had happened at the Black Cabin.
Pariah had been worried that the kennel workers might be out celebrating like much of the town seemed to be, but the facility was still fully staffed, though there was the same sense of merriment and relief. There was a lot of speculation among them about what had happened to end the Everlasting Rime, during which Pariah and Dejen remained politely silent.
As they walked away from the kennel, headed back to the house, Dejen said coyly, "You didn't say anything back there about what we did." He nodded towards the sun.
Pariah grinned at him. "Neither did you."
He smiled back. "Well, I'm not sure I want to take credit for breaking magic, even briefly. Dejen's Folly," he laughed. "Besides, I'm supposed to work in the shadows."
It took Pariah a moment to realize that was a reference to his work with the Harpers. "Did you want to take this time to call back to Beldora? Tell her what's going on without the others around?"
He thought about that and then said, "No, not just yet. That device allows me only a few words a day so I prefer to write out my message first."
"Oh, I don't know. Went to cabin. Found device. Pariah died. Sun rose. Pariah back. The end. Sorry about killing magic."
She had meant her comments to be light hearted, but they seemed to darken his mood. After a moment he said softly, "I'm glad you are all right. I think that might have gotten lost in the noise of the moment. I mean we're all glad you're back, but I feel like it was my fault."
"Why your fault?"
He hugged himself in the cold. The sun might be up, but it was going to take many days before the brutal temperatures rose appreciably, though they both had their hoods down to feel the warmth of the sun on their faces. He said glumly, "I should have examined the device more closely. Should have figured out its operations and dangers. Should have warned you not to touch it. Should have-"
"Hey," she laughed, "I've been getting into mortal danger since long before I met you. It was pretty stupid of me to have picked it up in the first place. Don't worry about it." That reminded her, "Oh, hey, we found that weird stick in Macreadus's laboratory. I should look at it again. I should be able to read what was written on the side."
"Can you?" he asked. "You can read Netherese?"
Pariah realized that she and Zariel hadn't told the others about the return of her ability to read anything. She hadn't meant to keep the secret this long; it had just never come up. "Oh, I guess I never told you about that. One of the things I used to be able to do when I was indebted to you-know-who, was read anything in any language. That came back a while ago. I was a little reluctant to tell the rest of you about it since I know you don't trust the source of these powers."
He stopped in his tracks to stare at her. She thought he was upset about her keeping secrets or about this gift from Levistus, but instead he gushed, "You can read anything? Anything? That's...that's... AMAZING!"
She laughed at his reaction. "It is pretty nice, especially for uneducated Outer City filth like me. I had the run of Candlekeep for a while, well until I made them mad."
"How did you make them mad?"
As they walked, she told him the grim story of The Woman Who Threw A Book. He was appropriately horrified by her action, but also fascinated by her description of her difficulty studying. He was pleased to hear she had managed to regain her library privileges, since being cut off from Candlekeep seemed like the most terrible fate he could imagine.
They came around the final corner and started walking down the street towards the house. "Pariah!" a voice squealed from ahead.
She looked up to see a golden streak shooting towards her, and suddenly something small was hugging her neck. The shape said in a high voice, "Pariah, I'm so glad you're all right!"
The tiefling laughed and reached up to hug Lulu with one hand, wanting to squeeze tightly but being careful not to hurt the little angel. "I'm glad you're all right too. We were all pretty worried about you."
"I'm fine," Lulu assured her. "We celestials are hard to kill, not like you stupid mortals and your stupid short lives. We barely get to know you and you're gone." Her voice had started cheerful but was almost angry by the end.
"I've still got a few years left in me," Pariah assured her.
They had reached the front yard of the house where Zariel was standing, beaming towards Lulu. The latter was still hugging Pariah's neck. "She said you'd die. Remember?"
"Who?" Pariah asked in confusion.
"That stupid seer lady. She said you'd die."
"Who?" Pariah asked again, but then she remembered the dwarven soothsayer in Caer-Konig. "Oh, her."
Dejen furrowed his brow. "She did, didn't she. She said...wait, I wrote it down." He fished out his magic quill and drew a line in the air. "Let's see...it was here....no, before that...ah, here we are! 'This path leads to your end, and yet follow it you will, follow it you must. From death will come your life, your victory, his victory.'"
Pariah grimaced. She'd never liked prophecy. It was always too vague for her. "I suppose we could interpret that as my death, but it could mean a lot of things."
Dejen mused, "But what came from your death?"
"He told us how to fix the Summer Star," said Zariel. "That has ended Auril's curse, which Levistus claimed was one of his goals. It was certainly one of ours."
"Perhaps," Dejen said in an unsatisfied tone. "But Copper's letter already hinted at a third ring. Honestly, I think I could have used the blueprints and that clue to have deduced the solution." Suddenly he snapped his fingers as an idea occurred to him. "The tower. Macreadus told you the location of the Netherese tower. There was nothing even hinting at that in the information he left behind. We should go there!"
"Hey, whoa," Pariah cautioned him. "I’m not that interested in dancing to Levistus's tune. We fixed the Everlasting Rime. I'm willing to continue to stop the duergar. But, honestly, I don't care about some ancient ruin."
"But, it's Netherese," Dejen said, baffled by her refusal. "It's an invaluable trove of ancient knowledge. We must investigate!"
"We'll talk about it later," Pariah sighed. "Right now, I think we all need a break. Let's just enjoy our one victory before planning our next disaster." At the moment, she had something else she wanted to talk about, so she said quickly, "Why don't you head inside. I want to talk to Zariel and Lulu about something."
"Oh? What?" he asked curiously.
"It's private," she said firmly.
It took him a moment, but then he said sheepishly, "Oh, of course. Yes, well then, I'll head inside." He ducked his head briefly and then started across the yard.
After he'd left, Zariel said, "He may be right about the prophecy. Although I too am reluctant to follow the guidance of Levistus, the prophecy did imply that it would benefit us and our goals."
"I don't care!" she snapped. "With all due respect to your former life, I'm sick and tired of fucking immortals moving me around like a piece on a game board."
That had come out angrier than she intended. She took a breath and said, "Sorry. I just have a long history of this shit."
Zariel didn't seem offended. She sighed and said, "To be fair, my current role has left me equally frustrated with the lack of clear direction. I wish to serve Lathander faithfully, but that is difficult when I don't know what he wants of me."
That led nicely into what Pariah wanted to ask them about. "With that in mind, I wanted to ask you two something. I figure you are probably the best ones to answer this." She pursed her lips. "Why am I back? I'm not complaining, mind you, I'm glad to be here, but why am I back? Who brought me back and why?"
Lulu had moved to sit on Pariah's shoulder. She said, "Are you afraid it was Levistus?"
That hadn't been her concern at first. However, as she had thought about it over the last few hours, that worry had started to surface. "Maybe a little," she admitted, "but I figure he would have asked for something first, not raised me out of the goodness of his heart." She looked up at the sky. "The other obvious candidate is Lathander. Macreadus was one of his disciples. What we did brought back the sun. Maybe Lathander did it, but why? And what does he want from me?" Again, she heard her voice getting angry.
Zariel and Lulu exchanged a glance. The warrior said, "I don't know. I have been thanking him for your return in my prayers because I just assumed it was his blessing." Her brow furrowed in thought. "Another thing that just occurred to me is how could you be resurrected when magic was disrupted? That implies it happened before the Summer Star activated, though I imagine only a moment before. I don't believe Levistus would have been able to do that without working through an agent, an idol, or a relic. Lathander's presence was strong in that place, despite the darkness that was there as well. I believe that is why your spirits didn't move on; he provided a sanctuary to allow Macreadus to finish his work and that caught your soul as well. Macreadus's amulet may have had enough holy power to allow Lathander or one of his agents to act the instant before the Summer Star was activated, and restore you to life. As for what he wants, perhaps that was just his blessing for our assistance returning his glory to Icewind Dale."
"Maybe," Pariah mumbled. "I just don't like unpaid debts, especially to immortals. And why didn't he raise Macreadus as well?"
"My guess would be that either his grip on this plane was too fragile -- you mentioned he seemed to be weakening -- or possibly, since his work was complete, his soul was allowed to move on. For all we know, Lathander gave him the choice."
Pariah frowned. "For all we know, he didn't. Immortals tend not to let our opinions influence their decisions."
Zariel frowned back, and said diplomatically, "Perhaps. Either way, I'm not sure we'll ever know the answer to these questions. However, I don't believe Lathander would expect anything in return. It's more likely that it's a reward for your efforts."
Pariah harrumphed. "He could have at least healed my scars as long as he was restoring my body." She felt surprisingly grumpy about the fact she wasn't dead. "We should get back inside," she suggested.
Everyone was glad to see Lulu was back. While they were greeting her, Dejen brought over the rod they had found in Macreadus's laboratory. "Can you read this?" he asked as he handed it over.
The strange writing didn't resolve itself into a word she understood, but she could tell what sounds it made. It was like the words she read on the redcap hat in Avernus that had summoned small creatures. She opened her mouth to say the word, but then closed it again as she realized that maybe she shouldn't activate it inside the house just in case it was some kind of weapon.
She slipped out the front door and Dejen came with her. She pointed it away from her, and then realized she didn't know which end was which. Instead, she held it out vertically in front of her, one end pointing towards the sky and the other towards the ground.
"Puroshir," she said, intoning the word written on the side.
The ends of the forearm-length rod shot out. One end hit the ground, and the impact knocked it out of her hand. The rod fell to the snow. It was now a pole that measured a good four or five strides long. "Huh," she said, looking down at it. "I guess that could be useful if you want to poke something far away."
She picked it up to look at it more closely. It seemed to weigh the same as before, and yet it was solid along its length, not hollow. She still wasn't sure what the material it was. She tried to bend it but it was rigid. She pushed it against a rock and it didn't collapse in on itself. Finally, she held it crosswise in front of her and said, "Puroshir." It snapped back to its shorter length.
She looked at Dejen. "Want it?" she asked, holding it out.
"Yes," he said, gazing at it in awe. "I wonder how it works." He held it out and spoke the command word. It extended. He said it again and it retracted. "Wonderful," he breathed.
"I'm going to head back inside," Pariah said with a grin, and left him to play with his new toy.
The group spent the rest of the day relaxing and reveling in their victory. They had stopped the Everlasting Rime and the magical disruption had ended, so it seemed like a win. Pariah wondered if they were overstaying their welcome, but Marrit seemed genuinely happy to have so many guests. Eberic was more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. None of them wanted to go join the celebrations in the rest of the town. Pariah might have liked it under other circumstances, but right now she was too worn out.
She ended up napping for a couple of hours and felt better after that. Of course, she knew that would disrupt her sleep schedule even more, but that was fine.
Bjarnson and Marrit whipped up a celebratory feast of steamed clams, reindeer bacon, lentil noodles and a mix of root vegetables. Eberic broke out two bottles of dwarven carrot wine he had been saving for a special occasion, and those went pretty fast. Dessert was dried fruit soaked in the last of the wine. They weren't just celebrating the return of summer; Eberic reminded them that this should end the monthly lotteries, which was good because the new moon was only three days away.
Pariah was surprised when Dejen announced that, according to his timepiece, it was after ten in the evening. The sunlight was still bright outside and she wondered if his clock was wrong, but Bjarnson assured her that this was normal for an Icewind Dale summer. The sun would set shortly before midnight only to rise again about four hours later. The sky would get dusky but not dark. This was the perfect time of year for the sun to have made its return.
The others eventually made their way to bed, but Pariah was still wide awake after her afternoon nap so she sat up with Lulu. They talked a bit about Lathander, but they also shared memories of their time together. Avernus had been terrible, but it had also been the fire that had forged their friendship, and there were a few good memories among the horror.
The light outside dimmed as the sun sank below the Spine of the World. Pariah put on her furs and stepped outside to look, Lulu snuggled inside her cloak. The buildings blocked her view, but she could see a brightness in the sky though it was more southern than she had expected. She debated about walking down to the lake to get a better look at the horizon, but decided she was too tired even for such a short jaunt. She was curious how close to dark it would get, and if they'd be able to see stars.
A light wind came from the west, blowing flurries of snow along the empty streets. The air was cold and crisp, but she was convinced it wasn't as cold as before. There had been some discussion of how long it would take to warm up to normal temperatures. It would be days at least, possibly weeks. Bjarnson had worried that the sudden melt of two years of snow could create flooding. Regardless, Pariah was certain this midnight air was warmer than it had been at noon even a day or two ago.
However, it was still cold, and Pariah realized she'd have to stand out here for two hours to see how dim the light really got. She wasn't about to do that, so she turned to head back into the house.
A prickling started to travel across her skin, and she could feel the hair on her neck stand up. She'd felt this before, every night around midnight. She looked up and, as expected, waves of blue and purple light appeared in the sky, cascading across the dim light. And just like that, the orange sky faded to brown and then black as the sunlight disappeared completely. Stars shone, though they were barely visible through the aurora. It was a beautiful light display, but Pariah felt nothing but anger and as she viewed it. This was Auril's work. This aurora had appeared the night of Midwinter two and a half years ago, right before the first day the sun hadn't risen. The wind rose and the temperature fell precipitously as the gale tore through the streets.
"Talona's tits," she ground out through gritted teeth. "It didn't work."
Notes:
This is a longer chapter than I usually write, but I knew I wanted to end it where it did. Meanwhile, I had to get a lot of details out of their way as they got through their first day back.
The rod is a pole of collapsing. I decided not to make Macreadus's pendant the amulet of health in the module because that's a rare item, and they shouldn't get their first rare for a couple more levels. I thought about making it something else, but the only thing that fit was an amulet of the devout +1 for Zariel, and she already has two permanent items. Pariah hasn't even gotten one yet!
Chapter 77: Nightfall
Summary:
Another morning in Bryn Shander, which is unfortunately cold and dark as the Everlasting Rime returns.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 14, 1496 (13 days after the Full Moon)
Zariel shook Pariah awake. "Pariah wake up!" she said sharply. "The sun is gone again!"
"I know," the tiefling said muzzily from her sleeping roll on the floor, her eyes still closed.
"You know?" Zariel asked.
Pariah sighed and opened her eyes. "Yes," she said as she sat up. Bjarnson was still in bed, though sitting up. Lulu was standing on the widow sill. Through the doorway she could see Dejen and Marrit looking out the window in the main room. "I was awake last night when it happened," she said as she stretched.
"And you didn't wake us?"
Pariah looked up at her. "Why bother? I figured you all deserved one good night's sleep. Waking you wouldn't have changed anything."
Zariel looked towards the dark window. "That's true," she said distantly. "I just thought we had brought Lathander's blessing back."
"We did," Pariah said. "For a few hours. Honestly, although I’m disappointed by the return of the Rime, I still feel good about what we did. Maybe that's a sign we can do it again." She felt a sense of genuine optimism that had been missing since she had arrived here.
Zariel set her jaw and said firmly, "We will."
Pariah stood and stretched. "We can talk about what our next step is over breakfast," she suggested. "Did you have any visitations in your dreams that might point us in a direction."
Zariel frowned thoughtfully. "No. I will pray this morning and see if I receive any inspiration."
Pariah looked over to Bjarnson and asked, "How are you feeling this morning? Head any better?"
"Some," he said. "I still have a headache but I have herbs for that." He hauled himself to his feet and added, "But I feel steadier this morning, not so dizzy. That's a good sign."
They headed into the main room. Eberic was standing in the doorway into the master bedroom, leaning heavily against the jam. "Did I hear you say you saw it?" he said to Pariah.
"Yes," she said. "I felt that static in the air that happens right before the aurora, then the aurora appeared and the sky went dark. I guess that confirms that somehow that's related to Auril renewing her magic. Whatever we did broke the spell, but she recast it."
"So how do we stop her permanently?" he asked, though it was clearly a rhetorical question.
"Well, based on my past experience with a powerful immortal, we kill her or we change her mind. I'm not sure either of those are very likely. Is there any coffee?"
Lulu said, "Or we break her connection to the curse. That's how you got away from Levistus."
Pariah had started to walk to the kitchen to answer her own question about the coffee, but she stopped. "That's true," she admitted. "Of course we have to find out what her connection is, if there is one. I know a little about how devils do things, but does anyone know how gods are connected to this plane?"
She kept her eyes forward, looking away from the group. She had really been asking Zariel, though was trying not to make it obvious. However, it was Dejen who answered. "I would think that, since this appears to be a cyclic phenomenon that has to be renewed, she must have some kind of power base here in Icewind Dale: a stronghold or artifact."
"Or a person?" she mused, turning to face him. "I know that's how some fiends work, but do celestials work like that? Could the head of Auril's cult be casting this spell?"
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Possibly," he admitted. "The gods did work through mortals during the Sundering, but they are usually less direct. Still, it's a possibility. But we killed him."
"No," Bjarnson said. "Janus was just the head of the local cult in Bryn Shander. The top man is Davrick Fain. He used to run a tourist shop in Bremen. He's been preaching devotion to Auril for years. When the Everlasting Rime came, he headed out into the wilderness. I don't know where he lives, but he pops up now and then to harangue the locals into worshiping the Frostmaiden. I suppose we could ask around and see if anyone knows where he is."
"We should go to the tower!" Dejen exclaimed.
That elicited a puzzled silence from the group. Well, most of them were puzzled; Pariah just sighed quietly. He continued, "We were talking about that, right, Pariah? That soothsayer said that Pariah's death would show us the path forward. She died and Macreadus told her about the Netherese tower he'd found. It was Netherese technology that allowed us to disrupt the spell. Maybe we can find more wonders that will stop the Rime permanently."
Pariah didn't like that he was so enthusiastic about the benefits of her painful death, but she had to admit he had a point. "At least we know where the tower is," she said. "We have no idea where this Fain character could be hiding out."
Bjarnson said, "And we want to take Macreadus's body to Bryn Shander, and the chardalyn weapons to the vault in Easthaven." He scowled. "We might also want to check on the situation at Caer-Dineval, make sure the Black Sword are living up to their end of the deal."
Pariah mirrored his stormy expression as she wondered if they should consult with Avarice to see what she had found out about the duergar. Auril was the obvious threat, but the duergar and their plan to conquer Ten-Towns was a serious problem as well. On the other hand, she didn't necessarily want to tip their hand about the Netherese tower or the object that had temporarily suppressed the Everlasting Rime.
Eberic said, "We need to hurry. We should head out today."
Pariah was surprised by his suggestion; she had assumed they'd rest at least a day or two. Marrit apparently shared her concern, because she said firmly, "No, you are going to stay in bed."
"I'm fine," he grumbled, waving her off. His pallor and the way he leaned heavily against the doorframe to his bedroom made it clear his statement wasn't true.
"You're not," Marrit said. "Now get back into bed and I'll bring you your breakfast."
He didn't move. Softly he said, "It's the new moon in two days."
Marrit's head lowered and she sighed heavily. "I know," she replied. "But you can't fix this in two days, so there's no point in killing yourself trying."
It took Pariah a moment to remember that the new moon is when the three largest towns made their sacrifices, staking victims out in the snow to die of exposure or animal attacks.
"We could save whoever Targos sacrifices," Eberic said.
Pariah had been so focused on stopping the Rime that she hadn't considered shorter term options. Bryn Shander used a voluntary lottery, and now so did Easthaven, but Targos didn't. Someone, possibly even a teenager, would be hauled out to die afraid in the cold and the dark. They could rescue the victim, maybe bring them to Bryn Shander where they could blend in. Beldora might be able to hide them, and they could-
"Do you think that's the best decision?" Bjarnson asked.
"You don't think we should save them?" Eberic demanded angrily.
In a gentle tone, Bjarnson replied, "In other circumstances, where others wouldn't suffer in their place, yes. But you know what happened last time. I understand why you had to rescue your friend last month, but the people of Targos suffered for that. We don't have the right to endanger an entire town over one person."
The dwarf pushed against the door frame to stand up straight, though he swayed slightly. "We can't give in to Auril's threats. We have to be willing to stand against her tyranny."
"But we wouldn't be the ones standing against her, would we?" Bjarnson observed. "We wouldn't be the targets of her wrath."
"He's right," Pariah interjected reluctantly. "It's not fair to risk an entire city to save one person." She looked over at the asteri and said, "Don't you agree, Lulu?"
The little angel returned her gaze sadly. "Yes," she said.
Pariah motioned to herself and Lulu. "We've seen this before," she explained. "A friend risked the fate of a city to save someone she cared about. And while I understand her choice, her pain, it was still the wrong decision. We need to stop this," she pointed towards the window and the dark winter outside, "and stop all of the lotteries."
Zariel was staring off into space, lost in her own thoughts. Dejen was looking back and forth between Pariah and Eberic, but had nothing to add.
Pariah continued, "I want to save everyone, I think we all do, but this isn't how we do it. We've made progress in the last few weeks but not enough. Let us all take time to rest and heal, and work on finding a solution to this horror by the next new moon."
Eberic frowned but, after a moment, nodded glumly.
"Now get back into bed," Marrit said sternly, "or I'll pick you up and carry you there."
Eberic harrumphed, but turned and went back into his bedroom, leaning heavily on his wife. Over her shoulder, Marrit said, "There's coffee, flatbread and cheese to start. I'll be in to make breakfast once Eberic is settled."
The rest of the group headed into the kitchen where they found mushroom coffee simmering on the stove, and the bread and cheese laid out on the table along with several mugs. As they got settled, Pariah asked, "Bjarnson, how bad is he?"
The big man sighed, running his fingers through his shaggy red hair. "Pretty bad," he admitted. "The axe blade went between his ribs and cut him deep. He's lucky you and Zariel got to him when you did. There was some infection last I checked; I'll look again today."
Zariel was going around the table, pouring the coffee. Pariah wrapped her hands around the warm mug and said, "Maybe we should go on without him. Leave him here, let him rest. We can always swing back in a few days and see how he's doing."
"I'm inclined to agree with you," Bjarnson said. "And it's more like a few weeks. But do you think he'd be willing to stay put?"
"No," she admitted, taking a sip of the mushroom coffee. She was still getting used to the strange nutty flavor, though she didn't dislike it.
"Zariel and I can continue with our healing magic and that will certainly speed his recovery, but his injury is beyond simply closing wounds."
"Yeah," Pariah sighed, looking down at her burned hands. It had been weeks before she had been back to her full strength, though her wounds had been from a magical source so that might have made her recovery harder. There was also her old shoulder injury, which still twinged in bad weather. "It takes its toll," she mumbled, mostly to herself.
"I think we need to take at least one more day," Bjarnson said. "Three or four would be better, but I don't know if we have that luxury."
Zariel had put the pot back on the stove and sat down with them. "I wouldn't want to overstay our welcome. Marrit has been a gracious host, but I wonder if we should move to the inn."
"Don't be silly," Marrit said as she came into the kitchen. "I’m grateful for you keeping my husband safe. Well, as safe as he's willing to be. There's always room for you all here."
Her tone sounded genuine, but it was a little cramped to have six people in such a small house. Pariah was fine, she'd certainly lived in more crowded conditions, but here she'd noticed the darkness and the cold created a kind of cabin fever that wasn't common back in Baldur's Gate.
Pariah asked, "Is there anywhere in town I can get armor and a shield?"
"Well, Torg's is here," Marrit said, "but you said you are on bad terms with them."
"Very," Pariah confirmed. "They won't sell to us."
"In that case, you'd have to go to Targos." Marrit frowned. "Though Eberic probably won't want to go there."
Pariah would have liked to check in on Mishann's son, but she also knew why Eberic would be reluctant. They had no idea if the Targos authorities had figured out his role in the release of their last sacrifice. If they had, there was no reason to make it easy for them to get their hands on him. "Bryn Shander isn't much farther," she said. Then she groaned, "Assuming we don't get ambushed again."
"Another reason to rest for a while," Marrit said.
"Maybe," she replied. "But remember we have a corpse out back we'd like to lay to rest, and black ice weapons we want to be sure don't get in the wrong hands."
"At least this corpse probably won't come back to life," Dejen observed.
Pariah chuckled darkly. "True." She leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "Honestly, I don't know if we should stay or go. What about the rest of you?"
Bjarnson insisted, "We all need to rest, at least a couple of days. Travel's going to be hard on the injured and, as you said, that assumes we don't get ambushed."
Pariah leaned back forward to look towards Dejen, who said, "I have no strong opinion, though I would like to get back to Bryn Shander. Perhaps we could take our convalescence there." Quickly he added to Marrit, "No disrespect to the fine care we get here."
She gave him a one-sided smile. "You're all welcome to stay. I'm sure Eberic would want to go, but I'm imposing my wifely veto and changing his vote to stay."
Pariah chuckled. "Fair enough. Zariel?"
The blonde woman was still lost in thought, staring blankly towards the fire. Pariah prompted again, more loudly this time, "Zariel?"
"Yes?" the woman said with a start. "What is it?"
"Do you think we should travel to Bryn Shander or stay here another couple of days?"
"Oh, well," she said, trying to orient herself from whatever her thoughts had been. "I think we should stay here." She frowned. "Though I would like to return to the Morninglord's shrine. Even though Mishann is gone, it's still going to be a holy place. Perhaps I can get guidance there." She shook her head to clear it. "But rest is probably more important in the short term."
Lulu added, "I agree."
Pariah turned to Marrit and said, "Well, it looks like you've got a bunch of house guests for a couple of days."
The dwarven woman grinned back. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Bjarnson, why don't you help me start breakfast?"
Eberic hobbled out to join them once the meal was served, over his wife's objections. It was a filling spread of moose meat, pickled fish, walrus blubber, and baked turnips. The meat was smoked for preservation, something Marrit had done while they had been gone. She also served something like the dish Pariah had eaten in Bryn Shander: berries mixed with whipped fat, though her version also had mashed carrots. She said it was called Reghed ice cream, something originally created by the nomadic natives.
After breakfast, Pariah and Dejen helped Marrit with chores, leaving the injured members of the party to rest. The dwarven woman insisted it wasn't necessary, but Pariah didn't want to take advantage of her kindness, and she was restless anyhow. They put Macreadus's body inside the woodshed and buried the chardalyn weapons under the snow in another corner of the yard.
She and Dejen made a run to the mill to buy a load of wood, taking a small sled designed to be pulled by one person instead of dogs. Nothing stirred around the Eastside Inn, though they could see lights on inside. The snowy area in front of the cluster of houses that made up the inn was still littered with debris from the festivities: discarded mugs, food scraps, remains of campfires. A lone fur boot stood on the roof of one of the houses. The place was quiet except for the wind blowing through the empty streets.
The mill was running, though a pall hung over the place. She could see people working, but they seemed to be moving slowly, shoulders slumped. A dwarven man with a white beard and thin eyebrows took their money and helped them load the wood onto their sled. His face was haunted and his eyes were dull.
"At least we got a little break from all of this yesterday," Pariah offered.
He looked at her listlessly. "Break?" he scoffed. "It was cruel. Auril taunting us with what we used to have just to make us suffer more. It was better before. We'd forgotten what it used to be like. We'd gotten used to it. Yesterday just opened the wound again."
Pariah exchanged a glance with Dejen. She asked, "Is that how everyone feels?"
He shrugged. "No. Some are like you, think it was a good thing. Think it's Amaunator breaking through Auril's curse. Or the Rime weakening. Or wizards breaking the spell. Or who knows what else. But it doesn't matter. We still have to live in this," he waved towards the dark sky. He sighed heavily. "Maybe I should go back to Dwarven Valley. At least you expect it to be dark underground, and it's warmer in the mines."
They finished the work in silence, and Pariah thanked him when they were finished. He grunted, nodded, and headed back into the mill.
Dejen pulled the sled out into the street, Pariah walking alongside. She tried to keep her attention on their surroundings and not get lost in thought. She didn't know if they were safe here, if Auril or her cultists would attack again. However, her thoughts kept returning to what he'd said. She understood his perspective. Sometimes a moment of good fortune highlights the misery rather than relieving it.
Wanting to take her mind off such grim thoughts, she said, "Have you reported to Beldora?"
Dejen looked around, though there was nobody nearby. "I did last night, and again today."
"I don't suppose she had any insight on, well," Pariah waved vaguely at the darkness and weather.
"No. Macreadus's device did stop the Rime, if only for a few hours, so she thinks we should explore the Netherese tower. She also thought Avarice might be a source of insight about any artifacts or writings we find, though she suggested caution."
Pariah sighed morosely, her steamy breath briefly obscuring her vision. "I thought about that. I didn't really want to say anything because I don't know if it's a good idea."
Dejen added grimly, "And if we talk to her, she's not the only one listening."
"True," Pariah said. "But he always seemed to know what was going on anyhow. It wouldn't surprise me if he knew about the device before we did." She frowned in thought. "Did he send us there?"
"I don't think so," Dejen said hesitantly. "The soothsayer predicted you would...well...you know. But nothing about the cabin or the device. Amaunator or Lathander or whatever his name is seemed to be the one to direct Zariel to that place."
"Fucking immortals," Pariah sighed. "Anyhow, my guess is Levistus already knows what we did."
"Maybe," Dejen said. "Or maybe he just pretends that he knows. I've come across a few people like that. They can trick you into thinking they have all the answers just to get you to admit to something."
Pariah thought about that and laughed. "I think that's probably something he'd do. He was always very vague." She deepened her voice in a mockery of his, "My plans are not for mortal minds. You have done as I expected. The truth is beyond your understanding. I'm so smart and important."
Rather than laughing, Dejen gave her a look of concern. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea to ridicule such a powerful being. "
"Levistus can kiss my ass," she said sharply. "And he knows that's how I feel about him. Honestly, I don't think he cares. He wants our loyalty, not our love. We can hate him all we want as long as we do what he wants."
"I suppose," Dejen mumbled in a tone of concern.
"But you may be right about the tower," she said. "Did you get anything out of Dzaan's book?" She had given him the book about Netheril they had gotten from Dzaan's things, since it had been over her head.
"Some," he said. "Unfortunately, Netheril isn't my area of study and I don't have the foundation to fully use the information in that book."
"Yeah, been there," she sighed, remembering many frustrating sessions at Candlekeep.
Reluctantly he said, "And again, we have a Netheril expert in Avarice."
She scowled. "I'd rather go to the tower first. See what we find."
"Probably best," he agreed. "Would you like the book back?"
She considered that for a while and then said, "I guess. I might as well take a stab at it again. Maybe I'll get something from it. You can borrow it any time, of course."
"All right. Remind me to return it to you when we get back."
Notes:
Pariah's "sense of genuine optimism" is the blessing of the Morninglord, which gives them 10 temporary HP each day at dawn. That's the module's reward for finishing Black Cabin.
Reghed ice cream is called Alaskan or Inuit ice cream in our world.
Chapter 78: The Lottery
Summary:
The group has been resting from the battle at Black Cabin, but must get back on the road.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 16, 1496 (New Moon)
The group spent two more days at Eberic and Marrit's house convalescing. Bjarnson and Zariel both tried to help Eberic's chest wound with their healing magic, but he still had a long road ahead before he would be back to fighting fit. Bjarnson confided to Pariah that he was afraid the dwarf could have permanent lung damage, but they wouldn't know for sure until some more time had passed.
Marrit had said there was a supply caravan between Revel's End and Targos that ran through Termalaine. It ran about once a month, since supply shipments to the prison port were rare, but it was fairly reliable. Pariah asked if they carried mail, and Marrit had said they carried anything asked, though it was anyone's guess how long it would take for a package to get to its destination.
With that in mind, Pariah wrote a long letter to Rowan, care of the Lady's Hall in Baldur's Gate. She knew there was little chance of privacy, so she tried to be careful about some of the details. She referred to Zariel and Levistus by their initials only, leaving enough hints for Rowan to figure out who she was talking about. Other than that, she left little out, including her own death. The realization that she could have disappeared without her friends knowing anything about this journey was a big part of her motivation for the letter. She wanted to let them know at least some of the story.
She included a shorter letter to her friend, Janshi, focusing only on the more exciting parts of her adventure and leaving out the bit about being dead for a day. She asked Rowan to find him and read it to him. She put them together into a single package, and Marrit assured her she'd put it on the caravan when it passed through in a few days.
Dejen gave the book on Netheril back to Pariah, though she wasn't able to make much more sense of it then before. He seemed to understand it better than she did, and he was able to answer many of her questions. However, after two days of discussions, they hadn't discovered anything useful. There was some evidence that one or more of the Netherese cities had crashed in Icewind Dale, but any evidence had been swallowed up by the harsh environment.
Bjarnson thought it unlikely that the rest of the city was in the same area as the tower. Macreadus had mentioned that the tower had been upside down, implying it had broken off from the main structure. If an entire city had crashed in the middle of the tundra, even if it had fractured to pieces, someone would have found it by now. They had no idea how far the city had flown after shedding the tower but since it had never been found, he guessed it was either sunk in the Sea of Moving Ice or buried under the northern ice cap. It could be anywhere within thousands of square miles with no easy way to locate it.
Dejen also pointed out the possibility that Macreadus had simply been wrong. He found a tower, but maybe it had been built by some unknown sage who was studying Netheril, rather than by the Netherese themselves. That left the possibility of finding more Netherese books or artifacts, just not an entire city.
Zariel received a dream that depicted a shining spire of ice, gleaming in the darkness of night. She heard voices from the tower whispering warnings, though she couldn't make out their exact words. She took that to mean Lathander wanted them to go there. Pariah thought sourly that it could just as easily be advice to stay away, but she didn't bother saying anything. Lulu returned to Mount Celestia and asked around, but wasn't able to find anyone who knew or even particularly cared about the fates of the mortals in this part of the Material Plane.
Although Marrit tried to convince them, especially her husband, to stay and rest for a few more days, they were all aware of the clock that ticked across Ten-Towns. They rose on the day of the New Moon, knowing that three people would be sent to their deaths that night. There had been several spirited debates about saving even one of these victims, but in the end they reluctantly agreed that, although the lotteries were horrible, the consequences of disrupting them could be worse. Who knows how many died as a result of the blizzard that had hammered Targos for days after Eberic rescued his friend, Gafne. It wasn't fair to trade one life for many, especially since two of those three victims had agreed to participate.
There was also the lesser storm around Bryn Shander that might have been a response to the death of one of Auril's cult leaders. Auril seemed to be responding to their actions, which was another reason to move on. There was no reason to endanger Termalaine, and especially Marrit, by staying in one place.
They set out shortly before the sun started to light up the eastern sky, intending to arrive in Bryn Shander by midday, assuming no complications along the way. Pariah still hadn't replaced the armor and shield lost in the explosion of the Summer Star. Marrit had bought her a scabbard for her from Torg's, though of course she hadn't told the merchant who the item was meant for. Luckily, unlike the first time she was burned, most of Pariah's possessions had not been nearby so hadn't been damaged in the fire. Pariah's sled carried Eberic and the body of Macreadus. Bjarnson drove the other sled, accompanied by Zariel and Dejen.
Thankfully, the trip passed uneventfully. The wind was strong and icy, the blowing snow limiting their visibility, but it was easy to spot the trail markers and stay on course. Pariah saw a reindeer on a hill, watching them as they passed. Like the owl she had seen before, it seemed unusually alert to their presence, but it also might have simply been a regular animal watching to see if they were predators. It didn't move from its position, and was eventually swallowed by the blowing snow behind them.
The weather was the usual strong, freezing wind coming from the west combined with leaden cloud cover that hung over Ten-Towns like a shroud. When they arrived at Bryn Shander, Pariah was pleased to see that the weather around the town didn't seem noticeably worse than the weather along the rest of their trip. They circled around the city to the Southwest Gate. As before, the gate opened when they called up to the wall, but only to let them into a blocked off area just inside the wall under the watchful eyes of several soldiers with crossbows. A bald man with pale skin and dull hazel eyes -- Pariah recognized him as the man who had questioned her and Zariel when they had first arrived in the city -- approached their sleds, his eyes carefully looking over the people and their cargo. He carried a weathered notebook and a pencil.
"What's your business here?" he asked.
"Passing through," Bjarnson said. "We're going to stop to visit a friend at the House of the Morninglord and probably move on tomorrow."
"Lower your hoods," he said as he wrote something in the notebook. He scanned their faces; Pariah felt like his gaze stopped on her, but also knew she might just be self conscious considering how many people in Ten-Towns had been distrustful of her species due to the suspicious actions of the Black Sword. He looked down at the cargo behind Pariah and said, "Wake that one up. I have to see his face too."
Pariah looked behind her in confusion, wondering if Eberic had fallen asleep, but then realized he was talking about Macreadus's body. "He's dead," she said. "And he doesn't have much of a face left to look at. His name is Macreadus, and he's a friend of Copper, the man we are going to see in the House of the Morninglord."
He grunted and wrote something more in his book. "Where will you be staying?"
"The Northlook," Bjarnson said.
The man added it to his notebook. He said, "No one is allowed on the streets between six at night and six in the morning. You'll be arrested if you are out, no excuses. The lottery is at noon in front of the Town Hall." He looked up at the sky, though you couldn't see the sun so there wasn't a way to tell the time. "If you plan to go, then you should hurry. They should be announcing it soon. Kennel's that way," he waved to their left, where soldiers were already removing the palisade blocking the road, "and the Northlook's by the North Gate." He waved vaguely down the main road. "Now move along."
Bjarnson got his team moving and turned them down the road to the kennel, but Pariah didn't move. She looked down the main road, which led to the market plaza. "So they're still having the lottery even though the sun appeared recently?"
The soldier put his pencil inside the notebook and closed it. "The Rime clearly isn't over," he said sourly, nodding up towards the leaden sky. "No reason to take chances."
His answer wasn't surprising; they had all expected that the lotteries would continued. "What happens?" she asked the soldier. "At the lottery."
"At midday, the speaker comes out and gives a speech about unity and sacrifice," he said in a rote tone. "Then she pulls a name from the box. The person has until sundown to report to the Town Hall."
Pariah clenched her teeth. "And if they don't?"
He shrugged. "Then we go get them."
She blew out a foggy breath. "Then what?"
"Then, after nightfall, they are taken out into the wilderness to be offered to Auril." His brow furrowed. "Used to be the Aurilite priest and the Morninglord priest went out to bless them, but they are both dead so I'm not sure what they'll do."
Pariah turned towards the soldier and cocked her head. "Are you signed up for the lottery?"
His face clouded. "It is absolutely forbidden to ask people if they participate in the lottery," he said angrily. "Now move along before I arrest you!"
She was surprised by the vitriol of his response. There hadn't been any judgment in the question, just curiosity, though she could see why it was a taboo subject. She nodded, flipped her hood up, and turned her dog team to follow Bjarnson to the kennel.
She caught up with him before he reached the stable-turned-kennel that spread out against the town wall. As the others unloaded the sleds, she headed into the office. There was nobody at the desk. She looked out over the half-height walls that separated the space from the rest of the barn, but couldn't see anyone among the dogs. "Hello!" she called out, which set several of the dogs barking.
"Shut up!" called out a girl's voice, though in a playful tone rather than an angry one. Pariah assumed that was directed at the dogs rather than her. A teenage human girl in badly dyed blue furs came out of one of the horse stalls. "Hi," she called out breathlessly as she hurried towards the office. "Sorry, it's just me here right now. Everyone's at the lottery. What can I do for you?"
"Twenty-four dogs and two sleds," Pariah said. "Just one day for now. We'll come back if we decide to stay longer."
"All right, that's twenty-four shards which is..." She looked up to the ceiling as she calculated. "Um, two gold and four silver," she said uncertainly.
Pariah counted out the coins and said, "We'll bring the sleds around to the main door. We've been here before so we know to wait."
"Good," the girl said as she took the coins with a quick smile. She looked anxiously over the pack of dogs that were starting to gather. "Um, it might take me a moment to get the door clear."
"Do you need some help?" Pariah chuckled. "I'm pretty good with dogs, and one of my friends is even better with them. We can help you get the pack under control while the others bring the sleds in."
"Well...I mean, I wouldn't mind," she said, embarrassed.
"It's fine," Pariah assured her. "Let me get him."
She stepped out to get Bjarnson, and the three of them herded the dogs away from the fenced off area around the main doors. The operation was less organized than when they'd been there before, but none of them were in much of a hurry and the girl, who said her name was Elbeth, appreciated the help. They got the dogs and sleds squared away and headed back outside.
As they each shouldered their packs, Dejen said, "What are we going to do with the body? We can't exactly take it to the inn with us."
The group stood around uncertainly, looking down at the blanket-wrapped corpse. Pariah realized this was the second time they had brought a dead man to Bryn Shander. The bundle seemed too thin to hold a body, but that's because there hadn't been much other than bones and a little charred flesh left. Most of him had been burned up in the two explosions of energy. Eberic said, "We should take him to the cemetery. We can talk to Copper about what needs to be done with him, but no point in toting him around town."
"I'll carry it," Zariel said, bending down to retrieve the bundle.
Pariah tried to remember where they had gone for Mishann's funeral. "The cemetery is somewhere that way," she said, waving vaguely towards the east.
They started in that direction, which led them back to the gate and gave them the opportunity to ask the soldiers for directions to the cemetery. With a clearer idea of their destination, they walked through the dimly lit streets. Their path took them near the market plaza, where they could see a crowd had gathered. They could hear a woman's voice speaking as the people listened, though they couldn't make out the words over the wind.
"I guess it's happening now," Eberic said grimly.
The group stopped at the corner where they were supposed to turn, mesmerized by what was happening. "Do we..." Dejen said hesitantly. "Do we want to go see?"
"No," Eberic said firmly. "Let them murder each other. I don't want to watch." He started walking down the side street.
The rest of them hesitated, but then followed him.
They could still hear the woman. Pariah thought she recognized the voice of Speaker Shane; the gate guard had said she would be making a speech. She still couldn't hear the actual words, but the woman's oration eventually came to an end. There was a pause and then she said something else. The wind stilled as though the world was pausing to listen. Her voice was louder this time, clear enough to be heard at this distance. "Klaus Heeg."
There was a brief silence, and then a woman let loose a wail of agony, a wordless keening of pain that cut through Pariah's heart. There was a mumble of voices from the crowd that was quickly swallowed up as the wind rose again. Pariah ground her teeth, focusing on putting one foot in front of each other. They couldn't do anything. She knew that. This was bigger than one man. Klaus Heeg would die tonight, sacrificed to a cold and uncaring god, a small tragedy necessary to avoid much greater tragedy. And they could do nothing to stop it.
Not yet.
The group continued in a heavy silence, winding their way through the dimly lit, snowy streets. It wasn't long before they reached the cluster of houses that had been converted to mausoleums. One of the houses was being used as the office, but the door was closed. A sign reading "Back in an hour" hung from the handle.
"I guess we wait," Bjarnson said.
Pariah wondered if this meant the cemetery keeper had put his name in the lottery, and attended to see if he was called. If so, she remembered his first name was Gregor, so he was safe for another month. Or maybe he went to see if one of his friends or family were called. Or he went because he was nosey. The guard had been offended by her asking if he was in the lottery. Did the people who hadn't signed up stay home, knowing they were safe? Or did they go to allay suspicion that they weren't participating? Was there pressure to put your name into the pot, or at least claim that you did, knowing that the more people who participated the less likely any one person would be called?
She also wondered how Easthaven's first voluntary lottery was going. Had they been able to get enough people to sign up in such a short time? The group planned to see the guard captain to turn in the chardalyn weapons when they passed through Easthaven, so she could ask then.
"I wonder if I should volunteer to go with the procession," Zariel wondered aloud. She had put Macreadus's body down next to the door. "To represent Lathander. Someone should represent the gods."
A derisive snort escaped Pariah's lips before she could stop it. Zariel turned to her, eyebrows raised in a question. Pariah hesitated, but then plunged on. "What do the gods care?" she asked. She waved vaguely around them. "This is all the gods' doing. None of them are intervening. He died trying to stop this; where were they then? Their own damn priests were murdered in this town; where were they then?"
Zariel's face clouded. She drew a calming breath, but her tone was stern when she said, "The gods are helping by sending us here. They work through mortals. You...we are their instruments, their champions. They brought Lulu and I to you, and they put the three of us in the path of these others." She waved to the rest of the group. "And, I might add, brought you back from death."
Pariah sighed. "And that's nice. It really is." She pointed to heaven, clicked her tongue and said, "Thanks, Lathander. Really," with only a little sarcasm in her voice. She looked back at Zariel and said, "But three people are going to die tonight. And three more in a month. Not to mention how many people have died from the hardships of the Rime. Bjarnson, Eberic, how many people do you think have died in this winter?"
Bjarnson said uncertainly, "That's hard to say. I don't think anyone's counted."
Eberic scowled. "It's hit the smaller towns hardest, that's for sure, but it's hard to know." He hesitated and then said, "But based on what I'd seen, I'd say one in ten across all the towns. Maybe even one in five." He looked to Bjarnson. "That seem right?"
Reluctantly, the big man sighed, "About that, from what I can see. Maybe a little higher among the Reghedmen. A little lower among the goliaths."
Pariah turned back to Zariel. "There you go. How many more have to die before the gods get involved?"
A lot of complicated emotions passed across Zariel's face. She said softly, "One could say the same thing about the Blood War, and yet divine intervention could simply get a lot of mortals killed, as often happens when powerful forces battle each other."
Pariah was struck silent. She could see the pain in the other woman's eyes, and felt bad for reminding her of her past. "That's fair, I guess," she forced out. She leaned back against the cold stone of the house, crossing her arms and staring down at the ground.
Zariel continued, "We may find the opportunity to fight Auril's actions ourselves, a way to stop her without direct conflict between the gods. That may lead to a better end then would be seen by a battle between divine forces."
Pariah closed her eyes. "Fucking immortals," she sighed.
Notes:
The title is a nod to the Shirley Jackson short story.
I had planned for them to witness the lottery and the reactions of the locals, but the timing didn't work out. They need to drop off the sleds and Macreadus's body, and yet they wouldn't likely travel before sunrise. However, they still got travel close enough to hear what was happening.
A common piece of advice about the module is to have someone they've met be selected for the lottery, but I've already killed off Mishann so it seemed a little forced to kill off another familiar character. I don't know if they'll still be here in a month for the next lottery, but I guess we'll see.
Chapter 79: Funeral Rites
Summary:
Back in Bryn Shander, the group wait at the cemetery after the town lottery has been called, and plan to visit Copper to give him news about Macreadus.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 16, 1496 (New Moon)
It wasn't long before a figure bundled in dark gray furs approached the cemetery office. Remembering what Mere had said about recognizing people from the way they dressed, Pariah noted the details of his outfit. He wore a coat rather than a cloak, and the long sleeves reached past his hands. The coat was fairly typical but his boots looked expensive and sturdy. His hood drooped over his eyes and Pariah was surprised he could see in front of him. A thick, russet beard spilled out across his chest. She recognized Gregor, the cemetery keeper.
He stopped as he realized there were people standing by the door. He looked up, squinting at them. She remembered he had worn glasses before and she wondered where they were now. "May I help you?" he asked.
Zariel responded, "We have someone we wish to leave in your care," as she motioned to the bundle at her feet. "We are going to speak to a friend of his to find out how he wants any ceremony handled, but we thought we could leave him with you for now."
Gregor had pulled his missing glasses out of his pocket and perched them on the bridge of his nose. As soon as he exhaled, the square lenses fogged over. He tightened his lips in irritation and pushed them down to the tip of his nose to squint down at the body. "Bring him inside," he said gently.
He fished out a key and unlocked the door. They followed him inside. The room was not large and it was rather crowded with all of them, but it was warmed by a stove in the corner and they wanted out of the frigid air. Two doors, both closed, led to other rooms. There was a padded bench against one wall and a long table against the opposite. Gregor waved Zariel towards the latter, and she laid the blanket-wrapped body on top of it.
He started to pull back the blanket and she warned him, "He was rather badly burned. There isn't much left."
"Nothing I haven't seen before," he said as he opened the bundle. He gave it a cursory inspection and then wrapped it up again. He turned back to them and asked, "Friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," she said. "Sort of a friend of a friend. We were sent to check on him by Copper, the gentlemen living in the House of the Morninglord."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "Yes, I know who you mean. And this man? What's his name?"
"The only name we know is Macreadus," she said, and then added apologetically, "I don't even know if that was his family name or his personal name. We want to ask Copper if he has any family or loved ones who will want to arrange the funeral. He may have more information."
While she had been talking, Gregor had crossed to one of the doors and opened it to reveal an office. He sat behind a small desk and opened a ledger. There were two other chairs in the room, and a set of shelves held more ledgers. He took a quill from an inkwell and started writing in the book, mumbling, "Macreadus." He looked up and said, "Do you know where he was from?"
"I'm afraid not," Zariel said. "We really didn't know much of anything about him. I do know he worshiped Lathander."
He noted that in the book.
She continued, "We'll see if Copper or anyone else can tell you more."
"Basic internment is one shard. He'll be given space in one of the crypts and his name will be written on the board outside. There are more formal internments, though we can't offer much in the way of luxury right now."
Zariel said hesitantly, "We'll have to ask Copper about that."
Pariah fished a silver piece out of her pouch and put it on the desk. Regardless of other considerations, the man had a business to run. "We'll at least cover basic internment," she said. "If someone wants more than that, they can come see you."
He took the coin and made a notation in the ledger. "I can hold him for two days, but then I'll have to lay him to rest. Sorry, but I don't have a lot of space."
"Understandable," Pariah replied. "We'll go see Copper tonight."
He left the ledger open so the ink could dry. He leaned back and asked with a polite smile, "Is there anything else?"
Zariel said, "I don't think so," with an inquiring look at the group.
Pariah hesitated, but then asked, "Did you know the man called for the lottery tonight?"
Gregor's slight smile faded and his eyes looked sad. "Not really. I knew his name. I know a friend of his wife's, and I have probably spoken with him once or twice, but I didn't know him directly." He cocked his head. "Why?"
She realized she didn't have an answer for him. She wasn't sure why she'd asked the question. "I don't know," she admitted. "Most of us," she motioned to the group, "are from outside Ten-Towns. The lottery is new to us."
"And?" he asked, his eyes and tone hardening as though daring her to object to the practice.
She made a placating gesture. "And it must be hard to make those kinds of decisions for the survival of the towns." To the others she said, "We should probably go."
They exited the office back out into the cold afternoon, and started their journey north to the House of the Morninglord. They saw several small groups of people traveling along the narrow streets, more than they'd seen in previous visits to the town. Pariah realized they were all coming from their left, which is where the main plaza was. They were probably heading home after the lottery. She had a perverse desire to stop one of the groups and ask them how they were feeling, though not in an accusatory or judgmental way. She was curious what kind of thoughts were running through their heads. Relief at not being selected? Sorrow over the fact someone was going to die tonight, especially if it was someone they knew? Anger at Auril, or even at the speaker for allowing this to happen? All of the above?
She was lost in dark thoughts when they reached the House of the Morninglord, which did nothing to improve her mood. The replacement doors and windows hadn't arrived yet; she remembered that they were supposed to be finished a couple of days after the New Moon. The windows were still stuffed with furs to try to keep the heat in. The hastily scrawled sign announcing the closure of the temple hung on the patchwork door. No light came from inside.
Possibly remembering how hard it had been to get his attention last time, Zariel didn't bother knocking on the door. Instead she shouted up towards the second floor, "Copper! Are you home? It's Zariel. We bring news of Macreadus."
There was silence from inside the house. After a while, Dejen said, "He might have gone to the lottery."
Zariel opened her mouth to answer, but then they heard the latch move. The door opened to reveal the gnome, Copper, holding an oil lamp and wearing his fuzzy winter suit. His blonde beard and long mustache were bushy and unkempt. He gazed at them with lifeless amber eyes. "Come in," he said, opening the door wider. As they entered the space, he waved towards the steps and said, "Let's go upstairs to my room."
The main entry was still empty, other than the oil stove that struggled to heat the space. The curtain that led deeper into the house was open, but showed nothing other than a dark hallway that led out of sight.
They went up the wooden steps to his room on the second floor. It was warm here, and homey in a way. He motioned to the sofa as he put the lamp on the desk and turned the chair in front of it to face the room. Pariah and Bjarnson remained standing while the other three sat on the sofa and Lulu stood on a bookshelf. Copper looked them over, his eyes stopping on Pariah. He looked her up and down and said sadly to her, "I gather it's not good news."
Confused, she asked, "Why do you say that?"
He nodded towards her outfit. "You're wearing his clothes."
Pariah looked down at herself, realized he was right, and felt a flush rising in her face. "Oh, gods," she said. "I'm so sorry. I should have thought of that." She started to take off her cloak. "You should have these."
"No, no," he said quickly, raising a hand and giving her a sad smile. "Please, keep them. They'll serve you well. He's had them for years."
"Years?" Pariah said, more confused than before. She looked at the cloak she had removed. "These are brand new."
"No," he shook his head. "I know they seem like it. That's why he liked them. They don't need laundering or mending. I don't know where he got them, but he never wore anything else when he went outside. That's how I know he must be gone. I mean maybe you just robbed him, though you people don't really seem the type. So I figure that means he must just be...gone."
There was a pause and an exchange of glances as everyone processed what he'd just said. Pariah felt incredibly self conscious, and wanted to excuse herself to change into another outfit, but she just stood there awkwardly, still holding the cloak in one hand.
Zariel leaned forward and said gently, "Yes, I'm afraid there was an accident with the device he was working on. There was an unexpected release of energy. He didn't survive."
"I see," he nodded. "When the sun reappeared, I thought the madman had succeeded. But I guess not."
"Actually, he did succeed," Dejen told him. "He helped us redesign the device to control the energy release, and it did counteract the Rime as you saw. Unfortunately the effect was only temporary, and the stone at its center was destroyed upon activation." He pulled the Summer Star from inside his cloak and held it out to the gnome.
Copper stared at it for a moment and then reached out to take it. He placed it in his lap and started tracing the inscriptions with a finger. "So he was alive when you arrived?"
"Well, no," Dejen said in embarrassment. "It's...he was..." He looked to the rest of the group.
Pariah said, "His spirit remained in the cabin. I spoke to him. He refused to move on until his work was done."
Copper laughed bitterly and then wiped his eyes. "That sounds like him," he choked out.
Pariah told him what had happened at the Black Cabin, or at least most of the story. She certainly saw no reason to describe the condition of his body, and didn't tell him about the berserker attack after. At first she played down Macreadus's bad temper, but he actually seemed to gain comfort from hearing the truth about his friend's tantrums. And Pariah realized that they had been friends -- friends who disagreed and argued and yelled, but clearly friends.
He listened to the story with a nostalgic smile, gazing down at the metal rings in his lap and occasionally wiping tears from his eyes.
"And you think his spirit moved on?" he asked when the story was finished.
"I do," Zariel said emphatically. Pariah wasn't so sure, though she saw no reason to contradict the woman. For all they knew, Macreadus would be trapped there for eternity. She didn't know that they'd ever be sure. She'd certainly rather believe that he'd moved on, though.
He gave Zariel a grateful smile and then looked back down at the Summer Star. "Without the stone, I suppose this is nothing more than scrap metal. Maybe Blackiron can melt it down into something useful."
"Um," Dejen said hesitantly. "If you are just going to discard it, may I have it? I'd like to study it some more."
Copper shrugged. "Sure," he said listlessly, holding the device out.
"Thank you," Dejen gushed with a wide grin as he reverently took the Summer Star and stowed it inside his cloak.
"I hope you figure something out, but without another piece of that strange rock, I'm not sure how useful it is. He never told me where he found it. Got angry if I even asked. He took his secret to the grave, for all the good that did."
"He told us," Pariah blurted out. She wasn't sure if she should say anything, but it seemed wrong that this man didn't know. "He showed us on a map where he found a tower he believed broke off a Netherese city that fell here centuries ago."
Copper stared at her in disbelief. "He told you?" he said in wonder.
"He did. I mean he didn't want to but, like you said, taking the secret to his grave didn't do him any good. He showed us on a map."
He grunted thoughtfully. "Are you going to look for it?"
"We are," Pariah said. "The secret to stopping the Rime might still be there." Impulsively she added, "Would you like to go with us?"
She wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not, but it seemed like if anyone had a right to the discovery, it was this man here. She realized she probably should have asked the rest of the group before extending the invitation, but it was too late now.
Copper laughed. "Gods no," he said emphatically. "I really want nothing to do with his mad plan. I mean good luck to you, and I hope you find what you are looking for, but I spent too long tangled in his insanity. Good riddance."
The conversation lapsed into silence. After a bit, Zariel said, "Did he have family in the area? We brought his remains to the cemetery keeper and are unsure what his final wishes would be."
He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. He never talked about himself, his past, his friends, anything but his work. Hell, he wouldn't talk about the weather or what he wanted for dinner." He sighed. "I'll go to the cemetery and figure out what to do with him."
Another silence ensued. Pariah thought again about the idea of turning the former temple into a homeless shelter, but this didn't seem like the right time, plus they had never talked to Mishann's son. She said, "Well, we should probably go unless we can do anything else for you."
"No, thank you," he said gratefully. "Thank you so much for going to see him. At least now I know."
She looked down at the cloak still draped over her arm. "Are you sure you don't want his clothes? Especially if they have some kind of enchantment. They'd be worth selling if nothing else."
"No, no," he said with a wave of his hand. "Please keep them. It's a small price for your trouble for checking on him." He gave her a half smile. "Especially your trouble. I'd rather someone wear them."
The others had risen from their seats. Zariel pulled something out of a pocket and held it out to him. "You should at least have this," she said.
It was Macreadus's religious symbol. He took it from her with shaking fingers, his eyes shining. "Thank you," he said. "I suppose I should have some kind of keepsake."
He escorted them downstairs, his lamp leading the way, and back outside. Pariah looked at the makeshift door and said, "The replacements should arrive any day now. Are you going to need help installing them?"
He studied the patchwork of wood and said, "No, I think I can manage, thank you. It will give me something to do." He nodded towards them and said, "Well, have a safe journey. Thank you again for bringing me the news about Macreadus."
There was a chorus of goodbyes, and then he closed the door.
"Head to the inn I guess?" Pariah asked the others.
Zariel replied, "I think I will head to the town hall and ask the sheriff if I could accompany the sacrifice expedition to bring Lathander's blessing."
Pariah felt her mouth turning into a grimace. "We shouldn't split up. I'm not sure we're safe here. We still don't know how much the Aurilites have learned about Janus's death."
"I imagine they have other priorities than us tonight," Zariel said. "I think I'll be safe in the sheriff's company."
Pariah didn't think going out into the wilderness was a good idea, though she could respect Zariel's motivations. "The Northlook is close. Let's at least get our rooms and drop off our things, and then we'll go see the sheriff together."
"They will be leaving soon," Zariel said. "I don't want to miss them."
Eberic shook his head. "They won't leave until nightfall. Dejen, how far away is that?"
"Hmm?" the man said, lost in his own thoughts. "Oh, well, let me see." He fished out his timepiece. "It looks like it will be another hour. Maybe a bit more."
"Plenty of time," the dwarf told Zariel. "I agree with Pariah; let's get rooms at the inn first."
Zariel nodded reluctantly, and the group made their way westward through the narrow streets. It took only minutes to reach the main road that led to the North Gate to their left. Ahead of them was the stone inn with the pitched roof, brightly lit by exterior lanterns, and yet strangely quiet like it had been when they'd been in town before.
Inside, the common room was mostly empty, certainly the least crowded Pariah had seen it in her time here. Scramsax the innkeeper, a strapping man in his fifties with a scar on his cheek, was leaning against the wall behind the bar, next to the stuffed knucklehead trout known as Ol' Bitey. "Afternoon," he nodded at the group with a welcoming smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Rooms for five people," Pariah said.
"Six dragons," he replied. "Or five if one of you is willing to share a room with a stranger."
Pariah looked over at Eberic, since he was always the one who took the odd room. He grumbled, "Six dragons it is then."
Pariah had planned to pay, but Eberic was already putting coins on the bar. Scramsax said, "A round of hot mead to warm you up?"
"Not just yet," she said. "We may be heading out after dropping off our things."
Eberic took the three keys that Scramsax fetched from beneath the bar, and they filed up the stairs to the second floor. The rooms weren't bunched together; Pariah wondered if that meant the inn was fairly full. Maybe the lottery was a big tourist attraction. The keys were distributed and they dropped their packs in each room. Eberic reluctantly agreed to take possession of the bundle of chardalyn weapons. Despite his assurances that it took long-term, direct contact with the crystal for the corruption to take hold, Pariah would be glad when they got rid of them.
They gathered in Dejen and Bjarnson's room to talk about their next step.
Zariel reiterated, "I'm going to go talk to the sheriff about joining the sacrifice expedition."
Eberic scowled and said firmly, "I won't go watch them leave someone to die."
Pariah felt guilty about it, but said, "Yeah, I don't want to see that either."
"Me, too," Dejen said sheepishly.
"Of course," Zariel said. She didn't seem disappointed in their reactions. "None of you need to accompany me. Lulu, you should stay here."
"I should be with you," the asteri objected.
"Not this time. Stay here so we can remain in contact."
"I guess," Lulu said in disappointment.
Bjarnson stood from where he'd been sitting on the bed. "I'll go with you. It would probably be best for the others to stay here in the inn. If the Aurilites plan to move against us, I wouldn't think they'd do it in such a public place."
The reminder of the possibility of attack almost made Pariah change her mind about going with them. Both Zariel and Bjarnson were still recovering from their injuries. Pariah wasn't ready for a fight -- she hadn't replaced her armor yet -- but she didn't want to abandon them. On the other hand, she didn't think she could walk away from someone staked out to die in the wilderness, so she didn't volunteer.
"We should at least walk you to the town hall," she suggested. Then, remembering that Dejen might want to meet with his Harper contact, quickly added, "Eberic, you should stay here. You need the rest. We won't be gone long. Lulu, why don't you stay with him. Dejen, we can go with them to the town hall."
That plan seemed good to them all, so they headed back downstairs so Eberic could start drinking while the rest headed back out into the cold.
Notes:
Pariah's outfit is a set of clothes of mending or, more specifically, cold weather clothes of mending.
Chapter 80: Scapegoat
Summary:
It is the night of the New Moon and a new sacrifice is to be taken out into the wilderness near Bryn Shander. Zariel wants to accompany the expedition.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 16, 1496 (New Moon)
"This isn't a spectacle," Sheriff Southwell barked at them. "Seek your entertainment elsewhere!"
"My intentions are nothing of the sort," Zariel assured him smoothly. "I merely wish to go along as a representative of Amaunator. This man deserves the blessing of the Morninglord for his brave sacrifice."
"The blessing of the Frostmaiden is all he needs," insisted a tall slim human with a nasal voice. His red hair was unkempt, his beard scruffy, and his piercing blue eyes wild. If his comment hadn't made it obvious, the six-pointed snowflake hanging from around his neck marked him as an Aurilite.
A procession of three sleds was gathered at the Southwest Gate. Zariel and her companions had caught up to them just as they were getting ready to leave town. At the front of each sled, holding the reins leading to the dog team, was one of the town guard. Riding behind the drivers were two more soldiers, the red-headed man, the sheriff, and the man who was clearly the victim. The latter was a middle-aged human man with thinning blonde hair, wind-burned skin and a thick beard that was darker than his hair. His eyes were closed and he was whispering to himself as he held tightly to a pendant in the shape of a gauntlet, the symbol of Torm. Nearby, a teenage boy and a dark-haired woman of around the same age as the blonde man held each other tightly as they cried.
Zariel turned to the Aurilite with a tight smile and said, "I think anyone in these dire circumstances can use all the blessings he can get."
"She mustn't come," the man insisted to the sheriff. "We've had enough blasphemy, and Auril grows angry with the increasing heresy that has taken root in this town. Defy me and you risk even greater wrath."
Pariah expected Southwell to berate the man, but instead he just took a calming breath as his eyes appealed mutely to the dark sky. He said to Zariel, "We have enough trouble tonight without courting more."
Zariel, rather than addressing Southwell, asked the man, "And who are you to be giving orders to the town sheriff?"
The redhead drew himself up to look down at her -- he was actually an inch or so taller than Zariel, who herself cut quite a impressive figure. His eyes grew more maniacal as he said, "I am Davrick Fain, Auril's chief priest in Icewind Dale, and favored second only to her Chosen." His tone implied she should bow down and kiss his ring.
She inclined her head ever so slightly. "I am Zariel, champion of Lathander and Amaunator, here to bring the glory of the Morninglord to this dark place."
He sneered at her. "The sun has no place here. Amaunator has hidden himself away, fearing the Frostmaiden's wrath, as you should. There is no room for your weak gods here."
Zariel's fists clenched and she growled, "I do not need to defend my god, because his glory speaks for itself. Auril throws tantrums like the child she is, and the gods will punish her trespasses in due time."
"You dare impugn the name of-" he began.
"Enough!" Southwell roared. "Save your petty religious debates for your temples. Tonight, a man is sacrificing himself for the safety of this town and you will both respect that!"
Fain glared defiantly at Southwell, but Zariel looked contrite. "My apologies, sheriff," she said. "You are, of course, correct." She nodded towards the blonde man and said to him, "And we are all grateful for your heroic sacrifice." To the sheriff she continued, "Since the priest of Amaunator was-" She broke off to shoot a look at Fain, and then continued, "Since the priest of Amaunator is not here, I humbly offer myself as a replacement. I intend to stir no trouble, only to pray for this man and bring a measure of the Morninglord's grace to this difficult time." She added an a slightly more defiant tone, "He deserves that small mercy."
Southwell sighed tiredly. "And you?" he demanded of Bjarnson, since both of them had expressed an interest in going along.
Bjarnson hadn't expected the sudden question, and stammered for a moment before saying, "I also mean no harm. I bring the blessing of nature's balance, which encompasses both the light and the darkness, the summer and the winter. I will not interfere with this ceremony, but neither will I stand by and allow others to do so."
Pariah wasn't sure if that last comment was directed at Zariel or Fain or merely a general statement.
The sheriff rubbed his face. "Fine," he said in resignation. "You, back to the barracks," he said to one of the soldiers. "You, go there. You, go there," he directed Bjarnson to ride on the sled with Fain, and Zariel to ride on the third sled. He remained on the sled with the sacrifice. "Everyone else, clear out. Open the gate!"
As the gates slowly opened, Pariah exchanged a glance with Dejen. The two of them had watched silently from the sidelines.
"I hope they will be all right," Dejen said anxiously.
"Me, too," Pariah said. She was yet again doubting her decision to stay behind, but it's not like the sheriff would have approved of another passenger, nor did they have room for one. As the three sleds slipped out the gate into the night, she said, "Shall we go find Beldora so you can report in?"
They headed for the market square, where Beldora could usually be found. As they walked down the street Pariah asked, "How much have you told her about what's been happening?"
"The basics," Dejen replied. "I can send her only a sentence or two per day, but I've gotten good at putting a lot of information in a few words. I told her about the device and its effects, including the magic suppression, about the attack that occurred shortly after, and about the tower and our intention to go there."
"Did she have any advice?"
He shook his head. "Nothing more than to be careful."
"Helpful," Pariah laughed. "I gather there are other Harpers in the area; any chance of getting help?" Pariah wasn't sure she wanted to add strangers to the group, but that last battle had been too close for comfort.
Dejen shrugged. "She won't tell me anything about any other agents or operations. Compartmentalization is core to how the Harpers maintain their secrecy."
"That makes sense, I guess," Pariah sighed.
They arrived at the market to find it deserted. The snow had been trampled by the many feet of the crowd that had been here recently, but nobody was here now. There was light in the windows of the Town Hall but nowhere else. Dejen said, "Maybe she's at Blackiron Blades."
They crossed the plaza to the northern road, and could see her as soon as they turned the corner, sitting out in front of the weapon shop as expected, wearing her patchwork cloak and oversized boots. She looked up as they approached and stood when she recognized them. "Afternoon," she said. She looked around and then beckoned them into the alley beside the shop so they could talk in relative privacy.
Dejen gave her a more complete report of what had happened at the Black Cabin than he had been able to through his communication stone. Beldora listened attentively, occasionally asking questions but mostly just absorbing the information. His voice struggled when talking about Pariah's death but he soldiered on. He told her about the rebuilding of the Summer Star, its apparent Netherese origin, its successful reactivation, and the battle after. He gave a surprisingly detailed retelling of the fight, but he had had the benefit of standing at the edge of it so he had been able to see everything.
Beldora was silent when he was finished. She was leaning back against the wall, her arms crossed, her head bowed in thought. After a while she looked up and asked Pariah, "And how are you doing?"
"Me?" the tiefling said in surprise. "Fine. Why?"
The other woman seemed surprised by her casual response. "Well, you died. I figured that might have made an impression."
"Oh," Pariah replied with a laugh. "Yeah, I guess it did. I don't know, maybe I've seen too much or something because it seemed like just another day to me."
Beldora studied her with a frown. "But you remember everything that happened?"
"Yes."
The woman nodded thoughtfully. "I've known two people who died and were raised. Neither remembered anything about the experience. It's interesting that you did."
Pariah furrowed her brow, trying to detect any kind of negativity or judgment in her tone, but didn't sense any. "I guess," she replied. "I wouldn't know. Never been dead before. Maybe it's because I was stuck here instead of moving on."
"Maybe so," she said.
Pariah was still confused. "Is that a problem?"
"What?" Beldora responded. "Oh, no, not at all." She made a dismissive motion. "Just curiosity. I've seen a lot of death, especially during the last two years. It's gotten me wondering what's waiting there. I know what the priests say, though even they don't agree." Again, she waved the subject away. "Two years in darkness has made me maudlin. So what's your plan now?"
The last question had been directed at Dejen. He replied, "In the short term, Easthaven to drop off the black ice weapons and maybe Caer-Dineval to see if we can find anything about Netheril since it's on the way." Macreadus had located the tower east of Caer-Konig, so they would revisit all three eastern towns on their way.
"Do you plan to involve the Black Sword or their wizard?" she asked grimly.
Dejen looked at Pariah. "I don't know," he replied, raising eyebrows at her.
Pariah added, "We aren't sure. Avarice might be a good resource, and so might the one she serves, but they are hardly trustworthy. I doubt we want to involve them at this point."
Beldora nodded. "That might be best," she said with a hint of relief in her voice. "I'm reluctant to give a devil's cult access to Netherese artifacts."
"Do you know much about Netheril?" Pariah asked.
The other woman put out her hands in a shrug. "Out of my area. It's not like the Netherese are a common threat to Faerûn."
"Yeah, I figured," the tiefling replied. "Do you know of anyone who would? Or any libraries that might have more information?"
Beldora looked up at the dark sky thoughtfully. "The Luskan mages would but, again, they aren't likely to be trustworthy allies. There's a little library at the Town Hall here, but I doubt there's anything as scholarly as that. Mostly just adventure novels and books on hunting or farming."
"That's what the library in Easthaven was like," Pariah nodded. "I wish I could pop back to Candlekeep for a day."
Beldora smirked. "That would be helpful."
There was a moment of silence as it became clear none of them had anything more to say. Pariah said, "Oh, so how's Mere doing?"
"Settling in," she said. "Glad to be back I think. He's a bit..." She struggled for words. "I think he had some bad experiences in Caer-Dineval, but nothing he'll talk about."
Pariah frowned. "I was afraid of that. I'm glad I got him out of there."
"Me too," Beldora said fervently. "Are you going to stop by while you're in town? I can show you where he's staying."
Pariah hesitated. She had thought about that on the trip from Termalaine. She said hesitantly, "Maybe not. I'm worried that the Aurilites are watching us, wanting revenge. I'm afraid they might go after anyone we talk to. Mere's had enough problems; I don't want to bring him more."
"Understandable," she said. "And they have been making some trouble. I keep on good terms with them so I can listen in on their conversations, but you might be right to keep Mere out of it."
"Tell him I said hi," Pariah said. "And if he needs anything..." She left the sentence hanging.
"Nothing at the moment," she replied. "I'm keeping an eye on him, but I'll keep that in mind."
Again they were silent, and Beldora said, "Well, if there's nothing else..."
Dejen said, "I think that's all." Pariah nodded agreement.
Beldora replied, "Well, then, keep on with what you are doing. Keep me posted."
Pariah and Dejen headed back out to the street. She briefly thought about stopping at Blackiron Blades for armor, but the quality of their goods during previous visits hadn't been that great. She figured she'd be better off waiting until they could go to Skin and Bones in Easthaven; she'd just have to hope they didn't get attacked on the way.
They returned to the Northlook to wait for the expedition to return. They joined Eberic and Lulu, and ordered a round of meads. Other than the bartender, there were only two other people in the common room: a dusky-skinned human woman with thick glasses, and a gray-haired gnome wearing multiple layers of shabby clothing. A somber silence hung over the room as everyone stared into their mugs.
As Scramsax came to the table with their drinks, Pariah asked him, "Do you know how long these sacrifice expeditions take?"
"No more'n two hours," he said. "The hill's only a couple miles out of town. I don't think the ceremony itself takes long."
He paused, waiting to see if she had any other questions, and then started to turn away. She blurted out, "Do you support the lottery? Do you think it protects the town?"
He shrugged. "I'm just here to serve drinks," he said, and then he returned to his position behind the bar.
Pariah wasn't really surprised by his noncommittal response. The topic had surely been debated to death in this very room over the last two years. What was left to say?
Until now, even after hearing Eberic's story about his friend, the lottery had been something abstract. But she'd seen the man who was destined to die tonight, seen his wife and son crying. And if that wasn't bad enough, she'd seen the Aurilite priest smirking over him, reveling in the horror he was about to be part of.
She'd seen the worship of the darker gods in Baldur's Gate. She'd seen the actions of the Bhaalists during the Sundering. She'd seen the sailors praying to Umberlee before heading out to sea, not out of devotion but out of terror, pleading with her to spare them should she choose to make the ocean turbulent. She'd seen the tortures inflicted by the cult of the Dead Three in the tunnels under the bath house.
Since her return from Avernus, she'd read various books about the necessity of evil in the world. She and Little One had discussed the subject at length. What made her angry wasn't so much the malevolent gods themselves, but the power structure that let them exist, the apathy to the pain they brought to the mortal world, the excuses about balance.
A man would die afraid tonight while the indifferent gods watched and did nothing.
She drained her mug and raised her empty vessel towards Scramsax to signal for another.
As the dark afternoon wore on towards evening she downed mug after mug, trying to quiet her thoughts. Dejen chattered on about nothing much. Eberic was his usual stoic self.
Lulu kept them informed of what was happening on the sacrifice expedition, and it was not going well. Davrick Fain had continued to taunt Zariel and she was quickly losing patience with him. He was obviously trying to goad her into action in front of the sheriff in order to make himself seem like the victim. Zariel knew that, and yet she was finding it hard to maintain her composure. Bjarnson had been intervening as best he could, trying to turn the man's attention onto him, but Fain continued to harangue Zariel.
And so, as the ceremony ended and all but one returned to the sleds, Pariah and the others decided to meet the expedition at the East Gate to offer moral support and to whisk Zariel away from Fain as quickly as they arrived. If necessary, they would also be there as backup in case a fight did break out. Eberic had insisted on coming along, and they were armed and armored for combat. Pariah had no illusions of how it would go if Zariel did attack Fain, whether they defeated him or not. Southwell would almost certainly kick them out of town. He didn't seem to care so much who was in the right; he was just trying to keep order. And while Pariah sympathized with Zariel's position, she knew there was no version of events that would make them the heroes. It was likely they, not Fain, would be banished. Let the man needle and taunt them. True victory meant breaking the Everlasting Rime, not a brawl with a loudmouthed priest.
"Open the gate," a voice called down from the wall. "Move the barricade."
As the gates slowly opened, soldiers picked up the wooden palisade blocking the main road and moved it to the side. The three sleds didn't even have to slow down to wait for an opening, though Sheriff Southwell raised his hand and called the expedition to a stop as soon as they were clear of the inner courtyard and past the palisade.
He turned and pointed to Zariel. "You! Off the sled. Start walking that way." He pointed down a narrow street to the north. "Walk around the perimeter of the city to the Northlook and stay there. You, too!" He pointed to Bjarnson.
Scandalized, Zariel said, "Sheriff, I fail to-"
"Now!" he barked. "And you!" he pointed to Fain. "Stay on the sled and keep your mouth shut. You will accompany us to the kennel and I will personally escort you back to your lodgings. I've had quite enough of both of you!"
Smoothly, Fain said, "I think that-"
"And you will both shut up!" Southwell roared, "or I will arrest you, shove you both in a cell and let you fight it out. But for right now, you will both be quiet!"
Zariel glowered at Fain. He looked back at her smugly and the tension rose. Many hands went to weapons as everyone waited for the fight to start, but then Zariel let out a breath and stepped off the sled. Bjarnson did the same.
"Let's go!" Southwell snapped, and the sleds headed down the road.
Zariel stared after the sleds, the fury radiating off her. The one positive sign was that no sparks of energy chased themselves around her, which led Pariah to believe that she was keeping her anger under control. The town guards were still on the alert, every one of them watching her. Lulu flew over to land on her shoulder. "Zariel, let's go," she said gently.
The woman continued to stare as the sleds went around a bend and out of sight, and then she turned and started walking down the road to the north.
Notes:
Davrick Fain is from Legend of the Crystal Shard.
Chapter 81: The Cruelty of Mortals
Summary:
As a new morning arrives, the party reflects on the ethics of human sacrifice.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 17, 1496 (1 day after the New Moon)
The room at the Northlook was dark and chilly when Pariah woke up. Of course it was always dark and chilly, which made it hard to tell if it was morning or not. She lay there for a bit but decided she wasn't really interested in going back to sleep.
She sat up, swung her legs off the bed and stretched with a groan. The lamp on the wall was unlit and the single window had both shutters and a curtain of heavy fur, but a glimmer of light from the hall shone through the gap under the door. It would be barely enough for a human to make out shapes; it was enough for a tiefling to make out the entire room in shades of gray that gave her a chilling reminder of her brief time in the Border Ethereal.
Zariel was lying on her back in the other bed, her hands folded over her stomach. Her eyes were open and she was staring at the ceiling. She didn't look over as Pariah sat up. The tiefling said softly, "Good morning."
"Good morning," the other woman answered back, still not looking over.
Pariah watched her, sensing a profound melancholy. "You all right?" she asked.
Zariel didn't answer for a long time. "I don't know," she finally replied. "I've been up most of the night meditating on mortal cruelty."
"Ah," Pariah replied. It was a little early in the morning for such a heavy conversation, but sometimes these things came out of sleepless nights. Zariel hadn't wanted to talk about anything that had happened on the expedition the previous night; maybe she was ready now. Pariah said, "I assume this is about what happened yesterday."
"Yes. Well, at least that's what started my contemplation." She fiddled with her ring that bore the symbol of Lathander. "We rode out to the site. A wooden stake had been driven into the ground at the top of a hill. The wood was old. Weathered. Covered in dark stains that I can only assume is blood. The wind has scoured the top of the hill of snow and vegetation. I saw a few bones scattered about, though not many. I guess they leave the victims to nature rather than recovering them for internment."
She continued to stare at the ceiling in the darkness. "I expected the man to beg for his life, but he didn't. He was frightened and prayed to Torm, but faced his destiny resolutely. Fain gave a brief sermon about penance and obedience and the glory of sacrifice to Auril." Her voice hardened as she spoke. "When he was done, Southwell allowed me to say a brief prayer for him. I struggled to find the words but in the end asked that the Morninglord grant him a swift end and rewards in the next world. The sheriff was willing to let Bjarnson speak, but his spirituality is not one of prayer and sermons so he declined."
She inhaled and released a shaky breath. "They stripped the man naked and tied him to the stake. He started to cry but he still didn't beg for rescue. He shook violently, though I didn't know if it was from fear or the cold. Southwell ordered everyone back on the sleds and we just...drove off. Drove into the night. There was no moon of course, and heavy clouds blocked even the starlight, but looking behind us I could see the silhouette of the hill and the man atop it, on his knees and hunched over."
Zariel grew quiet again and Pariah could see her jaw muscles clenching. After a while, Zariel said, "How can people do that? I didn't even know this man and I wanted to leap off the sled and go back to free him. This is a small town. I imagine the sheriff or the soldiers with us knew him, and yet they left him there to die alone in the cold and the dark. How can your people be so cruel to each other?"
Pariah frowned at that last remark. "Don't blame us," she said. "Sure, mortals can be cruel, but we aren't the ones who did this. You know what happened at Targos when Eberic interfered with the sacrifice. It was Auril, one of the gods, who made this happen. And it's Auril who will punish this town if they refuse to participate. And you-" She forced herself to stop and not finish that sentence.
For the first time that morning, Zariel turned to look at her, though she probably couldn't see anything but the tiefling's silhouette in the dim light. "Me what?" she prompted.
"Forget it," Pariah said.
"Please, what were you going to say?" She didn't sound angry, but her tone was insistent.
"Forget it," Pariah repeated. That wasn't a conversation that was likely to go anywhere constructive.
Zariel resumed staring at the ceiling. After a while she asked, "Why do you travel with me?"
Pariah hesitated, confused by the change in subject. "What?"
"Why do you travel with me? I know you want to stop the Everlasting Rime, but you've proven you are dedicated and resourceful. You could probably manage to figure something out with the right allies. But why do you continue to travel with me considering who I am?"
Pariah felt a surge of anger, which surprised her. Then again, it probably shouldn't have. She had been pointedly avoiding asking herself that very question for nearly a month now. It was all well and good to believe in redemption, but she had seen some of the pain Zariel had caused, and she knew that was only a tiny fraction of what she had really done, both as a devil and an angel.
"I'm not sure who you are," Pariah replied, hearing the sharpness in her voice. "Not right now anyhow. I have an idea of who you used to be, and there are a couple different versions of that, but I'm trying to focus on this person here." She gestured in Zariel's direction.
"Are you? It seems like you feel some anger about the things I've done, and that's why I wonder why you stay with me."
Again, emotions surged in Pariah. "I don't think this is something worth talking about," she said. "We need to work together and maybe we shouldn't poke some of those sore spots. None of that is going to help us figure out what to do about Auril or the duergar or Levistus."
"I suppose not," Zariel admitted. "But my personal journey isn't just about them. I'm still trying to figure out what Lathander wants of me, how I can return to his good graces. You've talked about how you believe in redemption, about how those who have sinned can grow into moral people, but redemption is a process of change not a sudden transformation. I can't leave my darkest parts behind until I can understand them, both in me and in others. How can I seek growth among mortals if the mortals are as cruel as I was?" She turned to Pariah again. "You seem to have some kind of faith in me and I'm not sure why."
Pariah let out a heavy sigh. She wasn't mentally prepared for this conversation, plus her body was realizing it was awake and starting to crave breakfast. She said, "It's because of Lulu."
The asteri was currently back in Mount Celestia, as she was most nights.
Pariah continued, "She never stopped believing in you in Avernus. At first I thought she was just in denial of what you'd become and, to be fair, that was part of it. But even after Bel showed her visions of the worst you had done, she never lost faith that we could save you. It hurt her to see the truth, but she insisted that's not who you really were deep down." Pariah leaned back, leaning on her palms against the thin mattress. "I met the devil Zariel, and I've gotten to know the mortal Zariel, but she knew the angel Zariel, the person you were for hundreds or thousands of years before either of those. And I don't mean the angel Zariel who lead the charge into Hell, but the angel Zariel who served faithfully and refused to turn her back on Heaven when Ashmedai and other angels did." She shook her head. "Look, I don't know what Lathander has in store for you. I know you are an insanely complicated person with an insanely complicated past. I've seen your rage and it's terrifying, but I've seen your compassion and loyalty. And I've seen the loyalty you inspired in Lulu." She shrugged. "I don't know, somehow all of that boils down to a person who I think might have a good future or something like that."
Zariel nodded contemplatively. "And you seem to have faith in mortals. You wish to help people even though people can be cruel."
Pariah laughed bitterly. She had been the target of her fair share of cruelty in her life. "Some can, sure, but I'm not going to punish everyone just because some people are awful."
"You think most people are good?"
Pariah looked up at the ceiling as she considered the question. "I think most people are neither. Or both. I mean I guess I feel most people lean a little more towards being decent than being horrible, even if that decency extends only to their friends and family. But that doesn't matter. What matters is who I choose to be. I don't like a world full of horrible people, so I'm not going to be one of them."
Zariel made a thoughtful noise. "That's actually a very wise perspective."
Pariah didn't think she needed to sound quite so surprised about that, but didn't comment on it. She said, "All you can do is take it a day at a time. Decide who you want to be, and work at being that person."
"That's harder than it seems," Zariel sighed. She pushed aside the blanket and sat up. "My head is often full of a chaotic swirl of emotions and ideas, and I don't know if that's how a mortal mind works, or if it means that this brain can't physically contain my thoughts and memories. Fragments of who I was compete for attention, and some of those fragments are parts of me I'd rather leave behind." She shuddered. "And yet those corrupt thoughts have a certain appeal. The simplicity of anger and violence and cruelty calls to me sometimes, and I want to-"
She broke off and looked up at Pariah with a guilty expression. "Not that I would, of course," she said quickly. "I just...I'm sorry, perhaps I shouldn't speak of such things."
Pariah waved off her concerns. "It's not like it's a surprise. I've seen flashes of that part of you. I'm not going to lie: it scares me when I see that. It scares Lulu too. Nobody wants to see you go back to that."
"I won't!" Zariel stated emphatically. "I admit to having trouble controlling my anger, but I will never let it consume me like I did before."
"Well, you did manage to avoid murdering Fain, so that's progress," Pariah teased.
She had intended that comment as a joke, but Zariel nodded gloomily. "I came closer to lashing out at him than I would have liked. If he and I had been alone..." She trailed off with a shrug. "I'm ashamed to say that the presence of the sheriff may have been the only thing that kept me from rash action. That foul man's smugness, his blasphemy of the Morninglord, his enthusiasm for the terrible ritual we were taking part in, it all enraged me." She twisted her ring. "I remind myself that Lathander is watching and I don't want to disappoint him, but in my darker moments I tend to believe he's abandoned me and it doesn't matter what I do."
Pariah said, "First of all, you know he hasn't abandoned you because you can wield his power."
"That's true, I suppose," Zariel admitted.
"And second, you shouldn't be living for his approval. Do the right thing because it's the right thing, not because some beard in the sky might give you a pat on the head. You think mortals are corrupt? Then be the kind of mortal you want the rest of us to be." Anger surged again. "Fuck the gods. I'm sorry, but fuck the gods. Yeah, I know they have their place in the cosmic whatever, but in the end we mortals have to make our own path and our own fortune. They may step in occasionally, but far more often they do nothing, or send a bunch of us stupid mortals to die trying to fix their fuckups. Show the gods respect, fine, but don't live for them. Don't waste your life trying to figure out their cryptic messages and their confusing morality."
Her voice was getting loud, so Pariah leaned forward to hiss a whisper at her. "You did some terrible things, and you carry responsibility for that." She pointed aggressively at the ceiling. "But what did they do to stop you? You broke the rules, you endangered mortals, you fell into Hell and spent decades there, you snatched a city of mortals from the Material Plane, and what did they do? Maybe, maybe, they guided us to stop you. Maybe they forced us to endure indescribable hardship in the hopes that we could find some way to beat an archdevil. But why didn't the all-knowing gods stop you long before? Why didn't they stop you when you were still recruiting an army in Elturel? At least you are trying to atone for what you did. What the fuck are they doing to make up for the horror all those people in Elturel went through?"
Zariel was staring at her, stunned. Pariah took a breath and leaned back again. "Sorry," she mumbled. "That all touched a nerve, I guess."
"It's all right," Zariel said hesitantly. "You have been through a lot at their hands, you personally. I know you resent being here in Icewind Dale."
"No, that's not true," Pariah sighed. "I'm happy to help if I have the ability to do so. But I'm not here for the gods. Lathander -- and I mean this in the nicest, most respectful way -- can kiss my ass. I'm here for the victims of the gods, the innocent mortals who yet again get caught in the middle. I wish you people would fight your battles on your home turf and stop messing up our world with this shit." She heaved another sigh. "Again, sorry. That's not directed at you."
Zariel gave her a one-sided smile. "It's all right. I've been aware of your somewhat rebellious attitude towards the gods since before we met. Well before we met at Candlekeep anyhow. Lulu talked about all of you a lot, though the reality is maybe a little more...real than I expected."
Pariah grinned. "Lulu tends to focus on just the best parts of people. Look, that's all the philosophical discussion I can handle on an empty stomach. I'm going to head down and see if they've started serving breakfast yet."
They put on their boots and headed down to the main room. Bjarnson was there, sitting alone eating a bowl of stew. A human man and woman sat at another table. Neither of them wore Auril's symbol so Pariah relaxed a little. Scramsax was nowhere to be seen, but the communal pot simmered as usual so Pariah and Zariel helped themselves and then joined Bjarnson. Lack of a barman meant no coffee, tea or mead though.
After an exchange of good mornings, Pariah asked him, "Do you know what time it is?"
He swallowed his latest bite of stew and said, "I poked my head out a bit ago and the aurora is gone so it must be after six, though I'd guess not much after."
Pariah nodded as she raised a spoonful of stew. "I guess we'll leave when the others get up?" she said before taking a bite.
"I assume so," he said. "Were you going to go to Blackiron before we do?"
"Nah," she said. "I think I'll do that in Easthaven."
His brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I feel like we are due for an attack soon, considering our past luck."
She chuckled and said, "True, but I'll take my chances." Then she paused and said, "Well, maybe I'll get a shield before we go; there isn't much difference between a good one and a bad one. But I'd rather wait on the armor."
"Makes sense," he admitted. "You should ride with me, then. If we do get attacked, I have magic that can make your skin like the bark of a tree." He looked thoughtful. "In fact, that might be worth casting on you before we leave. It should last most of the trip."
"Thanks, but I'm pretty quick on my feet. I hate to see you waste magic on something that might not be needed."
They finished their meals and then sat around talking about nothing for a bit. Zariel summoned Lulu back, and her bubbly spirit raised their mood, though Zariel was still introspective and gloomy. Lulu quieted down after a while and Pariah guessed she and Zariel were having a telepathic conversation.
Scramsax came out of his room, which was behind the bar and next to the small kitchen in the back. He greeted everyone and started preparing a large urn of coffee. While that brewed, he put out goat cheese, honey and walrus blubber on the table next to the stew. A halfling woman came down into the common room, and the human couple headed out into the dark morning. Pariah could see through the front door as it opened that a heavy fog had descended on the town.
Pariah and Bjarnson were talking about waking the others when Dejen and Eberic came down the stairs to join them.
Bjarnson said, "So, Easthaven at first light? Should take about an hour and a half."
They exchanged glances and then a general shrug of agreement went around the table. Dejen said, "Are we going to continue to Caer-Dineval after that?"
The group's reaction to that idea was less enthusiastic. He added timidly, "I would like to see Culver again. If nothing else he might have information about..." He trailed off and glanced over at the halfling woman, who didn't seem to be paying attention to them. He finished quietly, "...about the tower and the device we found."
"I suppose that's true," Pariah said reluctantly. "And maybe...no, never mind. Let's go visit the tower first before we decide to talk to Avarice or anyone in the castle."
Zariel said, "I would rather not involve them at all."
"I tend to agree," Pariah replied. "But an expert on..." She also glanced at the halfling woman. "...the history of the area might be valuable." It would have been easier to talk about this in a crowded room. The quiet meant their conversation could be heard by anyone. "But let's go to Easthaven for now and decide what to do after we get there."
Bjarnson added, "And we should probably stay the night in Easthaven before moving on anyhow. We're all still recovering."
Pariah realized she'd seen him occasionally rub his temples that morning. "How's your head?"
He shrugged. "Getting better. I still get headaches, but they don't seem to be as bad as before."
She said to Eberic, "And how's your chest?"
"Fine," he said as he shoveled a hunk of blubber into his mouth. His answer could have meant anything from "completely healthy" to "seconds from death". He didn't seem in obvious pain, but she knew the wound had been deep.
Bjarnson told him, "I want to look at your injury before we leave this morning." Before Eberic could object, he added, "I promised Marrit I would check it every day."
Eberic scowled at him, grunted, and went back to eating.
Notes:
Zariel's introspection ended up being longer than I'd planned, but it was an important moment in her development.
Chapter 82: Books of Blank Pages
Summary:
The group returns to Easthaven, hoping to dispose of the black ice weapons they got from the berserkers.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 17, 1496 (1 day after the New Moon)
The trip from Bryn Shander to Easthaven was fast. Bjarnson had been concerned that the thick fog would force them to travel more slowly to avoid getting lost, but the mist disappeared once they got a short distance from the town. Pariah looked behind them to see the bank of mist enveloping Bryn Shander; the town was apparently still cursed by Auril.
The air was icy but still, and no snow blew ahead of them to block their view. They could see Kelvin's Cairn dominating the horizon to their left. The land was flat and, other than the small wooded area a few miles outside the town, treeless so there was nowhere for potential ambushers to hide. No animals gave them a suspicious level of attention. The only activity they saw was a pair of guard patrols, one from each town. Pariah relaxed a little, though remained vigilant.
The dogs ran full out and it took less than an hour to cover the distance between the town. They arrived to the now familiar weathered sign welcoming them to Easthaven and warning them to watch their pouches; she remembered that pickpocketing was legal in this town. Two guards were huddled by a fire near the sign. They gave the sled a friendly wave but didn't motion them to stop, so the party continued into town towards the kennel.
After dropping off the sleds and dogs, they shouldered their packs and headed down the road towards the lake shore. They still had the black ice weapons from the berserkers, the wrapped bundle currently being carried by Eberic, and they wanted to drop those off but the White Lady Inn was only slightly out of their way so they decided to drop off their possessions first.
The wind was still quiet, though it picked up a bit as they reached the shore, blowing in from the lake. It was less intense than usual, which was a relief. They saw the familiar sights of the iced-in ferry and the gray stone buildings with steeply pitched roofs that lined the shore. They opened the door to the White Lady and heard the dull clank of the broken bell. The warmth and smell of the wood fire was a relief after their trip.
There was nobody behind the narrow counter, nor in the dining room to the left. They waited for someone to appear but nobody came out. Finally Eberic called out, "Hello?"
A sour voice replied, "I'll be out in a moment." They continued to wait until Bartaban the innkeeper came out of the kitchen and walked unhurriedly to the front. "Welcome to the White Lady," he said in a bored tone. "How many rooms?"
"Three," said the dwarf.
"That'll be five and five," he said. "That includes meals of stew. Mead's half a dragon. Water's free; serve yourself out of the barrel." He didn't seem to recognize them from their past visits, but then he didn't really look at them. He just looked at the money they put on the counter.
"Where's Rinaldo?" Lulu asked.
Bartaban snorted. "Off sulking somewhere. His pet ghost isn't coming when he calls so he's trying to come up with something other than those damn fool séances."
Zariel asked, "When did this happen? The disappearance of the White Lady I mean."
Bartaban shrugged. "About a tenday ago I guess." He put three keys on the counter.
"Around the time they interred the bodies that were recovered from the wilderness?"
He shrugged again. "Maybe." He turned and walked away, headed back towards the kitchen, the conversation obviously over.
"Well, that's some good news," Zariel said, looking after him. "It seems we did lay her soul to rest after all."
After dropping their packs in their rooms, they gathered in the front again to talk about their plans. Zariel said, "We wish to drop the black ice weapons at the town hall. Pariah, I know you wanted to buy a new set of leathers. I'd like to talk to the carpenter to check on the status of the doors and windows for Copper's house. Was there anything else?"
Pariah added, "I want to look in the library in the town hall." She lowered her voice, though there didn't seem to be anyone in earshot. "I doubt they'll have any books about Netheril, but maybe we'll get lucky. Even a history of the area might be helpful."
"That's a good idea," Zariel said. "Then let's all go to the Town Hall first. I want to be rid of these evil things as quickly as possible."
"At least they don't give you nightmares," Pariah said as she opened the outer door.
"Nightmares?" Bjarnson asked in confusion.
"Let me tell you about these things called soul coins," she said as they all headed out of the inn.
The town hall was a few blocks away so she had time to tell them only about the basic idea of souls trapped in coins and used as currency, and the terrible nightmares they caused. She wasn't going to tell them about how they were also used as fuel by the war machines, but had planned to describe the strange things she saw in her dreams or when touching the coins.
However, they arrived at the town hall before she could begin so she said, "I'll tell you more later."
They entered the large, high-ceilinged reception area at the front of the town hall. A human woman with bright blue eyes and hair streaked white and black was sitting behind the reception counter, and she wished them a good morning.
Eberic put the bundle on the desk and said, "We have some black ice weapons we'd like to turn in."
The woman shied away from the bundle, looking as though it was about to bite her. "Let me get the speaker. He oversees all chardalyn collection."
As the receptionist stood, Pariah interjected, "I'm just going to pop up to the library while they're talking."
The woman nodded and said brightly, "That's just up the stairs to the left, third floor, all the way at the back. The librarian is named Ruam."
Pariah knew that, since she'd already been up there when they'd spent two nights in the storeroom, but she just gave a grateful nod and smile in return. She headed for the stairs behind the reception with Dejen tagging along behind.
The steps split at the landing, going left and right. A sign on the wall said the event room was to the right, while to the left was the small claims court, the fishing permit office, and the library. The left stairway led up to a narrow hallway that went past the first two offices, both empty at the moment, and ended in another stairway up to the library.
The library was about half the size of the reception area. Four sets of wooden shelves held a haphazard collection of dusty books and scrolls that were in no order Pariah had been able to figure out. The room smelled of dust and leather and tobacco smoke. Three windows on the east side let in a little light but most of the illumination came from the oil lamps on the walls. On the west side of the room were six padded leather chairs and an equal number of wooden footstools that doubled as low tables. A doorway led into a hall, and she knew there were a half-dozen rooms that could be rented out as offices or storage space.
Sitting in one of the chairs was a half-elven man wearing baggy pants, a wool shirt that had been white once, and a gray wool scarf around his neck. He had red hair and amber eyes. He was reading a book while puffing on a pipe. He looked up as the two of them came up the stairs. His brow furrowed in concentration as he lowered his book to his lap. He took out his pipe and said in a wheezing voice, "Pariah, right?"
"Yes," she smiled at him. "And this is Dejen. I don't think you two met last time."
The man nodded greeting. "Welcome to the Easthaven library. I'm Raum Haugen, the town librarian. You are welcome to read any of the books here but, because you are not town residents, you can't take them out of this room."
"I understand," Dejen said. He looked over the disorganized stacks of books on the shelves and said, "Um, maybe you could help us find something."
Raum picked up a thin leather bookmark from the stool next to his chair and placed it in the book before closing it. "Certainly. What are you interested in?"
"Netheril," Dejen replied.
The librarian looked up at the ceiling as he thought about it. "Hmm, I'm afraid we don't have anything like that."
"What about histories or even legends?" Dejen asked.
While they talked, Pariah looked at the titles of the books on the shelves. She'd scanned through them last time and didn't remember anything that would help them, but she hadn't been looking for anything specific. She'd been more interested in passing the time so had focused on entertaining books rather than educational ones. She pored over the titles looking for books about history or magical theories.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much like that here. The books were mostly novels, plays, biographies, and religious texts. There were surprisingly few books on things as practical as hunting or farming, but she imagined those kinds of things were more likely passed on orally in families.
The librarian was able to point them towards a few books, but he admitted they gave a fairly superficial description of Netheril. Since they had other business, Pariah had planned to come back later to read through them, but Dejen settled into one of the chairs and started to go through one of the books.
She asked uncertainly, "Are you going to stay here?"
He gave her a distracted nod. "I'll see what I can find out."
She hesitated, unsure whether he'd be safe by himself. Then again, this was the town hall and there were several guards in the place so it was unlikely any of their enemies would attack them here. Easthaven seemed safer than Bryn Shander, with less of an obvious Aurilite presence, but that didn't mean it was safe for them to walk the streets. She said, "All right, but stay here. We'll come get you later."
"Uh-huh," he replied, focused on the book and making notes in the air with his quill. She wasn't sure he'd even heard her. She shrugged mentally and then headed downstairs.
That evening, the group gathered in the Wet Trout for dinner. The tavern had a better menu than the White Lady, and the boisterous atmosphere made it easier to have a conversation without anyone eavesdropping. Pariah had just finished a plate of pickled herring, onion, potatoes, beets and cheese. She'd also tried a bite of Bjarnson's interesting choice: raw seal meat with the skin and fat still attached. She'd eaten raw meat in her poorer days, but she'd never liked the texture and this was no different. He said that the practice was common among the Reghedmen and goliaths, though less so in the towns.
Dejen had reported that his studies had yielded no useful information. He'd found plenty of interesting facts about the area, but nothing relevant to the Netherese, the Everlasting Rime, the duergar or any of their other current challenges. From his cheerful demeanor, he'd clearly enjoyed spending the afternoon in the library despite his lack of results.
Pariah was wearing a new set of armor made from reindeer and seal hide. She had been surprised to find the inside was lined with fur; Thunum the leatherworker had told her that was the local custom. It would keep her warm and eliminate the need for wearing wool underneath. She'd still need her outer cloak and other cold weather gear, but the fur felt better against her skin than the woolen clothing had.
Thunum had thrown in a thin cord so she could wear the last of the ice beads she'd gotten from Avarice around her neck. She'd been carrying it in a pouch since the Black Cabin, afraid it would get crushed accidentally and release its icy energy.
They'd checked with the carpenter; the fittings for the former House of the Morninglord were done and would be shipped to Bryn Shander in the next couple of days. Bjarnson and Eberic had inspected the items and declared that the workmanship was excellent.
"So what's the plan for the next leg of our journey?" Pariah asked, shouting to be heard over the din of the residents singing about how alcohol kept you warm in the coldest winter. She took a drink of hot mead.
Bjarnson put down the bite he was about to take and said, "I'd say push through to Caer-Konig and spend tomorrow night there before heading out into the wilderness. Honestly, I'd rather just go past Caer-Dineval without stopping, but I guess you want to talk to Culver." The latter was directed at Dejen.
"Oh, yes," the man agreed enthusiastically. "He seems to know a lot about the history of the area, and I think he might have some insight on Netheril or the surroundings."
Zariel said, "I agree with Bjarnson; I'd rather go past the town to avoid the residents of the castle and their nefarious schemes."
Pariah replied, "I'd kind of like to check in on the town itself. Make sure the Black Sword is behaving themselves."
"That's...true," Zariel admitted reluctantly. "But we should be on our guard. I suspect Avarice is always watching through the eyes of her many servants."
"Yeah," Pariah sighed. "She'll know we're there." She pursed her lips. "I wish we could trust her, because I'd love to know her opinion on what the Summer Star is and what it actually did." The Luskan mages might be arrogant and power hungry, but they also had some of the best understanding of magic of anyone along the Sword Coast. She realized that Dejen might have been offended by her comment but he nodded agreement with her.
Zariel's face grew sour. "Do you plan to show her the device?"
"Oh, gods no," Pariah said emphatically. "That's why I said I wish we could trust her. We should absolutely not tell her about the device, the tower, the city or any of that."
"Good," Zariel said in relief. "I grudgingly admit the value of this unholy alliance, but we should still keep our distance. Bjarnson, do you know anything about where we are headed to find the tower? Any stories or strange occurrences?"
He shook his head. "Nothing special. I've probably been in or at least near that area, but no hauntings or dark magic or bizarre animals -- well no more than in any other part of Icewind Dale. Eberic?"
The dwarf also shook his head. "I haven't heard anything either, though we mostly scouted towards the orc settlements in the Spine of the World, which is south. We never had trouble come from the direction of the glacier to the east, so didn't pay that much attention."
"That's something else to ask Culver about," Dejen pointed out. "I think a quick run through town to talk with him won't attract Avarice's notice."
"Very well," Zariel said with reluctance. "Maybe we could split up: one group goes to see Culver to see if he knows anything about Netheril, and the other goes to talk with Speaker Siever to ask how the residents are faring. We should not dawdle in town though. Bjarnson, will the dogs need to rest?"
He shook his shaggy head of red hair. "No. They can make the run all the way to Caer-Konig without a break."
Eberic asked, "And if the Black Sword aren't behaving themselves?"
Zariel pursed her lips. "We will have to cross that bridge when we reach it. I would gladly free Caer-Dineval from their influence, but as long as they honor the agreement, I suppose that will have to wait. While I might be willing to risk an attack on the soldiers in the castle, the wizard would make such an assault impossible."
Pariah leaned forward. "I wish we knew what you-know-who was up to and why he's building a cult in Icewind Dale."
Zariel nodded gloomily "As do I. I have received no guidance about his schemes, which concerns me. I'm sure the Heavens know of his presence, but they don't appear to want to intervene."
Pariah grunted and grimaced, but said nothing.
Dejen said hesitantly, "I just assumed he wanted to find the mythallar that is the heart of Ythryn. Avarice seems intent on finding that city. Although she may have been sent here by the Hosttower, I assumed her master wanted the same thing. They are items of legendary power. I'd think even an archdevil could benefit from something like that."
Pariah was surprised she hadn't thought of that. It seemed obvious in hindsight. Even the duergar might be here looking for the city as well. She said, "Would it free him from his prison? He's locked in some tower in Stygia, right?" She directed that last question to Zariel, and then realized she shouldn't have singled the woman out like that. Directing her next question to the group in general, she said, "Would a mythallar be able to break him out?"
Dejen screwed his face up in thought. "I don't know. I'm not familiar with his circumstances. However, transporting it to the Nine Hells would be difficult."
Zariel hesitated but then said, "I suspect such a device would not free him. He is imprisoned under the direct orders and power of Asmodeus. I don't think any mortal creation could break such a prison."
"Oh?" Dejen said with interest. "And why did Asmodeus do that?"
Zariel stammered, clearly unsure of how much information to volunteer. Trying to rescue her, Pariah interjected, "I've read a bit about him, due to our past association, and he apparently tried to overthrow Asmodeus. He's hardly the first of the devils to try that, and scholars are unsure why Asmodeus punished him so harshly."
Zariel was lost in thought. She said distantly, "Actually he was the first. The first to attempt to overthrow the fallen angel, Ashmedai, who so arrogantly conquered the Eight Hells from his base in the separate plane of Avernus. Asmodeus united the Nine Hells under his rule. Levistus pretended to be his loyal lieutenant but led a coup against him. It failed, and Levistus was condemned to eternity in his frozen tomb on the plains of Stygia. From there he schemes, still trying to usurp Asmodeus and install himself as ruler."
Dejen listened carefully. "You are a student of infernal politics?" he asked.
Zariel was jolted out of her reverie. "Me?" she said nervously. "No, not really, I just know a few things here and there."
Dejen studied her with a furrowed brow, and Pariah could sense the questions forming in his mind. Looking to change the subject, she said, "Oh, speaking of Hell, I guess I never finished my story about the soul coins." She launched into a tale of the trapped souls she had encountered, distracting Dejen from pursuing Zariel's story.
Notes:
The story of Ashmedai is from the Avernian Remix rather than Forgotten Realms history. However, Levistus being the first devil who tried to usurp him is from canon.
Chapter 83: Hidden Agendas
Summary:
The expedition returns to Caer-Dineval for a brief visit on the way to Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 18, 1496 (2 days after the New Moon)
"Talona's tits," Pariah growled as they neared Caer-Dineval.
It had still been dark when they left Easthaven, and now the eastern sky was starting to lighten as they saw the castle in the distance. They could see that the residents had started to build a stone wall around the back sides of the town's outermost buildings. A wooden palisade blocked the road and soldiers stood on either side. One was a dwarven man with a long, black beard spilling out from his hood. The other was the one who elicited the curse from Pariah: a tiefling woman with pale skin, honey brown hair, and a cheek tattoo of a snake eating its tail. In case the latter's allegiance wasn't clear from her lack of cold weather clothing, the black crystal sword pendant dangling from her neck removed all doubt.
"Good morning," the dwarf called out cheerfully as the first sled, the one being driven by Pariah and carrying Bjarnson and Dejen, stopped in front of the palisade. "What brings you to Caer-Dineval?"
Before Pariah could answer, the tiefling guard said to her, "Good morning, sister." To her fellow guard, she said, "Krum, I don't think that will be necessary. These are friends of the Black Sword."
"Oh," said the dwarven guard, his smile fading.
Pariah couldn't help herself. "Not friends," she clarified. "Just not enemies." To the dwarf, who didn't seem to be one of the cultists, she said, "We are friends of the town and the speaker, not the castle." Maybe she shouldn't be antagonizing the Black Sword, but she knew the townspeople were suspicious of their loyalties so wanted to be clear.
He gave her a grunt and an appraising look and then the two guards stepped to each side of the palisade to move it aside. The tiefling guard, apparently not offended by her comment, said, "Kadroth will be happy to receive you and you are welcome to stay at the caer."
"We are just passing through," Pariah insisted. "We're going to talk to the speaker and ensure the transition is going smoothly. We aren't staying."
And I don't want Avarice to know I'm here, she added silently to herself.
"As you wish," the woman said. "I'm Grief, by the way. You're Pariah, right?"
Pariah nodded silently. She recognized the woman from the caer, but hadn't known her name or spoken to her before.
"Well, it's good to meet you, sister," Grief said earnestly. With a twinkle in her eye she added, "May Helm watch over you," as she touched her black sword pendant.
Pariah knew she wouldn't be able to say "Fuck Levistus" in front of the dwarf due to the geas, so she settled for just scowling at the woman.
She said, "Hike!" and the dog team started moving again, the other sled close behind. As they turned left to head down the main road of the town, Pariah sighed over her shoulder, "Well, so much for our secret visit."
The two sleds stopped in front of the speaker's house. All of them dismounted to stretch and walk around a bit. Zariel said, "In light of that," she nodded back towards the corner that led to the town entrance, "do we want to stay together?"
The tiefling guard had walked to the corner and was looking down the road at them. "No," Pariah replied. "The faster we get this done, the faster we get out of here. Dejen, I'll go with you to meet with Culver. Who else is going where?"
Eberic grumbled, "I don't want to listen to that windbag so I'll stay with Zariel."
Bjarnson, who was kneeling by one of the dog teams, said, "Since Culver's house is close, you won't need the sled. I'll stay out here with the dogs, check their harnesses, give 'em a little snack, and so on."
"You don't want to get out of the cold?" Pariah asked. She felt fine, but she knew the others were more sensitive to the weather.
"I'll be fine," he chuckled.
"I'll go with Pariah," Lulu said, "so we can stay in touch."
"Good plan," the tiefling agreed. "We'll meet back here."
Culver's house was five doors down from where the speaker was staying. That wasn't much of a coincidence; the town had only about a hundred residents so there weren't that many buildings along the town's only road. It was possible, of course, that he'd gone to the Uphill Climb since he often spent time there. She was hoping that wasn't the case, since the tavern was at the far end of town and right next to the castle.
Dejen knocked at the door, and Pariah was relieved when a voice from inside called out, "Come in!"
She followed Dejen inside and then hesitated at the chaos she was faced with. The main room they was so tightly packed with shelves and tables that there was barely room to move around. Every surface was covered in curios like the things she'd seen on his table in the Uphill Climb: jewelry ranging from cut glass to a ring that looked like platinum, several pairs of footwear including a pair of red boots with a hole in the right toe, a tiny copper tea set that look about Lulu's size, an iron chain only five links long, a bone collar with a hinge and latch made of brass, a lone jingle bell attached to a fragment of cloth, a straw doll that had been dyed black, and so much more. There were also a host of books and scrolls shoved in with the other items.
Through a doorway she saw another room with a tile floor, unlike the wooden floor in this room. She could see a table stacked high with paintings, more books, and more curios. Shelves on the wall held trinkets alongside plates, pots and utensils; she wasn't sure if those were more treasures or his actual cookware.
The house was quite warm, which was a relief after the bitter cold of the outside. The smell of whale oil almost covered a musty odor.
"Dejen!" Culver exclaimed in a wheeze. "It's so good to see you again. And you are...um...Pariah and Lulu, right?"
"Hello," Pariah nodded to him.
"Hi," said Lulu.
"Come in, come in," he insisted, waving them into his maze of shelves. Pariah moved further into the room to see three wooden chairs and a stuffed sofa, worn enough that the straw stuffing stuck out through holes in the fabric. Every seating surface had stacks of papers on them. "Oh, just throw that stuff on the floor. Please, take a seat. Can I get you some...hmm, no, I'm out of tea. And cheese. And jerky. And...hmm, what time is it?" He looked towards one of the windows that faced north, though the curtain was closed.
Dejen said, "It's just after ten in the morning."
"I see, well maybe we should go to the Uphill Climb for an early lunch. We could talk about-"
"We aren't going to stay long," Pariah interjected gently.
Dejen, disappointed, said, "That's true. We are headed to Caer-Konig after this and then out into the tundra tomorrow. And that's why we are here. We wanted to pick your brain about local history."
Pariah had moved a stack of papers from one of the chairs onto another stack on the floor and was sitting uncomfortably. She'd never been bothered by small spaces, but she was concerned by how much the shelves of knick-knacks next to her were leaning and sagging. The whole thing looked ready to topple.
Culver said, "I'd be happy to answer any questions about the history of the area. There are so many fascinating stories. Did you know that the Tribe of the Bear insist that you must wear a cloak made from your last kill of the previous season to ensure good luck on your hunt? Or that when Clan Battlehammer first came to-"
"Actually," Pariah interrupted, "we are wondering how much you know about Netheril."
"Oh, well, not much I'm afraid," he said apologetically. "My studies cover the history of Ten-Towns, and they were established in the 11th Century when the Dinev family settled on the shores of Lac Dinneshire."
"There must have been attempts to find Netherese artifacts," Dejen suggested. "Would you have records of any of those? Or the writings of Ten-Towns scholars who studied the Netherese period?"
Culver made a thoughtful noise as he wrung his withered hands. "Maybe," he said. "There might be something in..." He trailed off as he stood and headed off into the maze of shelves, mumbling to himself. Dejen got up and hurried after him.
Pariah stood as well, but didn't bother going into the stacks.
"You don't want to hear what he has to say?" Lulu asked her quietly.
Pariah shook her head. "It doesn't sound like he knows anything important, though we'll probably have to go drag Dejen away when we are ready to leave. How's it going with the speaker?"
Lulu looked up thoughtfully for a moment and then said, "He's still greeting Zariel and Eberic. They are just getting settled in."
Pariah wandered the stacks looking at Culver's collection of esoteric items. She spotted a few items of value but most of it seemed like junk to her. Much of it was tagged with information like when and where it was found, when it was manufactured, and a few words about its purpose. She couldn't see the value of a broken harlequin mask from 1387 DR, a necklace of sandstone beads owned by a merchant from Targos, or the femur of someone named Alegon Heeg. The books weren't much more interesting. They ranged from almanacs to children's stories to accounting ledgers from businesses that had disappeared before Pariah had been born.
Her exploration was interrupted by a tapping at the door. It wasn't a knock. It was a quiet sound, like someone striking their fingernail against the wooden surface. She could hear Culver talking and he didn't seem to have heard it, so she headed to the entry herself.
She opened the door and a black bird flew into the room. It alit on the top of one of the bookcases and held out a claw towards her; it was gripping a tiny roll of parchment.
"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed as she recognized Avarice's familiar. Clearly the guard had sent a message to the castle, or possibly Avarice had spied them herself. Pariah took the offered paper and unrolled it. It said "Come see me" with no signature.
Lulu had landed on her shoulder so she could read the message as well. "Are you going to go?" she asked.
Pariah glared up at the raven. She gestured towards the open door and said, "Fine, you delivered your message. Now get out."
The bird cocked its head at her, squawked, and gestured with a talon towards the message.
Pariah replied more firmly, "I said get out. Shoo!" She waved both hands at the bird and it flew out the door, which she closed after it.
Dejen and Culver had made their way through the clutter into the room. "Was someone here?" Culver said, looking around for a guest.
"It was a message for me," Pariah said. To Dejen she added, "Avarice wants to see me."
"Who's that?" Culver asked.
"She's someone in the castle," Dejen explained. He asked Pariah, "Are you going to go?"
"I don't know," she said. "It's possible she has found out something about the duergar or Auril." She made her decision and said, "You stay here. Keep talking to Culver. I'll go to the castle with Lulu. We'll all meet at the Uphill Climb when we're done."
"Are you sure?" he said in concern. "I think I should go with you."
"I'll be fine," she assured him. She started another sentence but stopped, unable to say Levistus's name. She grimaced and then reworded her comment. "Her master wants me alive, I'm pretty sure. If not, then that's why I want to take Lulu; she can call Zariel for help if anything goes wrong."
"I suppose," Dejen said reluctantly.
"I'll be fine," she said again, having opened the door. "I'll just pop in quickly and see what she has to say." A thought occurred to her and she said to Culver, "Don't tell people we were asking about Netheril, especially the people in the castle. Say we were asking about past duergar incursions."
"All right," he said in confusion.
She exited the building and closed the door tightly behind her. She hurried down the road as it curved around and sloped upwards towards the tavern and the castle. Lulu said, "I agree with Dejen. I think we should all go."
"No," Pariah said, looking around to see if any ravens were listening. She couldn't see any but decided to be safe anyhow. She looked at Lulu, flying along beside her, and tapped her head before thinking at her, "It's easier for me to lie to her if there's nobody around to react to what I say."
"Are you going to tell her what we found?" Lulu asked.
"Hells no," she thought emphatically. "That's what I mean. I don't want to tell her about the device or the possibility of a Netherese city."
"Then what are you going to say?"
"I don't know. I guess I have until I get to the castle to figure out what my lie is going to be."
The guards didn't hesitate to open the gate for her. They all smiled and called her "sister" and she gave them empty smiles in return. She decided to behave herself a little bit on this visit, since she'd already pushed the cult pretty far.
She made a beeline for the northwest tower where the trapdoor to the lower level was. By the time she reached the shrine to Levistus and the door to Avarice's room, she had a good idea of what she was going to say. She blew out a breath and knocked.
"Come!" called out a voice.
Pariah entered the room. Avarice was sitting at her desk, her back to the door, a book open before her to a blank page. She held a quill in her hand. "Report," she barked.
Pariah was taken aback by her directness. "Excuse me?"
Avarice turned to her with a frown of annoyance. "Report," she repeated. "What have you been up to since you were last here?"
Pariah was trying to stay calm but she blurted out, "You seem to have mistaken me for some kind of servant. I don't work for you or for Levistus, as I've said many times before." As Avarice opened her mouth, Pariah said quickly, "However, if you're asking about the duergar, we haven't discovered anything. We were focused on the rumors of a possible fix for the Everlasting Rime."
Avarice raise her head to look down her nose at Pariah, even though the latter was standing and the former was sitting. "Really?" she said archly. "Rumors from whom?"
Pariah shrugged. "Tavern rumors in Bryn Shander. I don't know the name of the guy who told me." She didn't want to mention Copper's involvement; Avarice seemed like the type to capture and torture him for information.
Pariah launched into a superficial description of their adventures over the last few days: their return to Bryn Shander to find the town paralyzed by localized storms, the frost druid attack after they left the town, and their trip to the Black Cabin. Everything she said was mostly true, at least until she got to the story of the Summer Star.
"Apparently this man had created some kind of device he thought would end the Rime, but when we got there the cabin was half burned and so was his body. We found his journal in a bedroom where it hadn't been damaged, and there were some ideas in there about how to modify it. We tried that and it worked, though it exploded again and this time the explosion melted the device into slag."
Avarice had been making notes as she talked. At this point she stopped to glare at Pariah. "And what was this device? How did it work? What did it look like?"
"I don't know," Pariah said, putting her hands up to stem the barrage of questions. "None of us understood it. It was rings of silver mounted around a hunk of clear chardalyn. There were symbols on the rings, probably arcane, but nothing I recognized. His notes suggested a third ring and we forged one and it worked. Well, sort of. For a day anyhow."
Avarice's frown deepened. "Was this five days ago?"
"Um, yeah, I guess that sounds about right." She cocked her head to study the other tiefling. "I gather that means you felt the effects here?"
Avarice tapped her fingernails on the surface of the desk while she contemplated. "Tell me again what the device looked like and what the symbols were."
Pariah described it again and Avarice sketched it in her notebook. As for the inscriptions, Pariah claimed she couldn't remember them well, and then described completely random symbols that bore no relation to what she had seen. Avarice mumbled under her breath as she drew them, but said nothing directly to her.
"And you say it exploded again? So one of you was killed?"
"Sort of, but not exactly," Pariah said. She pointed to Lulu. "She activated it and, though her form on this plane was destroyed, our companion was able to resummon her from Mount Celestia. Well, once the magic came back of course."
"And where is this device now?" Avarice demanded.
"It was destroyed, like I said."
"But where is it?" she asked impatiently.
"Well, the lump of molten metal is back in the Black Cabin," Pariah lied. "We didn't see that it was useful so we left it."
"Agauksh," Avarice growled, a word in the speech of devils that was an unflattering description of a person's intelligence. "And his journal?"
"It was destroyed in the explosion."
The other tiefling again growled her insult. "Was there anything else? Blueprints or a second journal or reference books? Anything?"
"Well, there were blueprints in another room. We didn't think to take them." Before Avarice could speak, she said, "Yeah, I know: agauksh." Of course they had taken the drawings, but if Avarice went out to the Black Cabin, she was likely to assume one of the other wizards had found them.
"What did you do then?" the albino tiefling asked in an irritated voice.
"We assumed the Rime was over at first, since the sun came up. We were a little worried about the break in magic, but what was done was done. We headed back to Termalaine, and then the sun went down and never came back up. Since then we've been resting up from the couple of fights we've had, and now we are here."
Avarice made more notes in her book and then drummed her fingers on the desk. "And what are you doing now?"
"Since that was a dead end, I guess we'll head out and search for the duergar. We're going to go back to the little outpost we found at Kelvin's Cairn and see if we can find any more clues. If not," she shrugged, "we'll maybe head towards the mountains and see if we can pick up tracks or something. Have your gargoyles been looking? Have they found anything?"
Avarice was staring thoughtfully at the map drawn in chalk of the wall of her chamber. After a while, as though suddenly remembering Pariah was there, she said, "That's all." She made a brushing motion with her hand. "You can go."
The wizard turned back to her journal, but Pariah asked, "So what did happen here when the magic stopped?"
"I said you can go," Avarice said sharply.
Pariah was frustrated she hadn't gotten any information out of the woman, but she also knew when a conversation was over. She exited back into the shrine, into the basement, and then up the ladder to the guard tower. She still had questions, though she didn't want to dawdle.
She climbed the stairs to the second level of the tower hoping there would be a sentry on duty. There was: a half-elven woman with thin, blonde hair tied in a narrow braid. She wore baggy black pants, a gray doublet, and a blue scarf, though the latter was designed for fashion rather than to keep out the cold. She turned when she heard footsteps, scowling at Pariah. "Yeah?" she demanded.
"Hello," Pariah said with a fake smile. "I wanted to ask you what happened here a few days ago when the sun came up. It did come up here, right?"
The woman reached up to grasp her black crystal sword pendant. "Yeah," she said with a worried frown.
"And? What else happened on that day."
The sentry studied her suspiciously. "You don't know?"
"I know what happened in other towns," Pariah shrugged. "I just wanted to know what happened here. I tried asking Avarice but, well, you know what she's like."
The guard snorted in acknowledgement. "Yeah. Well, you know, magic seemed to stop. We didn't know why. And..." Her grip on her pendant tightened as she turned to look out over the wilderness. With difficulty she said, "And it got cold."
"Cold?" Pariah echoed. She was momentarily confused; it was always cold. But then she remembered that the Black Sword didn't feel the cold, one of Levistus's gifts to them. "Interesting. Did you think Levistus abandoned you?"
"No!" the woman said sharply. "Of course not. We'd never doubt his commitment to us." Her tone was a little too emphatic, as though she was trying to convince herself more than Pariah.
"Ah, yes, who could possibly doubt the loyalty of the Prince of Betrayal," the tiefling said dryly. "So what happened next?"
The guard scowled at her. "After a few hours, the cold went away again as his blessing returned. Maybe, maybe Auril won some small battle against him, but the Lord of Stygia prevailed and his blessing was restored. Hail the Lord of the Fifth, whose glory benefits us all!"
"Whatever," Pariah sighed. "All right, thank you."
She headed back down the stairs and said to Lulu, "Tell Zariel I'm coming back."
Notes:
I have no notes for this chapter so I might as well muse about something else that's come up over the course of the story.
I'm mostly a genfic writer. I don't really care about romance, and have seen too many stories (meaning movies and TV rather than fanfic) ruined by a forced romance between characters who have no chemistry just to tick a box on the studio's production checklist.
However, I kicked around the idea of having a romance in this one to explore some of Pariah's feelings both about her scars and about the assault that kicked off this whole series. But with who? Eberic is married. Dejen doesn't really fit, plus I'm pretty sure he's gay. I figured Bjarnson would be perfect. They could bond over her growing love of nature and stuff like that.
I keep shoving them into situations together and...nothing happens. There's just nothing there. I don't want to force it, but it's not coming out naturally. To be fair, the group as a whole doesn't seem to have quite the same level of camaraderie that the Avernus group did, and I'm not sure why.
So I'm going to stop trying. It could have been an interesting subplot, but sometimes things just don't fit into the story that's being told.
Chapter 84: Tales of Adventure and Tragedy
Summary:
The party travels to Caer-Konig to spend the night before heading out into the wilderness to look for the Netherese tower.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 18, 1496 (2 days after the New Moon)
The group left Caer-Dineval as quickly as they could, not even stopping for lunch. Culver hadn't known anything helpful about Netheril. The speaker told Zariel that the Black Sword were setting up defenses and patrols around the town but had otherwise kept to themselves. He had given up trying to tell the townspeople what was really going on in the castle. He was frustrated that the cult was digging themselves in more deeply, and that more of them seemed to be arriving in town, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.
The wind stayed relatively mild and they arrived in Caer-Konig after an hour of travel. Pariah was happier to see this town than she had been to see Caer-Dineval. They hadn't managed to make any enemies here. Torg's should be in Targos on the other side of the region. She was hopeful that they could get a good night's rest before they headed out into the wilderness in the morning.
The light was fading in the west as they drove into town past the ruined caer where they had faced and defeated Sephek Kaltro, the Coldheart Killer. The nightly spectral reenactment of the siege wouldn't start for a few hours yet; Pariah thought she might just go watch it again depending on how the rest of the day went.
She examined Speaker Trovus's house as they passed it but couldn't tell if anyone was home at the moment. They planned to ask him about the area to the east to see if he knew any rumors, though they weren't going to tell him about the tower. She guessed he'd either be home or in the tavern. It was a little early to find him passed out in a snow bank like they had on their first visit; from what she'd heard, that wasn't an unusual occurrence on his nightly patrols.
They followed the curve around the top of the cliff that looked down on the rest of the town and the frozen harbor, until they reached the open area near the piers to see the color-shifting lantern hanging outside The Northern Light inn. Their magic items had resumed their function after the magic had returned, but Pariah had been afraid that some items would be permanently broken unless re-enchanted. The lantern was an important symbol to the town and she was glad to see it was still working.
The two sleds stopped in front of the inn. As they stepped off and started gathering their possessions, Bjarnson stood staring down at the dogs. "Do any of you remember kennel facilities here?"
Pariah couldn't recall anything like that. "No," she said, "but then I wasn't looking for any the last time we were here. I guess we hadn't gotten our dog teams yet."
He continued to study the dogs thoughtfully. "They could manage the cold if they needed to, but I'd rather they had some shelter." He looked up at the sky and sniffed the air. "Though the weather is pretty mild. I don't think we'll have any bad storms tonight."
"We'll ask about where to put them up," Pariah said, nodding towards the door to the inn.
They headed into the warm reception area, which had a floor of worn blue-gray tiles and walls decorated with small oil paintings of people Pariah didn't recognize. None of them had nameplates. As they gathered in the area and closed the door, a sour-faced, stout woman with blonde hair came out of the office in the back. Pariah was disappointed that it was the cranky sister, Cori, rather than the nice one, Allie.
"Yes?" the woman asked.
"Five for one night," Pariah said.
"Five dragons," she said as she reached under the desk to retrieve three keys.
Pariah glanced into the dining room but there was nobody there. Allie was probably cleaning or cooking. That reminded her that she was starving. They hadn't stopped for a meal in Caer-Dineval since they hadn't wanted to linger.
Bjarnson asked, "Is there a kennel here? We have two dozen dogs."
Cori scooped up the coins they had put on the counter and said, "No. Frozenfar sometimes puts dogs up, but probably not that many. You'll have to just leave them outside."
Dejen suggested to Bjarnson, "Maybe we could find one of the empty warehouses-"
"Breaking into private property is hardly the best solution," Cori snapped at him.
Dejen broke off, taken aback by her vitriol.
Pariah said to him, "We can ask Speaker Trovus when we talk to him. I'm sure he'll find some kind of accommodations for us after we helped him recover those things stolen from the town." That last bit was directed at Cori, who sniffed in annoyance and then headed back into the office.
The group headed to their rooms to drop off their possessions and then gathered again in the reception area. Pariah eyed the dining room longingly as she said, "Do we need to take care of the dogs first? Because I'd like to get some lunch."
Bjarnson chided her gently, "You need to eat more often through the day."
"Yeah, I know," she said. He'd said before that eating often was an important strategy for dealing with the cold, but she'd gotten used to a typical three-meals-a-day schedule.
He continued, "You go ahead and eat. I'll take a run up to Frozenfar. Even if they can't put the dogs up, they should have an idea of what we can do with them."
"I'll go with you," Eberic said.
Dejen and Zariel decided to stay and eat, so Lulu went with the other group so they could stay in contact.
The dining room had the typical perpetual stew simmering on a fire next to a barrel of water. As the three of them served themselves, Allie came out of the kitchen. "Oh, hello," she said brightly. "I'm so glad to see you all again. Can I get you anything else? We have some reindeer sausage or Cori could fry up some knucklehead."
Zariel ordered hot mead, Dejen ordered tea, and Pariah was satisfied with water. They were all content with the stew, which was made of clams, some leafy plant she couldn't identify, and mushrooms all in a thick, fatty broth.
As Allie brought out their drinks she glanced towards the reception area and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "Cori didn't charge you for the rooms, did she?"
Pariah remembered that Allie had offered them free rooms as payment for getting the inn's magic lantern back. "It's fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "We're pretty flush with coin right now."
Allie again looked towards the reception area with a frown of annoyance. "No, it's not right. I said we'd give you free rooms."
Pariah put a hand on her arm and said, "No, really. Don't worry about it. We don't want to make trouble."
The blonde woman hesitated indecisively but then said, "Well, all right. But Cori has been experimenting with making ice cream. I'll sneak you each a free bowl with supper tonight."
"That sounds like a deal," Pariah laughed.
"Are you going to be staying long?"
"Just tonight," the tiefling responded. "Actually, we were going to ask Trovus, but you're a local so maybe you know something. We're on kind of a treasure hunt about ten miles east of here. Have you heard any stories about the area? You know, ghosts, monsters, lights in the sky, anything like that?"
Allie looked thoughtful and said, "No, nothing like that. Just the White Lady in Easthaven. Why are you...oh, never mind, none of my business."
Pariah shrugged. "Just a tavern story about lost treasure. Probably a wild goose chase, but maybe we'll get some good hunting in on our trip." She wasn't about to spread stories of buried Netherese cities. That in turn reminded her of something else she wanted to ask about. "So did this town get that same weird magic disruption a few days ago?"
Allie's eyes widened. "We did," she breathed. "It was so exciting to see the sun again, but then I realized our lantern wasn't working anymore and that made me so sad. It's been a town landmark forever, since before I was born. And then I was so happy when it started working hours later." She sighed. "And then I was sad because the sun went away again. I wonder what happened."
Pariah just shrugged. "It was pretty crazy, all right. But maybe it's a sign that the Everlasting Rime is weakening. Maybe things will be back to normal soon."
"I hope so," Allie said wistfully. "Well, I have to get back to the dishes. Yell if you need anything."
As she walked away, Pariah asked, "Hey, do you know where we'd find Trovus?"
The woman said, "Probably the tavern," with a little sadness in her voice.
That had been the answer Pariah had expected. "Thanks," she said. To Zariel she suggested, "I suppose we should go talk to him when we finish lunch. See if he knows anything about where we are going."
"Should we wait for the others?"
"No reason," Pariah replied. "We don't want to gang up on him. I'd like to go because I actually like his stories."
Dejen piped up, "I'd like to go for the same reason."
"All right," Zariel said. "We will head over when we finish here."
Her tone seemed disapproving and unenthusiastic. Pariah said, "You don't have to go if you don't want to. Dejen and I can talk to him."
The other woman seemed surprised by the comment. "I never said I didn't want to go," she said in confusion.
"Well, you just seem reluctant. I mean I get it. He's kind of loud and drunk and so on, and it's fine if you don't like being around him."
Zariel confusion deepened. "That's not my opinion at all. He just..." She struggled for words. "He's not the hero he used to be. I find it distressing. I have something of a...fascination with fallen warriors."
"Oh," Pariah said, embarrassed over having made the assumptions she did. She glanced over at Dejen, wondering if his natural curiosity would cause him to ask awkward questions, but he seemed intent on his meal.
Once they finished, they went to their rooms to get their furs. As they exited the inn, they saw Bjarnson, Eberic and Lulu coming down the road followed by their dogs, who were unharnessed.
As they got closer, Bjarnson told them, "The innkeeper was right; Frozenfar can't take on so many dogs. He suggested just letting them run free; that's what Torg's does when they are in town. There's an abandoned building next to him and he's going to make sure the door stays open so the dogs can find shelter if the wind kicks up. He's done it before and Trovus turns a blind eye." Bjarnson laughed, "Of course they just followed us after I let them loose, so I'm not sure where they'll end up tonight."
"And that's safe for them?" Pariah asked. "Letting them run around in the weather like this?"
"They'll be fine," he assured her. "They're built for this environment. And they aren't going to run off because they are smart enough to know that towns are safer than the wilderness." He looked off thoughtfully and added, "I might spend the night in that building though. I feel like they'd be more likely to settle down if there's a person there. Especially if I bring food."
Pariah considered the idea. She liked the dogs and, although a bed was more comfortable than a bedroll on frozen ground, she didn't feel the cold like the others. "Maybe you should sleep here. I'll stay with the dogs." He started to object and she added, "You're still not fully healed from that fight a few days ago. I’m fine, and I'm built to withstand this weather."
He pursed his lips. "I’m mostly back to normal. I've slept outside most of my life."
"And I've slept in filthy alleys most of my life; that doesn't mean I want to keep doing that," she teased him. "Look, you're the one who knows healing. If someone who had taken the kind of injury you did was asking you for advice, what would you say? Sleep outside or sleep indoors?"
Bjarnson's frown deepened, but then he laughed. "All right, fair point. And the dogs seem to like you and trust you, so that's good."
"Good, that's settled," she declared.
"Where are you all off to?"
"We're going to see Trovus," Pariah said, nodding towards the tavern. "I don't know if you want to come with us and get lunch there or eat here."
"We might as well come with you," Bjarnson said with a glance at Eberic. The dwarf grunted noncommittally. Lulu had nothing to add.
The group headed into the Hook, Line, and Sinker tavern. The bar had the same run down look as before: cracked and stained tile floor, battered shields on the walls, simple wooden furniture. However, the place seemed even shabbier, and that was probably because it didn't have the boisterous crowd that had been present during their previous visits. There were only two people present. One was the owner, Eglendar, a half-elf with a bushy mustache and scars on his face, who was washing mugs in a tub of water. The other was the silver dragonborn, Trovus, who was sitting at a table near the bartender saying to him, "...the tracks led into a grove where we found a man and a horse, both half-eaten and frozen. I thought it was gnolls but then we found wolf tracks so we..."
Both men looked up as the group entered the tavern. Eglendar beamed at them, "Good afternoon. Welcome back to the Hook, Line, and Sinker. Have a seat and I'll pour the first round, on the house of course."
The table near the entrance normally had half-sized mugs of ale that visitors could take for free, but the table was empty at the moment. The proprietor gathered up several of the mugs he'd been washing and started to fill them from one of the barrels at the back of the room.
Trovus was staring at the group glassy-eyed, but then his mouth split into a sharp-toothed grin. "My friends," he roared. "So glad to see you all again. You got that business with that murderer fellow taken care of?"
As they pushed two tables together and got settled, Pariah said, "Sort of. He came back as undead on our way back to Bryn Shander so we had to kill him again."
"No!" the dragonborn said in disbelief. "I should have stayed with you on the whole trip so I could protect you."
"We managed," Pariah assured him. "Sheriff Southwell burned the corpse so he shouldn't be troubling us again."
"Good to hear. Good to hear," he said.
She asked, "Any more trouble with duergar?"
"Nope, we sent them running for the hills," he crowed. "None of them have dared come back since. What about you?"
"We tangled with a group in Easthaven who were trying to steal some chardalyn but, as you put it, we sent them running for the hills."
Eglendar brought their drinks and said, "We have some suaasat in the pot. Anyone hungry?"
"Suaasat?" Pariah asked.
"Seal, onion and potato soup," he explained.
Bjarnson and Eberic put up their hands to indicate they wanted to eat. Pariah said, "The rest of us ate already, thanks."
As Eglendar went to ladle out their bowls, Trovus said he wanted to hear about their adventures and it made Pariah realize they had done a lot of fighting since last they saw him. In addition to the glowing undead Sephek Kaltro, she told him about how they had battled harpies, a giant skeleton, a hag, duergar, and frost giants. They left out their trip to Black Cabin, since they were trying to keep news of possible Netherese artifacts quiet.
Sticking to the lie she'd told Allie, Pariah said, "And now we are chasing a silly tavern rumor of buried treasure." She laughed. "Probably a waste of time, but you never know. It's supposed to be about ten miles from here, almost directly east. In your adventuring days did you come across anything out there, or any rumors?"
He furrowed his scaly brow. "East...east...I heard about some Reghedmen who'd split off from one of the tribes and set up in some cave sacred to Auril or something like that. They're supposed to be pretty crazy and violent. But you said directly east? Well, they're more to the southeast in the Spine of the World Mountains."
The group exchanged a silent glance, which Trovus noticed. "What?" he asked.
"We might have come across a couple of them," Bjarnson explained. "But that was northwest, near Termalaine."
Trovus growled, "I hope they aren't spreading. We have enough problems with the wildlife and the Rime and now a possible duergar incursion."
"We'll keep an eye out," Bjarnson said.
Trovus finished his drink and said, "Well, I think I'm going to take a patrol around town. Come with me and tell me more of your stories."
They had finished eating and a couple of rounds of drinks after, so they were all ready to go. They got up from the table and started putting on their furs. Eberic opened the door and they could see it was fully dark outside, though the wind was still fairly quiet.
As they headed outside, Zariel said, "You go ahead. I'll catch up."
"Oh?" Pariah said. "Why?"
Zariel shot her a look of annoyance. "I want to talk to Eglendar about his soup recipe," she said sternly.
Pariah hesitated. It was an obvious lie, but the message was really, "Mind your own business," and that was fair. "All right," she said, smiling to show she wasn't offended by Zariel's tone.
"Lulu, go with them," Zariel said. "I'll be along shortly."
Trovus led them along the road that followed the frozen shore of the lake. He asked them for more details of the frost giant attack on Caer-Dineval and they told him about how followers of "Helm" had taken over the castle and were helping to protect the town.
They turned the corner and headed up the hill to the other main road, the one that curved around higher on the slope. They passed the road they had come into town on, and saw the ruined caer further up slope. The nightly ghost show was still a couple of hours off. Trovus's house was next to the ruins and he invited them in, but they decided to keep walking and head back to the Northern Light.
Pariah asked Lulu what Zariel was talking to the tavernkeeper about, but she didn't know. However, Zariel was just crossing the plaza from the tavern to the inn as they arrived.
They went to their rooms to shed their furs. Pariah gave Zariel an inquisitive look. She wasn't going to press, but she was curious.
The other woman grimaced. "Sorry, I don't mean to seem secretive. I wasn't trying to hide anything, I was just trying to preserve Speaker Trovus's privacy."
That was not what Pariah had expected her to say, though she wasn't sure what she had expected. "How so?" she asked.
Zariel sat on the bed. "I wanted to know what happened to him, what changed him. Even if I didn't believe his stories, it's clear the townspeople have a great loyalty and affection for him. I wanted to know how he fell from grace. Eglendar got quite cold with me when I started asking, but I explained that I had been on my own personal journey and was trying to recover from some...bad choices. He softened a bit and told me what he knew."
Pariah sat down on her own bed, listening attentively. Lulu settled on the table, sitting by the basin.
Zariel began, "Trovus had been a sergeant in the Caer-Konig militia. He'd bravely defended the town many times. Eventually he retired and took up adventuring, though he stayed close to his home. He attracted others to his group. Some were new to the area, while others had grown up here.
"Then came the Sundering. It was a difficult time when the Ice Witch, Auril's Chosen, was leading attacks on the towns, the Dwarven Valley was being corrupted by black ice, and a group of pirates were terrorizing fishing fleets in Lac Dinneshere." She nodded vaguely in the direction of the lake that Caer-Konig looked down on.
"At the time, the speaker of Caer-Konig was a young man named Alden Lowell. He was apparently a weak leader, but Trovus had been a friend of his father's, and had looked after the young man after the elder Lowell died. He threw his support behind him and the town followed suit."
Zariel's brow furrowed. "There was something in the story about fishing rights that I didn't quite understand; apparently Caer-Konig, Caer-Dineval and Easthaven have been arguing over fishing rights since the towns were founded. Anyhow, during this chaotic time, a pirate ship called the Howling Fiend started to prey on the fishing fleets. Trovus and his companions set out to stop the pirates. They succeeded and the pirate ship was sunk, but Trovus's companions were killed.
"Eglendar said that, when Trovus came back, he was crazed and was wielding a battle axe with a head made of black chardalyn. He raged about Lowell, demanding to know where he was, but the boy had disappeared. Trovus claimed that Lowell was behind the pirates, the he had hired them to attack the other towns' fleets. He vowed vengeance for his friends and he charged off on a sled."
Zariel studied the floor for a time. "Trovus was gone for days. When he came back he was again changed, more like the man we've come to know. He was broken and miserable, and that's when he began to drink. He also didn't have his axe anymore. He never found Lowell, and nobody has seen the young man since. The town nominated Trovus as speaker and he reluctantly took the position."
Pariah digested the information. "So you think his pain comes from losing his friends? Or being betrayed by Lowell?"
"Both, perhaps," Zariel shrugged. "I suppose it helps me understand the town's loyalty to him, though. He was a brave sergeant, and has apparently been a good leader despite his frequent intoxication. I can't help but wonder why he hasn't been able to find his way back to the man he used to be after ten years." She sighed. "I wish I knew how to help him."
Pariah thought about the story some more. "Obviously the black chardalyn did something to him, and I wonder if it left some kind of permanent damage even if he got rid of the weapon."
"Possibly," Zariel said.
"It seems like he hit his rock bottom, whatever it was. Maybe we can find a way to help him start moving forward."
"I hope so," the other woman agreed.
Notes:
The story Trovus was telling in the tavern was from Trek to Ten-Towns, a chapter from "Icewind Mail: Special Delivery," a semi-official adventure that was part of the marketing campaign for Rise of the Frostmaiden.
I'm always unsure about using non-English words in stories like this. Suaasat is a Greenlandic soup. The word is presumably from their native language. It feels weird to use a "foreign" word in a fantasy story, but then again English is a foreign language too. I could just call it "seal soup" but that doesn't sound right either. So I guess there is some dialect in Faerûn that sounds like Greenlandic.
The story at the end is basically "Trovus and his party did the adventure Legacy of the Crystal Shard." The story about Alden Lowell is from that module but I've made some changes, not the least of which that Lowell was behind the pirates.
Chapter 85: The Lost Spire of Netheril
Summary:
Pariah and her companions leave Caer-Konig to search for the Netherese tower, hoping to find lost magic that will stop the Everlasting Rime.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
They decided to spend a second night in Caer-Konig. Both Bjarnson and Eberic were still recovering from their injuries. Eberic kept insisting he was fine between bouts of coughing. He got out of breath very easily. Bjarnson, on the other hand, agreed to the idea, and he pointed out this might be a long expedition. This wasn't like traveling from town to town. They had a vague description of a hill with a spur of rock on the top. Short of Lathander shining a beam of light on it like he had for Macreadus -- an outcome Zariel insisted was possible -- they were going to have to search a lot of wilderness. It was possible they wouldn't find it in one day. After all, nobody had noticed it for a couple of thousand years, and Macreadus had searched until he had been out of food.
Pariah had tried to sketch the outcropping when she had been able to talk to Macreadus, but between her mediocre drawing skills and the effort it took to move a quill as a ghost, the final image had been pretty crude. She wasn't sure how much help it would be.
She realized that it had been a month since she and Zariel had arrived outside of Bryn Shander without cold weather clothing. They had made progress of a sort in that time towards stopping the Everlasting Rime, though possibly progress down a dead end. She wasn't confident they were going to find anything useful in this tower, but she didn't have any alternate plans other than hunting for the duergar base in the mountains.
The decision to stay turned out to be a good one. A hail storm pounded the area for a couple of hours during the day, grape-sized hailstones smashing against the slate roofs. It would have been terrible to have been out in the tundra during that.
Pariah spent both nights with the dogs in a former storefront, long abandoned with no trace of what used to be sold here. The walls kept out the wind and the pile of dogs kept her warm. She still preferred a bed in a room, but this wasn't such a bad way to sleep.
They left early in the morning with the intent of reaching the area marked on the map around sunup. The sleds headed north from Caer-Konig where there was no road. The snow was blowing hard, hiding the bulk of Kelvin's Cairn that she knew was to the west. They followed the frozen shore of Lac Dinneshere for about an hour as it curved around to the east, finally reaching the frozen-over inlet river that came from the foot of the Reghed Glacier. They crossed the ice and continued east, or at least their best guess as to what was east. The lake shore curved back sharply to the south so they wouldn't be able to use it as a guide.
Bjarnson seemed confident as he drove the sled. He knew these lands. He knew that as long as they kept the wind at their backs, they were headed in the right direction. Pariah and Lulu watched behind them to catch occasional glimpses of Kelvin's Cairn. She'd point it out, he'd correct his course slightly, and they kept heading into the wilderness at a steady run. Eberic drove the other sled alongside and a little behind.
As the first glow appeared behind the Reghed Glacier, he signaled to Eberic and stopped his sled. The wind had died down somewhat, and visibility was better. Maybe Lathander was helping them; more likely it was just a pleasant coincidence. The land around them was rolling with hills; none had any distinctive outcroppings on top.
Bjarnson looked over the map that Dejen had unrolled. "We're in the right area but we don't know exactly where we are going. Zariel, any suggestions?"
Zariel had said she was going to spend the day praying to Lathander for guidance, hoping for some inspiration to lead them to their goal. "Not yet," she said. "I will continue to appeal to him."
Bjarnson nodded and said, "Well then we will just have to crisscross the area. We'll ride for about half an hour -- Dejen, you let us know -- and then turn around and come back a little bit to the side, and so on."
"We should separate," Eberic suggested. "Cover more ground."
Bjarnson looked at the sky. "Weather's good at the moment, but it feels like it's going to get nasty again. Let's stay in sight of each other, say about a hundred feet apart. Everyone keep their eyes sharp. If you see any strange rocks, report them. We'll have to check them all out."
They began their search. The wind had died down and Kelvin's Cairn was visible again, which made a good reference landmark. Bjarnson and Eberic were meticulous about sighting the peak as they passed back and forth over the area, stopping to check on every bare rock on top of a hill. Lulu occasionally flew up to get a wider view of the area, but couldn't see anything.
After about an hour, they found a small cave and stopped to build a fire, get warm, and eat some lunch before heading back out. Zariel prayed for guidance before they resumed their search, but no lights from the heavens guided their path. As the hunt continued, the glow behind the horizon moved from the east to the south and finally towards the west. Once that light faded, they'd either have to make camp or head back to Caer-Konig; searching in the dark would be a waste of time.
Pariah was frustrated, even though Bjarnson had warned them that finding the site would be difficult. She was used to navigating the maze of streets in Baldur's Gate. Finding a hidden destination took minutes, not hours, and certainly not days. It was also hard to keep alert, especially when the terrain was snow covered hills with few rocks or trees to break up the landscape.
"Zariel sees something," Lulu said.
"Tell them to check it out and let us know," Bjarnson replied in a bored tone. This was about the twentieth "something" they'd found. They'd stopped having both sleds check out each find after the fourth one.
"She says this one looks like Pariah's drawing," Lulu insisted, "and she had a good feeling about it."
Bjarnson looked over in the direction of the other sled, which was turning away from them. The wind had kicked up and visibility was starting to fade. Zariel was beckoning to them. "Fine," Bjarnson sighed. "We should talk about finding a place to camp anyhow."
He turned the dog team to follow the other sled. Before long, the hill that the others had spotted came into their view. A column of rock stuck straight up from the peak reaching about twenty feet high and the same in diameter. A narrower spur, maybe five feet across, protruded from one side of the top. The blue-gray rock surface was smooth and the shape seemed to be cylindrical. Pariah had seen natural rock formations that looked this regular and even, though not often. If nothing else, maybe it would serve as a wind break to build their camp against.
Eberic pulled his sled right up next to the column so he could examine it without having to dismount. Bjarnson pulled up nearby, also right next to the stone. Lulu took off and started flying around the area.
The dwarf was running his bare hand over the stone. "This isn't any kind of rock I've seen before. It might not be native to the area." His hand was pale and shaking slightly, though it wasn't clear if it was the cold or something else.
Dejen pointed to the top and said, "The curve on that spur looks manufactured to me." There was a definite shiver of cold in his voice.
He was talking about the narrow protrusion arcing up from the top of this column. Pariah was no expert, but she agreed the curve seemed too regular to be natural.
"Over here!" Lulu called out. "There's a hole."
The group dismounted. As was common to the hills in the area, most of the snow had been blown off by the constant wind so the footing was firm as they walked the twenty feet over to the spot Lulu was flying around. There was a knee-high ridge across the slope and, in the lee of it, a dark hole led down at a steep angle that led away from the rock tower. The few feet they could see was walled in ice.
Pariah said, "This sounds like where Macreadus went in. He said it's icy all the way down."
"We have climbing equipment," Eberic said.
Bjarnson had squatted next to the hole to look at it more closely. He pointed to one side of it. "We wouldn't be the first."
A piton was driven through the ice into the stone underneath. There was no rope tied to it, and it was hard to tell the age of the spike, but someone had been here. Pariah said, "I don't think Macreadus had climbing equipment. He said the ground collapsed and he fell in."
Bjarnson stood up. "So somebody else has been here."
"But they've gone," Eberic replied. "If they were still down there, there'd be a rope tied to this."
"True," Bjarnson said. "But it probably means the place has been looted already."
"We should still go," Zariel insisted. "I still believe Lathander wants us here, and there may be magical artifacts that will help us end the Everlasting Rime and restore his presence to Icewind Dale."
"And it's Netherese!" Dejen said with such excitement his voice was practically a squeal. "There could be untold knowledge down there. We have to go!"
"All right," Bjarnson said. "Let's break out the climbing equipment and head down."
"I'll go look around," Lulu said. She drew her little sword and touched the blade with her finger; it emitted a spark of light. Then she drew an imaginary cloak around her and disappeared from sight. The light was still visible, if not its source, and it moved into the dark tunnel.
"Be careful," Zariel called down after her.
While Eberic fetched the rope and climbing equipment from his sled, Bjarnson started to unharness the dogs. When Pariah asked him about it, he said, "We don't know how long we'll be down there. I'd rather they were able to run free. They know to stay nearby."
They had fed the dogs during their previous stop, so the pack would be fine for a while.
Lulu came back up. "The place seems empty," she reported. "I didn't go very far, though. There's a workshop and a library." To Pariah she said, "There's lots of books there."
"Ooh!" the tiefling said in excitement.
"I couldn't read the titles -- they were in some weird language -- but you should be able to. I found stairs but didn't go up. I mean down." She shook her head. "It's weird. Everything's upside down. The ceiling is the floor. Up is down. Oh and there are magical lights. It looks like the whole place is lit up."
"The tunnel down is clear?" Eberic asked as he tied a rope to a piton he had hammered in near the piton they had found.
"Yes. It slants down at an angle and the walls are covered in ice, but the angle isn't that steep. I'm kind of surprised Macreadus hurt himself. Honestly, you could probably just slide down."
"Better the use the rope," Eberic said.
Pariah agreed with him. She added, "Plus we'll need the rope to get back up." She teased, "We don't all have wings."
Dejen asked, "Did you see anything in the workshop?"
Lulu shrugged. "There's equipment but I don't know what it is, and a lot of it was wrecked, probably when it fell to the ceiling. Nothing that looked like the Summer Star. No rocks like the one that powered it, but there might be more in the junk."
Eberic stood up and said, "I'll go down first."
"I think I should go," Zariel said. "I know Lulu said it was empty, but creatures may lurk on lower levels. They may come up if they hear us."
Pariah said hesitantly to Eberic, "Maybe you should stay up here. I know you keep saying you're fine, but you're not. That climb back up is going to be hard on your injury." Eberic puffed up, but before he could speak, she said, "And if you get stuck down there because you can't climb back up, it's going to be hard on the rest of us."
He scowled but didn't respond.
Zariel said, "I'm reluctant to leave anyone alone up here. Lulu, is the corridor a straight ramp down?"
"Not quite. There's a sort of switchback at the end."
"But if someone could climb past that, we could haul him up by rope?"
"I think so."
Zariel said to Pariah, "I share your concern, but worst case we can still pull him out."
"All right," the tiefling agreed. "But I'll come down after you. Eberic, you come next, then Dejen and Bjarnson. All right?"
Bjarnson, still tending to the dogs, asked, "Lulu, you said there are lights down there. Is there heat?"
"No," she said. "Everything's covered in frost."
"But there's no wind, right?" he asked. The weather had been growing worse and the snow was starting to blow around them in thick flurries.
"No wind," she confirmed.
"We don't know how deep this tower goes. Let's set up a base camp in the first room before we head down. We'll send our packs down after you, Pariah. We can build a fire and use this tunnel as a chimney. Then we'll be ready to explore."
As Zariel prepared to descend into the tunnel, Lulu flew down ahead of her. Pariah watched Zariel climb down the rope into the darkness, her shoulder armor almost scraping against the icy walls. The tunnel went down about forty or fifty feet and then sloped back in the other direction, towards the rock spur behind them. Zariel disappeared around the bend and shortly thereafter shouted up, "I'm here. It looks safe. Come ahead, Pariah."
Pariah grabbed the rope and lowered herself. This was the easy part where gravity did the work and the rope was there just to keep it from working too well. Climbing up would be a bit more challenging, but she imagined they'd use the crampons to get purchase on the icy walls. She couldn't imagine how Macreadus had done it while injured.
The passage led to a small room with a dirt floor and walls of the same smooth blue-gray stone as the outside. The room was maybe slightly warmer than the outside, but still icy cold, and surfaces were covered with a thin layer of frost. The room was comfortably lit, though she could see no source. The shadowless illumination was just...there. The dirt floor was loose not packed down, and seemed a strange choice for the floor of a tower.
There were no furnishings. This seemed to be nothing more than a small foyer. At the far end of the room was an arched wooden door, slightly ajar. If this was part of a Netherese city, the wood was about two thousand years old, and yet it looked practically new. Pariah wondered if the cold, dry environment had preserved it.
The more noticeable feature was that it was upside down. The arch of the door was at the bottom, just an inch or so above the dirt, and the wide part flush with the ceiling. Of course, in reality it was that the room was upside down. She was technically standing on the ceiling, which made the loose soil even more confusing to her. The ceiling -- and she was going to call the surface above her the ceiling despite the fact it used to be the floor -- was just out of the reach of her extended arms.
From that ceiling hung two statues, dangling down like elaborate stalactites. They both depicted a long-faced human wizard holding a staff who glared sightlessly ahead. They might be the same man shown twice, or a pair of identical twins.
Pariah jumped as she heard a thump behind her, but it was just the first of their packs. Another followed, and then the rest. Zariel was pulling them out of the way and didn't look like she needed help.
Pariah pushed open the door to reveal a corridor. This hall had a floor of stone, not dirt, and the floor was about four feet down below the bottom of the doorway. The passage went about thirty feet before ending in stairs going down. The stairs were mounted on the ceiling so wouldn't be much help; they'd have to use ropes. There were doors on either side of the hall, the left one slightly nearer. She could see a slice of the room on the left but nothing interesting. The hall and both rooms seemed to be bathed in the same sourceless light.
She was impatient to explore, but she understood Bjarnson's point about establishing a camp first. Plus, from what she'd seen above, the others were feeling the cold. Hells, even she felt a shiver coming on. It would be better to wait.
"Hey, Lulu," she said to the asteri, who was sitting on the chin of one of the upside-down statues watching the packs come barreling down the icy tunnel. "You said there were some books, right?"
"Yeah."
"Could you bring me one?" Pariah asked sweetly. "I don't want to wander off."
"Sure," Lulu said brightly. She took flight, darted down the hall and entered the right door. After a few moments, she came back out, flying a little more slowly and struggling to hold a book. Pariah reached out and Lulu dropped it into her hands.
"Thanks," Pariah said, looking at the cover. It was the same strange alphabet as the Netherese book Avarice had been reading. She read aloud, "Mysteries of the...Phaerimm?" She didn't know the last word. She flipped through the pages and saw among the text were sketches of horrible creatures like slugs with four arms and mouths full of needle teeth. She made an involuntary noise of disgust.
"Do you want another one?" Lulu asked.
"No, this is fine. Hope there aren't any of these things lurking in this place," she said, showing one of the pictures to Lulu.
"Ew," Lulu said.
After the packs came the others, climbing down the rope one at a time. Bjarnson built a fire at the mouth of the tunnel while Eberic examined the stone around it.
"This was dug from the inside," he said. "And not well. See how jagged the edges are. A pick didn't do this. And this," he waved at the soil they stood on, "is from digging out the tunnel."
"Oh," Pariah said. "I wondered why there was so much dirt in here. So you think someone dug their way out?"
He shrugged, "Seems likely. But this dirt is well distributed, so either they came back down to clean up, or someone came in after them and smoothed it out for easier access."
Dejen asked, "Would that piton we found have been placed by someone going out or coming in?"
Eberic looked up the tunnel thoughtfully. The wind was whistling across the opening and a storm seemed to be blowing in, but down here the air was still. He said, "Coming in. So someone has definitely been here before."
Bjarnson mumbled some words and the wood burst into flame. "Like we said, they must be gone because they took their rope. This place has been abandoned for centuries."
Pariah looked down the hallway, and then down at the book of monsters she held in her hand. "I certainly hope so," she said quietly.
Notes:
I've changed a few things in this quest, some big some little. For example, the stairs are supposed to be choked with rubble but someone smashed holes in the ceiling/floor between levels. I decided the stairs were clear and there are no holes. There are also details like the lighting is supposed to be continual flame but I made it illumination with no source. All the book titles are from the module. I've changed all the magic items. More changes will be apparent in future exploration.
I realized something nitpicky recently. I have been referring to Auril's nightly light show as an aura. The correct word is aurora. I imagine nobody noticed, but I've gone back and fixed all the references I could find. I hope to remember moving forward.
Chapter 86: Cold and Lifeless
Summary:
The party explores the mysterious buried tower, looking Netherese technology that could stop the Everlasting Rime.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
A storm blew in while they were setting up their camp in the storeroom. The wind shrieked at the outer mouth of the tunnel, but barely a breeze found its way into the room. Pariah was worried about the dogs, but Bjarnson assured her that they were bred for the climate. They'd dig themselves into the snow and be fine.
She read some of the book Lulu had brought her but didn't get very far. The phaerimm were telepathic, sadistic creatures from the Underdark who had warred with Netheril for centuries. While the book was interesting in a horrible way, it wasn't useful to their current quest to find Netherese technology to break the Everlasting Rime.
Once everyone had warmed themselves around the fire for a while, they set out to explore the rest of the level. They were able to lower themselves from the entry room to the corridor floor that led to the other rooms on the level. Standing in the hallway, the bottoms of the doorways were about chest high to Pariah, and about forehead high to Eberic.
The first doorway led into a room littered with a jumble of equipment among two heavy, wooden work tables, one on its side and one upside down. Another doorway could be seen inside that led to a side room. It would be a squeeze to get everyone in there, so Pariah said, "Let's split up. Dejen, you'd probably be the best one to look through this stuff. I want to go check out the library. Bjarnson with me and Zariel with Dejen? And Eberic, you stay in the hall and make sure nothing creeps up on us?"
She was trying to spare the dwarf from having to climb over the walls into the adjacent rooms. Despite his insistence that he was fine, his chest wound was obviously paining him. She expected him to object, but he mumbled, "Fine," in a petulant tone. He wandered over to peer down into the space below the upside-down stairway.
Pariah scrambled over the low wall into the library. The outer wall was curved; the tower apparently had an oval cross section. Bookshelves were bolted to the outer walls and remained intact, though their contents had been spilled on the floor. There were narrow windows between the bookshelves. The windows showed nothing but packed earth outside. A large table stood in the room. One leg was broken but had been jammed up under the corner of the table against the stump that remained, holding up the table unsteadily. "That table certainly didn't fall like that," Pariah observed.
"No," Bjarnson agreed as he heaved himself over the wall. "Someone's been here, but I guess we knew that."
Lulu stood on the top of the doorway arch, looking into the room.
Most of the books were on the floor, though they had been sorted into piles. Those books seemed to be damaged, though it wasn't clear how badly. About a dozen books had been stacked on the table. These seemed to be in better condition. All of them had titles written in Netherese.
"Not sure how much help I'll be," Bjarnson said. "I can't read any of this."
"Look through those," Pariah said, motioning towards the piles on the floor. "See if you can find any that aren't too badly damaged, though it looks like someone else already took the good ones."
The books on the table included histories, biographies, a book on courtroom procedure, and a religious text about the worship of Mystryl. The most interesting volume was called Magical Wonders of Netheril and appeared to be about the creation of mythallars.
Bjarnson stopped to examine one of the windows, scratching the surface with a fingernail. "This isn't glass," he said. "I'm not sure what it is."
"Strong enough to hold back the dirt, I hope," Pariah said as she flipped through a dull story called Wizards in the Hollow. It wasn't clear to her if it was fiction or a badly written biography.
"I think it should be," he replied before turning to look through the damaged books.
They didn't anything obviously useful to their mission among the books. Pariah was tempted to haul them all off and see what she could glean from them later, but she knew they had limited space on the sleds so she chose what seemed to be the volumes in the best condition. If nothing else, they'd buy her several trips back to Candlekeep if she ever returned to that library.
She heard the clank of Zariel's armor as the warrior woman looked in. "Find anything?" she asked.
"A few books, one in particular." She grabbed a stack and handed them over the low wall. Zariel took them and carried them over to the wall under the door back to the entrance and left them on the floor there next to some pieces of equipment they had taken from the laboratory. Pariah handed another stack to Dejen and asked, "How did you do?"
"Some devices I've taken for further study," he said. Sheepishly he added, "We also found a chest of potions but...there was an accident."
Pariah raised her eyebrows at him.
He continued, "They were in a chest that was bolted to the floor. Well, what was the floor. What is now the ceiling. I had climbed up on Zariel's shoulders to reach it and unlock it with a key we found. Four potions fell out. I managed to catch one but the others crashed to the floor, shattering and spilling their contents."
Pariah laughed, "Well, I'm not sure I would have done any better. This place being upside down is hard to make sense of. We'll just have to be more careful in the future. Do you know what the potion does?"
"Nothing as far as I can tell. I opened it and the odor was foul. I think it's safe to assume that the contents spoiled after nearly two thousand years of storage, so I left it behind."
"Pity," she said.
Pariah and Bjarnson climbed out of the library. Eberic was already hammering a piton into the stone floor so they could lower a rope to the next level. As they had seen at the tunnel mouth, there was another piton already hammered into the stone. The stairs on the ceiling sloped down above their heads, which was disorienting.
Lulu went down first, flying while invisible to scout the next floor, and reported another library and another laboratory. Zariel led the way down the rope. Pariah came next, finding herself in a room. Like the library, the walls were curved. One large window looked out on the hard-packed earth the building was buried in. Next to it was an upside-down fireplace, its chimney leading into the floor. Around an upside-down table were scattered a handful of books, far fewer than in the library above.
Zariel was squatting down next to the table examining a skeleton. The skull was trapped under the heavy table, so it wasn't hard to guess what had killed him. The bones were clean, so Pariah guessed this had been one of the original residents of the tower, dead for nearly two thousand years.
There was an upside down door opposite the curved outer wall, and another door on the far wall. Pariah could see through the latter doorway, and the room beyond looked quite small.
Lulu came flying in from the side door. "There's another laboratory in there with cages. Some dead insect creature in one of the cages. And there's a closed door that I think probably leads to another stairway considering where it's placed. I didn't open it."
"Good," Zariel said. She had walked over to the far door to look at the small room. "It's probably best to be cautious. Even if there aren't-"
Her voice was cut off suddenly as she leaned her head across the low wall into the room, though Pariah could see her lips still moving. The other woman stopped and then pulled her head back, a puzzled look on her face. "That was odd. I was talking and then-" She stuck her head into the room, and again her voice was silenced.
She leaned out of the room, removed a gauntlet, and started snapping her fingers. She leaned into the other room and then back out, still snapping. "Interesting," she said. "There appears to be some kind of silence magic in that room."
"What's in there?" Pariah asked as she examined the books on the floor.
"A desk, some chairs, nothing else I could see."
"Probably a reading area," said Dejen. The others had made their way down the rope to join them. "Silence so that one can study without distraction."
"They have rooms like that in Candlekeep," Pariah said. "I don't like them. The complete lack of noise is creepy." She frowned towards the table and made a thoughtful noise.
"What?" Bjarnson asked.
"There's something here," she said. Wedged under the table about three feet from the skull of the poor guy on the floor was a metal container. "Can you lift this table a little?" The metal looked like it might be silver.
Bjarnson squatted down and lifted the table with a grunt and she was able to pull out the container. It was a bottle about a quart in size with a screw top attached by a chain. As she got a closer look she realized it wasn't silver; silver would have tarnished by now. It might be platinum, which was even better.
"This'll be worth a few coins," she said. She twisted the top and was surprised that it screwed off easily. She was more surprised when a trickle of steam came out of the open top along with an earthy odor. "I think...I think that's hot coffee," she said. She sniffed it and it smelled like good quality coffee, and she could feel the warmth of the steam on her face. There was Netherese writing on the side of the bottle. She read aloud, "Property of Jaya." She frowned. "Is this really a two-thousand-year-old bottle of coffee?"
"How does it taste?" Dejen asked.
She looked up to see all of them watching her. Dejen was fascinated. The expression of the others showed varying levels of concern or disgust. Zariel said hesitantly, "I would recommend against tasting it, but if you must, and it is poison, I could cure you."
"The odor is certainly better than the potions we found," Dejen pointed out.
The coffee smelled terrific, much better than any she had gotten in Icewind Dale. "Just a sip," she said. She carefully drank just a little. The temperature was hot but not scalding. The taste was bold, smoky and nutty. She savored it before swallowing, emitting an involuntary "mmm" sound. "That's great!" she said.
Seeing the concern on the faces of the others, she screwed the top back on and said, "But I'll save the rest for later. We should get back to exploring."
She went back to looking through the books while the others went over the low wall into the adjacent laboratory. She found two interesting titles: Ajamar's Guide to the Phantastic, a book about illusion magic, and The Unfettered Mind, a book she assumed was going to be about philosophy, but was actually about the possibility of living forever as a disembodied brain suspended in a jar of magical fluid. She grimaced at the idea; sometimes eternal life just wasn't worth it.
She put the books by the rope leading back up and then went to join the others in the laboratory.
Like the other room, this one had curved walls with windows that showed packed earth outside. The ground was littered with shattered equipment and tools that made no sense to her. Two metal cages lay on the floor, both damaged from the fall. One contained the withered carapace of an insect roughly the size and shape of a human, though with an extra pair of arms. It was squeezed through an area between bars that had been bent, probably by the fall. However the gap was clearly too small for the size of the creature's body. She guessed it had tried to escape after the crash and had gotten stuck. It must have died of hunger and thirst.
The other cage was empty. Dejen was puttering about the equipment, putting some aside and making notes with his quill. "I wish I had something that could instantly make images. I would love to keep drawings of these things even if we don't take them. Unfortunately I've never been good at drawing diagrams and schematics."
As Lulu had mentioned, there was another door, this one firmly closed. Eberic stood below the door staring up at the simple latch, which was a good nine feet up. Pariah remembered Dejen mentioning he had climbed on Zariel's shoulders but she had another idea. This wasn't a lock or deadbolt, just a handle, and should be easy to slide open if she could reach it with something.
"Hey, Dejen," she said, "do you have that stick we found at Macreadus's?"
"Hmm?" he asked, distracted by the pincer-like device he was studying. "Oh, yes. Here." He pulled the rod off his belt and held it out to her, his attention still on lab equipment. She took it from him, held it parallel to the ground, and said, "Puroshir." The ends shot out until it was about twice as long as she was tall. She took it to the door and then carefully raised the end towards the latch.
In her mental image of this task, she had just popped open the latch with a quick sweep, but the long pole was hard to move with any precision at all. She kept missing the latch, and even when she got it close she couldn't get it at the right angle to slide the mechanism to the right. She continued to fiddle with it, getting more and more frustrated. "Talona's tits," she grumbled.
Lulu was standing on the sill of a nearby window, and said, "You want me to open it?"
Pariah hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course a person who could fly could open the latch. It's not like it was heavy, and Lulu was surprisingly strong for her size anyhow. She grumbled, "Well, sure, if you want to do it the easy way," and then laughed in embarrassment. She spoke the command word to shrink the staff, and gave it back to Dejen.
The little angel flew up, slid the latch to the side, and started to pull on the door with straining wings. She got it open enough that Pariah could get her fingertips on the edge of the door and pull it the rest of the way open.
The door revealed an upside-down spiral stairway downwards. She leaned through the door to see the stairway went down more than one level but the underside of the stone steps prevented her from seeing how far. A piton was hammered into the stone to the right side. She pulled on it and it seemed firm. She leaned back into the room and told them what she had seen.
"I'm not going to trust someone else's equipment," Eberic said. He climbed up onto the low wall that had been the top of the doorway, straddled the arch, and pulled a piton and hammer from his belt. He pounded the metal spike into the wall of the doorway. They had four coils of rope and had used two, so they were still fine in terms of supplies.
Lulu flew down and came back up quickly. "It goes down two levels. Each level has a door, both closed. Should I open them?"
Zariel made an uncertain noise and said, "Maybe the first one. I'm still worried there may be traps or some other dangers. Just look inside and see what you find."
By the time Eberic had finished, Lulu came back. "I think it's another laboratory, probably an alchemist or wizard or something. There's a smashed door that leads into a shrine to Mystryl, and another door that's locked. Should I look at the other floor?"
"Not yet," Zariel said. "Let's take this one at a time so we don't get separated. You saw nothing dangerous?"
"Just lots of broken glass on the floor," the asteri said.
Eberic had tied a rope to the piton and flung it out so it dropped down the central shaft of the stairs. He grabbed the rope and dropped off his perch, climbing down before anyone could stop him. Pariah could see the pain on his face, but he clearly wasn't going to let that stop him.
Zariel went next and then Pariah. It was a little tricky to swing on the rope to reach the open doorway. Zariel struggled with the maneuver but Pariah managed it easily.
The laboratory took up most of this floor. Arcane diagrams were painted on the ceiling, which had once been the floor. Upside-down storage cupboards were mounted on the walls, their contents now scattered across the room. Much of that had been glass alchemical vessels, and the shards crunched beneath her boots as she walked around. A path had been cleared through the debris to an upside-down wooden door on the right wall when facing away from the stairs. Ahead of her was the remains of a door. It looked like this had been a stone door hidden in the wall. Someone had inelegantly smashed the stone portal open rather than trying to find the mechanism.
Eberic was examining the wooden door. Zariel was standing in the shattered doorway, her head bowed. Pariah moved up beside her and Zariel put out an arm to stop her from entering the room. "I think we should respect this space," she said.
"I hadn't planned to loot it," Pariah said, which was at least half true. "I was just looking."
A stone altar hung from the ceiling of the semi-circular room. An eight-pointed star was carved into the face of the altar. Pariah recognized the symbol from the book of Mystryl worship she'd found above. She remembered from Dejen's story of Karsus's Folly that Mystryl had been the goddess of magic. She sacrificed herself to save the Weave from being destroyed by Karsus's actions, and had been reborn as Mystra.
From behind her, Eberic hissed and snapped his fingers. He was standing at the closed door, motioning the group over with one hand while the other hand held a finger to his lips. The group moved over and he pointed to the door.
Like everywhere else, this door was upside down. What had been a curved arch above the door was now a shoulder-high wall below it. Eberic was pointing to a latch on the door mounted a couple of feet above wall.
"So?" Dejen asked in a normal tone of voice.
Eberic made a frustrated motion for him to be quiet. He whispered, "This is the top of the door. You can see the original latch up there," he pointed up to the handle that was out of reach. "This is new. Someone has added this since the tower was buried. Someone who might be inside that room right now."
He was right. This latch would far too high if this door were the right way up. Now that she was looking for it, Pariah could see the metal was newer.
Dejen whispered, "Anyone in there would probably be dead by now. There is no way back out of here so they wouldn't be able to get food."
"I guess that depends on how long its been since someone else has been down here," Pariah observed. "Or maybe it's just a secret lair someone's been using but they aren't here now. Or it's a prison cell. Or anything else."
Eberic scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Either way, we should be careful. Let's be ready before we open it."
"I'll stand at the doorway," Zariel said. "Eberic, you pull the door open. The rest of you, stay back and be ready." She drew her sword and shield and took a stance next to the door.
Pariah didn't have her bow; she'd left it with their other things upstairs. She moved her shield from her back to her arm, and drew her weapon. Bjarnson summoned a flame into his palm, ready to throw it, and Dejen took out his hand crossbow and quill. Lulu perched on a piece of broken equipment nearby and turned invisible. When everyone was ready, Zariel signaled to Eberic.
The dwarf grabbed the handle, flicked the latch and pulled on the door, which opened into the room they were in. The odor of rotting flesh drifted out and Pariah looked past Zariel to see that Dejen had been right about something: anyone in that room would have to be dead. She saw a man clad in leather armor, his pale skin pulling away from the bones of his face, and white-hot points of light shining from his solid-black eyes.
The corpse whirled and snarled at them, baring pointed teeth. He drew a jagged-edged blade and charged the doorway.
Notes:
The potions being spoiled was something I changed. I know I can wave away logic "because magic", but potions that are still effective after two thousand years seems a bit unrealistic.
The bottle is a bottle of boundless coffee from Strixhaven, which I added to the module. Rather than working like it does in the book, it can produce up to 600 ml (2.5 cups) per hour. I'm fine with the coffee being fresh despite the artifact's age because I assume the bottle creates the liquid when it's opened, so it wouldn't have spoiled like the potions.
Pariah's thought process opening the door mirrored mine. While I was writing her clumsily poking at the latch with the ten-foot pole, I suddenly thought, "You know, Lulu could open that in an instant."
Chapter 87: Matters of Life and Death
Summary:
Inside the Netherese tower, an undead warrior attacks the party.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
As the undead warrior charged forward, a man's voice from inside the room shouted, "Wait! Krintaas, wait! They might be able to help us."
Zariel's sword was glowing and she was ready to fight, but a low wall was between her and the enemy. She sheathed her sword and started to reach for a javelin from the quiver on her back.
The undead creature had stopped, though his weapon was drawn and he was baring his pointed teeth at the group. A tall, handsome human man came into view from the side to stand in front of the warrior, a hand held up to stop him. The man was wearing a green tunic looking a bit worn around the bottom, dull white breeches, and leather boots. He had ash-blonde hair peeking out from a pointed hat with a wide brim. His face, which bore a scraggly beard, was familiar, though Pariah couldn't think where she could possibly have met him before. "Please," he said earnestly to the group, removing his hat, "I want to talk to you."
Zariel had her javelin out and was preparing to throw it. Pariah rushed forward to put a hand on her arm. "Hold on! Let's hear them out."
The other woman whirled on her, rage on her face. "That undead thing must be destroyed," she snarled. "It is an evil abomination."
The undead warrior wasn't moving to attack, though he was clearly as ready to fight as Zariel. The others in their group were standing at the ready, waiting to see what would happen. Pariah looked up at Zariel. "General Olanthius was undead, but he was a good man. He and his army from the tomb helped save Elturel. Let's just hear what they have to say."
Zariel ground her teeth as she stared down at Pariah, thoughts chasing themselves behind her eyes. She looked back at the undead creature and, though her stance didn't relax at all, she grated out, "Speak quickly!"
"Thank you," the blonde man said in relief. "We mean you no harm. Please come in. Sit down. Let us talk."
Nobody moved, including the undead warrior who was ready to charge forward. "Krintaas," the man said, "please put away your weapon."
The undead warrior didn't lower his sword. "I have been charged with protecting you. These bandits are likely to murder us both and plunder the tower."
"We don't know that," the man insisted. "Put away your weapon!"
When Krintaas still didn't obey, Pariah sheathed her sword and said, "How about if we all put away our weapons." To Zariel she pointedly added, "All right? Let's see if there is a peaceful solution here."
Zariel and Krintaas locked eyes, but she reluctantly returned the javelin to the quiver. "Very well."
"Krintaas?" the man said.
"This is a mistake," the undead warrior said, but stowed his weapon in the sheath at his hip.
"Please, come in," the man beckoned to them as he and Krintaas backed further into the room.
Zariel climbed over the wall first and then took up a position in the far corner of this side of the room, her hand on the hilt of her sword. Pariah came next and then the others. Pariah expected Eberic to struggle, due to both his height and his injury, but he nimbly climbed over the low wall to join the rest of them.
The room had been tidied up and arranged as a small office. A large table dominated the space. Several books were on the table. Pariah could see the titles of only two: Lost Scrolls of Sabreyl and From Shadow, Substance. She also noticed a platinum-framed wooden disc nearly a handspan across being used as a paperweight.
Four chairs were scattered around the table, and their host offered them to the guests. Eberic and Zariel remained standing but the other three took seats. The strange man inclined his head politely before taking the last, sitting on the other side of the table with Krintaas standing beside him.
"There," the man said cheerfully. "Isn't that better?"
"Are you also undead?" Dejen blurted out.
"He is not," Zariel replied.
"I am not," the man agreed, "though I suppose that's not a surprising assumption in this dead place." He gave them a warm smile.
"It's not just that," Dejen said. "I find myself wondering how someone gets food when living down here. I also notice that you don't wear warm clothes despite the subfreezing temperatures. We've found others who have been able to bear the cold, but I see no symbols of Auril or..." He broke off and then finished, "...anyone else who might offer followers resistance to cold." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Do you have a brother? A twin perhaps?"
Pariah was surprised she hadn't noticed that the man wasn't wearing winter clothes, but that final comment really caught her attention. To Dejen she said, "Have we met him before? I thought he looked familiar."
Dejen didn't answer her question right away, instead watching the man intently, waiting for an answer.
The blonde man said, "Well, not a brother exactly. Why, have you met Dzaan?"
Dzaan, she thought. The name was familiar, but where... "The wizard!" she blurted. "The one who was burned at the stake!"
The man looked at her wide-eyed, his mouth dropping open. "Dzaan is dead?" he asked in horror.
Embarrassment washed over her. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to be so blunt. But, yes, we saw the wizard, Dzaan, put to death in Easthaven about a tenday or so ago."
"Oh, no," the man said sadly, looking up at Krintaas. The warrior met his gaze with a furrowed brow, as though trying to understand what was just said.
"Then what is your name?" Dejen prompted.
The man was lost in thought for a moment, but then looked at Dejen. "Dzaan just called me 'That'. I suppose that's as good a name as any." He said forlornly, "Though I guess I'm the real Dzaan now."
"What do you mean 'the real Dzaan'?" Dejen asked.
Pariah remembered the battle in Avernus with Tasha, a clone of the witch Iggwilv. She asked, "Are you some kind of copy?"
"Yes," the man nodded. "A simulacrum made of ice and snow and given his memories and some of his power." Then, getting excited, he said, "And that's what I want to talk to you about. There is a chamber in the lowest level that can turn illusions real. I think it can turn me into a real person! But I need your help."
Krintaas scowled down at the man, but then his frown faded and he looked thoughtful.
The man continued, "The problem is that the ritual requires a life-spark, and neither I nor my bodyguard qualify. But if one of you could help -- I assure you the procedure is completely harmless -- then I could be given life and Dzaan would be able to live on!"
"Really!" Dejen exclaimed. "I would love to see this chamber."
"Wonderful," the simulacrum gushed. "It's just down on the level below."
Pariah eyed him suspiciously. "Any traps? Monstrous guardians? Anything like that?"
"No," he shook his head. "Well, I mean, I don't think so. I haven't seen it. Dzaan created me after he found it and said I was his contingency plan. He said that if something happened to him, I was to use the chamber to become real. I've been waiting for him to come back." Sheepishly he added, "I don't know how it works or anything. Krintaas, did you see anything when you were with him."
"No," said the bodyguard. The simulacrum waited to see if he had any more to add, but apparently that was all he had to say.
Cautiously he asked, "So, will you help me?"
Pariah thought it certainly seemed like it was worth investigating. "I'm all right with that, though we should go take a look at the room fist."
"I think," Zariel said firmly, "that we should discuss it outside first. Come to a decision as a group."
Pariah was surprised by her vehemence, but said, "Yeah, all right."
The simulacrum seemed frustrated. "If you do this, you can take anything in this tower. I want nothing but my life. I assume you came here for treasure, and there are still valuable items here. Take them all!"
His generosity made Pariah more suspicious than before. If he'd agreed to split the loot, she would have felt more trusting. On the other hand, once upon a time she'd have gladly sacrificed a tower of valuables to regain her soul.
Dejen said, "Actually, we are looking for information. A man was here some time ago and discovered a device that he thought could end the Everlasting Rime. It worked...sort of. For a few hours. We hope to find more information and maybe create something more permanent."
"Yes, of course," the simulacrum said with enthusiasm. "I'm sure you’ve seen there are books and equipment that could fuel your research. You can take it all, study it all. Anything you want." He gave them an earnest look. "As a copy, I can't heal." He sighed heavily. "With my creator gone, I think I will probably just wither away. Please help me," he pleaded.
"We will consider that in our decision," Zariel said sternly. To the others, she said, "Come, let us go outside and discuss this."
Dejen started to say, "Well, I think we-"
Zariel cut him off to say, "We should take this outside."
Pariah saw her point, though also thought she was being awfully rude about it. She said, "I have questions for him first."
Zariel pursed her lips and sighed, "Very well."
Pariah turned to the simulacrum and asked, "What can you tell us about the other Brotherhood wizards who are here?"
He hesitated, and she watched emotions play across his face. She fully expected him to say, "Who?" in the exaggerated tone of a bad liar.
However, after his expression settled into a calculating frown, he said, "I came with two others. Avarice is one of your people, though paler than you. She is cruel, enjoys destruction, and can't be trusted. She's incredibly paranoid, assuming everyone is the kind of schemer she is. She trusts only her gargoyle servants, and even that trust is fragile."
How appropriate for a minion of the Lord of Betrayal, Pariah thought to herself.
He continued, "Vellynne is a human necromancer. Cold and ruthless, though not sadistic like Avarice. She's gotten far in life because she comes from a prestigious family, but her family name does her no good here. She doesn't know what to do if she can't use her reputation to cow people."
Pariah waited for him to go on. When he didn't, she prompted, "And?"
"And what?" he asked confused. "Those are the two I came with."
"Someone named Nass Lantomir came out as well. Do you know her?"
He looked stunned, and then he laughed. "Did she?" He shook his head. "How like her. She is a talentless upstart whose aspirations are well above her talents. She is a human who specializes in divination and psychic magic. Be careful: if you meet her, she will try to read your thoughts. Her weakness is that she always looks ahead and never behind. Coming out here alone, thinking she could beat us, is exactly the kind of delusional and reckless thing she'd do."
"And what were you sent out here for?"
Again he paused, again she could see he debated telling a lie, but then he waved about them in a resigned way. "This. There is supposed to be a Netherese city buried here. Dzaan found this piece of it, but never found the rest."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully. "All right, that's all I had." She looked at the others, but none of them had any questions.
They climbed over the wall back out into the laboratory outside. Zariel closed the door to the chamber, and then beckoned them all towards Mystryl's shrine. Once they had gathered, she said in a quiet but unyielding voice, "I don't think we should help him."
"Why?" Pariah asked. "Is it because he has an undead bodyguard?"
"Yes, that's part of it. Those who dabble in necromancy are enemies of Lathander and should not be trusted." With a frown she added, "Despite the merits of General Olanthius." She continued, "But that's not my only objection. He is not just some random person. He is the copy of a man who was executed for multiple murders, and who was a member of the Arcane Brotherhood. From what Dejen has told us, the wizards who belong to the Arcane Brotherhood are generally power-hungry and malicious. He may be sycophantic now because he needs our help, but there is no reason to believe he is any more moral than Avarice or the necromancer we met in Bryn Shander."
Pariah made a thoughtful noise. "While that may be true, I don't like the idea of condemning someone to death just because he's a member of a group. We don't know that he," she pointed towards the distant door, "has done anything wrong."
"But we know his duplicate did. Dejen, do you know about this kind of magic? Would this double have the same motivations and morals of the original?"
He shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. If I had time I could do some research, but I'm afraid I don't have an answer off the top of my head. But I feel we have to help him. He has done us no wrong." His face lit up, "Besides, I would love to see a device turn a construct into an actual mortal being!"
Eberic leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "We have no reason to trust him. He says this process requires a life spark. He claims it's safe but there is no proof of that. Perhaps the machine drains the life from one person to awaken something else. And even if it is safe, he may turn on us when he gets his life and power back. I say we just take what we need. We don't have to kill him, but I see no reason to help him."
All eyes turned towards Bjarnson, who was leaning on his staff staring up at the altar over their heads. After a moment, he said, "I want to know more about the ritual, and I mean from someone like you," he said to Dejen. "The life spark he mentions makes me lean towards wanting to help him. Life from life is the natural way of things and, while I agree the process is probably not as safe as it he claims, that doesn't mean it's lethal to the volunteer. Let's go study the chamber and draw our own conclusions."
"That makes sense," Pariah admitted. "Lulu, what about you?"
The asteri was standing on Zariel's shoulder. Hesitantly she said, "I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I talked to the other Dzaan. He was cold and scary and I didn't like him, but we don't know anything about this person. We don't know that he's the same. He deserves a chance."
Pariah, springing on the momentum of the conversation, said, "Then let's go down and look at the chamber. Maybe we can figure out whether it's safe or not before making our final decision. And we've already discovered a lot here. Worst case, we can just take what we found and leave. Once we take the rope up, he can't follow us."
Zariel had a stormy expression, but grumbled, "Very well."
"I'll go tell him," Dejen said and hurried out of the shrine. He pulled open the door and stuck his head into the other room. "We are going to go down and investigate the chamber you found. I'm sure we'll probably help, but we want to have all the facts first."
Pariah grimaced, thinking he shouldn't be making promises yet, but it wasn't worth correcting him. She heard a response from inside the room, but couldn't make out the words.
Eberic hammered another piton into the wall by the upside-down spiral stairs. The rope was dangling down the shaft from the floor above, but it was out of reach of anyone straddling the low wall. Lulu flew out and pulled the rope towards them. Eberic hauled it up so he could thread the end through the piton on this floor and then dropped it back down to the next.
Meanwhile, Lulu flew down to investigate the lower level, Zariel warning her to be careful. The asteri returned fairly quickly.
"There's a bedroom and a little dining room," she reported. "I saw the chamber and there's all kinds of magical whatsits written on the walls. I didn't go inside."
As before, Zariel led the way. The rope continued past the door of the lowest level, down into the conical roof of the tower, so Zariel had to swing on the rope to get to the doorway. This time she held the rope after dismounting, bracing against the wall so the others could climb down more easily.
Pariah came next, finding herself in a hallway that led straight to a blank wall about thirty feet away. There was an open door immediately to the right that led into the dining room. There didn't seem to be anything other than broken tables, chairs, and plates. There were knives and forks and spoons, but they were made of common metals and badly rusted so not worth anything.
Down the corridor was another open door on the left and a final one further down on the right. Pariah moved cautiously to the first door, which was the bedroom Lulu had mentioned. The furnishings inside looked luxurious, at least as much as she could tell in their decayed state. A double bed lay upside down on the floor on top of a disintegrating blue blanket. The remains of two dressers held rotted shreds of clothing, and a shattered desk spilled papers onto the floor. Under the dirt-blocked windows was a skeleton wearing a few remnants of what might have been a nightgown or a long tunic.
Her guess was this was the tower owner, probably a sage or wizard. She couldn't see books or anything obviously valuable, though it would be worth sifting through the debris to be sure. That could come later.
She continued down the hall to the final upside-down doorway and peered inside without leaning in past the threshold. As Lulu had said, the walls were covered in "magical whatsits" -- runes carved into the stone, too small to make out at this distance. The runes were grouped into lines. She could see enough of the ceiling to see similar inscriptions that swirled inward towards a golden crystal disk that looked about as wide as she was tall. Since that had been the floor, she assumed the target had to stand on the disk. That might make things difficult.
Lulu and Dejen, the third person down the rope, came to join her. "Oh, this is amazing," he breathed. "How do you think it works? Oh, that writing probably tells us."
Before Pariah realized what he was going to do, he was scrambling over the arched wall that had been the top of the upside down door. "Wait," she said as she grabbed at him. She snagged his cloak but he was already inside the room.
As soon as his feet hit the floor, she felt a low vibration running through the stone. She tugged on his clothing, hissing, "Get out of there!" but he was mesmerized with a wide smile on his face.
A ghostly shape appeared on the ceiling in the middle of the circle. "Talona's tits," she said, drawing her sword. "We may have a problem," she shouted down the hall to Zariel, who was assisting Eberic off the rope.
She climbed over the wall, watching the shape above her grow more solid. She got her shield off her back and onto her arm and stood in front of Dejen, who was still staring up with childlike joy and showing no sign of being ready for battle.
The shape coalesced into a long-faced human wearing a robe and holding a staff carved with runes. He stood in the middle of the circle, his feet against the ceiling, facing the doorway but looking over her head. He cast his arms wide and his voice boomed out into the room.
She couldn't understand his words. She thought she caught a hint of Espruar, words like shadow and room, but wasn't sure if this meant he was speaking a distantly related dialect or her mind was just seeing patterns where there were none. However he wasn't talking to her or anyone really, just orating at the doorway over her head.
His speech lasted maybe fifteen seconds, and then he inclined his head and faded away. She had heard Zariel and Eberic arrive behind her but she kept her eyes on the room, waiting to see what would happen next. Nothing did.
"Well, that was quite exciting!" Dejen exclaimed, scribbling in the air. "Did anyone else think that sounded a bit elvish?"
"Maybe," Pariah said, still alert for traps or magic or ghosts from the past. "I thought I recognized a couple of words."
"I wish I knew more about their language," he said in frustration. "It was called...something starting with L. Lor...Lor...Loross? Yes, that might be it. I don't know anything about it, but maybe it has roots in common with Espruar. Pariah, you say you can read their language. Is it structured like Espruar?"
She was starting to relax now that it seemed nothing else was going to happen. She sheathed her sword. "I don't know. I don't see the language, just the translation. It all just makes sense in my head."
"Pity," he said. "It's possible he was telling us how to use this device."
Pariah frowned up at where the image had been. "His tone didn't sound like he was giving instructions. It's more like he was bragging about his creation and how brilliant he was."
She turned at the sound of grunting to see Eberic climbing into the room. Zariel was still in the hall and she said, "I'll go help Bjarnson down."
Lulu started to fly up towards the ceiling and Pariah said, "Lulu, stay away from that big disc in the middle for now. We don't know how any of this works and what other surprises are in store."
She looked at the nearest wall. She had studied a little arcane symbology, but wasn't likely to be able to...
That was odd. She looked at the inscriptions more closely. "There's writing here," she said. "There's magical runes but there's also...hmm...they are just fragments of sentences. It's like they've combined regular words and magic symbols."
Dejen was at her shoulder. "Really? Show me." He pointed to a random line. "What does this say?"
The letters were upside down, which made things more challenging, but she was able to puzzle out the writing. "It's talking about illusions and substance, but things like this and this don't seem to be words. Or at least I'm not seeing them as words."
"Those are runes common in illusion-based magic. What else can you see?"
She ran her finger along the line, translating the words she could and leaving it to Dejen to understand the symbols while he scribbled furiously.
She glanced to the side to see his face was lit up like a child who'd found a mountain of candy. She couldn't help grinning as she got back to translating the writing for him.
Notes:
Krintaas is a wight; I never mention that specifically in the story because I don't like automatically using labels like that. I figure the average person, or even an adventurer like Pariah, doesn't know the different types of undead.
There was supposed to be a basilisk in the dining room, but basilisks are warm weather creatures, plus it would have starved to death by now, so I removed it. I'm sure the level is perfectly safe now...
The language spoken by the illusion was Loross, the language of Netheril. This section of the book doesn't say anything about understanding it, but later on it says that anyone who understands Elvish also understands Loross. I guess that's just a shortcut to allow players to understand some things, but it seems illogical to me.
Chapter 88: An Occult Ritual
Summary:
The party debates about whether to help Dzaan's simulacrum become a real person.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
After about half an hour, Pariah and Dejen climbed out of the rune chamber into the corridor to look for the others, who had been exploring the other two rooms. The pair found their companions in the dining room where Eberic and Bjarnson sat on the only two surviving chairs, Lulu sat on the leg of a table on its side, and Zariel paced the room restlessly.
"So what did you find?" Zariel asked as the other two leaned on the low wall between the hall and the dining area.
Pariah, knowing Dejen was likely to launch into a longer explanation than was needed, said quickly, "It might work but there are a couple of problems."
"Oh?"
"First of all, from what Dejen was able to figure out, the room turns illusions into reality, even illusions of living creatures. The thing is he's a real object, not an image. An illusion of Dzaan would work; I don't know if a copy of him will."
Zariel relaxed, seeming pleased with that answer. "He may not be happy with that information, but certainly he can't blame us for his false assumption."
Dejen said, "Perhaps, but it's not his assumption. It was Dzaan's, and he had more time than I did to-" He frowned and then blurted, "Is it hot in here?"
Pariah realized he was right. The air coming out of the dining room was warm, almost too warm. Their companions had removed their furs.
"It's this," Bjarnson said, holding up a box made of dark wood with elaborate scrollwork and a golden clasp. Inside, nestled in a red silk lining, was a fist-sized lump of yellow crystal. "We found it in the bedroom." He stood and carried it over to her. "Go ahead. Pick it up," he grinned.
She looked at him suspiciously. "Is this some kind of trick?"
He laughed. "No. Look." He picked up the crystal and held it out.
She took it cautiously and was surprised by how warm it was. It felt almost like a small animal in her palm. "How?" she asked.
He shrugged. "You two are the magic experts. And there's another thing." He took the crystal from her and put it in the box. He snapped the lid shut, and the room was abruptly freezing cold again.
Dejen stuttered, "But that doesn't make sense. If it's warming the air, then it should take time for the thermal energy to dissipate."
"I know," Bjarnson said. "But the heat goes away instantly and," he opened the box, "comes back instantly." Again the air was warm. "It's a little hot for my taste, and we'll still have to build fires for cooking, but this seems like it will be useful."
Dejen looked at the crystal intently, though he didn't pick it up. "No runes or inscriptions," he mumbled to himself. "I wonder how it works."
Zariel interrupted, "You were saying there were two problems?"
"Hmm?" Dejen said. "Oh, yes, well the other problem is that many of the runes are cracked. I'm not sure if the damage was done on initial impact or if the walls have been shifting over the centuries, but the magical inscriptions show some damage. It might be completely broken. It might be fine. It might work but produce distorted results. It might work but...well, you saw what happened to the Summer Star."
Pariah made a sarcastic grunt.
"Good," Zariel said thoughtfully. "I have meditated on this matter and, while I have come to accept that we should give this man a chance to decide the kind of person he is, I'm not disappointed that a duplicate of an evil man will not be able to become mortal."
"May not be able to become mortal," Dejen corrected her.
"Then we leave it in the hands of the gods," she said. "It works or not, at their whim."
Pariah rolled her eyes but remained silent.
Zariel continued, "So let's go tell him what we've discovered, and let him make his own decision."
"I can't wait to see this ritual in action," Dejen squealed, and he headed towards the rope that led back up.
"What about this spark of life?" she asked somberly. "Is it safe for the person involved?"
"Oh, yes," he said as he grabbed the rope and started to pull himself up. "It is just a spark, like the spark from a flint can start a fire. It will require a negligible amount of life energy to nudge the process for the illusion of a living creature."
"Would one of the dogs work?" she asked.
Bjarnson scowled at her but it was Dejen who answered, shouting down the shaft, "I don't believe so. It has to be the spark of a similar type of life, so humanoid for humanoid."
"I see," Zariel said in disappointment.
Eberic was eying the rope. "No reason for us all to go back up," he said.
"True," she agreed. "I will go up with him to ensure his safety, but the rest of you might as well stay here." She grabbed the rope and, despite her size and her armor, climbed quickly and skillfully out of sight.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Eberic mumbled.
Bjarnson asked Pariah, "Do you think the process is safe?" He closed the case holding the crystal and the air grew cold again.
She put up her hands in a shrug. "I honestly don't know. Dejen was excited about it, but I had trouble understanding the magic side of things. As for me, the last Netherese artifact I was around literally killed me, so I'm going to wait out here in the hall."
He grunted with a lopsided grin as he and Eberic started putting their cold weather clothing back on. "That might be best," he agreed. "I'm guessing Dejen will want to be in the thick of it."
"Of course he will be," she laughed. Growing more serious, she said, "I'm concerned about the damage to the runes. At worst, I'm hoping that just means it doesn't work rather than exploding."
"I know some minor protection magic that I think I'll cast on him. Zariel might have something as well. Do you?"
She shook her head. "One spell that affects me, but nothing that affects anyone else."
"We'll just have to protect him as best we can," he sighed, "and hope for the best. But I agree that it would be best for us to stay out here in case something does go wrong."
It wasn't long before the rope, which Eberic had secured on this level with a piton, grew taut as someone climbed down. It was the undead bodyguard, Krintaas, who adroitly dismounted and glared at the rest of them suspiciously before moving down the corridor towards the chamber.
The simulacrum came next. Pariah wasn't sure what to call him in her head. She didn't want to call him Dzaan for a number of reasons, including the fact that he really was a different person than the man who had been burned at the stake, and she certainly wasn't going to call him something as demeaning as That.
Dzaan Jr.? Mini-Dzaan? Not-Quite-Dzaan? Faux Dzaan?
"What's so funny?" Bjarnson whispered to her.
She realized she had been grinning at the names she had been coming up with. Embarrassed, she said, "Nothing, just silly thoughts."
The simulacrum hurried down the corridor, brimming with excitement. The illusionary wizard's voice boomed out from the chamber as Krintaas entered. Not-Quite-Dzaan climbed over the wall to join him.
Dejen came down the rope next. He was nearly as excited as the simulacrum. As Bjarnson helped him to dismount from the rope, they heard the simulacrum call out, "It's glowing. It's working. Quickly, someone come give me the spark of life!"
Pariah followed Dejen down the hall to peek inside the room. She hadn't expected the simulacrum to start the ritual before they had gathered. The crystal disk on the ceiling was glowing with a warm, amber light. The simulacrum was standing below it, looking up with a joyful smile.
"Fascinating," Dejen said, and then started to climb over the wall to join them.
"Wait," Bjarnson said, holding out a hand to stop him. He held out his quarterstaff and said, "May the spirits of nature protect you." He touched the staff to Dejen's shoulder. Pariah thought she saw a mote of energy move from the staff into him, but it was hard to tell.
Zariel had come down the rope and witnessed this. From her position at the stairs, she reached out towards him and said a short prayer in Enochian. A barely visible field of energy appeared around him.
"I don't think all that is necessary," he said, "but I suppose it's always best to be safe."
As he climbed over the wall into the rune chamber, Pariah backed into the corridor for protection and thought, "Tymora, please grant Dejen good fortune."
"Quickly, quickly," came the simulacrum's voice in a tone somewhere between pleading and ordering.
"All right," Dejen exclaimed, "here we go!"
Pariah waited nervously as seconds went by, and then the silence was torn apart by a primal shriek of pain.
"Traitors!" Krintaas yelled. "What have you done?"
Pariah rushed to the doorway. The simulacrum stood beneath the glowing crystal disk, still screaming. His voice was dissolving into a bubbling screech as his body transformed into a vaguely humanoid pile of black sludge that was quickly melting into a blob that spread across the floor. Dejen backed away from it, looking down in horror, and the undead bodyguard had his blade bare and was charging towards Dejen.
She scrambled over the wall as Dejen backed away from Krintaas. She tried to intercept the bodyguard's jagged sword with her own blade, and turned what would have been a serious wound into a glancing blow against Dejen's armor. She interposed herself between Krintaas and Dejen as the other man backed off. The black blob of sludge wasn't even vaguely humanoid anymore, but was still moving, striking clumsily at her with thick pseudopods of oily sludge.
She pulled the last bead off the string at her neck and crushed it in her hand before releasing the storm of freezing cold before her. Frost covered the undead bodyguard and took his attention off Dejen, but it seemed to do no harm to the ten-foot-wide lump of black pudding.
"Cold doesn't hurt it," she yelled over her shoulder. She didn't know where Dejen was, other than he was behind her, but a bolt shot into the air over their heads and burst into a cloud of sparkles that settled on Krintaas, outlining him in an eerie purple glow.
A streak of fire came from behind her and hit the black pudding. The sludge burned and released noxious smoke as the thing recoiled from the strike. Bjarnson yelled, "Fire does!"
Eberic and Zariel joined the battle. Zariel charged at Krintaas with rage in her eyes, her glowing sword wielded in both hands and her shield on her back. Pariah was afraid that her anger was about to burst into burning radiance, but at the moment she seemed under control. She dueled with Krintaas and he blocked her blows, but her fury smashed past one of his parries and her blade cut across his chest to burst with a release of divine energy, staggering the warrior.
Eberic tried to get to him but was blocked by the black pudding. As the blob struck at him he stabbed with his ice dagger. Pariah was surprised when it recoiled from the wound. Slime splashed out from the injury to land on Eberic's hand, and he cried out in surprise as vapor rose from his burning skin.
Pariah and Zariel continued to drive Krintaas back. She was glad that his attention was focused on the heavily armored Zariel rather than her but, although Krintaas had clearly been badly injured by that last hit, he was holding his own against them and they couldn't get in the final blow.
Eberic continued to duel with the massive blob of ooze. He seemed to be hurting it somehow, perhaps the magic inherent in his dagger, but he also had been splashed multiple times by the corrosive ooze.
Something moved past her ear from behind her, whispering darkly in her mind and causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up before continuing past to intercept the blob of ooze. The black pudding reared up in a column, like an animal recoiling from someone wielding fire. As the creature loomed up, Pariah saw an opportunity and slashed at it. Her sword cut deeply into the ooze and the wound opened wider and wider until the black pudding split into two blobs. Her hand burned as the slime spattered her, though the pain wasn't too bad. However, as she drew her weapon back, she could see the corrosive fluid etching the edge. "Oh, come on!" she cried out in frustration. "I just had to replace all my stuff!"
Whether it was due to the wound she had inflicted or that strange psychic disturbance, the two blobs turned and started flowing away. They oozed up the sheer wall without slowing down. Pariah tried to keep aware of Krintaas, who was locked in a duel with Zariel, and the tiefling watched the blobs climb to the ceiling and then start moving over their heads. "Look out!" she yelled as they dropped down.
Zariel hadn't been paying attention so was engulfed by the black pudding and knocked to her knees by the sudden, unexpected weight falling from a dozen feet overhead. Her armor started to smoke as the thing wormed its way into any opening it could find to attack her flesh. Krintaas saw his opportunity and slashed down, but it left him open. Zariel stabbed forward and her sword pierced his belly and came out his back. He bared his sharp, jagged teeth at her and then the motes of light in his eyes faded as he slumped back.
Eberic fared better, but only slightly. He had been watching the other pudding so had leapt back and avoided being engulfed, but the thing had lashed out and slapped a wave of corrosive slime across his body. His armor was also smoking, with visible holes in the leather, but he didn't back off as he continued to stab at it.
Pariah didn't want to risk further damage to her weapon but all her magic was cold based, and her bow was upstairs. She slashed at the ooze covering Zariel, careful not to hit the woman underneath. Eberic continued stabbing at the other blob of goo, Bjarnson summoned a ball of flame that smashed its way back and forth between both oozes, and Dejen launched more psychic attacks. The two dark blobs finally stopped moving and melted into a thin, putrid layer of sludge that slowly spread out to cover the floor of the room, no longer moving.
"Is everyone all right?" Pariah asked breathlessly, the toxic fumes irritating her eyes and nose.
"Not really," Zariel said. Although most of the sludge had slid off of her as it died, much of it still clung to her armor and skin. She was wiping it off with the inside of her cloak, but it was sticky. It reminded Pariah of something between demon ichor and that weird sticky grease they'd found all over things in Bitter Breath's fort.
"I've been better," Eberic groaned in response to Pariah's question. He was leaning against the wall, his face twisted in pain. He didn't have as much of the sludge on him as Zariel did, but his armor was damaged and his hands, face and neck all bore acid burns.
"Let's get out of here," Pariah said.
They exited the ritual chamber and went to the dining room to survey the damage. Lulu had stayed out of the battle, since she was not the warrior she used to be as a hollyphant. Bjarnson and Dejen were both fine. Pariah had taken some minor acid damage; her saber had taken the brunt of it, and the blade was discolored by corrosion.
Zariel and Eberic were both badly hurt. He was mostly burned on his exposed skin -- hands, wrists, face, neck -- but some of the corrosion had gotten in through the holes in his leathers. Zariel, on the other hand, had burns all over her body from when the ooze had squeezed through the chinks in her armor. The corrosion seemed to have stopped, though the foul, acrid stench persisted. Both of them had moderate damage to their armor, which they had removed during Bjarnson's inspections of their injuries.
"I think I can fix this," Dejen said, looking over Eberic's armor. He then glanced over at Zariel's and said, "This too," though his voice was less certain. The damage to her armor seemed more extensive.
"What about this?" Pariah asked, holding out her sword. She had wiped off the corrosion but hadn't sheathed it again for fear of contaminating the scabbard.
He took it from her and examined the blade. "The damage to the metal, probably. I imagine it will need to be sharpened again, though."
"I can do that," she said. "At least a decent enough job until we can get back to a smith who can do it right."
He said, "The spell isn't really suited for this kind of damage, so all of this should be looked over by a smith or leatherworker, but I should be able to do a good enough job to get us back to town. We are going back to town, right? I mean once we finish searching the place?"
"I imagine so," Pariah said and looked to the others, who nodded in agreement. She continued, "If nothing else, Zariel and Eberic are going to need some downtime."
"And we have a lot of artifacts and documents to pore through," Dejen said in excitement.
Pariah, knowing what it was like to have an audience when someone was examining the scars on your body, said to him, "Dejen, let's go explore that other room again while Bjarnson looks them over."
"Oh, good," he said. "I wanted to look through the wizard's things myself in case anything was missed."
Lulu came with them as they explored the wizard's bedroom, but they didn't find anything among the debris. Pariah was ready to give up, but then she noticed Dejen was squatted down, staring at the bed intently.
"Find something?" she asked.
"No," he said distantly. "I mean not really. It's just that the bed angle is wrong."
Pariah knew that noticing something seemed out of place was often a good way to spot hidden panels, so she squatted down next to him.
"There," he said pointing to a gap between the frame of the upside-down bed and the floor. "Why isn't it resting on the floor? The poor man's skeleton is over there," he pointed to another corner, "so it's not that." He shook he head and said, "Maybe the wood is warped. I don't know, it's probably nothing."
Once he'd pointed it out, it was obvious. She lay down with her face on the floor the peer underneath but there was nothing there. She reached out to feel in the gap, suddenly afraid the bed was about to smash down and crush her fingers. Maybe it was that anxiety that made her jump and yelp when her fingers hit something hard.
"Are you all right?" Dejen asked in alarm.
"Yeah," she said. "There's something here." She prodded it with her fingers and could feel a smooth wooden surface in the empty gap. "I guess it's invisible. Can you lift the bed a little?"
He crawled over next to her, put his fingers under the frame and lifted. He wasn't able to shift the bed much, but it was enough. Pariah pulled out the invisible box.
She sat up and put it on the floor, feeling around for a catch. Dejen poked the invisible box with a finger a couple of times. "Wonderful," he grinned.
She found the catch but it wouldn't move. "Locked," she said. She pulled out her burglar tools and found it a little tricky to get the picks into the invisible lock. Once they were in, though, the task was all a matter of feel anyhow.
It was a complex lock but she just took her time working on tumbler after tumbler. They had nothing else to do at the moment anyhow, and she suspected a locked and invisible box would hold the finest treasures. She could feel Dejen growing impatient, but sometimes these things took a while. And if she couldn't get the lock open, the box was made of wood. She had an axe that would chop it open, though it might damage what was inside.
"Ha!" she said as the lock finally clicked open. She opened the lid saying, "See, sometimes you just have to-"
There was a bright flash and a burst of heat. She yelled and leapt back, shoving the box away and sending it sliding across the floor to bump up against the bed frame.
Her heart hammered in her chest, but she was fine. The trap hadn't been directed at her; it had been directed at the contents of the box. The invisibility spell had been broken, revealing a box made of wood with alternating white and dark bands. Inside a book was nestled in a lining of black felt, or at least it had been. Now it was nothing more than a scorched cover and ashen pages. The sharp smell of burnt paper reached her nostrils.
"Everything all right?" Bjarnson called out from the other room.
"Fine," she yelled back, her voice shaking just a bit. "No casualties except a book." She took a calming breath and blew it out. "What was that for?" she asked Dejen.
She had meant the question rhetorically, but he answered, "Probably a book of spells, and a trap to be sure it couldn't be stolen. Possibly keyed to the wizard himself so he was the only one who could open it safely." He sighed heavily. "That's tragic. An intact Netherese spell book would have been an invaluable reference."
Pariah's heart had slowed, though it was still beating a little fast. "I think that's enough excitement for one day," she said. "Let's see how the others are doing and start packing our stuff for the trip home."
Notes:
The crystal is a thermal cube, an common magic item that keeps the air within 15 feet at 95 F (35 C).
The two spells cast on Dejen were resistance and sanctuary. Those aren't necessarily useful, but they were the only protection spells available and it seemed like a good idea to give him something.
The ritual's effects are random, though I chose what was most interesting to the story rather than rolling. I originally had planned to have him succeed, which wouldn't be the last we see of him, but I decided that created too many plot complications. "Turn into a black pudding" was one of the possibilities, and that seemed like the most fun.
Some technical details for those who are interested. When black puddings are hit with slashing damage (Pariah, Zariel), they take no damage but split into two smaller puddings. Pariah has the Horizon Walker bonus action ability Planar Warrior, which adds damage and turns all her melee damage into force damage so she wouldn't trigger that. However, when the black pudding ran away (due to Dejen's Dissonant Whispers spell -- they have REALLY bad WIS), that provoked an attack of opportunity, and Planar Warrior only lasts for your turn. That means she did slashing damage and the pudding split. Then on her turn again, she was back to Planar Warrior force damage.
Meanwhile, I had been worried about Zariel's slashing damage, but I didn't want to metagame having her know that. Then realized that, as a worshiper of Lathander, she'd be focused on the undead bodyguard so would ignore the pudding at first.
I also didn't metagame knowing that black puddings are immune to cold, so Pariah using her last frost fingers bead was a bit of a waste, though it did hurt Krintaas.
I decided the Dejen's mending spell can repair the acid damage to armor and weapons, even though it's not a tear or break. It will require several castings to repair each point of damage. I did that mostly because I don't want to keep track of reduced AC and weapon damage until they get back to town, though they will have to pay for repairs eventually.
Chapter 89: Snowed In
Summary:
Having defeated Dzaan's simulacrum, the adventurers prepare to leave the Netherese tower and return to Ten-Towns.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 20, 1496 (4 days after the New Moon)
Pariah figured that an invisible box would be worth something, but the spell wouldn't reactivate even once the lid was closed and locked. The box itself was decent quality and might merit a coin or two to someone who was willing to replace the scorched interior and have a key made.
While Bjarnson tended to the injured, Pariah, Dejen and Lulu headed up to start gathering their finds and carry them to the entry room. By the time they were done, the others had joined them. Zariel and Eberic both looked better after the benefit of healing magic. They would need a few days of rest, but they were able to climb the rope back up to the top level.
A storm was still raging outside. Bjarnson climbed the rope up the icy tunnel to check on and feed the dogs, and reported they were weathering the blizzard just fine. He was now preparing dinner over the fire near the entrance while Zariel and Eberic rested, Pariah looked through the books and Dejen repaired their acid-damaged equipment. Between the warming stone and the fire, the room was a little too warm, but that was a relief after weeks of icy cold.
"I suppose I can transcribe these," Pariah said to Dejen uncertainly as she flipped through a disjointed treatise about the destruction of a Netherese city called Ventatost. "But I'm still kind of slow and my handwriting is pretty sloppy."
"You could always read them aloud and I could write them into my archive," he said in a distracted voice as he used his magical quill to draw arcane patterns on one of Zariel's gauntlets. "That might be faster."
Pariah closed the book to watch him work. Usually when he repaired damaged things, she could see the tears and breaks seal up as he passed the point of his pen over them. This time there was no obvious change to the spots of corrosion as he worked and yet after many, many passes, the blemishes were gone and the metal was repaired. He'd warned them that these repairs would be weak but they should hold for a couple of days.
She'd already used a whetstone and oil to sharpen the edge of her repaired sword. It wasn't going to split hairs, but it would do well enough if they faced a fight. A swordsmith would be able to do a better job; unfortunately the nearest one was in Easthaven.
Pariah remembered the bottle of coffee she'd found. She retrieved it from her pack and opened it to take a sip. The coffee was still the perfect temperature -- hot but not too hot to drink -- and tasted fresh roasted and brewed. She took a healthy swig and smacked her lips. She shook the bottle back and forth and heard it slosh around. "Anyone want any of this?" she asked, holding out the container.
The others eyed the bottle suspiciously. Dejen said, "I think I'd like to try it." He fetched his cup and held it out to her. She started to pour.
Nothing happened.
She tilted the end of the bottle up higher but nothing came out. Frowning, she righted it and shook it. She could hear the coffee sloshing inside. "That's odd," she said. She took a swig and got a mouthful of hot, robust coffee. She tried pouring again, but nothing came out.
"I see," Dejen mumbled, "I see. Must be an enchantment of some kind. That's why the coffee is fresh." He held out a hand. "May I?"
She shrugged and handed over the bottle. He took a tentative sip and then he smiled brightly. "Wonderful!" he said, and then he took a larger swallow. "It must work only if you drink from it."
"I wonder how much it holds," she mused.
Dejen looked at the metal bottle as he handed it back. "Looks like about two good mugfuls."
"Maybe," she said as she examined it. "But I once had a jug not much larger than this that held gallons of water and beer and oil."
"All of them?" he asked, his eyebrows inching higher.
"All of them," she confirmed. "It had several spigots, one for each liquid."
Lulu added, "And you could pour from that one."
"That's true," Pariah laughed. She took another swig and then offered it back to him. They passed it back and forth until she went to take a drink and nothing came out.
"Oh," she said in disappointment, shaking the empty container and no longer hearing the slosh. "I guess I should have let the rest of you drink some. Sorry about that." She shrugged, screwed the cap back on and stowed it in her pack. Maybe she'd fill it with hot broth once supper was ready. If it had kept coffee warm and fresh for a few centuries, it should be able to keep soup hot for a few hours.
Dejen finished his repairs and then started to examine the equipment they'd recovered from the laboratories. Pariah gently tossed one of the books his way and it thumped onto the dirt next to him. "That one's in Espruar," she said. "All the others are written in Netherese."
"Loross," he corrected her as he picked up the book. She remembered he had said that was the language they had spoken. "Lost Scrolls of Sabreyl," he read from the book's front cover. "Oh, that sounds very exciting!"
She started reading a novel called "Here Lies the King", stopping when Bjarnson announced dinner was ready. The reindeer and potato stew was fatty and hot, very satisfying after the trying day they had had. There were nuts and dried berries for dessert.
When she was done she took a cup and the metal bottle over to the stewpot, figuring she'd see how well it kept the broth. She screwed off the top, dipped her cup into the stew, and poured it into the bottle.
"Ow!" she cried out, dropping the bottle as the hot stew spilled over her hand.
"Are you all right?" Lulu asked.
"I'm fine," she said grumpily. "I'm not sure what happened."
She frowned down at the bottle, lying on its side in the dirt next to the fire. She stood it up and carefully poured the broth into it, keeping her hand away. The stream of liquid spread out in a dome over the opening, spilling down the sides. Not a drop went into the bottle.
"What the hell?" she asked nobody. She poked a finger into the hole and nothing blocked her, but she felt steam against her skin. She picked up the bottle and raised it to her nose, smelling fresh coffee. She tentatively took a sip and, sure enough, was rewarded with hot, fresh coffee.
"Huh," she said in wonder. "I guess it fills back up. That'll be nice to have around."
She offered the bottle to the others. This time Bjarnson tried it. Eberic did as well, though he was a bit more hesitant. Both men declared the coffee was quite good. Zariel shook her head.
"I want to try," Lulu said.
"I don't know," Pariah replied hesitantly. "I can't pour it into something smaller. I'd be afraid it would spill all over you."
"But it can't pour out, right?" Lulu reminded her.
"That's true, I guess." Pariah looked at the bottle suspiciously. "Be careful, it's hot."
She helped Lulu hold the bottle. Trying to sip from the edge, the asteri's mouth apparently didn't pass the boundary of the coffee's flow. She finally stuck her whole head into the opening, making Pariah a little nervous as she tried to hold the bottle at just the angle to bring the liquid to the top. Lulu sputtered and Pariah quickly righted the container.
The angel laughed brightly, coughing. "That was good, but I don't think I'm going to do that again."
Pariah laughed as well, glad that she seemed to be unharmed.
The storm continued to rage outside. Zariel asked, "Do we want to head back to town? It doesn't seem like this storm is going to end soon."
Bjarnson looked up the dark, icy tunnel opening. "I wouldn't recommend it. It's not long after the new moon so it's going to be dark, and between that and the blizzard and lack of any markers, we are likely to go in circles. I think we should just stay here. We have cover, that warming stone, and nothing left living in here so we should be safe."
"Technically," Pariah pointed out, "there wasn't anything living here before."
He grinned. "I suppose that's true." His smile faded, and he added somberly, "That looked like a terrible way to go."
"Yeah," she agreed. Even if Dzaan had been the awful person they suspected he was, that seemed as bad as burning at the stake. She frowned as a horrible thought occurred to her. "But he is dead now, right? That blob of sludge isn't going to reform and come up the stairs."
They all turned to look out the door and down the hall to the upside-down stairway.
"I'll go look," Lulu said without much enthusiasm.
"That seems dangerous," Zariel cautioned.
"I'll be fine," Lulu replied. "I'll stay back and come up here if I see any pudding on the walls. And I'll be invisible."
"Well, I suppose that's true," Zariel said reluctantly. "But let me look through your eyes." She settled back against the walls and closed her eyes. "All right, go ahead."
Lulu drew her imaginary cloak around her and faded from sight before flying off. Zariel's face grew more concerned, and she unconsciously leaned forward as she looked through Lulu's senses. "She's at the spiral stairs...flying down...on the bottom level. She's...slow down, Lulu...nearing the room and...it looks the same. The body of the undead creature is there, and the floor is still covered in black liquid. No, Lulu, don't touch it. Just leave it and come back up."
Pariah said to Bjarnson, "So the dogs will be all right in this weather?"
"They'll be fine," he assured her. "They'll burrow into the snow and be safe and warm. Plus they can warn us if anything approaches."
After Lulu rejoined them, Zariel came out of her trance and said to the group, "So we will sleep here tonight?"
"That seems best," Bjarnson said. "We can leave in the morning."
Pariah, remembering the value of demon ichor in Avernus, asked Dejen, "Do you think that black ooze would be valuable? Or any part of that bodyguard?"
Zariel interjected, "We will not be harvesting parts from that undead abomination. In fact, I was going to suggest that we burn the body before we leave."
"OK," Pariah said. She hadn't felt that strongly about the idea, and realized she should have known Zariel would object to the practice. Turning back to Dejen she said, "But what about the ooze?"
He made a thoughtful noise. "I suppose that if it retains its corrosive nature it could be an effective acid, but I'm not sure I have any containers that would hold it."
Lulu said, "It's already eaten into the floor and half-dissolved the body."
"That quickly?" Dejen said in surprise. "In that case, I'd say no. An acid that strong would require a specially enchanted vial, and it would have already broken down. Substances that destructive need to be harvested immediately." He pulled out his quill to write himself a note while mumbling, "I really should be carrying such things just in case we find other interesting creatures. Hmm, and maybe cages or boxes for live specimens, and..." He trailed off as he continued to scribble in the air.
After some more discussion, Zariel, Pariah and Bjarnson headed back down to the lower level to dispose of the undead guard's body. The air was thick with the acrid stench of the black ooze, which had eaten about a finger's width into the stone floor of the ritual chamber. The undead body was visibly corroded as well.
"We could just leave it," Pariah said. "Let the acid do the work."
"No," Zariel insisted. "We have to burn it."
They fetched the mattress from the wizard's bedroom and were able to clumsily push it through the door where it provided a safe passage over the corrosive black sludge. Zariel vaulted the wall and hurried across the mattress to pour the whale oil they kept for lamps over it. She stopped to say a silent prayer and then came back.
Once she was out of the room, Bjarnson called fire into his palm and flung it. The oil caught quickly and soon the entire corpse was aflame. Zariel reached out to enchant the flames to burn hotter. Oily black smoke filled the room and spilled out into the hall, forcing them back as the smoke burned their eyes, and the putrid stench threatened to make them sick. At Zariel's insistence they stayed in the dining room to wait out the fire. Most of the smoke headed for the natural chimney of the spiral stairway so the air wasn't so bad in here.
After a while, they investigated and the still smoldering body had been reduced to bones. Zariel frowned, obviously unsatisfied, but it was the best they were going to be able to manage without access to a crematorium or a forge.
They returned to the others. The smoke was thinner, but the stench hung faintly in the air. Lulu had stayed behind so had been able to tell the others what had happened downstairs.
They settled in for the evening. Pariah went back to her novel. The main character was a master of illusion who murdered a prince and then used his magic to change his appearance and take the prince's place.
After a while she put down the book to take a break. Bjarnson was telling Lulu about goat ball, a game played by the Thuunlakalaga goliaths in the Spine of the World. Zariel was inspecting and cleaning her armor and weapons. Eberic was already asleep. Dejen was poring over a platinum-framed wooden disc about a handspan across. She remembered that had come from the simulacrum's room. She had assumed it was just a decorative object, but Dejen's interest made her wonder if it was something more.
She stood up to stretch and then walked over and sat down next to Dejen. The wood was dark brown and had a glossy sheen. A complex design had been carved into its surface, and the platinum ring was bare except for a single triangle. "What's that?" she asked him.
"I'm not sure," he said, not looking up. "It seems to be some kind of compass but it doesn't point north."
"A compass?" she asked.
"Um-hm," he said. Carefully holding it by his fingertips on the wood, so he wasn't touching the rim, he rotated the wooden disk. The outer ring stayed in place. He then moved the metal ring, but as soon as he let it go it spun back, bobbling back and forth a few times before settling into the same position.
She pointed to the triangle and said, "And you think this is the pointer?"
"I would assume so."
She looked at the wall in the direction it was pointing. "What direction is that?" she asked.
"Bjarnson says it's northeast." He looked up towards that same wall and mused, "A large deposit of iron can deflect a compass needle but it would have to be enormous."
"Maybe it doesn't work like a normal compass," she said. "Maybe it's magic like your timepiece, and something magical is interfering. Maybe even this building."
He looked at her, stunned. "That's a very good point. I can't believe I didn't think about that." He looked down at the device again and said, "And maybe it's not a compass; maybe it's a detector. Maybe it's pointing at something important." His tone became more excited. "We must investigate!"
"I don't know," Bjarnson said. "Caer-Konig is to the west." He pointed towards a point a few feet left of the tunnel that led out. "We'd be going almost exactly in the wrong direction. Zariel and Eberic need rest."
"But it must lead to some Netherese technology. We have to go look for it!" he insisted.
Pariah grunted. "Netherese technology keeps trying to kill us," she reminded him. "I'm not that excited to find more."
"Oh, that's just been our own ignorance," he said with a dismissive wave. "The technology is perfectly safe in the right hands, and we learn more each time we encounter relics."
"Do we?" she laughed. "Because the only thing I'm learning is I don't like it."
Zariel had stopped her armor maintenance and was listening to the conversation. She said slowly. "I can't help but remember that we were directed here by Lathander. I would rather follow his guidance."
"Actually," Pariah said drily, "it was Levistus's seer who guided us here. That nonsense about me having to die to win, or whatever she said."
Dejen furrowed his brow and recited, "This path leads to your end, and yet follow it you will, follow it you must. From death will come your life, your victory, his victory."
"Yeah, his victory," she said sourly. "Levistus's. And, fine, my death led to Macreadus pointing us in this direction, but at best that means we are traveling the path laid out by a devil."
Zariel scowled and said, "Perhaps, but Lathander led Macreadus here, and my divinations did as well. Perhaps their goals coincide in this case. I don't see that we've found anything to restore Lathander's blessing to this land, but maybe we were sent to find this," she pointed at the disc, "and it will lead us to the solution."
Pariah couldn't help but make a disgusted noise. "I'm tired of dancing to their tunes. You and Eberic are hurt and need a rest. We can chase rumors and prophecies later."
"But we must go now," Dejen insisted. "It might be gone if we wait."
"This place has been here for centuries, and yet we still found plenty of things to study," she reminded him. "Besides, if that thing points to whatever, then we can find it even if it's been taken."
"That's true," he admitted reluctantly. "But I still think we should go now." He glanced towards the tunnel, which still whistled with the raging wind outside. "Well, tomorrow."
Pariah grimaced. She asked Bjarnson, "What do you think?"
He leaned back to rest on his hands. "Even if that does point to something, we have no idea how far away it is, especially if that's magic. It could be on the other side of the world for all we know."
She nodded. "Lulu?"
"I agree with Zariel," she said. "It seems like this is something we should investigate."
"There!" Dejen said triumphantly. "Three to two. And you know Eberic won't want to rest. I'm sure he'll want to investigate."
Zariel asked, "Should we wake him and ask his opinion?"
"No," Pariah sighed in resignation. "We can talk about it more in the morning."
"Agreed," Bjarnson said. "And we can also see what the weather is like. That may affect our decision."
"True," she said. "Let's sleep on it. Maybe Zariel will dream about Lathander screaming, 'Noooooo!' and we'll have our answer."
Zariel looked offended, but Dejen and Bjarnson chuckled.
"Well," she said, "I guess I'm going back to my book."
Notes:
The blizzard was a random roll rather than a narrative device. It is pretty dangerous to travel in a blizzard due to the significant chance of getting lost, so it seemed smarter for them to spend the night in the tower.
Chapter 90: Entombed
Summary:
The group has been forced to spend the night in the tower because of the storm raging above, but are ready to leave now that a new day has dawned.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
Over breakfast, they revisited the topic of whether or not to follow the compass Dejen had discovered. Zariel, Dejen and Lulu wanted to do so. Dejen had been right about Eberic; he kept insisting he was fine and didn't need to rest, so agreed with them. Pariah suspected that was his pride rather than his interest in finding whatever the disc pointed to. To be fair, Bjarnson said the dwarf's chest injury did seem better, though he still had some healing to do from both that and his acid burns.
Pariah was opposed, though she knew that was mostly because immortals were pointing in that direction and she was feeling rebellious. Bjarnson didn't have strong feelings either way but repeated that they had no idea how far it was.
However, Dejen had an answer for that. After they fed and harnessed the dogs, he suggested they ride in the wrong direction for a half hour. He explained by traveling perpendicular to the indicated path and then seeing how much the indicator diverged, he could make an estimate of how far away it was. Pariah had no idea what he was talking about, but Bjarnson nodded sagely and agreed.
So they drove the sleds east rather than northeast. The wind was low, as though the environment had exhausted itself. The blizzard the night before hadn't let up until almost midnight, but the weather had been calm since. Even in the dark morning they could see the mass of the Reghed Glacier dominating the eastern horizon, and the shadowy mound of Kelvin's Cairn to the west.
Dejen tracked their travel time on his pocket clock, calling for them to stop after a half hour. He pulled out his quill and scribbled in the air while mumbling about angels and signs and paradox and other gibberish that made no sense to Pariah. It sounded like some kind of divination spell.
When he was done he announced that their destination was ten to fifteen miles away.
Bjarnson looked up at the dark sky. The stars were bright, with only a few clouds obscuring them. He then looked around the terrain thoughtfully before saying, "Weather's good. Travel should be fast -- two, three hours at a trot. Then maybe five back." He scratched his bushy, red beard and said, "Seems doable in one day."
All eyes turned on Pariah, since she was the only one still against the idea. "Fine," she said petulantly. "Let's go see what kind of disaster the gods and devils are guiding us into."
They resumed their travel, this time in the direction indicated by the disc. They moved at a decent speed across the snow, about the same as a human's jogging pace. Pariah piloted the lead sled, with Dejen behind her occasionally calling out small navigation corrections, and Eberic behind him. Bjarnson and Zariel followed, their sled a bit to the side rather than directly behind in order to avoid the spray of snow.
The miles passed uneventfully, which was a blessing. The wind started to pick up about an hour into the journey and the blowing snow obscured the obvious landmark of Kelvin's Cairn, but they were following Dejen's device so there was no way to get lost. The featureless white landscape made it hard to stay focused, and the dogs kept running without her intervention, so her mind wandered a lot. She had to keep forcing it back to the task at hand, reminding herself of the frost druid ambush a few days ago. Many things lurked in the snow here.
A lone rocky butte poked up out of the landscape ahead, its crown scrubbed free of snow by the rising wind. She pulled the reins and the dog team gently turned to the right to go around the hill. As they started to move past it, Dejen suddenly started slapping her excitedly on the arm. "This is it! We're here!"
She saw he was pointing at the hill while staring down at the disc with a mad grin. She called the dogs to a halt and looked over the mound ahead. "Is it another tower?" she asked, wondering if every hill in Icewind Dale had a Netherese spire buried beneath it.
"I don't know," Dejen replied, "but this is it!"
Bjarnson pulled up next to her. "What's going on?" he asked.
"He says that's it," she explained.
There was nothing special about the mound, such as a suspiciously smooth outcropping of stone. It looked like a thousand other rocky hills. Bjarnson said, "Let's take a trip around it first. See what we can see."
That made sense, so she got the dogs moving and took a wide circle around the hill with the other sled trailing. After a full orbit she stopped and Bjarnson again pulled next to her. She said, "I think it looks like a hill."
He chuckled and said, "I might have seen a cave. Let's go back a little."
They turned the sleds and took the route back around. He stopped and pointed. "See there? Right were the snow meets the slope. There's a little hollow. Might be nothing but it might be the top of a cave entrance beneath the snow."
"Good eye," she said. She could see it now, though she'd never have spotted it on her own. They pulled the sleds closer and they all got their snowshoes on before padding across the deep snow to investigate.
The digging, at least the initial digging, turned out to be easy. Bjarnson just waved his hand and the snow pushed away from the opening into a pile.
"That's a nice trick," Pariah observed.
"I've been working on it for a while," he said as he continued to move the snow. "I've seen spellcasters do something similar with loose earth but, since bare earth is rare around here anymore, I wanted to find a way to use it for snow. But soil contains life in a way that snow doesn't and that somehow powers the spell so it was challenging. In addition, there are more complex magics that are used to shape ice. I used the principals of both to create something new."
"Wow," Pariah said, more impressed than before. "I've kind of dabbled with trying to find new ways to shape my magic, but never to this extent."
"Me, either," he said. "It's certainly easier to tread the paths created by others. This ritual took me months to create." He grunted in annoyance as he stopped gesturing. "And that's the other problem: it works only on powdery snow. Once you get down to the hard pack, it does nothing."
The trench he had dug was shallow, but enough to expose more of the cave opening. "Still saved us some work," Pariah said peering into the dark space. She could see a cave wall a few feet in but that was about it. "Though I guess we still have some digging to do. I know I'm small, but I don't think even I can squeeze through that."
"I can," Lulu said, and started to fly towards the opening.
"Lulu, wait," Eberic said. He pulled out a silver coin and held it up. "Make this glow."
She flew back, landed on his forearm and touched the coin. It lit up and he gently motioned his arm, causing her to take flight again, and then he tossed the coin into the opening. "There, now you can see."
Lulu flew into the hole and disappeared down below the level of the packed snow. "There's not much here," she called back. "It's just a small cave. Rocks and dirt. That's it."
"Maybe there's another opening," said Dejen. He pointed off to the side. "This detector is pointing in that direction. Let's look for more caves."
"Hold on," Bjarnson said as the other man started to walk off. "Lulu, is the cave big enough to take all of us."
"Yes," she called back out. "It's about twenty by twenty."
He said, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm cold. It won't take much effort to dig down into the snow. We can make camp and get warm before spending more time wandering around this hill."
"I think I'm going to look around while you do that," Dejen said.
"Wait!" Bjarnson said. "Let's not all wander off."
Pariah said, "I'll go with him. Lulu too since she can run back to you guys for help. It's not like all five of us can dig at the same time. We'll take a quick walk around the hill and see if we can find anything obvious." She added pointedly to Dejen, "If we find anything, we'll come back and tell the others first."
"Yes, of course," he said dismissively as he started to walk off. She sighed, not believing him, and then followed at the shuffling pace necessary when walking in snowshoes.
It had been a while since she'd had to walk like this and had forgotten how tiring it could be. It exercised muscles not normally used in walking, so she started to ache. However, the ground was flat and nothing burst out of the snow to bite them, so that was a bonus.
Dejen occasionally stopped to draw lines in the snow, pointing in the same direction as his indicator.
"What are you doing?" Pariah asked.
"Once we've made a full circuit, Lulu can fly up and see where all these lines converge. That will locate the target's exact position."
"Oh, that's really clever," she said. Certainly that made more sense than that angel paradox nonsense he'd been spouting before.
By the time they had made their way around the hill, the group had finished digging and were climbing into the small cave. Lulu flew up to get an overhead view of the lines. She darted back and forth a bit before finally hovering in a spot. "Here," she called down.
She was over the crest of the hill about a third of the way from one end of the ridge to the other, and not that far from the nearby cave. Dejen nodded thoughtfully and said, "Well, that narrows our search a bit."
They headed back to find the others had finished their digging and were inside the cave. Pariah fetched her coffee bottle from her pack before heading down to join them. There was about a two foot drop from the packed snow to the dirt floor, but it was an easy climb. Bjarnson had taken out the thermal stone and the cave was already quite warm.
"The snow's melting," she said as she stood at the entrance.
Small rivulets of water were running down the edge of the packed snow. Bjarnson frowned at it and said, "Lets move this stone a little deeper into the cave. There seems to be a sharp drop in temperature at the edge of its effect. We don't want our exit to melt away."
Pariah stayed where she was and said, "That did it," when the temperature plummeted. Bjarnson took the stone another couple of feet past that just to be safe. She went over to join them, and the change in temperature was jarring. She crossed an invisible threshold and suddenly the air was hot. She stopped and stuck an arm back. Her hand was ice cold but the rest of her was warm. She shook her head in wonder, and then sat down with everyone else.
"Coffee?" she asked as she opened the bottle.
They passed it around while Dejen told them what he had figured out, pointing towards a wall in the direction of the position Lulu had found.
Eberic frowned at the wall and then stood up to examine it, running his fingers across the surface.
"This is an old cave-in," he said. "Been here so long that you can barely tell. Dirt's filled the cracks, but you can feel the individual stones. And you can see the edges where the tunnel started."
Now that he mentioned it, what Pariah had taken as just a shallow alcove in the cave wall looked more like a very short, dead-end tunnel. She couldn’t see the shape of a cave-in in the wall, but she wasn't about to doubt a dwarf when it came to stonework.
"So we can dig it out!" Dejen exclaimed.
"Maybe," Eberic cautioned. "We don't know how secure the stone above it is. A cave-in means there's a hollow above it, and it might be fragile."
Pariah said, "Well, if it's been here since Netheril was an empire, that means it's several hundred years old. Doesn't that mean it's stable?"
"Maybe," the dwarf admitted. "But maybe it's loose stone all the way up to the surface, just waiting for someone to pull the keystone that sends the whole pile tumbling into this cave."
Bjarnson asked, "Are you saying we shouldn't dig?"
"No," Eberic said thoughtfully. "I don't have the right tools, but I think we can make do with ice picks and shovels and a lot of sweat."
"How long will it take?" Dejen asked.
Eberic knocked on the stone, listening carefully. "Depends on how deep the cave-in is."
"Well, then let's get started," Dejen said. He jumped up and headed towards the entrance. "What do we need from the sleds? Oh, never mind. I'll just send all the packs down."
And before anyone could object, he was already climbing up the snowy slope to the outside. Before long, their backpacks came sliding down the incline to thump to the floor of the cave.
They all pitched in under Eberic's instruction. He did his share of digging but was willing to rest while the others worked. He'd occasionally stop them to inspect the stonework and ensure it was safe.
The rock was loose and easy to dig out, so they made rapid progress. There was a hollow space over the top of the stones, which is where the cave in had fallen from. At one point, Eberic squatted by one wall of the tunnel they were digging out, and he grunted thoughtfully. "This part is natural," he said, waving to the lower part of the wall, "but this was dug out," he motioned upwards. "Looks like there was a low tunnel here that someone tried to expand, but this is clumsy work. No bracing, no eye for the structure of the rock. Definitely not dwarven work." He shook his head. "No wonder it collapsed."
"Is it recent?" Pariah asked.
"No," he said, standing. "Decades old, maybe centuries."
"So whoever dug this is long gone," she mused. They'd found no sign of habitation in the outer cave, but she was still nervous that something nasty lurked in here.
After about an hour they broke through into a chamber. The initial hole was a about the size of someone's head. Eberic again got Lulu to light up a coin and he tossed it in. He peered inside and then stepped back, frowning. "There's something in there, something metal like a suit of armor. And there are a lot of skeletons on the floor."
"Undead?" Zariel asked.
He shrugged. "That's more your area than mine."
"Lulu?" she said.
The asteri flew into the hole. After a moment she called out, "No, nothing undead, just lots of bones. Human like but with animal heads, like dogs."
"Gnolls?" Zariel asked.
"Yeah, maybe. And that's not armor. It's made of metal but it's a statue. Maybe a religious idol?"
"Something foul, I'd wager," Zariel said grimly.
"I guess, but it's not emanating any dark energy or anything," Lulu said as she back into the room.
Bjarnson said, "So a bunch of gnolls dug out a temple or something and then the entry tunnel collapsed on them? What does that have to do with the Netherese city?"
Dejen was holding the disc and sighting through the hole. "This is pointing right at that statue. It must be something Netherese. Let's get in there!"
He shoved the disc into his shirt and began aggressively pulling out stones.
"Whoa, lad," Eberic said. "Slow down. We don't want another cave in."
"Do you think this is safe?" Pariah asked, eyeing the ceiling.
"For the moment, I think so. I don't think it's going to collapse in the next few hours, anyhow. But this pile of stones can still shift so let's clear them carefully."
Dejen slowed down his efforts but only a little. As soon as the hole was big enough, he crawled through into the other chamber.
"Dejen, wait," Zariel called. "Let's finish clearing this first."
"I just want to see it," he called back.
Zariel frowned towards the tunnel. Pariah said, "I'll go with him. Make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble."
She climbed through the hole into the far chamber. The air grew freezing cold once she left the area of the warming stone. The cave inside was an uneven oval about fifty feet deep and thirty wide. On the floor were about a dozen humanoid skeletons with canine heads. They definitely looked like gnolls. Their crude armor and weapons probably hadn't been much to start with, and now were rotted and crumbling. Several were clustered around the cave in, probably trying to dig their way out. Others looked like they'd been locked in combat with each other.
She trusted Lulu's sense of the undead, but she still shifted her shield to her arm to make herself feel better.
At the far end of the cave was a metal statue a head taller than Pariah. It wasn't solid, but rather made up of a collection of yellow and white metal struts forming a framework. Pariah eyed the yellow metal but it didn't appear to be gold or any metal she was familiar with. In the middle of its otherwise featureless egg-shaped head was a single blue crystal that might be a sapphire. Scraps of hide clinging to the metal made her think it had once had a skin of sorts. It was facing into the room and there were animal bones and lumps of burned out candles arranged in front of it. The walls of the cave were bare rock and there was no furniture or other accessories.
Dejen was bent over, examining the statue through the lenses he'd gotten from Macreadus's cabin and scribbling in the air.
"Is that Netherese?" she asked.
"I believe so," he said. "Certainly this indicator points to it."
"So it brought us to a piece of Netherese art?" she said skeptically.
"Oh, no," he replied, looking over his shoulder to grin at her. "I believe this is a construct, a metal servant of some sort. The joints are articulated and the metal is etched with arcane symbols. These threads here I believe carry energy to its various parts, allowing it to move."
She kept her distance, but she now could see there were metal threads inside the framework of the thing. "But it's not moving now, right?"
"No," he said with disappointment. "It appears to be powered down, its energy source drained. I imagine it's not designed to keep operating for two thousand years."
"How did it get here?" she wondered.
"Well, I can't say for sure," he replied as he straightened up, "but I can make a guess. I think it was some kind of servant built by the wizard in the tower we came from. This is its control device," he tapped the amulet resting inside his shirt. "After the tower fell and its master died, it dug its way out, hence the tunnel we found at the tower. It then..." He furrowed his brow. "...came here. I don't know why. Maybe it was wandering at random without orders, or maybe it had a deliberate goal. I couldn't answer that without knowing how autonomous it was. Regardless, it ended up in this cave and its power died. Later, I guess the gnolls found it and decided it was some kind of divine gift, hence the offerings."
Pariah was disappointed. She had hoped for some kind of marvelous Netherese artifact, but all they got was an ugly statue. "So this was a wasted trip?" she sighed.
"Oh, not at all," he said with a manic energy. "We must take this with us. I'm sure there are all kinds of things I can learn about Netherese technology from taking it apart."
She frowned at it. "How heavy is it?" she asked. The sleds were already pretty well loaded.
"I'm sure it's not too bad," he said. He reached out to grab the statue's arm and rocked it back and forth. "Oh, it's actually quite light. I think I could move it by myself. Let me just get behind it to...well, will you look at this."
"What?" she asked, starting to get bored with the subject. She turned to see the others had made good progress on the opening and it was nearly clear.
"This circular hollow on the back. It seems to be just the same size as...let me just see if..."
She turned back to see him putting the disc flat into a niche on the back of the thing. "Uh, maybe you shouldn't be doing that," she said.
The disc clicked into place, and a low hum sounded. Blue light ran along the metal threads inside the statue. Its crystal eye glowed, and its head snapped to look in Pariah's direction. She opened her mouth to warn Dejen, and then it lunged forward as the fingers on its right hand fused together into a sharp point that stabbed at her.
Notes:
Dejen mumbling about "angels and signs and paradox" is actually "angles and sines and parallax", but Pariah doesn't have a mathematics education. One of the few times where the angel/angle thing isn't a typo, but a misunderstanding.
Those familiar with the module know that this doesn't sound like the place the amulet is supposed to lead. That's correct. It's supposed to be a shield guardian in a goblin fortress, but I don't really want to give them a shield guardian. Instead it leads them to something different.
Chapter 91: Ambush!
Summary:
In a hidden cave in the wilderness, yet another Netherese artifact tries to kill Pariah.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
Pariah instinctively brought her shield up and the point of the construct's weapon skittered across the surface, but it struck again with its left hand. As with its other hand, the fingers had merged into a sharp point. As the weapon stabbed at Pariah's shoulder, a brief flash of the twelve-pointed star of Amaunator appeared in the air, slowing but not stopping the thrust. Pariah was still drawing her sword so was unable to parry, and she grunted in pain as it stabbed her shoulder, not piercing the leather but causing a surge of pain from the injury she had received in Avernus.
"Ebekhakhsh," she said through teeth gritted against the pain. An icy sheen spread across her armor and a cold wind gathered around her as she fell into a defensive stance.
Eberic came around her left side to stab at the creature. His ice dagger plunged into the spaces between the metal struts of its framework, causing blue energy to spark. Zariel came up on her right, launching a powerful slash that the mechanical thing beat aside.
Dejen, standing behind it with panic in his eyes, staggered backwards to get away. The construct didn't even look as its right arm stabbed backwards at him, though Dejen managed to dodge the blow just barely. He pointed his quill and whispered words that coalesced into energy in the air around the creature, but it swatted the motes away. It also deftly avoided a streak of flame that came from behind Pariah; she guessed that had come from Bjarnson.
The construct continued to focus on her, which gave Eberic a chance to look for an opening and stab again, eliciting another shower of sparks. Zariel attacked as well, but her blows were slow and powerful rather than fast and precise, and the construct deflected her blade easily. It nimbly avoided the vines that erupted from the dirt floor beneath it, and the plants fell limply back to the ground.
Pariah kept her shield up to block the flurry of blows directed at her, hoping for an opening, or at least hoping that the others could damage it while she took its attention. Her shoulder throbbed and, though the pain was subsiding, she was afraid it would slow her strikes so she waited for the perfect opportunity. Meanwhile, she drew the cold into her blade, ready to be released in a burst if she did strike a hit. Its right arm weapon came in under her shield and creased the leather across her hip, which didn't hurt her but caused the rime on her armor to crawl up its blade and spread through its body.
The creature struck repeatedly with inhuman speed. It was like fighting two or three people at once, and she was barely able to keep blocking and parrying the weapons that stabbed at her. Then, as though it had been holding back, it suddenly launched a blurring volley of thrusts. One right-hand blow slipped below her shield to pierce the leather in her leg, though it didn't penetrate deeply. At the same time, she missed the parry of its left-hand thrust, which stabbed into her triceps right below the edge of her pauldron. Zariel slammed her shield down on the construct's arm, ripping the weapon out of the wound. Pariah cried out in pain, but as the thing's arm was knocked away she saw her opening. She struck, slashing sideways between two metal plates aiming for a point where the fibers converged in a cluster. Her blade stuck in the narrow opening, but she focused her energy and the cold that suffused the blade burst from the edge of the sword into the thing's body, slicing through the cluster of threads and tearing them apart.
Blue energy coruscated across its surface and its movements became jerky rather than graceful. Pariah stepped back as it shuddered and the metal groaned. It drew back its weapon for another strike, and then froze as the energy faded and the gem on its face grew dark. It collapsed, folding in on itself to form a tangle of white and yellow metal struts.
Pariah stared down angrily at the pile of junk on the floor as pain throbbed in her shoulder. She yelled at it, "Why does Netherese technology keep trying to kill me!"
"I'm sorry," Dejen said sheepishly. "I didn't realize it was some kind of combat machine."
Pariah sheathed her sword, though she was still watching the construct. "It's fine," she grumbled, "but take that thing out of it." She waved towards the disc that had activated it.
As he hurried forward to do that, Bjarnson came up to her. "Come back to the entrance and let me look at you," he said.
The two of them climbed through the hole back into the entrance cave. She removed her pauldrons and bracers and rolled up her sleeve so he could examine and clean her arm. "It's not so bad," he said. "Let's draw on your natural healing energies." He put a hand gently over her injury and she felt a gentle but not unpleasant tingling in the wound. "There. Zariel might top that off with a little divine blessing. You'll still need some rest."
"Of course," she laughed. "We always seem to. I think we spend more time recovering from our injuries than anything else."
By the time she donned her armor again, Eberic had climbed through the hole, scowling. It seemed to be deeper than his usual scowl. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
He just pursed his lips, gave her a sigh of resignation, and then looked towards the hole. Dejen was climbing through, though he was having a little trouble because he was carrying a sort of box of white and yellow. As she looked at it more closely and saw the metal struts, she stepped back and drew her sword. "What in the hells is that?" she demanded.
"Isn't it wonderful?" he beamed at her. "It folds up into such a small package. And it barely weighs anything! I'm not sure what kind of metal it is, but it's strong and light and so versatile."
Confused, Bjarnson said, "Is that the guardian?"
"Yes," Dejen said cheerfully, holding the package towards him. Bjarnson reflexively moved his staff in front of him, as though to shield himself.
"No!" Pariah said. "We are not taking that thing with us. It tried to kill me!"
"Oh, it's fine now," he said dismissively. "It's powered down as you see. Harmless. But I must investigate this, discover what magic powered it, and find out how we could possibly use this metal. I wonder if the smith in Easthaven could do something with it."
"This has nothing to do with ending the Everlasting Rime," she insisted. "That's the whole reason we were investigating that tower. Fine, we have a bunch of books and a few Netherese objects that haven't tried to kill me yet. But we aren't taking that thing!"
Zariel and Lulu had joined the group. The former said, "We have already had this conversation with him. He is quite insistent on taking this artifact with us."
"Oh, you are all being ridiculous," he said as he knelt down by his pack and started moving things around inside it to make room for his new possession. The metal struts that had made up the guardian had collapsed into a box about two feet wide and half that thick and deep. Dejen was trying to find a way to put it in his backpack, even though it obviously wasn't going to fit.
Pariah groaned, but she didn't have the energy to fight with him. "But it's broken, right?"
"Right," he said distractedly.
"And you aren't going to try to fix it, right?"
"No, of course not." And then he looked up to stare off thoughtfully. "Although..."
"No!" she said again. "You swear you aren't going to try to fix it, or we aren't going to leave it here."
"I don't think that's-" he began.
"Swear!" she demanded. "By whatever oath you Harpers hold dear, you swear by it!"
Dejen turned to her, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock, and then his gaze darted over the others. Pariah was confused by his reaction, and then was horrified as she realized what she had just said. She hoped that none of them knew what that meant.
"You're a Harper?" said Eberic. "I thought they were a myth."
"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed quietly to herself.
Dejen stammered, "Well, no. I mean I'm...I...we are..." He trailed off into a wordless jumble.
"I'm sorry," she said to him. "I didn't mean to blurt that out. But, to be fair, it was going to come out anyhow with how much time we spend together. I mean I think they've earned your trust, but it wasn't my secret to share."
Dejen sat heavily on the ground. "It's not about trust," he said. "It's about secrecy and protecting others. It's about..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He looked up at the rest of them. "I'm sorry, my friends. I wasn't trying to fool you. Nothing I've done was an attempt to work against you or your goals. But we have to exist in the shadows. We aren't suppose to reveal our identities except in the most dire of circumstances. You didn't need to know about my allegiance."
"What's a Harper?" Bjarnson asked, confused.
Dejen replied in a rote tone, "We seek to foster peace and freedom among the peoples of Faerûn. We oppose evil and oppressive forces and try to retain the balance among all things."
Bjarnson looked towards Pariah, who said, "Yeah, that's roughly what I've heard about them."
"But?" he prompted.
Pariah shrugged. "Some people think they are heroes. Some people think they need to mind their own business."
"Well," Dejen interjected, "that's not completely fair. We encourage independence among our members, so they can find their own ways to respond to a situation." Reluctantly he added, "Unfortunately, some of our agents are unsubtle and undiplomatic, which can lead to problems. But I assure you, I want only the same thing all of you do."
"And what is that?" Bjarnson asked.
"To stop the Everlasting Rime," he said emphatically. "Auril's actions are upsetting the balance of natural forces, not to mention creating great hardship on the people of Icewind Dale. I said I was here to study the Rime out of academic curiosity, and that is true as far as it goes. However, I was actually sent by the Harpers to investigate and hopefully resolve the situation."
Bjarnson asked Pariah, "And you knew about this?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "I followed him when he snuck out one night to meet with a contact. Lulu was with me and we told Zariel later. He swore us to secrecy, and I agreed because it seemed harmless."
"I suppose that's true," he said. "I guess as long as you aren't working against us, it doesn't matter."
He looked at Eberic, who shrugged and said, "I don't really care either way."
Not wanting to get distracted from her original point, Pariah said to Dejen, "So swear some Harper oath or something that you won't bring that thing back to life."
He stammered, and she could just hear the excuses already so she said sharply, "Swear or we leave it here!"
He looked defeated and said unhappily, "Very well. I promise I won't reactivate the construct. But I do want to study it because there could be important knowledge there."
"Fine," she said. She'd still rather leave it, but it wasn't worth fighting about. "So are we done here? I don't care about putting the gnoll bones to rest or anything. Bjarnson, how long to get back to Caer-Konig?"
He looked towards the cave opening, where the wind was blowing hard but hadn't graduated into a full blizzard yet. "Four or five hours in good weather. Maybe as long as six if the weather keeps up like this."
It was still early. The dim light coming down the tunnel told her it was after ten in the morning, though probably not too long after. She was tired and hurting, but she also wanted to sleep in a real bed that night. "What do you think? Should we head back now or stay here and head back in the morning?"
"It'll be a hard run to try to make it today, but I'm up for it if everyone else is. The dogs should handle it fine, though they'll need a day of rest after this." He smirked. "We all will."
Zariel said, "What about returning to the spire and sleeping there, then continuing to Caer-Konig in the morning. That seems like the best option considering our number of injured."
Bjarnson said, "Normally I'd agree, but with the wind up like this navigation is going to be tricky. Finding a single hill, even a large hill, when the snow is blowing like this is going to be hard. Even once we get to the area, it could take hours to find the tower itself. Getting back to town is easier: head west until we get to the river, follow that to Lac Dinneshere, and around the lake to Caer-Konig."
"So that's your suggestion?" she asked.
He again looked towards the cave opening thoughtfully. "Either spend the night here or head straight back to town." He turned back to the group, "Anyone prefer to stay here for the night?"
Nobody did. Certainly the room full of bones on the other side of the crudely dug hole in the wall didn't make the place welcoming. "Well, then I guess we head back," he said.
They ate before they left. Since they all wanted to get moving, they didn't bother building a fire, instead filling up on blubber and cold meat. Pariah's coffee was gone and hadn't refilled yet, which was too bad, but they warmed themselves around the thermal stone before packing everything up.
They pushed the backpacks up the slope and climbed out of the cave. The wind had picked up while they had been down there and snow blew into Pariah's face as she helped Bjarnson hook the dogs up while the other strapped down their belongings. The swirling snow was so thick they couldn't see Kelvin's Cairn most of the time, so navigation would be hard. Pariah trusted that the two locals, Bjarnson and Eberic, had experience finding their way through weather like this.
They headed off towards their last sighting of Kelvin's Cairn and within moments they were swallowed into the blowing snow. Whiteness surrounded them, cutting visibility to only a couple dozen feet. It was confusing and oppressive, but all they had to do was move in a straight line. Even if they drifted to the left or right, they should be fine as long as they didn't completely get turned around. They were headed for a river; it would be hard to miss.
Pariah was reminded of their first expedition out into the snow when they had been recovering the iron stolen by goblin raiders, though that experience had been much worse. That time she had felt isolated, barely able to see people a few feet away. Now, although they moved through an empty, white world, she had the solidity of a sled beneath her feet, Bjarnson and Dejen nearby, Lulu snuggled inside her fur cloak, and the team of dogs joyfully running ahead.
Despite that, she started to feel anxious as time passed. The land around them barely changed. At least on the roads, even the trails that barely qualified as roads, the tripods of logs that marked the path let them know they were making progress. On this trip, they might be running in circles for all she could see.
She knew that was nonsense but she couldn't chase away the intrusive thoughts.
"Are you all right?" came Lulu's voice in her head.
Pariah looked down to see the little angel peering out of her cloak, a concerned look on her face.
"I'm fine," Pariah thought back. "Why?"
"Because I can feel your heart pounding."
Pariah laughed self consciously. "I'm fine," she repeated. She gestured generally around them. "It's just that all this is pretty crazy. I feel like I'm floating in nothing."
Lulu nodded sagely. "It's like being in the Astral Plane," she said, as though that explained everything.
Pariah didn't know much about the Astral Plane except that it was a sort of sea of nothingness between the other planes. She looked around her and said, "If this is what the Astral Plane is like, then I don't want to go there."
She tried to relax, though her anxiety kept returning. The lack of progress markers continued to frustrate her. Surely they should have reached the river by now. She turned her head and asked Dejen, who was standing behind her, "Do you know how long it's been since we left?" She had to shout to be heard above the wind.
He reached into his cloak and pulled out his timepiece. "About half an hour," he said.
"That's all?" she replied in surprise. "Feels longer."
"It does, doesn't it?" he replied as he put his clock away. "Strange how subjective time can be, an inherently objective phenomenon."
She wasn't sure what that last sentence was supposed to mean so she just nodded and smiled. Then, realizing the roaring wind gave them a little privacy, she leaned back to get closer to him and said, "Sorry about what happened back there. I didn't mean to tell them that."
He pursed his lips and said, "I know. And you're right; it probably would have come out anyhow. That's why many Harpers choose to work alone, or at least not stay with groups as long as I have."
"Is it going to be a problem?"
"I shouldn't think so," he assured her. "While secrecy has its benefits, it's not like we as a group are being particularly mysterious about our goals. I'm not trying to overthrow the speaker of Bryn Shander or anything like that."
She fixed him with a piercing look and said, "Or at least that's what you want me to believe."
He laughed and said, "Blast, you've seen through my secret plan. I may have to kill you now."
"Understandable," she replied with mock gravity.
He said, "However, and I should pass this on to the rest of the group, I would still prefer we not tell anyone else about my association. Some people find Harpers to be..." He searched for a word.
"Meddling busybodies?" she said sweetly.
He grinned. "Well, yes. That is our reputation."
"Good," she replied emphatically. "More people should meddle rather than standing by and letting things happen. Like you said, it's not like we are taking down the government. We are just trying to stop the Rime, and anyone who opposes that, well, fuck 'em."
"Indeed," he said dryly.
Notes:
The construct was based on a nimblewright but dynamically upgraded as I realized the combat was too easy. I bumped it from CR 4 to CR 5 (+1 AC, +15 HP, +1 proficiency, one more dagger attack per turn), and had it always attack with advantage. The bit in the first paragraph about the attack being partially blocked was Zariel using her guardian emblem to negate a critical hit. Pariah finished the battle with her own critical hit.
I hadn't intended for Pariah to reveal Dejen's secret. She just sort of blurted it out, surprising even me.
Chapter 92: Exhausted and Freezing
Summary:
After their trip to the Netherese tower, the group heads back towards Caer-Konig for a rest.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 21, 1496 (5 days after the New Moon)
Once they reached the frozen river, it was easy to follow it downstream. Even with worsening visibility, it would be impossible to get lost now. Bjarnson led the way with Eberic's dog team close behind. Pariah's anxiety faded now that they had a clear path to follow. The sunlight faded after a couple of hours, and the darkness brought back a little bit of her nervousness, but Lulu and Zariel lit the way so they could see their path.
Pariah was surprised when Bjarnson pulled his sled to the left, away from the river. She leaned over his shoulder to ask, "Why are you turning?"
He pointed towards the river, which was already out of sight. "See the glow?" he asked.
She peered into the darkness and blowing snow, and realized she could see three sets of lights. Each was a pair of curving arcs that mirrored each other. She could also see over a dozen dark shapes looming among the flurries, though she couldn't make out what they were.
"Monsters?" she asked, wondering if she should get her bow.
"Reindeer," he replied. "I don't want to spook the herd."
She looked at him to see if he was kidding. "Reindeer that glow in the dark?"
He laughed. "The local species of reindeer have a quirk where a few of them are born with glowing antlers; nobody's sure why. The Reghedmen believe they are gods that walk among us so prohibit killing them. Of course some Ten-Towners don't respect that and kill them anyhow. The antlers are prized because they retain their glow for about two months after the animal dies. It's also possible to find antlers that have been shed, though they tend to have a weaker glow that fades after a week or two."
"Huh," she said, looking back as the glow was swallowed up by the snow. "Too bad we can't see them better."
He nodded. "They are magnificent, especially the older males whose antlers can get quite large."
"But they lose their horns?" she asked, unconsciously looking up at her own.
"Antlers," he corrected her. "Horns, like those on goats," he grinned at her, "or tieflings, are permanent. But animals like moose and reindeer have antlers that fall off every year to be replaced after a few months with larger ones."
He turned back to intercept the river again and resumed their trek back to town.
When three hours had passed according to Dejen's clock, Pariah took over driving. Zariel did the same on the other sled and Pariah, via Lulu, told her to take the lead. The other woman's confidence was growing but she still tended to run the team a little slower than the more experienced drivers, and Pariah didn't want to have her fall behind or feel obligated to drive faster than she was comfortable.
Around five hours after they left the cave with the construct, with the wind never abating, even Pariah was feeling the chill and looking forward to a roaring fire and hot mead. She checked her coffee bottle now and then and, whenever it refilled, she'd share it with the others. It was only about a half of a mug for each of them, but it was hot and helped keep them alert during the boring trip. Checking it against Dejen's timepiece, she estimated it was about an hour and a quarter between fill ups.
Finally, the river widened as it emptied into the icebound Lac Dinneshere. The two sleds crossed the frozen river while it was still narrow, and started making their way around the northwest shore of the lake, knowing that Caer-Konig was less than an hour away. The wind slowed, though it didn't stop. Kelvin's Cairn's snowbound slopes glowed in the dim light of the crescent moon, and they could see fishing boats out in the unfrozen parts of the lake. It all felt familiar and safe, unlike the last couple of days.
It was a relief when they saw the lights of Caer-Konig along the slope that led down to the harbor. As they came into town near The Northern Light inn, Pariah looked around to see if any sleds were nearby. Specifically she was looking for sleds flying the gold on black flags that marked them as Torg's, and she was relieved when she didn't see them. She kept meaning to ask Eberic their schedule so she could know which towns to avoid.
They pulled up in front of the inn and debarked. They started unloading in the shifting colored lights of the inn's hallmark lantern as Bjarnson went through the group, looking at their faces. "You two," he said to Zariel and Dejen, "get inside. Get in front of the fire and get warm."
"Nonsense," Zariel said, her teeth chattering. "We can help unload."
"Inside," he said sternly. "Now! We can manage the packs."
She paused, obviously considering arguing the point, but then nodded. She and Dejen went inside along with Lulu, while the other three unloaded the packs. They stacked their belongings by the door and then Bjarnson squatted down by the dogs to unhook them from the line.
"Need help?" Pariah asked.
"No, I've got this. I'm just going to let them loose for now. We'll take them up to the warehouse to feed them later."
She and Eberic lugged their belongings through the door to drop them on the floor in the reception area. Zariel and Dejen were in front of the fire in the dining room, their cloaks open as they held their hands out to the heat. Allie was there as well, looking at them with concern as she handed them steaming mugs. She looked over with a bright smile as the packs thudded to the ground.
"Oh, you all look like you need to warm up. Hot tea? Mead?"
"Mead," said Eberic.
"Same," added Pariah. She leaned out the open door. "Bjarnson, what do you want to drink?"
"Tea, I think," he replied. She relayed that to Allie who hurried off into the kitchen.
After shoving their luggage to one side in case anyone else came in, they all crowded around the fire to bask in the heat. Bjarnson joined them shortly thereafter.
Allie came out with a tray of drinks, which were quickly distributed. She smiled at them as they gulped down the hot beverages. "Will you be staying with us tonight?"
"Yes," Pariah said. "Three rooms."
Allie glanced towards the kitchen conspiratorially and whispered, "On the house, of course."
"Are you sure?" Pariah asked. "I don't want you to get into trouble with your sister."
"It's fine," Allie assured her. "Did you want to eat first or go to your rooms?"
"Eat," Pariah said. "I'm starving."
There was a general mumble of agreement from the others. Allie said, "Help yourself to the knucklehead stew; there's a good dose of garlic in tonight's pot. Anyone want anything additional from the kitchen? Tonight Cori's prepared knucklehead roe in oil served with seal cracklings, or braised rabbit with kelp."
Pariah didn't know what roe or cracklings were, but she wanted to supplement the stew with something a little heartier so she ordered the rabbit. She was glad when Bjarnson ordered the roe so she could see what it was. Dejen also ordered the rabbit and the other two said they'd be fine with what was in the pot.
They settled down to bowls of stew as they shrugged their furs off and let the heat thaw them out. Zariel and Dejen hugged their stew bowls close, basking in the warmth. They were both pale and Dejen's hands were shaking; Pariah could see why Bjarnson had insisted they come inside.
Allie came out with another round of hot drinks, and shortly thereafter with plates for Pariah, Dejen and Bjarnson. She looked at the latter's plate, curious about the food he had ordered. He invited her to take a taste. The cracklings were chunks of seal fat after the oil had been rendered out. They were light and crunchy with a fishy taste. The roe were fish eggs drizzled with oil. His plate was more of a snack than a meal. Her rabbit was a little bland but not bad. There was a slab of blubber and a kelp salad on the plate as well.
They ate bowl after bowl of stew, and Zariel ordered the rabbit as the afternoon wore on. Finally, they sated their appetites and leaned back in their chairs with contented sighs. The dining room had been empty when they started, but two other groups had come in by the time they were finished.
"What time is it?" Pariah asked Dejen.
He pulled out his pocket clock and said, "A bit after five."
The heavy meal and the fatigue from the cold and travel had Pariah yawning but it was too early to go to bed. "I suppose we should at least move our stuff into our rooms," she said, eyeing the packs that were still stacked in the lobby. Allie had already brought their keys.
Bjarnson said, "Eberic, how about if you bunk up with Dejen. I'm going to spend the night with the dogs."
"I can do that," Pariah said. "I can handle the cold night better."
"We have the warming stone," he reminded her. "I'll be fine out there."
"That's true" she said. She preferred the idea of sleeping on a mattress rather than a bedroll, so she didn't fight him on the subject.
"Before I head out to feed the dogs and set up my camp, do we have a plan for tonight? Or are we just taking a rest until tomorrow?"
Everyone looked at each other silently. Pariah said, "I think I've had enough fun for one day. I thought about trying to read some of those books we got, but I'm probably too tired to make sense of them."
"I want to go through the books as well," Dejen said, perking up. "I can't read them, well except for that one in archaic Espruar, but there may be diagrams and maps. Plus I want to examine the artifacts we found. And that delightful construct."
Pariah didn't like the enthusiasm in his voice as he talked about the construct. "But you aren't going to activate it, right?"
"Oh, no, of course not," he said.
She wasn't sure she believed him, and wondered if she should sleep in her armor that night just in case it started rampaging through the inn. She suppressed a sigh.
Eberic said, "At some point, not necessarily now, we need to decide what our next stop is. Because I don't see that we got anything out of that trip that's actually going to address any of our problems."
He was right, Pariah realized gloomily. She certainly hoped that Dejen could figure something out from the Netherese books and artifacts, but the chances of them having brought back the Wand of Ending Magical Winter seemed unlikely. Half a tenday had passed since the last sacrifice; she hoped they could find a solution before the next one.
Plus of course there was the threat of duergar and devil worshippers.
Lulu said to Eberic, "You want to go home."
"Yes," he admitted. "If we are going to take time to plan, we can plan in Termalaine as easily as here."
He had a point. He might as well go back home. They could stay at the inn there; despite Marrit's assurances, Pariah was still worried that they were overstaying their welcome.
"How long's the trip back?" she asked. "In hours I mean. Seems like a long trip around the loop."
Eberic replied, "It'd be about five hours by road, but it would be half that cross-country."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," she said, trying to remember the map in her mind.
"If the weather holds," Bjarnson said. "If a storm blows in, we either wait it out or take the road so we don't get lost. Plus the roads are generally safer, but I agree with Eberic we should just head cross country."
"Makes sense," Pariah said. She leaned forward to talk to the group more quietly. "And to be honest, I would rather avoid Caer-Dineval. I don't want to take the chance that Avarice or you-know-who learn we have Netherese books and artifacts." Which led her to think of someone else she wanted to avoid. "Where is Torg's nowadays?"
Eberic looked up at the ceiling. "Five days after the moon, so Easthaven working their way up the east road."
"Then cross country it is," she declared.
"Does Termalaine have an armorer?" Zariel asked Eberic.
He shook his head. "Blacksmith for tools and such, but not someone I'd trust with armor and weaponsmithing."
Zariel looked down at her armor. "I need to get some of these splints replaced," she said, running a finger over the metal that had been corroded by the ooze that the simulacrum had transformed into.
"Oh, right," Pariah said. "And I need to get my sword re-sharpened. And Eberic, your armor got messed up too, right?"
He nodded.
She groaned, "We're going to have to go to Easthaven after all." It wasn't that she disliked the town, and she liked several of the people she'd met there, but she was tired of running into Torg's.
Eberic grunted into his mug. "We could stop in Dwarven Valley."
"Oh, of course," Zariel said. "And it's right on our way. Could they provide lodging while we wait? I fear the repairs to my armor could take even a skilled armorer several days."
He made an uncertain noise. "They don't really like putting up visitors. A caravan like Torg's is one thing, but random travelers are something else."
"We could leave my armor and then come back for it, if it's that close to Termalaine," Zariel suggested.
"That's true," he said thoughtfully. "That sounds like our best bet."
"Can they fix your leathers?" Pariah asked him.
He made a sour face. "Passably, but there's a leatherworker in Termalaine I'd trust more."
"So we drop my sword and her armor with the dwarves and head back to your house, then go back and pick them up a day or so later," Pariah said. She wasn't that happy being without a weapon, but she still had her bow, dagger and magic if necessary. She was more worried about Zariel's safety if they should be attacked, but she hoped they could manage a couple of days without fighting anything.
The door opened with a blast of cold air and swirl of snow, and a group of three people came into the lobby. Pariah said, "We should move before the dinner crowd comes in."
They got up and left the dining room, exchanging polite nods with the incoming customers. Allie came out to greet the new group and, after she took their orders, Bjarnson waved her over. He handed one of the keys back. "I'm going to sleep with the dogs tonight," he explained, "so I won't need this." He turned to Eberic and said, "You don't mind bunking with Dejen, right?"
The dwarf grunted and shrugged.
"Are you sure?" Allie said in a worried tone. "It gets so cold at night."
"I'll be fine," he assured her. "We'll be in the warehouse by Frozenfar, and the dogs'll keep me warm."
"All right," she said reluctantly. "But if you change your mind, I'm in the first room on the right." She pointed down the short corridor at the back of the reception area. "Just knock and I'll get you a key."
Bjarnson grabbed his pack and opened the door, letting in a cold gust. Pariah said, "I'll come by later this evening. See if you or the dogs need anything."
"I'll keep a lantern on," he grinned at her. "Good night, everyone."
As the rest of them headed down the hall to the guest rooms, Dejen said to her, "I thought we might start working our way through those Netherese books tonight. Let's see, we probably don't want to do that in the dining room -- too public -- so you could come to my room or I to yours."
She suppressed a groan. "Not tonight. I'm beat. I'll read a bit -- one of them is an adventure story -- but I'm too tired to actually think."
"All right," he said, disappointed. "I suppose I'll start investigating some of the artifacts we found. I don't think there's a new Summer Star in there, but you never know!"
"Be careful," she warned him, knowing he wouldn't listen.
She, Zariel and Lulu took the first room and the men the one next door. As they were getting settled, Eberic knocked on the door and said, "I'm going to the tavern. Anyone want to come?"
"No thank you," replied Zariel.
Pariah debated about it for a second. She figured Trovus would be there and she liked his stories, but he'd also probably insist that she drink excessively and she was too sleepy for that. Besides, she'd already taken her boots off. "Not now," she said. "Maybe later."
He grunted a response and headed down the hall.
Zariel put down her cloak and knelt on it before bowing her head to pray silently. Pariah sat up in bed with her journal and a pencil to document the day. Lulu flew over to sit on her shoulder and read as she wrote.
She jumped as she heard a loud crackling noise from the room next door, and Lulu took to the air. Pariah and Zariel exchanged worried looks and both hurried out into the hall. "Dejen?" Pariah said as she knocked on his door. "Are you all right?" She could see down the hall into the dining room where some of the guests were craning their necks to see what was happening.
He opened the door, his eyes wide and his hands shaking. "Oh, um, I'm fine, yes, fine, thank you," he stammered out.
"What happened?" she asked.
He held up a slender wand, which she remembered was one of the Netherese artifacts they had taken from the tower. It looked to be made of ivory and had a red gem about a third of the way from one end. Pariah had examined the gem before but it wasn't much more than glass, so she hadn't given it much mind.
He said, "I noticed this gem depresses when you touch it but nothing seemed to happen when I did. Then suddenly one of the lanterns exploded." He pointed a shaking finger behind him.
The lamp mounted on the wall looked quite unexploded to her. The glass looked to be a little scorched inside, but that could have been normal soot. "Exploded?" she said.
"Well, yes. I mean you heard it. Like this." He pointed the wand at the lamp, squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the gem. The lamp flame burst into a shower of bright sparks with a crackling noise, but the sparks bounced against the glass and quickly dissipated. The lamp remained undamaged.
Cori came hustling down the corridor. "What are you people doing to our inn?" she demanded.
"Nothing," Pariah assured her. "Sorry, just a small firework. No harm done."
She pushed past Pariah to look into Dejen's room, her sharp eyes sweeping the area for damage. "Well take those fireworks outside, or you'll be sleeping in the snow!" She sniffed and then stormed back down the hall.
Pariah glowered after her and then said to Dejen, "Let's try not to get thrown out of the inn, all right? You already nearly burned down the inn in Bryn Shander."
"That's not true!" he said indignantly. "There was barely any damage at all!"
She grinned to show him she was mostly teasing. "Well, test your toys outside from now on, all right?"
"Oh, very well," he said. "Perhaps I'll just read tonight."
Notes:
Reindeer with glowing antlers is from the module. The Reghedmen thinking they are gods, and the antlers retaining their glow are my own additions.
We are now in the transition between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 of the module. There are 7 chapters total. By Chapter 92 in Avernus, they had found the Sword of Zariel and were moving into the endgame. These slowpokes are only about 40% of the way through the story. I estimate the full work will be 800k words, 220 chapters, and mid-2026 finishing date.
They have gotten to Level 5, and part of this transition period will be them discovering their new abilities before moving fully into Chapter 3. I'll post the links to the character sheets after that.
The wand is a wand of pyrotechnics, though with the change that it requires a flame to work. I'm also going to allow him to use magic to supercharge it -- in other words, he has learned the pyrotechnics spell, which will use the wand as a component. He's still casting the spell using a spell slot; the wand is just flavor.
Chapter 93: A Barren Valley
Summary:
Pariah and her companions stop by Dwarven Valley on their way back to Eberic's home in Termalaine.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 22, 1496 (6 days after the New Moon)
Pariah was nursing a slight hangover as she guided the sled across the snow to the west through the dark morning. When Trovus had realized they were back in town, he came to the Northern Light and insisted they join him for "just one or two" drinks at the Hook, Line, and Sinker. He peppered them with questions about their adventure to the east, and they told a disjointed lie about a treasure cave that shouldn't have fooled anyone, but he hung on every word and toasted their success.
This, of course, reminded him of one of his own stories: the time he had hiked up Kelvin's Cairn to root out a remorhaz -- some kind of giant fire worm that burrowed through the earth -- after it started devouring livestock and a few locals.
Eventually he said he had to go out on his nightly patrol, and they were able to use that as an excuse to head back to the inn. She never got a chance to go check on Bjarnson -- since he hadn't been at the Northern Light, he had missed the jovial invitation -- but he and the dogs were fine in the morning.
A storm pounded the inn during the night and Pariah was afraid that meant they'd have to take the long route when they set out. However the wind had calmed by morning and a thick fog was already dissipating by the time they finished their breakfast. They harnessed the dogs and headed out as early as they could.
Kelvin's Cairn stood on their right, just a couple of miles off, its snowy slopes pale in the starlight. There were no trees or other vegetation visible ahead of them, just a wide expanse of flat tundra.
After about a half hour, they started to leave the mountain behind. Dwarven Valley stretched out over five miles from its base, and would eventually cut across their direct path to Termalaine. The mountain wasn't as useful a landmark as she had hoped. Just because they could see it didn't mean they knew what direction it was. She had looked at the map before they left and realized the peak would go from being northwest of them when they started to northeast at their destination. Trying to keep the mountain in the same relative place as they traveled would have them going in a circle.
Which is why Eberic was leading. He knew the area, knew how to judge their location by what features of Kelvin's Cairn he could see. He led them in a straight line, occasionally sighting on the mountain to adjust his course slightly. Pariah kept an eye out for threats but the area was clear with nowhere for ambushers to hide, although she reminded herself of the spiders that had hidden under the snow.
After a bit more than an hour, they reached the edge of the wide cleft that ran for miles out from the base of Kelvin's Cairn. Eberic turned to run along its edge, far enough away to be safe but close enough for them to see down into the valley. The rift was nearly a mile wide and a thousand feet deep. Walkways and stone steps had been carved into the valley wall, but there were no structures above ground, which wasn't surprising for a dwarven settlement. None of the stairways led all the way to the far lip of the canyon, nor did she see any sign of entrances on this side of the valley. The place seemed deserted, but she had no doubt that sentries watched them from hidden locations.
The land slanted down as they traveled and the valley grew shallower. The rift ended in a steep slope that rose up to meet the rest of the land that surrounded it. A path cut through the snow from the valley out into the tundra, though it quickly faded into the drifts beyond. Three dwarves in chainmail sat around a fire to one side of the road, and they all jumped to their feet when Eberic's sled came into view.
Eberic held up a hand of greeting as he stopped his sled. He called out to them in Dethek, waving to indicate his companions. One of the dwarves, a man who wore a wool scarf across his mouth and goggles across his eyes, came over to study the newcomers. The other two -- a portly dwarf with blue streaks in his white beard, and a bald dwarf who was missing two fingers from his left hand -- stayed back and held their weapons at the ready.
Eberic and the soldier spoke to each other in Dethek. Pariah couldn't understand the words, but she recognized the officious nature of guards the world over. The conversation went on for a while, but finally the soldier waved them through. The other two stepped aside, one on each side of the road, and Eberic led the group down into the valley.
The canyon walls rose up on each side as they descended the slope. Nothing moved, though that was common above a dwarven settlement. All the action would be underground. Something bothered her and she finally realized what it was: there was no smoke. Even if they had some kind of underground lava stream heating the complex, there would still be the need for forges and cooking fires. Where was the smoke?
They passed a couple of tunnel openings on each side of the valley and she could see a single sentry at each, who watched them pass with disinterested gazes. The tunnels were dimly lit and disappeared into the darkness beyond her sight.
Eberic let the dogs run full out, since it's not like they could get lost here. They seemed to enjoy the run and it was only a few minutes before he pulled up in front of another tunnel opening. This one was larger than the others, with a pair of sentries. She could hear barking so guessed there must be a kennel inside.
They disembarked. Eberic said, "We won't stay long so there's no reason to kennel the dogs. There are forges scattered throughout the tunnels but the main one, which is also the one open to outsiders, is down here. We can drop off what needs to be repaired and head out."
Bjarnson was kneeling down in front of his dog team. He said over his shoulder, "I'm going to stay out here and check on the team."
Eberic nodded with a grunt. "All right. Shouldn't be long."
He headed into the tunnel, exchanging a terse greeting with the guards. As the group followed him into the underground complex, they started to hear the sounds of life echoing through the tunnels: voices, movement, and the clanging of hammers. The air grew warm and they loosened their cold weather clothing to enjoy the comfortable temperatures. They passed storage and meeting rooms, and they started to see more dwarves going about their business, occasionally glancing at the newcomers and greeting them with silent nods, or staring at Lulu as she flew ahead of the group.
They followed Eberic into one room and were met with a blast of heat and the smell of sulfur as they entered the main forge. Three furnaces were on the far wall, two of them glowing with heat and the third dark and cold. A young dwarven boy with a wisp of a beard was shoveling coal into the middle furnace.
A gray-haired dwarven woman was hammering at a metal plate, using the horn of an anvil to curve the metal. She was nearly topless, wearing just a strip of cloth wrapped around her breasts. Sweat poured down her body. Her apparent disdain for protective clothing had given her an array of small, old burns and cuts on her arms and torso, most notably a bad burn that went from her right shoulder to her elbow.
Eberic approached her and waited silently while she worked. She plunged the hot metal into a bucket of water and looked through the steam. Her face lit up with a grin. "Eberic! What brings you here?"
"Gillyd," he greeted her back. "I'm just passing through." He motioned towards Zariel. "She needs her armor repaired so I brought her to the best armorer in the valley."
Gillyd made a humph sound. "Best armorer in Icewind Dale, you mean," she teased.
She put her hammer on top of her forge and walked over to Zariel, who had removed her cloak. The armorer looked over Zariel's splints while tapping her chin. "Dwarven work but not mine."
"Rurden in Easthaven," Zariel said.
Gillyd nodded. "Competent armorer." She frowned at the spots of corrosion. "How in the Nine Hells did you do that?"
"A wizard's spell went wrong, turning him into some kind of acid blob," she explained. "I'm not sure if he blamed us for the accident, or if he just went mad from the transformation, but we had to fight him."
Dejen piped up, "I was able to repair some of the damage, but the corrosion seems to have undermined the strength of the metal. I imagine you'll have to replace the damaged splints."
"Yeah," the dwarf said. She walked around Zariel, calculating the damage and muttering to herself. When she came around to Zariel's front, she declared, "Eighty dragons, a tenday."
"That long?" Zariel asked in a disappointed tone. "It is dangerous to travel the wilderness without armor."
Gillyd made a thoughtful noise and mumbled to herself, "I suppose I could get Fargrim to help." More loudly she said, "A hundred dragons, four days."
"That seems reasonable," Zariel said with relief.
"Paid up front," the dwarf cautioned her.
"Yes, all right." Zariel went over to the anvil and put her pouch on top of it. As she counted out gold and platinum coins, she asked, "Is there a jeweler here?"
"Gardain does good work," Gillyd said, and she looked over towards another corner where there was a workbench and a smaller anvil. She frowned in that direction and said, "Though he's not here right now. Boy!" The latter was yelled at the young man, who jumped to attention. "Go get Gardain and tell him he's got work."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he ran out of the forge.
Pariah said, "And I've got a sword that needs sharpening." She drew her saber to show to the smith. "Same big blob. The damage wasn't as bad so I think the blade's solid, but the edge is pretty shot."
The dwarf sighted down the blade. "Bent. Needs more than just sharpening, but yeah the metal looks fine. Ten dragons. I could get this done in a couple, three hours but I'm booked until tomorrow."
"We'll come back," Pariah said, reaching for her pouch. "I'll pick it up when she gets her armor."
Dejen was wandering around the forge, looking at everything with wonder and scribbling in the air. Eberic was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. Lulu was standing on one of the workbenches, looking bored. Zariel was removing her armor and looking towards the door, waiting for the jeweler.
To pass the time, Pariah asked, "What did you want a jeweler for?"
"I would like you each to wear a symbol of Lathander," she explained. "It will make it easier for me to share his protection with the group."
Pariah furrowed her brow. "Have you asked everyone about this?"
"No," Zariel said, confused. "Why?"
"Because people take their religion fairly personally. Asking someone to wear the symbol of a god they don't worship is a little...rude."
Zariel was stunned. "Oh. I suppose...yes I suppose I can see that." There was great disappointment in her tone.
Pariah added, "I don't think any of us worship gods who dislike Lathander, but I'm not up on the latest divine gossip."
Zariel scowled at her. "Lathander is well-liked among the gods of benevolence, such as Tymora and Oghma. From what I know about the faith of our companions, I can't see why anyone would object."
Pariah didn't feel like getting into a philosophical discussion about faith at the moment, so she said, "Maybe, but you should still ask. Me, I'm fine with it. The gods may piss me off at times, but I'm not going to refuse their protection."
The other woman seemed unsatisfied with her lack of enthusiasm but didn't comment. She said, "Eberic? What about you?"
The dwarf shrugged. "Fine with me."
"Dejen?" she asked. The other man was bent over the jeweler's workstation studying his tools and didn't respond. "Dejen?" she asked more loudly.
"Hmm?" he replied without looking up from his investigations.
She explained the situation again, and that took his attention away from the jeweler's table. "So these holy symbols will channel magic?" he asked.
"Not exactly," she said. "I will give them a mild blessing but they will not be magical themselves. They will merely allow me to focus my protection, directing some of the harm you might receive onto myself."
"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly. "I don't really want to cause you pain."
"I will be fine," she assured him. "I feel I am the most resistant to physical punishment in this group, but I can't always be there to protect everyone or draw an enemy's ire onto myself."
"Fascinating," he said. "Is this a spell or a prayer or something else?"
Further discussion was halted when the young dwarven boy came back in, followed by a pale dwarven man wearing dark pants with a green belt. The older dwarf, who was presumably Gardain the jeweler, was just putting on a white shirt as he came into the forge. From his yawning, Pariah gathered he had been woken from a sleep. His hair and beard were tangled messes. Pariah had heard of bed head; did dwarves also get bed chin? Bed beard?
After the boy pointed to Zariel, the man said, "What do you need?"
Rather than answer him immediately, she said, "Lulu, go out and ask Bjarnson if he'd be willing to wear a symbol of Lathander."
She turned to the jeweler and held out her hand, though it was to show her ring rather than as a greeting. "I was wondering if you could fashion four more rings like this, preferably out of platinum. It's important that the design be exact as they will be used in a religious ritual."
He took her hand to peer down at her ring with reddened eyes. Despite his fatigue, his gaze was sharp. "Not too complicated," he said. "Come over to my bench and let me sketch the design."
Zariel followed him, saying, "We plan to be back in four days and I was hoping they could be done by then."
"Four days," he mumbled. "Maybe. Does it have to be platinum? White gold is easier to work and more durable."
"Platinum is the best metal to hold the enchantment I have in mind," she explained.
"Hmm. I have enough in stock." He had reached his workbench and was leaning back against it, staring off in thought. "Four days, yes, I should be able to manage them in four days."
"Excellent!" she said with a broad smile.
Lulu flew in. "Bjarnson says it's fine," she said.
The jeweler raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't think I can make a ring for someone that small," he said.
Zariel looked up at Lulu and then back at him. "No, it's not for her. It's for our human friend, who's outside with our dog teams."
"I'll need the ring size for each person. If they are all here, then I can measure them myself."
They each went to the jeweler's bench and he measured their fingers; Bjarnson came in long enough to get that done. Then Gardain sketched out the design with Zariel looking over his shoulder and making corrections as needed. She was eventually happy with his work, and the group headed back out to the sleds.
As they boarded, Zariel said to Eberic, "As long as we are here, are you sure there is no one you wish to visit? It's still early and we have only a short trip to Termalaine."
That was true. The short period of daylight hadn't started yet so they could stay a couple of hours and still be home before afternoon dark. Eberic looked thoughtfully down the tunnel they had just left before saying, "Nah, not this trip. Maybe when we come back." He rubbed his ribs unconsciously. "I'm just tired and achy right now and I want to get home." He took his position behind the reins and said, "It's not like it's been years since I've been back. It's only an hour on a sled. Marrit and I get out here every month or two."
He said, "Hike!" and snapped the reins to get the dogs moving, turning them around to head back up the valley. Pariah had taken the reins of their sled, and she followed him about thirty feet back. They moved quickly through the quiet settlement, waving at the guards as they exited the valley and turned right towards Termalaine. The weather was still clear and calm so Eberic sighted on Kelvin's Cairn and headed into the wilderness.
Pariah's thoughts turned gloomy as they drove. She didn't share Dejen's confidence that the things they got from the Netherese tower would help them in any way. She'd skimmed the books to see if any were obviously about magic, particularly how to block the actions of the gods, but hadn't found anything promising. Most of them were histories or novels. There were three about magic, including one about the creation of mythallars. However, the latter wasn't a how-to manual; it was a history of how Netherese archmages had used principles found in ancient elven magic to create the devices.
She had discussed it briefly with Dejen and he had pointed out that it might be impossible to create mythallars. Certainly those who knew magic better than either of them had been trying for centuries. He explained that Mystra had implemented limits on access to the Weave after Karsus's Folly to avoid such catastrophes in the future, and it was widely believed that had made it impossible to create artifacts as powerful as mythallars.
They could continue to pursue the duergar, which probably meant an expedition from Easthaven to explore the ridge where their stronghold should be located. But stopping them, while beneficial to Ten-Towns, did nothing to stop the Everlasting Rime. Levistus might know how, but he was taking advantage of the hardship to recruit people into his cult so he wasn't going to offer advice unless they could find something of more value to offer him.
It might be worth investigating Auril's cult, particularly Davrick Fain. The one piece of information they had gleaned from the operation of the Summer Star was that Auril had to renew her spell every night. If they could interrupt that, stop her from doing it, then the area should be free.
Sure, she thought to herself. We'll just find the goddess and slap her around until she agrees to stop. No problem.
They had raised an army to stop Zariel, and even that plan had been a desperate gamble. In the end it was only the coincidence -- or, she grudgingly admitted to herself, the divine machinations -- that led to Zariel's sword, Lulu, and the heartfelt appeal of a group of mortals working together to convince the fallen angel to turn away from her goal. Somehow Pariah doubted that a heart-to-heart talk with Auril would have the same effect.
Lathander might have his plans, but he wasn't providing much guidance, no matter what Zariel claimed. Levistus alleged he wanted to stop Auril, but she was skeptical of that. If it was true, it was only because he had something worse in store for Icewind Dale. There were rumors that Silvanus was bolstering nature so that it could survive Auril's onslaught, and the fact all the trees hadn't died after two years of darkness led her to believe that, but he wasn't taking action against her. None of the other gods seemed to be interested at all. Yet again, it was left to the commoners and the priests and the adventurers to figure out for themselves how to stop a divine tantrum, with no direct help from above.
"Fucking immortals," she sighed.
Notes:
I mentioned in an earlier chapter that I was trying to avoid Dwarven Valley because I don't want to create another location and characters and so on, but there's no easy way to avoid it this time. Between the much shorter trip and their need for craftsmen that don't exist in either Caer-Konig or Termalaine, I didn't have a choice.
The module has literally a single paragraph about Dwarven Valley. "Legacy of the Crystal Shard" has a section that goes into more detail, including a map, but it's still a fairly limited description that comes down to "here's where the fights are". Other than a temple, the map shows no specific facilities like forges, storage, quarters or anything else. I had to improvise a lot.
For the repairs, since five corrosion events destroys the armor or weapon, I assumed that each individual instance requires 20% of the total cost to repair. Zariel had 2 so 40% of her armor cost of 200 is 80 gp. I used the Xanathar's formula of one workweek per 50 gp, or one day per 10 gp, to figure out the time, and assume he has a helper so that's 4 days. I then ignored that for the rings since it would be 20 days to make all four, but it shouldn't take longer to make a ring just because it's platinum instead of copper. So, 4 days for the rings seems fine.
The rings Zariel wants are the material component from warding bond. If everyone has a ring, then she can use the spell on anyone who gets into a bad situation. It fits her Interception fighting style and her Redemption Paladin subclass.
Chapter 94: Mystic Powers and Odd Friends
Summary:
The group rests in Termalaine while they try to come up with a new plan to stop the threats to Icewind Dale.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 23, 1496 (7 days after the New Moon)
The world looked strange to Pariah. The colors were muted blues and yellows. Her point of view changed, looking at Bjarnson sitting behind her. His red hair was gray, his wind-burned cheeks ashen. The point of view slung around again and she was looking at herself sitting cross-legged on the cold ground with her eyes closed. Her pale skin and blue hair looked about the same, though maybe less vibrant. "This is weird," the person she was looking at said in an odd voice.
She laughed. "Is that what my voice sounds like?" It was deeper than she was used to.
"Voices sound different to the ears of others," Bjarnson said. His voice sounded odd as well, though was clearly his voice; she couldn't place what was different. He continued, "In addition dogs hear things we don't. They can hear higher pitched sounds and sounds farther away."
It was true. She could hear more things, though the world wasn't louder. His voice sounded the same volume, just slightly shifted in some way. They were sitting in the road outside of the kennel so the other dogs couldn't interfere. She could hear sounds like the rustling feathers of the axe beaks in the other corral, and the voice of two kennel attendants as they had a quiet conversation about an injury one of the dogs had incurred.
Pariah sniffed. "I can't smell anything different. I thought dogs had sensitive noses."
"That's why I showed you only how to use their eyes and ears," Bjarnson said. "I tried tuning into a dog's sense of smell once and I nearly passed out. It was like looking into the sun -- well, back when the sun was bright. Or having ten people screaming into your ear. Our minds are not designed to know the things a dog smells."
She laughed. "Like touching the mind of a god."
He chuckled back. "That's a good way to put it."
She hadn't actually touched the mind of a god, though an archdevil once dumped a library's worth of information into her brain. That hadn't been pleasant.
"But I can't control her, right?" Pariah said. It was disorienting that her vision changed at the whim of the dog. She kept trying to turn her head to look at things to the side, only to be surprised when the dog didn't move or did something else than she had wanted.
"No. You just see and hear what she does. But we can both talk to animals. You're getting better at that."
"That's true," she admitted. It was still a strange way of communicating, not like speaking or telepathy, but she was learning to understand there was a difference between language and communication.
"And if you don't want to expend the magic to speak with them, a trained target can be given orders. Or she could be led by someone else. Or you can do something like this." She heard rustling and something moved into her vision. "See it, girl?" Bjarnson said in an excited voice. "Want it?"
It was a ball of horsehide stuffed with straw. Pariah's vision zeroed in on it and the perspective changed slightly as the dog rose to a stand. Bjarnson threw the ball and the dog went after it.
Pariah cried out in surprise, and then started laughing as her vision tore across the snow. The dog ran at full speed, her vision locked onto the movement of the ball. She caught up to it and her vision zoomed towards the snow as she snatched it up. She turned and ran back to the two figures seated in front of the corral around the dog kennel.
"That was crazy," Pariah laughed. She had put her hands onto the cold ground to steady herself. Her mind was spinning as her eyes and her body told her two different things about what she was doing. "Does this get easier?"
"I'm pretty new to it," he said. "Focus is what's important. The vision and hearing of your own body is cut off, but it helps if you try to push away your other senses. Be the dog, not the person, not someone separate."
"How long can I keep this up?"
"I've managed about a half hour but I wasn't trying too hard to push it. The disorientation got worse over time, so I don't think I could maintain the connection forever. However tapping into a dog's sharp hearing or a cat's ability to see in the dark is not only an amazing experience, but I imagine could be very useful if we ever wanted to spy on someone."
"Well, I can already see in the dark," she reminded him, "but I get your point."
She shook her head to clear it and break the connection with the dog. "I think that's all I can take for my first day." She opened her eyes and it took her a moment to transition to the brighter and more colorful world, though it seemed strange to use those words to describe this snow-covered landscape dimly lit by the morning twilight.
She reoriented herself while Bjarnson took the sled dog through the gate and towards the inner corral. She stood up and stretched. The sky had been calm all night, and only the barest whisper of wind blew through the streets now. The weather overall had seemed calmer the last couple of days and she couldn't help but wonder if somehow their experiment with the Summer Star a tenday ago had weakened Auril's hold even if it hadn't completely broken it.
Then again, there had been at least two full-blown blizzards in that time, and the air was still as bitterly cold as before so this was probably just a regular lull.
She looked over at the four axe beaks in the other corral. Two were sitting with their bellies flat on the ground and their necks held high, though they weren't moving. Although they looked awake, Bjarnson had told her earlier that they were probably asleep. They slept with their heads up and eyes open to fool predators. The other two birds were pacing aimlessly around the corral.
He came back out of the corral and said, "Head back to the house?"
"Sure," she replied, and they started down the road leading into town.
The group was in good shape despite their recent battles. Bjarnson said Eberic was progressing well and his chest injury should be fully healed in a day or two. She'd noticed the dwarf wasn't wincing anymore as he moved, and didn't get out of breath as often as he used to. He still needed another few days to replenish his reserves, but they had time to kill while waiting for Zariel's armor to be repaired so that was fine.
They arrived at the house to find Dejen in the front yard. He was peering at his left gauntlet, drawing on it with his magic quill. He looked up as he heard their footsteps and gave them a distracted smile of greeting before returning to his inscriptions.
"What are you working on?" Pariah asked.
"I'm using a magical principal similar to the one on my crossbow to propel small objects," he said as he continued to draw magical symbols on his gauntlet.
He'd sewn a small pocket at the wrist. He finished his writing and transferred his quill to his left hand before taking a vial of oil from his pouch. He slipped it into the wrist pocket and then drew his small crossbow. "All right, fifth time's the charm," he said.
He turned to a stone that jutted up out of the snow near the road. Pariah could see four other vials of oil in the snow around it, all intact. Dejen braced himself, took a breath, and blew it out quickly. He held out his left hand, still holding the quill, angling his hand up to show his palm. The vial shot out and impacted the stone, shattering and covering it in oil. He aimed his crossbow, drew a symbol over it, and a bolt of fire shot out. It hit the stone, which burst into flame.
"Yes!" he crowed. "Finally got the aim right."
"That's pretty nice," she said. At first she silently wondered if that was actually more effective than just firing two quick flame bolts, but the fire kept burning for a good ten or fifteen seconds before the oil was used up so she could see its value. "I remember that tree we fought seemed vulnerable to fire."
Dejen was grinning ear to ear. "It can shoot other small things. Marrit mentioned an apothecary in town who has vials of acid. I also wondered about little clusters of ball bearings to make enemies slip. The possibilities are endless!"
"Have you looked at the firework stick anymore?" she asked. "I'm not sure how useful it is to us, though I guess it could be a good way to signal people in the wilderness or something."
He had pulled another vial out of his pouch but paused as he was slipping it into the pocket on his gauntlet. "I was thinking about that last night. It is a magical device, though I'm not clear of the principles. But I was wondering if I can supercharge it, run more power through it and make a much bigger burst of fireworks. I don't think it would do damage, but it might dazzle an enemy's vision or something."
"Well, don't burn the house down," she cautioned him.
"Mm hmm," he replied as he finished loading the glove and took aim at the rock again.
She and Bjarnson went into the house. She might not be as sensitive to the cold as the others, but it was still nice to come into a warm house. Marrit was sitting in her rocking chair and Lulu was sitting on the table next to her. They looked up and greeted the two of them as they came in. Pariah looked around and didn't see Zariel or Eberic. "Where are the others?"
Lulu said, "Zariel went out before sunrise to say a morning prayer. She wanted to go to the edge of town. I'm surprised you didn't see her, since they were going close to the kennel. Eberic went with her and they are going to go to the leatherworker after she's done."
Dejen had used his mending magic on the holes the black pudding's corrosion had burned into Eberic's leather armor, but the damage had been too bad for him to fully repair it, just like Zariel's armor and Pariah's sword.
Lulu said, "So did it work? Did you see through the dog's eyes?"
Pariah grinned. "Yes I did, and it was really strange. But I want to do it again sometime."
"And you could do any animal? Like a bird or a fish or something."
That hadn't occurred to her. "I guess so," she said, looking towards Bjarnson who nodded. "I was just thinking dogs and cats and horses and like that. It might be fun to be an eagle looking down from a thousand feet, or see a fish's view of the bottom of one of the lakes." She was excited to try this new ability, though she had to be careful. She was tapping into more power as she got comfortable, and Bjarnson was helping her channel it into communing with natural forces rather than wielding fiendish energies, but she still had her limits. And they still had enemies. She didn't want to exhaust her magic on fun only to be attacked, especially since she didn't have her saber at the moment.
She and Bjarnson fetched hot drinks from the kitchen and settled down in the living room, chatting with Marrit and Lulu about nothing much. Pariah was a little worried about Eberic and Zariel being out there alone, but she and Bjarnson had been just fine, plus Lulu kept them informed about Zariel's activities.
It wasn't long until Eberic and Zariel returned to the house, and Dejen came in with them. Marrit and Bjarnson began preparing lunch for the group. Pariah thought about the inn and tavern, but Marrit seemed genuinely tickled to have guests to cook for.
They had only just started eating when there were two loud thuds against the front door, like someone kicking the wood. Eberic frowned. "You expecting anyone?"
"No," Marrit said as she stood up. "Might be someone looking for some scrimshaw. Or Karina might need help shoveling her steps again."
She went into the living room while they continued to eat. They heard her open the front door, and then she called out in alarm, "Eberic? Come here please. Quickly."
The dwarf got up and hurried out of the kitchen. "What the devil is that doing here?" he demanded from the living room.
The rest of them rose from the table and went out to join him. Marrit was backing away from the door, or more specifically from the axe beak that was bending down to fit through the doorway. Pariah hadn't been this close to one before, and it was bigger than she had expected. It was tall, its head nearly touching the ceiling, but it was also broad. As it squeezed through the door, its fluffy white feathers compressed a bit to reveal a lot of muscle underneath. It stepped forward with large feet, its toes tipped with long talons. It opened its heavy beak to squawk loudly as it watched them with beady eyes.
"Shoo!" Eberic shouted, stomping forward and waving it away with his hands. It towered over him and clearly wasn't intimidated by his presence. "Get me my bow," he said over his shoulder.
"Wait!" Zariel said, stepping forward. She walked up to the beast. It peered at her and then lowered its head as it bent one backwards-facing knee. She bowed slightly towards it. "Look," she said to the group, pointing to its beak.
It turned its head slightly as though to show them. Its beak was shaped exactly like a vertical axe head made of dull yellow bone. On the side of its beak was a design in brown: a road leading into a rising sun.
"Is that..." Pariah began. "Is that Lathander's symbol?"
"Yes," Zariel said, walking forward to pet the side of the bird's head. Pariah tensed, afraid the animal was about to bite her arm off, but it closed its eyes slightly in pleasure as she scratched it. "His name is Haol and he's been sent to assist me. He is not actually a beast but rather a celestial in beast form."
Bjarnson asked, "And you know this how?"
"He is speaking to me," Zariel tapped the side of her head, "like Lulu can."
"So he's not dangerous?" Marrit asked uncertainly.
"Oh, no, not at all," Zariel assured her. "He's here only to help us."
"All right," Marrit said, though she didn't seem that reassured. "Should we take him to the kennel then?"
Zariel and Haol exchanged a silent look, and then she said, "He would rather stay here." Marrit opened her mouth but Zariel quickly added, "I don't mean here like in the house. He can stay outside in the woodshed. He doesn't need food and this animal form he has taken can tolerate this harsh climate. He just wants to stay close in case I need him."
Marrit and Eberic exchanged a glance, and he gave her a silent shrug. "Well, then," she said, "let's go out and take a look. We'll have to clear some room for him."
The axe beak turned around and bent down to squeeze himself back out the door. Zariel and Marrit put on their furs before following; Eberic and Dejen joined them. Bjarnson headed back to the table.
"You're not going to go see?" Pariah asked him.
"Seems like enough people are going out anyhow. And he's not a natural animal so I wouldn't be any help. Sounds like he can tell her if he needs anything." He didn't seem bothered by the creature's presence, just disinterested in something that wasn't a natural beast.
"That's true," she said. She was debating about grabbing her cloak and heading out with the others, and then she spotted Lulu standing on the windowsill peering out the curtain with a pouty expression.
Pariah sat down in the chair nearby. "Nowhere near as good as a giant, golden mammoth," she said.
Lulu looked back at her with a start, a little embarrassed. Then she whispered, "And he can't even fly like I could."
"I know, right? Absolutely a second-class helper."
Lulu giggled. "I know I shouldn't be jealous, but I sometimes wonder if I should have changed into this. Maybe a hollyphant would be more useful to Zariel."
"I don't know," Pariah said. "At your full size, you'd be tusk-deep in the snow your first step outside. And you wouldn't be able to go into most of the places we've gone. Plus, you know, hands!" Pariah held out her own hands to demonstrate how useful they were.
"That's true," Lulu grinned.
Pariah wanted to put an arm around her shoulders, but that was a little difficult with someone so tiny. She leaned forward and said, "He's just a helper. You're her friend. That's a big difference."
"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "And he's probably very nice." She frowned towards the window. "I suppose we should go out with everyone else."
"We can stay here if you want," Pariah said.
"No," Lulu said reluctantly. "I should be friendly."
They put on their furs and headed outside and around to the back where the others were standing around the wood shed. Pariah hadn't looked very closely at the structure before, but seeing the axe beak next to it now, she could tell it was too small.
Zariel said, "Could we extend the wall here? It would give him a windbreak at least."
Eberic shook his head. "That would be fine for weather like this," he waved at the calm sky, "but you've seen how bad the storms can get. A blizzard or hailstorm needs a solid roof."
"Animals survive without shelter," she said.
"But they often find shelter in trees or caves," he replied. "Or burrow into the snow. And a lot of animals die in storms." He studied the axe beak critically. "I still think the kennel is going to be a better choice. We might find an abandoned warehouse at the dock, but that's going to be farther away than the kennel is."
Pariah pointed to the sky and asked, "Can you send him back? Like Lulu?"
Zariel and Haol locked eyes. After a moment she said slowly, "Yes, though calling him back is more involved than with her. I suppose I could dismiss him in inclement weather, though he'd rather stay nearby."
Dejen suggested, "You could stay at the Eastside. That's right by the kennel."
Zariel raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's true."
Eberic said, "Are you planning to ride him?" She nodded and he added, "Then you'll need to go to the kennel to get him fitted for a saddle anyhow."
Lulu, nestled in Pariah's cloak, whispered, "I didn't need a saddle." Pariah grinned down at her.
Marrit said, "The Eastside isn't really much closer to the kennel than this house. We can let them know that this is a special animal and should be allowed to come and go as he pleases."
"And you think they would agree to that?" Zariel asked uncertainly.
The dwarven woman shrugged. "Not the strangest thing we've seen here. And I think if you've got Lulu with you, the 'special animal' bit is going to come across a little stronger."
Zariel and Haol exchanged silent thoughts. "Very well," she said. "He'd prefer to stay close, but you raise some valid concerns about his safety. I'll take him to the kennel and talk to them about accommodations and saddles."
Haol knelt down in the snow, and Zariel swung a leg over him. She took a moment to get settled on his bare back and then he rose. "I'll be back shortly," she said, and then the axe beak went running out of the yard at the speed of a galloping horse.
"Wow," Pariah said as they disappeared around a corner. "I didn't expect them to be that fast."
Eberic was looking in the same direction. "It's rare that they attack people, but I've heard stories about packs of them hunting lone travelers. If they came after you, you aren't getting away."
She had a vision of a flock of those massive beaks chopping at her. "Worth remembering," she said.
Notes:
You may have heard that dogs see black and white. Actually the structure of their eyes means they see only blue and yellow, so their vision is similar to that of humans who are red-green colorblind. They also don't differentiate brightness as well as we do, so their vision is more muted than ours. (Source)
Pariah is using beast sense. Since it explicitly says vision and hearing, I came up with that explanation of why she can't use the dog's sense of smell.
"He still needed another few days to replenish his reserves" -- in other words to recover his missing hit dice. With my "sort of gritty realism" rules, he'll need five days to regenerate two hit dice.
Dejen's new toy is an Arm Launcher, an infusion from llaserllama's Alternate Artificer. It uses a bonus action to shoot Tiny objects like vials of acid or oil. I've made the change that rather than an attack roll, it requires a DEX save based on his spellcaster DC. After all, wearing plate armor doesn't prevent you from being soaked in oil.
Haol is what happens when you cast find steed in Icewind Dale. I've been planning this since I decided on this module. The discussion about how to shelter the axe beak was another case of "I think way too much about little details."
I tweaked their blessing of the Morninglord to give them temporary HP equal to their level rather than a flat 10 HP. The default value is not only around a 25% increase in HP, but under my Gritty Realism type rules, they heal only 5-6 HP/day so a boost of 10 every day is a LOT. The combats I've run since they got that feat have been significantly less dangerous because of that. Tweaking it down still gives them more survivability, but isn't quite so overwhelming.
That reveals most of their level 5 abilities so I can link to the characters sheets now:
Chapter 95: A Stranger in the Woods
Summary:
Zariel trains with her new steed as the others study new skills and magics.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 24, 1496 (8 days after the New Moon)
After getting Haol settled in the axe beak kennel and outfitting him with a saddle, Zariel had spent the afternoon training with him. She spent hours charging along the roads, testing his speed and endurance. She set up some targets hanging from the trees along the north side of town and they went running back and forth while she tested her sword and javelin skills while mounted. Pariah had watched for a while out of curiosity and had been impressed by their precision. They moved as one, the bird responding to the psychic link they shared. Zariel finally came inside only when the cold got to be too much for her.
Lulu pouted during this exercise, and Pariah made some catty comments about their newcomer to cheer her up. She also suggested Lulu talk to Zariel about it, but the angel assured her that she wasn't really mad, just a little nostalgic for the days when the two of them used to ride into battle together.
Dejen spent the day studying the other artifacts they had found. Pariah assisted him but also went out with Bjarnson to work with her magic some more. Eberic rested, mostly at Marrit's insistence, but Bjarnson said his chest wound was healed. There didn't seem to be any permanent damage to his lung, which was a relief to them all.
The group again discussed moving to the Eastside Inn, but Marrit continued to insist that they were welcome to stay. They were still worried that Auril or her minions might attack them. Staying together in the house seemed like the safest bet, so they settled in for the night.
The weather worsened overnight, breaking into a full blizzard by morning. Zariel had wanted to do more training, but Bjarnson cautioned her that a person could get lost in a storm like this a hundred feet from safety. The freezing wind would also be hard on both her and Haol, so she grudgingly abandoned the idea.
The storm persisted for many hours. According to Dejen's timepiece, the daylight came and went in that time, though it was impossible to see that through the wall of snow. Pariah wondered if this storm was localized around them, and suspected they were all thinking the same thing. For now, all they could do was stay inside where it was warm and wait for it to end.
Finally the storm ebbed in the late afternoon. The wind was still blowing hard and tore at the house, and the snow left little visibility, but it was noticeably less violent than it had been in the morning.
The extended storm had left them all restless, wanting to get out of the house they'd been trapped in all day. They donned their cold weather clothing and went out as a group to walk around the town. Pariah was surprised by the lack of damage, but Eberic said these houses had survived two years of these storms. The poorly built ones had already fallen. The ones left were sturdy enough to endure.
They talked to the few people they met as they walked and confirmed the storm had been town wide. Nobody seemed to think it was suspicious; this was just life during the Everlasting Rime. One fisherman complained that he'd lost a day's catch and it was too late to head out now, but other than that nobody seemed especially upset. The group started to feel like maybe this wasn't some kind of divine retribution.
They ended up back at the house but didn't go inside. Instead they split into two groups. Marrit, Eberic, Dejen and Lulu headed to the Blue Clam to stock up on food. Pariah, Zariel and Bjarnson went to the kennel to see how the dogs and Haol had fared in the storm. They planned to head to the mill afterwards to pick up a load of wood, so they took a small, hand-drawn sled.
Everything was fine at the kennel. Like everywhere else in town, the place had survived terrible storms before. The animals had grown up in this environment and hadn't been particularly upset by powerful winds. Zariel declared that she was going to take advantage of this break in the weather to train, and started saddling Haol. Pariah wasn't too happy about separating, but Zariel was adamant so Pariah and Bjarnson headed towards the mill.
There were already a half-dozen sleds at the mill lined up to pick up wood. The white-bearded dwarf they'd seen before came up to take their order and payment, and then directed them to the queue to wait for their sled to be loaded. He was the one she and Dejen had talked to right after the brief respite from the Everlasting Rime a week ago. He had been dispirited over the brief return of the sun, but his mood seemed better today.
Pariah nodded towards the line and asked Bjarnson, "Is this because of the storm or is there a line every day?"
"Little of both," he said. "You have to burn more wood when the temperature drops as much as it did last night, so people run out a little sooner. Most people try to keep an extra couple of weeks' wood on hand, though the mill has limits about how much any one person can buy. Eberic told me that the mill is struggling to keep up with the demand, especially now that the loggers have to go farther to find trees."
Pariah looked through the doorway into the mill, studying the workers with concern as they rushed to fill the orders. "Let's hope we can find a way to end this for good."
It was hard to tell how long it took to fill each order. Two more sleds lined up behind them but that seemed to be the end of the rush. She estimated they had been there at least an hour when they heard a commotion nearby. She could hear yelling and saw people running around the side of the mill towards the west side. Remembering the mill had been attacked a few days ago, Pariah instinctively reached for the hilt of the saber that wasn't there.
"What's going on?" a man shouted.
"Someone came stumbling out of the forest," another man yelled back. "Got caught in the blizzard and he's nearly dead."
Bjarnson jogged off before she could say anything, and he disappeared around the corner of the mill, headed towards the incident. Pariah and the rest of the crowd followed out of curiosity, though she was still worried about the possibility of an attack.
"Move aside," Bjarnson bellowed, pushing his way through the crowd of people. He squatted down next to a fur-bundled figure who was sitting on the ground, slumped over. He took off his gloves to touch the man's hands and face, and check his eyes. He was talking to the man but Pariah couldn't hear anything from this distance.
As she got closer, she could hear the man saying, "...separated in the storm. Don't know what happened to the others." His speech was slurred and his voice barely audible. "Tried to dig into the snow but got too tired. Passed out I think. Not sure. But then the bear found me."
"The bear?" Bjarnson asked.
"Dug me out. Grabbed me in its teeth. Thought it was going to eat me, but it just dragged me along. Too tired to fight it. Too cold. It walked through the storm and then it dropped me on the ground. It nudged me with its paw, pointed its snout here, and then walked back into the forest."
The surrounding crowd mumbled, and Pariah heard the word "crazy" and "poor guy" along with a lot of chuckles. Bjarnson wasn't laughing though. Pariah couldn't see his face from this angle, but she heard the intensity in his voice when he said, "Bear? What kind of bear?"
"White," the man said and then he closed his eyes.
Bjarnson stood, gazing down at the man for a moment before lifting his head to look at Pariah. "Grab a couple other people and take him into the office. Heat some blankets or rags by a fire; do not heat them in boiling water. Keep them dry and put them here, here and here." He pointed to his neck, his armpit and his groin. "If he wakes up, give him hot tea or even just hot water. No alcohol." He looked off into the forest. "I'll be back."
He transformed into a white-furred fox, leapt through the railings of the fence, and darted into the trees.
Pariah hesitated, confused by what had just happened. She looked down at the unconscious man and then back into the trees. She wished Lulu was here but she saw some small black and white birds perching in the nearby trees and that gave her an idea.
She pointed to a couple of the onlookers. "Take him into the office and get started on what he said. I'll come along in a bit, but I have something I need to do first."
She was afraid they'd object, but the locals knew how dangerous hypothermia could be. Each person took one end of the man and started carrying him towards the office. Some of the onlookers went with them while others headed back towards the mill entrance.
Pariah looked up at the birds and focused her attention. She whistled softly, though the noise was meant to attract their attention rather than communicate. She tried to send friendly and inviting energy towards them. She reached out a hand, index finger extended, and after a moment one of the birds flew down to perch on it.
She'd gotten better at understanding how to communicate with animals, though she couldn't describe the sensation. It wasn't like talking or telepathy, just passing meaning through emotion and gesture. She pointed in the direction Bjarnson had run, picturing the fox in her head and the bird flying after him. She reached out and gently touched the bird's head, willing her senses into it. It took flight and her head spun as the world moved in ways her body wasn't expecting. She felt herself sit heavily on the cold, hard ground but focused on seeing and hearing what the bird did.
It was too far away to speak with now so she had to hope it would remember what she'd asked it and not get distracted. Her stomach dropped as it flew over the trees, looking down for movement. It saw something and flew lower. It was the fox, dashing across the snow leaving tiny footprints next to the ragged trail left by the man.
The bird followed him. The fox never looked up, didn't seem aware he was being watched. He stopped at a disturbance in the snow, sniffed the air, and then continued running after the larger tracks that led away from the patch. Pariah could tell these were animal rather than human tracks, and she assumed these must belong to the bear.
The fox suddenly emitted a high pitched yelp, almost like a strange laugh. Pariah wanted to look ahead but the bird was focused on the fox. He kept running until he caught up with a polar bear. The bear turned to look behind it but still lumbered through the snow. This bear was much larger than the two sickly ones they had freed from the goblins, with a healthy amount of winter fat under a thick, white coat.
The fox ran in front of it, yelped again, stood on his hind legs and transformed back into Bjarnson. The bear stopped and reared up, towering a good two feet over him even though he was a big man. Pariah was afraid it was about to maul him and cursed herself for not just running after him, though she knew she wouldn't have been able to keep up in the deep snow.
And then the bear started to transform just like he had, though not all the way. It didn't turn into a human or similar creature. Instead it became something like a human-bear hybrid, similar to the beastmen she'd seen in Avernus. Shavar, the air genasi they'd met, had called them a word she couldn't remember, something starting with an L. Bjarnson was a big man, but the ursine creature stood head and shoulders over him.
Bjarnson pulled down his hood to reveal a wide grin. He and the half-bear threw their arms around each other in a hug of greeting.
The bird took that moment to turn away, circling the area to look for the fox it was supposed to be chasing. When it didn't see its target, it flew down to land on a branch nowhere near the two Pariah wanted to watch. With a grunt of frustration, she broke the connection and then stood and walked towards the office to see how the frozen man was doing.
One of the men who had carried him was attending to the injured man, but the other four in the office were standing around not really doing anything. It was a small space so she opened the door and said, nicely but firmly, "Anyone who's not helping, get out. I think we've got this."
The others ambled out of the room leaving her and a blonde human man with a two-day beard and two missing fingers. He said, "Theon's warming blankets and fetching hot water for him to drink." He had the man's gloves off and was vigorously rubbing one of his hands.
She took his other hand, which was pallid and freezing cold, and applied the same technique in an effort to restore circulation. She was honestly afraid he was dead, but she could see his chest rising and falling slightly.
"I'm Darragh, by the way," the blonde man said.
"Pariah," she replied. "Thanks for helping."
He shrugged. "We have to take care of each other. Besides," he held up the hand with missing fingers, "I know how bad the cold can be."
"Yikes," she said. "I've noticed a few of those kinds of injuries."
"Used to be rarer, and used to be just newcomers who never learned how to survive in the cold, but this winter has been bad. It's a lot more common now, even if you're careful."
She nodded to the unconscious man. "Do you know him?"
Darragh shook his head. "I've seen him around town, one of the hunters, but I've never met him." He let loose a heavy sigh. "I hope the rest of his group found their way back to town."
A dark-skinned man with close-cropped black hair came in through the door that led from the office to the mill. She recognized him as the man she'd bought paper from a while back. He was carrying a steaming mug. "I've got a few blankets by one of the fires. I'll go check on them in a bit." He looked down at the unconscious man. "Let's see if we can wake him up so he can drink some of this."
It wasn't that hard to rouse the man and sit him up. The three of them hovered around him as he carefully sipped the hot water from the mug. Theon, the dark-skinned man, brought back warm blankets that they stuffed into the man's furs, especially around his neck, underarms and groin as Bjarnson had pointed out. Darragh had heard about the same treatment; it was supposed to warm the blood where it flows the fastest so the heat can spread to the rest of the body.
By the time Bjarnson came into the office, the man's color was better though he was still shivering under his blankets and furs. They had discovered his name was Stavas and he had been part of a group of four hunters. They had gone out in the early morning, not realizing the storm would be so bad. By the time the blizzard broke, they were deep in the forest and lost. He didn't know what had happened to his companions.
The militia commander came by, having heard about the incident. He was an officious little snot who got Pariah's hackles up pretty quickly, though he wasn't focused on her at the moment. Seeing that Stavas was in good hands, Pariah suggested to Bjarnson that they leave before their friends started to worry. Their sled had been loaded with wood, so he grabbed the traces and hauled it out of the mill yard.
As they walked down the wide road that led back to town, she mulled over what, if anything, she wanted to ask him. She knew that most of her motivation was just nosiness and she should probably leave it alone, but there was a difference between being private and being dishonest.
As they neared the cluster of four houses that made the Eastside Inn she reached out a hand to stop him. Still searching for the right words, she said, "Look, I'm hardly the one to preach about not keeping secrets. But if one of us has a secret and it might affect the group, then it seems like it's something we should talk about." She fixed him with a firm gaze. "So, does one of us have a secret like that?"
His expression was both baffled and suspicious. "What are you talking about?" he asked cagily.
She shrugged dramatically. "Nothing. Just talking." And then she added playfully, "Bear son."
Bjarnson's mouth worked for a bit but no words came out, and then he said with resignation, "How did you find out?"
"A little bird told me," she responded cryptically. "But seriously, I just want to know if this is something we need to know about you. If it's not, fine, you can go out in the forest and hug all the bear men you want."
He was stunned. "How...?" he began, and then he sighed and closed his eyes. "I shouldn't have shown you how to see through animal's eyes, should I?" He looked at her again. "Are you going to tell the others?"
"Depends," she said. "We've traveled together a while. I trust you, so I'll ask again: does this affect us?"
He studied her critically and said, "No."
She was prepared to drop it at that point, but he added, "And it's bear woman, not bear man."
"Really?" she prompted, waiting to see if he'd say more.
"Her name is Oyaminartok," he said as he turned to look out towards the forest.
"Is she the one who saved you?"
He nodded. "I remember more about my past than I've let on."
"Oh?" she prompted again.
He turned back. "And that definitely doesn't affect us," he said firmly.
"Fair enough," she replied, a little disappointed.
He resumed walking, pulling the sled behind him. She kept pace, assuming the conversation was over, but after a bit he said, "They are called the fomvekker; shapeshifters who live in the deep tundra and travel usually only in the worst storms. They live secretly, staying far from civilization; most people think they are myths. However, they have been known to help lost travelers who would otherwise die."
They walked in silence until he asked, "Are you going to tell the others?"
"No," she said, having already decided that. It wasn't a worse secret than Dejen's affiliation the Harpers, and definitely not as bad as "one of us used to be an archdevil". "But I'll trust that you will tell them if it becomes an issue."
"I will," he promised. "But it won't."
Notes:
In case you care, an arctic fox sounds like this.
The encounter was random. I still roll random encounters to add some variety to the narrative, and this particular creature is listed on the table. It seemed like an interesting story moment regarding Bjarnson's past. Pariah used speak with animals and beast sense.
Fomvekker is my own word, a corruption of formveksler, the Norwegian word for shapechanger (according to Google). I thought it had a little more mystery than "werebear". Oyaminartok herself is from the module.
Chapter 96: Home Invasion
Summary:
The group nears the end of their rest period, but still has no real plan for moving forward.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 25, 1496 (9 days after the New Moon)
The weather the following morning was almost unnaturally calm, which was a relief after the fury of the storm that had kept them inside most of the day. They still had one more day before they could return to Dwarven Valley to pick up Zariel's armor and Pariah's sword, so they each found ways to pass the time.
Pariah's success at inserting herself into the bird's mind had motivated her to cautiously explore her power. She told herself that she didn't need to be afraid of the magic she used to have. She was pleased she was finding new ways to direct the energy, but there were familiar paths she had trodden before. Those spells might come more easily.
With that in mind, she probed her memories. So many of her past abilities had been instinctive. Now she had to focus on how she had manipulated the energy. It reminded her of learning to read after having been able to read everything. It was familiar but it was also new.
She had moved outside to practice, since she was worried about uncontrolled releases of freezing or dark energy. She didn't want to try to summon ice from the sky -- the area had enough problems with ice storms already -- but there were many other things she had been able to do. And so, after about an hour of experimentation, she managed to disappear into a swirl of ice crystals and reappear on the other side of the back yard.
That expression of energy took a lot out of her so she headed back inside to join the others and relax.
At the moment, they were sitting around the kitchen after lunch, having another fruitless discussion about what to do next. Unfortunately, after two days of conversation, they still didn't have a clear idea of how to move forward. Bjarnson and Eberic suggested heading to the Spine of the World in the hopes of finding the duergar base. Zariel and Lulu had no opinion, both waiting on guidance from Lathander that wasn't coming. Dejen suggested going back to Bryn Shander to talk to Dannika Graysteel to see if she'd discovered anything in her studies of the chwingas. Pariah knew he also wanted to check in with Beldora; their talking stone allowed only limited conversation each day.
Then she remembered that they all knew that secret. It was hard to keep track of who knew what. She'd considered telling Lulu about Bjarnson's encounter, but then the asteri would feel obligated tell Zariel and suddenly half the group would know. The whole thing seemed harmless, though she didn't like keeping secrets from the others. Well, maybe other than the former archdevil in their midst. That was a lot to ask them to accept.
She'd been up late the previous night with Dejen, reading aloud from one of the books they'd found while he made notes with his magic quill. The book had been about the destruction of Ventatos, a city that had disintegrated in flight over Cormanthor several centuries before Karsus's Folly. The author presented a convoluted conspiracy theory about why it happened that seemed like nonsense to Pariah, but Dejen assured her that sparks of truth could be found even in the ravings of madmen.
He hadn't joined them for lunch. He was in the spare room poring over the Netherese artifacts. He had admitted that he no longer believed the answer to ending the Rime was in the artifacts themselves, but he was fascinated by the magical and technological methods used in them. She suspected she'd have to go in there and physically drag him to the table to get him to eat.
As that thought entered her head, she heard the door to the bedroom open. Good, maybe he was coming to eat on his own. She leaned sideways to look out the kitchen entry, opening her mouth to say there was still plenty of food left.
Her stomach dropped when she saw what was coming out of the bedroom.
She snatched the carving knife off the table, leaping to her feet and drawing magic into her left hand, knowing she could do little without the focusing stone in the hilt of her sword. "Look out!" she yelled.
Her armor, shield and dagger were in the other room, as was everyone else's equipment. None of them were dressed for battle, and this thing had been hard to take down even when they had been ready for it.
The Netherese construct stumbled out of the bedroom, catching its shoulder on the door frame with a loud thunk of metal on stone. It turned to study the wall with the single crystal set in its face. It shifted clumsily to the side, and stepped out into the living room.
"What the hell?" Eberic demanded. He was on his feet and grabbed an iron frying pan hanging from a hook near the stove. The others were still confused, having not seen the invader and unsure what was going on.
Lulu flew behind Pariah to see the situation and then said, "Oh, no."
"Wait!" Dejen yelled, scurrying out from behind the construct to stand protectively in front of it. "Wait," he said again. "It's fine. He's safe."
The construct had stopped moving. It watched them all, its single crystal eye focusing on each of them in turn.
"Why is that infernal thing walking around my house?" Eberic demanded, holding the frying pan threateningly.
"I've been studying the control mechanism. That disk we found. That's how he is given orders, but it needs a sort of psychic link. When we activated it, that link hadn't been established so I think he thought we were intruders. I've attuned myself to the control disk and he seems to have accepted me as his new master. He should be a wonderful addition to the team." He beamed proudly at the thing.
To be fair to him, the construct wasn't attacking. It just seemed to be watching and waiting, like a servant.
Pariah shook her head. "Agauksh," she thought to herself, Avarice's favorite insult for stupid people, though Pariah's tone had a lot less vitriol. Sometimes this man was like a child playing with a venomous snake.
"What did I say?" she demanded. "I said 'Don't fix the construct.' I told you to promise me you wouldn't do that. And now?" She gestured with the knife towards the thing.
"But that's when you thought he was dangerous. He's under control now. And he's broken." He moved aside and pointed to the construct's body, which still showed a lot of damage from the fight. "Even if he wanted to attack, he couldn't hurt us. I don't really know how to fix him so he's barely holding together. One good blow and he'll go down."
Eberic walked up to it, frying pan still at the ready. He shoved it and the construct stumbled back a step, nearly falling before it righted itself. It studied the dwarf but took no action.
"Why...why did you do that?" Dejen asked.
"It's lying if it's told you it means us no harm," Eberic insisted.
"He hasn't told me anything. I can sense the mental link with the control disk, but he doesn't seem to be able to communicate."
"So you can't actually talk to it," Pariah said. "You can't actually give it orders."
"Well, I've been gesturing and that seems to be working so far, for simple things anyhow. And I figure I can teach him Chondathan so we can talk to him better."
Pariah scowled at the thing, but it remained motionless and non-threatening at the moment. "Lulu, can you see into its mind?"
The asteri was standing on the back of one of the chairs in the living room. "No. I've tried and I just get a sort of buzzing noise. I can't make sense of it. I've tried sending thoughts to it but it doesn't react to anything I say."
Eberic grunted at the construct. "Keep that thing outside. I don't want it in the house."
"Ulis," Dejen said. "His name is Ulis."
The dwarf glowered at him and repeated, "Keep that thing outside. I don't want it in the house."
"Oh, very well," Dejen said in disappointment. "But you'll see. He's very helpful. Come along, Ulis."
He led the construct to the back door and opened it. As Ulis went outside, Dejen mused, "Maybe he could chop some wood."
"Do not give it a weapon!" Eberic bellowed.
Dejen winced at his loud voice. He said, "I'll find something for him to do," before heading out and closing the door behind him.
They all stared silently at the door for a moment until Marrit said, "He could be right. It might have reacted like a cornered animal when you first met it, lashing out because it felt trapped and confused. Maybe it's safe now."
"Maybe," Bjarnson said, "but a wild animal is always wild even if you bring it into your home."
Eberic hefted his frying pan and said, "I should go out tonight and smash the thing while he's asleep."
"Now, Eberic," Marrit chastised him, "it's not fair to go behind his back like that."
He grunted and headed back into the kitchen to hang the pan on a hook.
Zariel said, "I suppose we should give him a chance. Ulis I mean. Be cautious, but give him the opportunity to show he is our friend rather than our enemy."
"Until it kills us in our sleep," Eberic mumbled.
She continued, "Dejen is right that the construct is damaged. Even if he turned aggressive, I'm not sure how much danger he would be. You saw how much difficulty he had walking."
"Could be faking," Eberic pointed out. "Lulling us into a false sense of security."
"Perhaps," she said skeptically.
"Besides," he went on, "it's just a mindless machine, not a person. It could do anything."
Pariah didn't bother pointing out the incongruity of him thinking both that it was mindless and it was scheming to fool them. She was still trying to work out how she felt about the construct being active; mostly she was annoyed that Dejen had gone back on his word.
Zariel continued, "Not necessarily. Although many constructs are designed to do no more than follow simple instructions, some have a sort of intelligence. He certainly did not fight like a mindless thing."
"Even more reason to smash it," he insisted.
She pursed her lips. "My point is that he fought like he had some intelligence, so let us give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Be cautious, of course, but do not punish him for a moment of confusion when we first met." She turned to the rest of the group and said, "Or am I alone in this thought?"
Bjarnson said, "It feels unnatural to me. I'm not the enemy of modern convenience like some of us who worship nature, but this isn't an animal or a person like us."
Lulu said, "You could say the same thing about celestials. We aren't natural to your world. We don't behave the same as you. We don't think the same as you. To be honest, when I'm around mortals I've learned to act more like you to make you comfortable. We can seem very strange."
Bjarnson stammered, "I didn't mean anything like that about you."
"I know," she assured him, "but it's true. Celestials, constructs, elementals are all creatures that are different than you, but that doesn't mean they're mindless or dangerous. But it doesn't mean they aren't either. I agree with Zariel; let's see what he's like before judging him."
"I suppose," he said reluctantly.
They turned to Pariah, who sighed, "I guess. I mean I think he's coming with us whether we like it or not, so why bother arguing about it for the next few days? But Dejen has to agree: no more fixing him, and we mean it this time. No fixing the damage, no making him stronger, no restoring his weapons. He's not here to fight. He's an experiment in Netherese magic for Dejen to tinker with. If Dejen can get him to mop the floor or carry our bags, fine, but nothing that would restore him to fighting fit."
A mumble of reluctant agreement went around the room.
"I'll go talk to him," she said. "Make sure he understands."
She had planned to step out without grabbing her furs since she didn't feel the cold much, but she realized that Dejen had gone out without his outerwear, so she went to the front door and grabbed both cloaks. She went out the back door to find Dejen standing against the house, hugging himself against the cold wind. She pursed her lips as she tossed him his cloak.
"Thank you," he said through chattering teeth. "I realized I forgot my coat but thought maybe I shouldn't go back in right away. Everyone's voices sounded rather angry."
Ulis was standing there patiently watching them, unbothered by the freezing temperature. It was unnerving.
"We are angry," Pariah said, though she tried to keep most of the emotion out of her voice. "You should have talked to us first." Before he could speak she said, "I know. You think he's safe. He's harmless. Blah blah. I don't care. You should have talked to us before fixing something so dangerous."
"You're right," he admitted. "I really hadn't intended to fix him. I was just looking at him, studying the technology and the residual magical energy. I started to see the connections and understand the repairs needed. And then I was doing them. I didn't plan it. I just did it."
She blew out a cloudy breath. She knew he didn't mean anything by this. He wasn't a bad person, he was just...agauksh. She turned her whole body towards him. He was a head taller than her, but was hardly an intimidating figure. She said sternly, "I need you to listen." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "And I mean really listen. The group is this close," she held her thumb and index finger a tiny distance apart, "to smashing that thing to bits just to be safe."
"That's not-"
"I'm not done!" she snapped. "We are willing to give him a chance but you will not make any more improvements. You've had your fun, you've studied the Netherese relic, but that's it, understand? Because if you do any more repairs, we will smash the thing before it attacks us again."
Half of her attention was on the construct. She wanted to see if he would get protective of him if she got aggressive, but he simply watched impassively.
Dejen shrunk into his furs. "All right," he said in a small voice.
"And if he attacks us, any of us for any reason, then he goes down."
"He won't," Dejen assured him.
She shook her head. She knew he believed that, but she didn't share his optimism. Even if the construct wasn't malicious, who knows what kind of insane logic he might use.
Dejen looked towards the construct. "I'll look around the yard. I'm sure I can find some chores for him. You'll see. He'll be a big help to us."
She looked Ulis up and down before saying, "I'll ask Marrit if she can think of anything." Pariah guessed she would be more reasonable than Eberic would about the subject.
"Thank you. Oh, I know! He could sweep the snow off the walkways."
From the way the snow was blowing around, she wasn't sure there was a point to that, but it was just busywork anyhow. There were a few tools in the woodshed, including an old broom with an unruly mess of bristles. Dejen beckoned Ulis and the two of them walked towards the shed. Pariah hesitated long enough to be sure he gave the construct the broom and not the axe, and then headed inside as he made exaggerated motions while saying, "Sweep! Sweep!" to the metal man.
The others had moved into the living room, sitting around with hot drinks. They looked up expectantly as she went to the front to hang her cloak back up. "Dejen has him sweeping away the snow," she said. "He wants to know if there are any more chores he could do."
Eberic mumbled something in Dethek that earned him a glare from Marrit. She said to Pariah, "The yard could use some straightening up. Debris blows in and its easy to make excuses to stay inside and leave it for another day. I can think of some chores inside-"
"I don't want it in the house," Eberic insisted.
She gave him a frustrated look and said, "I'm not sure how much else we have to do around here, though it would help to have some wood chopped."
Her husband grunted but didn't object.
Her expression brightened as she thought of another idea. "The fishing fleets will be coming in later. They are always looking for extra hands to help with unloading. You're leaving in the morning so I guess there's no reason to ask at the mine or the mill."
Pariah had gone into the kitchen to pour herself some mushroom coffee before stepping out to lean against the doorway and look into the living room. "I could go out and watch him while he works. It would be good to have another pair of eyes on him just in case. Maybe chop some wood. Maybe head to the docks later. Just see how it goes."
She finished her coffee and then headed into the bedroom to put on her armor and strap on her shield; no reason not to be careful. When she came out, Eberic was waiting for her. He handed her the belt and scabbard that held his ice dagger. "If it acts up, put it down. For good this time."
She drew the weapon to look at it. She'd never held it before. The hilt was cold in her hand and the ice blade reflected the light. "I will," she said as she resheathed it. "Let's hope Dejen's right about him."
She cinched up the belt, which was a little loose on her since he was broader across the middle than she was, and then grabbed her cloak and headed back out into the cold, windy afternoon.
Ulis was clumsily sweeping the snow away from the path that led to the outhouse, though the ground just got covered again as soon as he moved on. Dejen was standing by him, beaming proudly.
She walked through blowing wind towards him. He grinned at her as she neared but then saw her shield through her partially open coat. "That won't be necessary," he assured her.
She didn't bother responding to that, instead saying, "Now I need you to be very, very honest with me about this. Do you think it is safe to have him chop wood?"
"Of course-" he started.
"No, not 'of course'. Do you think there is a chance he will attack us if he has a weapon?"
He huffed in frustration. "He won't attack us," he insisted. "After all, he didn't need a weapon before. He had built-in weapons, so he could have already killed us if he wanted to." Sheepishly he added, "That comment wasn't as reassuring as it sounded in my head, was it?"
She hadn't thought about the fact it had built in weapons. She looked at the construct's hands and arms. At the moment they were a framework of metal struts that seemed perfectly safe, but she remembered how they had transformed into a long blade and a short blade. She couldn't see any evidence of them now. "Do you think you could remove those weapons?" she asked.
"Um, I suppose I probably could," he said uncertainly. "I'm not sure how much of it is incorporated into the skeleton itself."
She watched Ulis sweep. "If you could remove just the pointy and sharp bits, we'd probably all feel a lot better about having him around."
"I'll see what I can do," he said reluctantly.
"But for now," she continued, "maybe we can have him chop some wood. Do you think he can do that?"
"Of course!" he gushed. "I'll just have to show him how. He's a very quick study."
"All right, then, go ahead. I'm just going to stand back here and make sure he doesn't go berserk."
She headed back to stand against the house, though the wind was coming from in front of her so this gave her no relief. Dejen took the broom away from Ulis and beckoned him to the woodshed. He took out the axe and a log and then carefully mimed chopping wood while keeping up a chatter that Pariah knew the construct couldn't understand. He split a couple of logs as a demonstration and then handed the axe to Ulis.
Pariah had her hand on the dagger and her shield up, ready to interpose herself between the construct and Dejen if this went horribly wrong. Ulis looked at the axe in its hand, and then the log Dejen had put in place, and then back to the axe. He gripped the haft in both hands, raised it, and chopped down.
The weak blow barely penetrated the wood. Dejen encouraged him and motioned for him to try again. Ulis swung the axe over and over, each time doing little damage to the log. Pariah tried to tell if he was pretending to be weak and clumsy, but if it was then it was a better liar than she was.
She relaxed, though didn't take her attention off of the construct. Maybe he really was too broken to pose a threat.
Dejen didn't give up and continued to heap praise on Ulis, saying he'd get it next time, and it would just take one more swing, and so on. The construct had made some progress and the split in the wood was about halfway through its length as it brought down one more blow. The split traveled another inch and then...nothing.
The construct froze. It didn't raise the axe again. Dejen's voice became panicked as he asked over and over if it was all right.
Pariah walked over to him. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," he said frantically. "I still get a weak sense from the control disk, but I think something broke in him. I just need to-" He broke off and turned to her. "Can I fix him? Please? I know you said I have to ask, but can I fix him? Probably one of the connections broke. Like I said, he's barely hanging together. But can I?"
"All right," she said. "But just to get him moving again. No improvements."
He reached into his cloak and she expected him to take out a set of tinker's tools, but he pulled out his quill. He moved the point in the air over the construct and blue lines appeared on the metal structure. Dejen followed the lines until he found one that was broken. He carefully drew over it, rejoining the connection.
Ulis straightened up and raised the axe into another blow as though he had never stopped. Pariah grabbed Dejen's cloak and jerked him back, though he hadn't been in the path of the axe. The construct continued chopping.
"See?" he said with a grin. "It's fine. It just needs a little tender loving care."
She looked at Ulis sourly. He wasn't the enemy she had feared he would be, but he didn't seem to be the servant Dejen wanted either. He moved like an old man, a very sick and clumsy old man. He seemed like nothing more than a toy, which was disappointing. It looked like their trip to the Netherese tower had been a waste.
Notes:
I said the construct was an upscaled nimblewright, and that was true while they were fighting it. Now it's basically an unseen servant that isn't unseen. Dejen can burn a spell slot to activate it or can "cast it" ritually, meaning he can tinker for ten minutes to activate it for an hour before it breaks down again. He may or may not find other uses for it -- which is not me being coy, but rather me having not figured it out yet.
Chapter 97: Across the Tundra
Summary:
The group leaves Termalaine to head to Dwarven Valley and recover their repaired equipment.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
Right after a filling breakfast of fish and kelp stew, berries, and a large slab of blubber, Pariah sat down to write another letter to Rowan. Marrit had handed the one she'd written a tenday ago to the monthly caravan on its way to Revel's End. Pariah would probably be back to Termalaine before the caravan came through again, but she had become much more aware of her mortality than before, so wanted to keep Rowan informed.
She wrote about the lottery and was surprised by the emotions that bubbled up in her as she did. She told her about the Netherese spire -- though she just said "an old tower" -- and about the failed transformation ritual and the mechanical enemy who may or may not now be a friend. As before, she assumed there was no privacy even if she sealed the letter, so was careful about details. She hoped to be able to tell the entire story in person soon.
They set out for Dwarven Valley shortly after the sky lightened. Zariel stopped outside the kennel to kneel in the snow and pray towards the sun hidden behind the glacier to the east while the kennel staff got their animals ready. The dogs were wary about the axe beak in their midst, but Bjarnson calmed them and Haol was on his best behavior, since he wasn't actually a beast.
They loaded the sleds while Zariel stowed her things in Haol's saddle bags. Pariah watched sourly as Dejen put a cube of white and yellow metal struts on the sled. The construct had proven to be a problem, though not in the way she had feared. Every time Dejen activated Ulis, he worked for a while and then broke down. Dejen fiddled with him, got him moving, but then he broke down again. Dejen seemed to think this was a great success; she thought it was a waste of time.
Marrit had finally allowed Ulis in the house, over Eberic's objections, and he had helped her clean the kitchen as well as doing some basic food preparation that didn't involve holding a knife. He could stir a stew or put logs in the stove or perform other menial chores. Eberic stayed nearby, his ice knife in his hand, but Ulis never gave him a reason to attack.
The construct had spent the night outside, deactivated and folded up into this compact form. Dejen had tinkered some more this morning, hoping to find a way to keep him activated longer. He was weak and clumsy, so not suited for a lot of chores, but Pariah started to see how he could have his uses, as long as he curbed his tendency to attack.
One change Dejen had made was removing his weapons. He had the ability to change the configuration of his body, for example transforming his hands into blades. Dejen removed what Pariah had previously called the "pointy and sharp bits" and now even if the construct tried to, the best he would be able to make would be a weak club. Dejen continued to insist that the construct was harmless.
Ulis did seem to pick up simple Chondathan words, like "sweep" or "carry", and Dejen was able to control him more easily. However Ulis listened only to Dejen, not to the rest of them, presumably because Dejen was the one who had attuned to the control disk. And the construct seemed incapable of any kind of thought or logic. If you told him to stir soup, she was pretty sure he would stir soup until doomsday even if the pot boiled dry or the kitchen burst into flames. She wasn't sure if that lack of volition was ultimately a good thing or a bad thing.
Part of her wanted to leave the thing behind, but if he was going to go berserk, it would be better that he was around them than around Marrit. Eberic had assured her that his wife could handle a hammer and axe as well as any dwarf, but that didn't mean they wanted to endanger her unnecessarily.
When they were all loaded up, Eberic got his dog team moving, putting Kelvin's Cairn on their left as they headed southeast to the mouth of Dwarven Valley. Dejen sat on one of the packs behind him, hunched over the construct and tracing lines with his quill. Pariah hoped he wouldn't be foolish enough to activate him while they were moving.
With a shake of the reins and a "Hike!" she got her own team moving. She had offered to drive while Bjarnson stood behind her. It wasn't hard to guide the sled, but more practice never hurt. She heard the muffled footfalls of Haol as Zariel brought up the rear. Lulu was riding in one of her saddlebags.
After they'd traveled for a while, Pariah turned to make sure Haol was still behind them. "He'll be able to keep up with the dogs?"
Bjarnson nodded. "Axe beaks can outrun sleds."
"I don't mean in short bursts. Does he have the endurance to keep running as long as they do?" She knew it was a little late to be asking that. They probably should have discussed this over the last couple of days, though she assumed Bjarnson would have mentioned any problems.
"He should be able to keep up. A full dog team might be able to go a little longer, but not much. We won't have to worry about him."
She turned back forward. "I'm surprised I haven't seen more of them around. I'd think the demand for dogs would be so high that the locals would have to use axe beaks."
"They can be awfully temperamental," he said. "They aren't the right animal for most people. Dogs are...well not easy, but friendlier anyhow. Axe beaks can be downright nasty, especially in the hands of an amateur who doesn't recognize the signs when one gets agitated."
Pariah cast another quick glance behind her. "That makes sense. But I have to admit, I would be pretty terrified seeing Zariel charging towards me on one of those."
He laughed. "Me too."
They continued across the nearly featureless expanse of snowy tundra. Dejen had said the entire trip would be about an hour; she estimated they had traveled half that. The wind was light, she was warm in her furs, and the dogs were running at a steady pace. She could feel the happy energy radiating off of them. She'd had her share of dark moments here in Icewind Dale, but racing across the frozen tundra was certainly better than riding through blistering heat in a loud metal death machine that ran on the torture of mortal souls. She felt a sense of contentment as she watched the landscape slide by.
And then she felt an icy touch in her mind. Memories arose of when he used to speak to her. Memories of her blood running cold, her breath fogging even in the heat of Avernus. Memories of his smug, condescending voice. Memories of his arrogance. Memories of his temptations. Memories of her fear that she masked with defiance. Memories that he had owned her, no matter how much she had struggled against her chains.
But it wasn't his voice she heard.
"Come to Caer-Dineval immediately," said Avarice. "I have found the duergar base. They are nearly ready to launch their attack on Ten-Towns. Speak to acknowledge this message."
Pariah had gripped the railing of the sled, expecting to collapse like she often had when he spoke to her, but her body held strong. She could still feel the coldness in her mind. She stammered, "We are going to Dwarven Valley. Where is the duergar base?"
"What?" said Bjarnson.
She turned to hold up a hand and shake her head at him. The touch on her mind faded into silence. She waited but heard nothing else. "Avarice wants us to come to Caer-Dineval. She found the duergar."
His brow furrowed. "We should tell the others."
"I agree. I-"
She broke off as the coldness touched her mind again.
Angrily, Avarice said, "Connection lasts only moments each casting. Don't waste my time. Come to Caer-Dineval immediately! Acknowledge."
Pariah pursed her lips, her natural rebelliousness against orders coming out. She said, "We're near Dwarven Valley. I'll talk to the others. We might come today; we might come later."
The feeling faded. Bjarnson was looking at her quizzically; she held up a hand to forestall him. As expected, she felt Avarice's presence once more. "Attack is only days away. Come now! I will not ask again!"
Pariah tried to hold her temper. "I heard you. I'll talk to the others and we'll get there when we can." If the duergar attack truly was imminent, she knew it was important to find out what Avarice had discovered, but she wasn't going to make the decision on her own.
She waited but there wasn't another message. She twitched the reins to get the team to go faster so she could pull alongside Eberic's sled. He stopped when she motioned at him, and Zariel rode up to join them.
"Avarice just contacted me," Pariah explained. "She has found the duergar base and says the attack is imminent. She wants us in Caer-Dineval immediately."
"Well, I suppose that solves the problem of what to do next," Eberic observed.
Zariel looked towards the glow of the sun behind the horizon and said, "I am reluctant to follow the instructions of a devil worshiper. I think we would be better waiting for divine guidance."
"Have you gotten any?" Pariah asked, her tone sharper than she had intended. "Because I'm happy to listen to Lathander, but it doesn't seem like he's talking at the moment."
Zariel hemmed and hawed but finally admitted, "Nothing as of yet."
"I don't want to jump just because Avarice or Levistus says so," Pariah said, "but stopping the duergar is important so we should see what she has to say."
"I suppose," the other woman said in a resigned tone. "I just wish we knew what his plans were."
"Nothing good," Pariah said, "but we can worry about him later. So, Dwarven Valley first and then Caer-Dineval after?"
Nobody seemed enthusiastic about the idea, but nobody objected either, so they resumed their travel towards the dwarven settlement.
It wasn't too long before they arrived at the mouth of the valley. Like before, three sentries stopped them before they could enter the canyon. As Eberic spoke to them in Dethek, Pariah looked over the guards. They were different than the ones before. She wondered if they rotated guards often throughout the day, since the open fire nearby wouldn't provide much heat. From what she'd seen of the others in her own group, two or three hours was all most people could take before the cold started to affect them, especially for people standing sentry rather than doing some kind of physical labor.
The guards waved them through and Eberic led the way into the valley, past smaller tunnels to the large entrance they had stopped at last time. Bjarnson stayed behind to check on the dog teams while the others went inside.
There was something comforting to Pariah about being in the dwarven tunnels with the sounds of life around them. There was an energy and hominess that was missing in the snowbound towns. You might get a sensation like this in a tavern, but the towns themselves were cold and silent with few signs of life. She preferred the open sky to living underground, but she could see how people might want to live like this when trapped in this endless, dark winter.
Only one of the three furnaces in the forge was burning today. The dwarven boy was inside one of the cold ones, wearing goggles and a cloth across his mouth as he scraped black residue off the walls. Gardain the jeweler was sitting hunched over his workbench.
Gillyd, the gray-haired smith, was standing at a work table, running a file along the edge of a battleaxe that was held in place by a vise. She glanced up as they entered, and gave the group a polite smile as she straightened up from her work. "You're back," she said. "Armor's ready. So's the sword."
She led them to the side of the forge where Zariel's armor lay among three other sets, though these were sized for shorter, broader wearers than hers. Zariel picked up the hauberk and looked over the new splints with a critical eye. "Excellent work," she said.
As she started to put on the pieces of her armor, Gillyd brought over Pariah's saber, still in its scabbard. Pariah drew the weapon and eyed the edge, seeing it was straight and sharp. "Yup, nice work," she agreed with Zariel as she strapped the scabbard's belt around her waist and adjusted where it hung.
Lulu flew over and alit on the jeweler's bench. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Lulu, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, peering down at his work.
"Be with you in a moment," he said. "Just need to finish this."
Pariah ambled over and saw he was gently pushing a tool along the surface of a copper plate. He was following lines drawn on the surface, digging a thin gouge into the metal surface. He reached the end of the line, blew out the debris, and then looked at the line through a lens. Satisfied he sat up.
"Got your rings here," he said, reaching under the table to retrieve a small tray and lay it on the table. It held four platinum rings with bevels inscribed with the same design as Zariel's ring.
Lulu picked one up -- the bevel was nearly as large as her head but she was able to lift it easily -- and inspected the design closely. She nodded, "This is good. I think Zariel will like it."
She inspected each of them and found no flaws. Gillyd was watching her with an expression of amusement, like he was watching a child judge the value of his work. Pariah knew Lulu had actually met Lathander so was probably a pretty good judge of what his holy symbol should look like.
With her examination done, Lulu picked up all four rings, two hanging from each arm, and flew over to Zariel to show her. Gillyd and Pariah followed her over.
"He did a great job," Lulu said.
Zariel was still putting on her armor so she said, "Can you hand them out then?"
"Sure."
Gillyd had written the wearer's first initial on the inside of each ring with a grease pencil so it was easy to tell who got each one. Pariah slipped hers onto her left index finger and it felt snug and comfortable.
Since payment had already been made, there was no reason to stay once Zariel had finished donning her armor. They headed out, remounted their sleds, and rode out of the valley. They turned towards the east and headed out across the tundra.
Eberic took the lead again. Pariah was impressed that he was able to navigate because the landscape all looked the same to her, but she realized people probably said that about parts of Baldur's Gate. A lot of the streets and buildings looked identical to outsiders, but she could see the differences.
As Zariel got more comfortable with Haol, she started to range farther from the sleds, heading to the top of hills to get better views of their surroundings. Pariah wasn't sure if she was really scouting or just enjoying the freedom of having her own mount, but as long as she stayed fairly close there wasn't anything to worry about.
The wind started picking up and Bjarnson said, "I'm not liking that sky." She looked behind her and saw clouds building in the west. "Another bad storm coming in," he said.
"We'll outrun it, right?" she asked.
"Yes. We can get under cover before it hits." He frowned. "I don't like the idea of being trapped in the castle with them though."
"True," she said.
She heard yelling ahead and turned to see Dejen standing on the back of the front sled. He was pointing excitedly at his lantern, the one he never let go dark except to refill the oil reservoir. Pariah had stopped noticing how he always carried it. She noticed it now because it was burning with a green flame.
Eberic halted his sled and Pariah pulled up next to him. Zariel joined them shortly thereafter.
"There's another chwinga here," Dejen said, excitedly peering ahead of them.
"You don't know that," Bjarnson cautioned him. "Remember the elemental in the cave. It could be something else."
"I suppose that's true," Dejen admitted, though that didn't dampen his enthusiasm.
Visibility hadn't gotten bad yet, but there wasn't much to see around them. They were in a shallow valley that curved south from Dwarven Valley and then back north towards Caer-Dineval. The land rose sharply in a rocky slope to their left and more gently to the right. Scrubby vegetation huddled on the lee side of the rocks and there were four small pine trees scattered nearby.
"You don't know direction?" Pariah asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," he replied, "I'm not sure of distance but from what I remember of the elemental in the cave, at least two hundred feet."
"That's a lot of area to search," Bjarnson said. "And if they don't want to be found, it's a waste of time anyhow."
"I can look," Lulu said. "If I concentrate, I can sense things like elementals if I get close enough."
"Could you?" Dejen asked with a bright smile. "It must be that way," he said, pointing in front of them.
"It could be to the side," Eberic said. "You just know it's in a circle at least two hundred feet away. It could be on either side of us."
"Well, maybe," he said. "But it must be close!"
"I'll fly around and see what I can find," Lulu said.
She took to the air and flew a couple of hundred feet away before starting to fly arcs back and forth, each arc moving a bit further out. Zariel urged Haol to move in the same direction, and the sleds came up behind her. They all kept their eyes peeled, but Pariah didn't expect them to be able to see anything.
"She's found something," Zariel called back and then turned and trotted off up the uneven slope to the left. Pariah stopped the dogs as she eyed the terrain, knowing it would be difficult to guide the sleds between the wind-scoured rocks.
As though reading her thoughts, Bjarnson said, "We should leave the sleds here. Snow shouldn't be deep so we don't need snowshoes."
They dismounted and headed up the slope. Pariah almost headed back as she realized she'd left her shield and bow on the sled, but she had her saber and her magic so those would have to do. She didn't hear fighting or yelling so hoped that meant everything was all right.
Bjarnson was leading the way and crested the slope first. As soon as he did, something he saw spurred him into action and he jogged away from the rest of them. Worried, Pariah increased her pace until she could see what was on top of the hill.
Zariel was squatting by a boulder taller than she was, her gauntlets off so she could get her fingers underneath it. She was straining to lift it but the stone must have weighed two or three thousand pounds. Bjarnson moved up next to her, got a grip, and added his strength but the rock wouldn't budge.
Pariah wasn't sure why they were so desperate to move the rock. Lulu stood on another rock nearby, watching nervously. There was nothing else around other than some snow and a bundle of sticks at the base of the boulder.
As the group moved nearer, the bundle of sticks turned to look at them.
She realized that the sticks were arranged in a roughly humanoid shape. Its head was made of snow with two stripes painted horizontally across the front, what she guessed was the creature's face.
"Is that a chwinga?" she asked Lulu, knowing the asteri could talk to them telepathically like she had before.
"Yes," Lulu replied in a worried tone. "I'm talking to them with my mind, but they don't really talk like people."
Pariah nodded knowingly, thinking of her own experience with talking to animals. "What happened here?"
"I'm not sure. They were here with other chwingas and then they were trapped under the rock."
"Where are the others?" Pariah asked, looking around for other doll-like figures.
Lulu shrugged. "They left."
"How long have they been here?"
"They aren't sure. They don't understand numbers, but the sky has gotten light and dark many times. They don't have to eat or drink or anything. They have just been lying here, waiting for something to happen."
"Are they in pain?" Pariah asked.
"I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "Mostly they are just...bored. Zariel tried to heal their leg but its crushed under the rock."
Dejen was squatting down next to the chwinga, studying it with a wide grin while he made notes in the air with his quill. Eberic wasn't paying attention to them, instead keeping an eye out for anyone else who might wander by.
Zariel straightened up and said breathlessly, "I just can't move it."
Bjarnson stood and agreed, "It's too heavy. Ground's too uneven to roll it, though I don't think it would budge even if we all pushed." He looked over at Eberic, "Hey, dwarf, do you think we could break the stone?"
Eberic looked over the boulder with a critical eye before turning his gaze back out to scan the horizon. "With time and a good pick, yes, but that's just going to hurt the creature more. Might even kill it if the pieces fell or rolled wrong."
"But we're going to help them, right?" Lulu said desperately. "I said we'd help them."
"Of course we will," Zariel said, "I just don't know how. Could we dig under the stone?"
Bjarnson probed the ground with his toe. "Ground's frozen. Going to be as hard as the boulder. We could light a fire maybe, be careful not to burn it. But that's going to take time, plus I'm afraid softening the ground might make the boulder shift."
Dejen had continued to study the chwinga during the conversation. Pariah had assumed he wasn't listening, but he said, "Oh, it would be easy to move the boulder. We just need a lever. You can move the world with a long enough lever."
They all stared at him, waiting for him to go on. Realizing he wasn't going to say anything, Zariel asked, "Do you have such a lever?"
"Hmm? Oh I'm not sure," he said.
Pariah sighed heavily. She squatted down next to him and said patiently, "Dejen, let's rescue the chwinga first, OK? Then you can study it all you want."
He looked up at her in surprise, and then back down at the creature as though seeing for the first time that it was in danger. "Oh, yes. Of course. Yes, of course."
Dejen stood to examine the boulder and the ground around it. "We'll need a fulcrum of course. Lever needs a fulcrum. Yes, there! That rock there. That would be a good fulcrum. Put it right there." He pointed at the ground and continued to study the boulder.
Bjarnson and Zariel exchanged a glance, and the big man said, "All right." He fetched the head-sized rock and placed it on the ground where Dejen had pointed. "Now what?"
Dejen was mumbling to himself. Pariah could hear him say, "...long enough to provide the motive force but strong and thick so it won't snap, not too thick of course because it wouldn't fit under..." He made a snapping motion with his hand, though it made no sound because of his fur mittens. "That's it!"
He rushed off down the hill towards the sleds. The group watched him go in a stunned silence.
Zariel said, "Lulu, go with him." The little angel flew down after him.
They couldn’t see him well through the blowing snow, but they could tell he was going through his pack. He snatched something up and then he and Lulu came rushing back up. "Here we go!" he said proudly, holding out the rod they had gotten from the Black Cabin.
"You think it's strong enough?" Bjarnson asked skeptically.
"Well, I'm not sure," Dejen admitted, his enthusiasm flagging a little bit. "I don't know what the material is, but it does seem unnaturally strong. I guess we'll find out. Puroshir."
As he spoke the command word, the rod snapped out into its full ten-foot length. Bjarnson helped him guide it into a hollow space under the boulder and then onto the smaller rock that would act as a fulcrum. The chwinga watched the activity from its position lying on the cold ground.
They all lined up along the pole, Eberic at the nearest end and Zariel reaching up to take the far end. Dejen said, "All right, heave!"
They all put their strength into bringing the pole down but it wouldn't budge. It didn't bend, and Pariah wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She was suddenly aware that if it did snap, it would shatter into fragments that would likely injure them all badly. She wanted to save the creature, but she wondered if this was the best way to do it. Despite her misgivings, she put all of her limited muscle into the effort.
Everyone grunted and strained. "Lathander give me strength!" Zariel said through clenched teeth.
And then they all felt the boulder shift.
It didn't shift much, less than a finger's width, but Lulu was standing behind the chwinga holding it under the arms, waiting for her chance. As soon as the stone moved, she pulled the chwinga free. "I got them!" she said.
Everyone relaxed, and the boulder thudded back down on the frozen earth. Zariel quickly went to the chwinga's side to touch its leg with a finger and say a prayer, while the others looked at each other with breathless grins.
Notes:
To give credit where it's due, the idea that war machines run "on the torture of mortal souls" was from a comment from depizan on my Avernus story. When I described their first experience with a war machine being refueled by a screaming soul coin, he commented, "Oh goodie, it runs on torture." I loved that turn of phrase and told him I was going to steal it.
Geez, Pariah -- making Avarice use three castings of sending to get the message across? Kind of rude.
But seriously, I'd think a sudden contact like that would be disorienting. You aren't likely to know you get only 25 words. I'd think conversations would often be like this.
Chapter 98: Foul Weather Friends
Summary:
With a wounded chwinga in their care, the party decides to return to their original plan to travel to Bryn Shander.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 26, 1496 (10 days after the New Moon)
The dogs raced across the snow as the weather grew worse. By the position of the sun, Pariah estimated that the meager daylight would fade within an hour and they hoped to be at Bryn Shander by then.
Dejen had been insistent that they should head to Bryn Shander immediately to bring the chwinga to Dannika Graysteel. She had learned a lot about the creatures during her studies and he reasoned she would be the best one to nurse them back to health. The chwinga's twiggy leg was clearly fractured and the group's healing magic could do only so much.
Eberic had argued that if the duergar attack on Ten-Towns was imminent, then they needed to get to Caer-Dineval as soon as possible. While the others agreed that the attack was an enormous threat, they tended to agree with Dejen, each for their own reasons. Pariah knew her own motivation was mostly driven by her resentment of Avarice's imperious nature and her reluctance to jump to Levistus's orders.
Although Eberic had been visibly frustrated by the group's decision, he came up with the compromise that they would run the dogs hard to get to Bryn Shander quickly, drop off the chwinga and then continue to Caer-Dineval. It would push the teams, but Bjarnson said the dogs could handle the exertion.
The reason for the speed was the worsening weather. Bjarnson was certain that another blizzard was blowing in and they needed to be in cover by the time it hit. If they stopped in Bryn Shander just long enough to drop off the chwinga -- and that probably meant dragging Dejen away from an in depth conversation about chwinga biology with Dannika -- then he reasoned they would beat the storm.
Probably.
He was at the reins of the team now, encouraging them to race across the snow. Pariah was sitting on the packs, holding onto the railings on either side of the sled. The ground was clear but there was enough unevenness to give them a rougher ride than normal. Visibility was down to only a few dozen feet and she was worried about ambush, but hoped they could outrun anything that tried to attack. Then again, it seemed unlikely that anything could react to their presence before they were out of reach, so they should be safe.
Bjarnson turned and shouted over his shoulder, "It's getting worse faster than I expected."
She had thought the same thing, but she wasn't the local expert so had hoped that he saw it differently. She stood, holding tightly to the rails, and said, "Do you think we'll be able to make it to Caer-Dineval today? Or are we going to have to hunker down in Bryn Shander."
He shook his head. "Normally I'd say we should play it safe and go to Caer-Dineval tomorrow, but I don't know how much time we have to deal with the duergar. One day might make a difference."
"She did say days, plural," Pariah said with little enthusiasm. "But that might mean ten days; it might mean two."
"Exactly," he said. "And we don't know how exactly she's located their stronghold. Even if we can get out there in a day, maybe we'll have to search a mile of mountains to find it."
She wished Avarice had given more information, or that she had a way of contacting the woman right now. She said, "I guess we'll have to see how bad the weather gets by the time we get to Bryn Shander. Talk to the others. Figure it out." She pursed her lips. "Maybe we should have listened to Eberic after all."
"Maybe," he said in a skeptical tone, "but I wasn't about to leave an injured creature out there, and we don't have the knowledge to treat them. It sounds like this woman in Bryn Shander does, though I worry that she sees the chwinga as experimental subjects rather than beings who deserve compassion."
"Yeah, I'd thought of that," Pariah admitted. Their last trip, only Zariel and Lulu had been present when Dejen had met with Graysteel, and Pariah hadn't asked them their evaluation of the woman's character. However, none of them knew how to care for an elemental, so they'd have to hope the chwinga got proper treatment.
She hadn't mentioned it to the others yet, but she also wanted to stop by Copper's and tell him about what they had found in the tower. Then again, they hadn't found anything useful so she wasn't sure the news would comfort him at all. It's not like they could carry on Macreadus's work. She guessed they'd have to skip the visit so they could get to Caer-Dineval before the roads were impassible.
She sat back down and looked back at the other sled that was following close behind. She knew Dejen had both Lulu and the chwinga nestled in his cloak, though the little winter elemental didn't need protection from the cold. As they'd left, he'd been using Lulu as a translator so he could ask the chwinga about the Everlasting Rime. Past them Pariah could barely see the shape of Zariel and Haol taking up the rear.
Pariah trusted that Bjarnson and Eberic knew their way around, but the sameness of the landscape and the poor visibility from the blowing snow made her feel like they were getting nowhere. She knew they just had to reach the Eastway, the wide road east of Bryn Shander. It would be impossible to miss even in a full blizzard, but she'd seen enough magic in her life to be worried that Auril's winter spell would disorient them, leaving them running in circles until they froze to death.
She tried to push those dark thoughts away as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her.
A wave of relief washed over her when Bjarnson finally turned the sled onto the wide, flat expanse of the Eastway. Even without the trail markers, the well-kept road of hard-packed snow was easy to follow. He urged the dogs to run at top speed as the storm grew worse. It wasn't long before the walls of Bryn Shander loomed up before them.
It was the same routine as before: shout up to the wall, enter the opening gate, and answer questions about their identity and purpose. She couldn't see the face of the guard who questioned them so wasn't sure if he was someone they'd met before. His questions were quick and short; she guessed he wanted to get back to the warm fire inside the watch tower. The palisade was moved aside and they headed down the street.
Bjarnson stopped the sled and waved Eberic alongside. "I don't know where we're going," he yelled over the screaming wind. "You better lead."
Eberic looked behind him and shouted, "Dejen." The man, deep in conversation with the chwinga, didn't respond. Eberic slapped him across the back of the head. "Dejen!"
"What?" Dejen said, looking up in surprise. "Oh, we're here."
"Where are we going?"
"Oh, it's just...uh..." He looked around in confusion. Pariah was worried that he had forgotten how to find Dannika Graysteel, but then he got oriented and said confidently, "This way," as he pointed down the street.
They traveled through the empty streets as the light faded. They passed a man struggling to raise a wick on a pole to light one of the lamps along the sides of the street. The wick was shielded but it still flickered worryingly in the wind. She didn't envy him his job.
It wasn't long before they stopped in front of a house that looked the same as every other. They dismounted and Eberic waved them into a circle. "I don't think we are going to make it to Caer-Dineval tonight. We should just put the dogs in the kennels and head to the Northlook. Try in the morning."
"He's right," Bjarnson said. "We'd be fine until the crossroads, but once we turn north there's barely a road there. We might be able to follow the cliff along Lac Dinneshere, but it's going to be a hard slog on us and the dogs." Then, with a nod to the axe beak, he added, "And Haol."
Pariah knew Avarice would be angry, but she didn't really care. Even if the attack was imminent, them getting lost in a blizzard wouldn't save anyone. "I agree. We can head out early tomorrow, get there before sunup, but there's no point in trying tonight."
With the group in agreement, Eberic said, "Then how about me and Bjarnson and Zariel head to the kennel. The rest of you take care of the chwinga and we'll all meet at the Northlook."
"Do you think it's safe to split up?" Dejen asked. "The Aurilites have it in for us."
"I think we'll be fine," Zariel said resolutely. "We just got to town. Even if they plan to attack us in the open, by the time they organize themselves we should be at the inn."
Pariah looked over their supplies. "Can you handle carrying all that to the inn by yourselves?"
"We'll manage," Eberic said. "We'll leave the camping equipment with the sleds. The packs shouldn't be much of a problem"
Zariel and Bjarnson were the two biggest and strongest in the group, and Eberic had the squat strength of a dwarf, so they could probably drag their packs the few blocks to the Northlook.
Zariel asked, "Is the kennel prepared to handle axe beaks? I saw only dogs there before."
Bjarnson frowned in thought as he studied Haol. "That's a good point. They may not be. But then he's not a typical axe beak. I assume he's not as ill-tempered as they can be. And he doesn't eat, right? So he just needs a place out of the storm and they can probably manage that. We'll figure something out."
With that agreed to, Bjarnson and Eberic took the reins of the sleds and turned them back towards the kennels, with Zariel and Haol close behind. Pariah and Dejen headed towards the front door of the house along with Lulu and the chwinga. Since Dejen was carefully cradling the chwinga, Pariah removed a glove to pound on the door.
While they waited for a response, she nodded towards the chwinga and asked Lulu, "What's their name?"
"I don't think they have a name," Lulu replied. "They didn't even seem to understand the question when I asked."
The door opened a crack, just enough to reveal a brown eye peering out at them. A woman's voice asked, "Who is it?"
Dejen replied, "Dannika, it's me, Dejen. I have another chwinga for you." He held up the creature cradled in his elbow.
"Oh, Dejen!" the woman exclaimed in delight. She opened the door wider and said, "Come in! Get out of that awful weather."
They hurried in and she closed the door behind them, struggling a bit against the rising wind. She was a copper-skinned half-elven woman with ash blonde hair that was thinning at the part. She was dressed in fairly drab gray and brown woolen clothing, and wore a scrimshaw pin on her collar that depicted a ring of flowers on a vine.
"Please, this way," she said as she motioned them into the next room. She had a hint of an accent, though Pariah couldn't place it. "Can I get you some tea?"
Dejen said, "Yes, that would be-"
"I think," Pariah interrupted gently, "that we should probably make this a short visit. Between the weather and the need to get back to the rest of our group." She inclined her head towards Dannika and said, "No offense meant."
"Of course not," the other woman said. "I understand. I'm Dannika Graysteel." She raised an inquiring eyebrow at the tiefling.
"I'm Pariah," she said.
"And Lulu," Dannika said to the asteri, "it's good too see you again. Your friend isn't with you?" She automatically looked past them even though there was obviously nobody else with them.
Dejen said, "Zariel and our friends are putting our dogs in the kennel," as he sat on a narrow couch. The couch faced a hearth with a roaring fire that warmed the room. There was a rocking chair and two other chairs with upholstered seats all arranged to face the fire. A curtained doorway led deeper into the house, and the other doorway led back to the entry hall. A bookshelf along one wall held only a few books, with most of the space on its shelves reserved for decorative objects like a white porcelain vase, a couple of small painted portraits in frames, and a shard of blue rock.
Pariah didn't sit down. She didn't want to be rude, but the whistle of the wind across the chimney was making her nervous. On another day she'd be interested in talking to this woman about her research, but for today she mostly wanted to get settled in before the storm got worse or the Aurilites ambushed them.
Dannika was studying Lulu intently. Pariah said, "So this chwinga is injured. We found them trapped under a boulder. It looks like their leg is broken. Can you help it?"
Dannika turned a sardonic look on the chwinga. "Oh, so you're hurt," she said skeptically. "Really. Show me."
Pariah was surprised by her harsh attitude, and started to wonder if leaving the chwinga in her care was a good idea. Dejen seemed equally confused as he said, "Their leg is broken. Look, right here it's...well that's odd."
"What's odd?" Pariah asked.
"Their leg. It was clearly bent wrong before, but now it looks fine," he said in bafflement.
The chwinga leapt out of his arms, flipped in the air and landed on the ground on both feet. They then scurried across the room and climbed up the bookcase to investigate the knick-knacks on the shelves.
"But...but..." Pariah stammered.
"They do that," Dannika said with a wry grin towards the creature. "I've had them fake being sick or injured before."
Lulu giggled. "She's right. They were never hurt, never trapped. They heard us coming and decided to play a joke."
"How do you know that?" Dannika asked.
"I can talk to them with my mind," Lulu explained. "Well sort of. They don't really talk like us."
"Really," the woman said in wonder. "You didn't mention that last time you were here. You could be a great deal of help to my work!"
"Well, we aren't staying in town," Lulu said uncertainly. "We're going to leave as soon as the storm lifts."
"Oh," Dannika said in disappointment. "Could you maybe stay in town a day or two? I've been studying them, their biology, their magic but it would help if I could actually speak with them and see if they understand the forces at play in the Everlasting Rime."
"I don't know. I don't get words from them, just feelings and impressions. I don't think they'd answer any serious questions."
Pariah added, "And we really do need to leave as soon as possible. Maybe we could come by when we are next in town."
"All right," Dannika said gloomily, watching the chwinga intently study a copper coin it had found on the shelf.
"What about the other one I brought?" Dejen asked looking around. "Did you find out much from them? Where are they?"
"It's long gone," she said with a wave of her hand. "When I manage to get one here, it disappears after a day or two, even if I've caged it."
"Caged?" Lulu asked suspiciously.
"It's not as bad as it sounds, and it's not something I wanted to do. I'd never hurt one of them. I just wanted to be able to study one for a while. I planned to give it freedom. It was more like kenneling your dogs than locking up a prisoner. But it didn't matter; when I have one, it just disappears through the locked door. I don't know if they can teleport or phase through objects or if they went to some elemental plane or have some other means of travel. They stick around until they are bored and then they leave."
Pariah wasn't sure what to make of her. She didn't seem cruel, but she didn't seem particularly caring either. Pariah remembered Sylvira's brusque approach to her previous pact with Levistus, such as the somewhat humiliating examination Pariah had endured as Sylvira had documented the writing on her body. The other woman just hadn't cared about Pariah's feelings. Dejen certainly could get distracted by his scholarly pursuits, but he also had a streak of compassion; Pariah wasn't sure she could say the same thing about Dannika Graysteel.
Pariah asked, "Have you found out anything that helps you understand the Everlasting Rime?"
"I've made some progress in documenting how they manipulate natural forces, though the effect is quite localized. They have an innate connection to elemental climate that can change with their environment. The only other chwingas found are in the jungles of Chult, and it's theorized that they migrated here by stowing away with travelers. If that's true, that means they adapted from a tropical zone to an arctic zone and might be able to adjust to any other climate. I think, though I don't have enough evidence to prove it, that even the few days they spend indoors with me causes them to adapt to the more temperate climate of my house."
Pariah's brow furrowed as she again asked, "But have you found out anything that helps you understand the Everlasting Rime?"
Dannika hemmed and hawed before saying, "Well, not as such, but I feel like I'm moving in the right direction. If I could better understand their own limited ability to manipulate their environment and scale it up, I might be able to produce effects that could protect houses, neighborhoods, or even entire towns from the hardships of the Everlasting Rime."
So that would be a no, Pariah thought to herself, though she didn't say that out loud. Instead, as she heard something outside come crashing down in response to the gale force wind, she said, "We should really go back to the inn before the storm gets worse. Let's get ready to leave as soon as the storm breaks."
Notes:
I've been looking for an excuse for another chwinga encounter, but I couldn't find a reason for it. It felt like just checking something off a list. This one gives them an excuse to defy Avarice for a day.
The chwinga faking injury was inspired by the Roger Rabbit "Only when it was funny" handcuff scene.
Chapter 99: A Necessary Evil
Summary:
After sheltering from a blizzard in Bryn Shander, the group resumes their trip to Caer-Dineval to meet with Avarice about the duergar.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
The dogs ran full out across the snow in the darkness of the early morning. The blizzard had broken well after midnight, but the wind still tore across their path, obscuring the surrounding terrain. Pariah trusted that Bjarnson knew where he was going as he guided the sled from trail marker to trail marker on their way to Caer-Dineval.
Avarice had sent a furious message to Pariah the previous night, berating her for not being at the castle yet. Pariah had explained that they had diverted to Bryn Shander, though didn't bother saying why, and there had been silence after. By that time, the storm had been in full force and they were hunkered down at the Northlook. None of them wanted to risk traveling in the blizzard so they had waited it out.
Pariah was disappointed they hadn't had a chance to check in on Copper, but they had left early, just after the light of the nightly aurora had faded, and they hadn't wanted to disturb him. They all agreed that they didn't care if Avarice or her master were angry, but they also knew that the duergar and their mysterious weapon were potentially a serious threat that needed to be dealt with quickly. As soon as they were all awake and full of knucklehead stew from the ever-simmering cauldron in the common room, they had fetched the dogs and headed out. They did divert slightly to drive past the former shrine and saw that the new doors and shutters had been installed, which made them feel better.
Pariah kept an eye out as they raced along what could barely be called a road. She had been worried the previous day about being attacked on their rushed journey across the tundra and yet had also realized that the chance of stumbling across an ambush in the middle of nowhere was slim. Here on the road, an encounter was more likely, anything from crag cats leaping out from a snow bank to bandits having laid out a trap across the trail to tangle the sled runners or hobble the dogs.
However, the miles passed uneventfully, and in a couple of hours, the shape of Caer-Dineval castle appeared against the horizon, looking down on the town scattered along the cliff. The dark town was dotted with a few lights, and more shone from the castle's towers and keep.
The sleds were forced to stop by a wooden palisade laid across the road as it entered the town. The new stone wall encircled a third of the outer perimeter of the town, which was quite a bit more than last time. Parts of the wall weren't at their full height, but she estimated it would be done in less than a month. Although the town would be protected from attack, at least from enemies less dangerous than frost giants, it would also make the Black Sword that much harder to dig out.
Pariah saw only a single guard by the palisade, a young human man with dark hair, no cold weather clothing over his leather armor, and a black sword pendant around his neck. She stayed behind Bjarnson with her hood up, trying to hide her identity. She was tired of the superficial friendliness they directed at her, though she had little doubt that Levistus and possibly Avarice knew she was here.
"Morning," Bjarnson said.
"Good morning, traveler," the guard replied. "May I ask your business in town?"
"We are here to see Avarice," Bjarnson said.
Pariah grimaced. She probably would have lied out of habit, though she knew it wouldn't have accomplished anything.
Bjarnson continued, suspicion heavy in his voice, "Are you the only guard here? Sentries are supposed to include members of the town militia."
That had been one of the agreements reached between the town and the castle. Pariah frowned and looked past Bjarnson, leaning towards the side opposite the guard in hopes of retaining her anonymity. She didn't see anyone else nearby, though there was light coming from around the shutters of a building next to the road.
"Oh, she's here," the guard laughed. "The locals find this fine weather a little difficult to bear so she's inside with the fire." He stepped over to pound at the door and yell, "Tesni! Come help with the palisade!"
There was a muffled reply from inside and after a moment, the door opened and a figure came out. As was often true in this climate, Pariah couldn't tell the person's gender or race under all the furs, though the person was the size of a human or similar species and the other guard had said "she". Her coat, leggings and hat were made of brown and gray pelts. She wore goggles and a green scarf across her mouth. The woman didn't look up at the visitors as she hurried over to the palisade and helped move it to the side.
The two sleds and Zariel's axe beak moved past the barrier and continued until the road reached a tee, where there was a sign that bore the words "Uphill Climb" written over an arrow pointing to the left. Bjarnson turned the dog team in the direction of the arrow and started up the road that curved around the top of the ridge, climbing towards the castle.
Pariah had argued that she should see Avarice alone, possibly with Lulu along so Zariel could monitor the conversation. It was easier for her to lie to the woman without others around who might accidentally contradict her story. However, although she had done so before, the others were worried about how safe it was for her to be alone with the wizard. Zariel in particular felt they should meet with her as a group.
Pariah couldn't help but wonder if their real concern was that she'd be tempted back into Levistus's service.
The procession traveled past silent houses with only a few showing lights, or smoke from the chimneys. Pariah recognized the houses belonging to Speaker Siever and Culver. Both showed signs of life, but they hadn't planned to stop at either. They continued around the curve, past the road that led north to Caer-Konig, and up the series of switchbacks that led up the steeper slope past the Uphill Climb tavern, finally stopping at the castle gate.
There were no lights along the top of the castle wall though dim light could be seen coming from the arrow slits on the upper level of each tower. The rail at the front of their sled, enchanted with light by Lulu, lit up the gate and portcullis. Both looked new, showing no damage from the frost giant attack, though there were a few scars in the stone of the wall.
A figure came out of the tower on the left as they pulled up to the gate: a tiefling with pale blue skin wearing a black crystal sword pendant. Pariah recognized Fel, the woman who had greeted them on their first visit. "Good morning," she called down. "Aren't you Pariah's friends?"
"Talona's tits," the aforementioned tiefling mumbled to herself. She knew she wouldn't be able to be anonymous for the entire trip, but had hoped to manage a few more minutes. Reluctantly, she leaned out from behind Bjarnson and lowered her hood.
Fel's face brightened into a smile. "Welcome, sister!" she said with enthusiasm, causing Pariah to make a sour face. The other woman ignored her expression as she said, "Avarice has been quite impatient for your arrival. She said you were to head down to her quarters immediately. Emphasis on the word 'immediately'." She yelled towards the tower, "Open the gate!"
Pariah said, "We thought-" but then was drowned out by the sound of the portcullis going up. She stopped and waited for the noise to stop. When the iron grating was up and the gate had opened, Pariah shouted, "We thought it might be better to meet someplace like Kadroth's office. It's kind of a tight fit getting us all into her quarters."
Fel studied her thoughtfully. "I think she intended to meet with only you."
"Good for her," Pariah said sardonically. "But we are all going to be there, and it's going to be easier if we have a little more space." Moments ago she had wanted to meet with the woman alone, but her stubborn nature immediately rebelled against Avarice's wishes.
Fel debated internally and then called to the tower, "Guntram, come here."
A man came out of the tower along the top of the wall. Fel said something to him Pariah couldn't quite hear. He nodded and then started jogging along the wall towards the other tower. "We'll pass on the message. No promises on her answer. You can wait in the great hall. We'll watch the dogs for you."
Pariah said to Bjarnson, "Go ahead," and he guided the dogs into the courtyard.
She was momentarily surprised that the castle dogs weren't there, but then she remembered that they had liberated the animals when they had freed the speaker and the other prisoners. She was glad to see that the town had kept them as it would limit the cult's mobility.
They parked the sleds near the small building with a slanting roof that had been the kennel. Pariah saw that the soldier, Guntram, had run along the wall and disappeared into the northwest tower, which is where the entrance to the underground area and Avarice's quarters was located.
Zariel dismounted from Haol and said something to him in Enochian; he nodded in response. "He'll watch our possessions," she explained to the group. "Ensure that nobody tampers with anything."
Pariah didn't expect them to, but she knew it was a wise precaution nonetheless. She wouldn't put it past them to damage the sleds or even harm the dogs if there was a purpose, though she couldn't think of a purpose. Levistus didn't seem to want to imprison them; they were too useful to him as agents. Besides, the soldiers could just refuse to open the gates if they really wanted to trap the party in the caer.
They went up the steps and through the double doors into the great hall of the keep. Only a few candles in the chandeliers overhead were burning, so the room was dimly lit. The three long tables were clean of dishes. Pariah heard no activity from the kitchen, though the light of a fire flickered on the edges of the open doorway. She wondered who had taken over the cooking and cleaning now that the servants were gone. The place seemed clean enough, with no food on the floor or dirty dishes on the table, so somebody must be doing the work.
The door on the right wall, which led to the servant's quarters, was open and no fire burned in that room. The door opposite led to Kadroth's sitting room, and it was closed. The town flag that had hung on the wall over the stone staircase at the back was gone. A crude drawing of a black sword decorated the wall in its place.
While they waited, Pariah wandered across the room to peek into the kitchen. Nobody was in there though a cauldron was simmering over the main fire pit. She couldn't smell anything from the pot, though she could smell the goats. She poked her head in the doorway to see them in their cage, one lying down and the other standing up and chewing on something leafy. They seemed in decent health; she'd been afraid the cultists would neglect them.
She turned as she heard a door open. A middle-aged, slightly hunchbacked human man with a thin mustache came out of the sitting room: Kadroth's assistant, Thoob. He gave them a greasy smile and said, "Master Kadroth and Avarice will see you now."
He showed the group through the well-decorated sitting room and into Kadroth's office where two tieflings waited for them. The walls were lined with shelves of books and closed cabinets; Pariah idly wondered if there was any information on Netheril here, though doubted it. Avarice would have claimed any such references.
Kadroth sat in the high-backed chair behind an ornate desk, his hands folded over his bulging belly, and a pipe held between his teeth. His skin was darker blue than most of the Levistus tieflings Pariah had met so far, and his graying hair was combed to cover the slight bald spot he was developing. He was dressed in good quality clothing that was completely unsuited for the chilly temperature of the room. He greeted them with an empty smile as his suspicious eyes locked on Pariah.
The other tiefling, Avarice, stood by the left wall near where Eberic had found a hidden door that led to the adjacent tower. Her skin was chalk white. Her hair and the pale horns that curved around the sides of her head were only slightly darker than her skin. Her eyes were solid blue, a stark contrast to her pale face. She was dressed in cashmere and leather, and carried a staff of blue-green wood topped with a black chardalyn orb held in a silver cage. Her raven familiar was not present.
"It's about time!" she barked at Pariah. "The duergar attack is imminent and you waste time on distractions."
Both of them were focused on Pariah and didn't acknowledge the presence of her companions. Pariah kept her temper, saying levelly, "Well, we're here now. What have you found out?"
Avarice scowled at her. "You first. What did you find at the duergar outpost?"
Pariah had prepared this story the night before. The last time she had met the wizard, she had hidden their plans to investigate the Netherese tower by claiming they were going back to the outpost north of Caer-Konig. Smoothly she said, "There wasn't anything to find. We had sent a message to Dwarven Valley about the duergar outpost and their soldiers had already searched the place and stationed a small force there. They've increased their patrols around Kelvin's Cairn but haven't found anything concrete, though one patrol found some tracks. We followed up and searched a few of the caves on the north face, but found no evidence of the duergar. We had planned to talk to the guard captains in the western towns to see if they have had any mysterious incidents that might be duergar activity, but then you contacted me so we came here."
"Eventually," Avarice sneered.
"Eventually," Pariah said sweetly. "And that's it. Nothing useful I guess."
Avarice's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And that's all you found?" she demanded.
Pariah kept her outside demeanor calm as her heartbeat jumped. She knew it was a common interrogation tactic to pretend you knew more than you did to lull the target into talking. Then again, Avarice had access to flying servants and divination magic so might have been spying on them all along. "That's all we found," Pariah confirmed, holding the other tiefling's gaze firmly. "What about you? You say you found the duergar base?"
Avarice continued to stare at her silently, her fingers drumming along the sides of her staff. Pariah kept her expression carefully neutral, hoping that none of the others were looking guilty. Luckily, the wizard had eyes only for her.
Finally she said, "Yes." She stepped forward and tapped the top of the desk. "Map," she snapped at Kadroth.
"I beg your pardon," he said in a scandalized tone.
"Map!" she said more loudly, slamming her hand on the desk and glaring at him.
He puffed up defiantly but then quickly wilted under her gaze. "Yes," he mumbled, "it's right here."
Kadroth pulled a parchment out of one of the cubby holes under his desk and rolled it out on the surface, placing a silver inkwell and a scrimshaw paperweight down to hold it open. The group stepped forward to look down at the document.
It was a different style than the map Pariah had gotten at Candlekeep, and showed only about half the total area. It barely showed any of the Sea of Moving Ice to the north and didn't extend to the Reghed Glacier to the east. However it did show a stretch of the Spine of the World mountains to the south. A river ran down from the mountains to flow into the Redwaters, the southernmost of the three lakes in the region. The duergar prisoners had said the fortress was near that river but that was still miles of mountain to search.
Avarice picked up a fountain pen off the desk, dipped it in the inkwell, and leaned over the map. She studied it carefully before marking an X on a spot along the southern slope of a ridge. "Here," she said. "It's built into the side of the mountain, but you can see light coming through the arrow slits and there is an unnaturally flat area on the top."
Pariah stepped back to let Bjarnson and Eberic get a closer look. They were the explorers so were the best ones to translate a mark on a map to a place in the real world. Dejen was looking and Lulu was standing on Bjarnson's shoulder to get a view as well, but Zariel had kept her distance and was watching Avarice and Kadroth cautiously.
Eberic said, "So it's right at the center of this arc?"
"No, it's further along." She tapped impatiently near the X she had drawn. "Here, where I marked it."
Bjarnson traced a line. "We could follow the river to here, then go to this point on the ridge, and follow the slope back here."
Avarice frowned. "Seems like a long way. Why not just go here?" She traced her own line. Pariah couldn't see the details of what they were plotting, but trusted Bjarnson and Eberic to figure it out.
"On a clear day in good weather, sure," Bjarnson said, "but we haven't had one of those in two years. This route is longer but we won't get lost."
Eberic scowled at the map. "Many-Arrows patrols along that path sometimes, though looking for game rather than people. We'll have to keep an eye out."
Zariel asked, "Is this their territory?"
"Depends on who you ask," he snorted. "They think the entire mountain range is their territory. The dwarves and Ten-Towns disagree."
"But if they are looking for game, they won't attack us will they?" she asked.
Eberic and Bjarnson exchanged a glance. The big man said, "A few years back, maybe not. But everyone's pretty hungry and desperate. Sleds carry food and other supplies. And dogs are just meat to them. So, yeah, they are likely to attack us."
"I see," Zariel said in disappointment. "Perhaps they can be convinced to see reason, especially since the duergar will mean them harm as well."
The two men again exchanged a glance but said nothing.
Zariel turned to Avarice and asked, "You said the duergar attack was imminent. How imminent?"
"I don't have an exact time, but I know their weapon is nearly done. Once it is, they will march. At the very least, the southern towns are likely to be put to the torch. The big towns like Easthaven and Bryn Shander might be able to hold them off, but Dougan's Hole and Good Mead would be wiped out."
"Do you know what this weapon is?" Pariah asked. She knew the soothsayer had talked about it but, like all prophecy, she had been vague. Pariah couldn't imagine how a single weapon would make a difference to an army.
Avarice pressed her lips together tightly. "No," she admitted. "We have determined that black chardalyn is a critical part of its construction, but that just means its magical. I assume it is some kind of massive siege engine, though I don't know how you'd get such a machine through the snow. That's what you'll have to find out. I don't expect you to defeat the entire duergar army, just to find out what this weapon is and destroy it."
Pariah frowned, not liking that the woman was giving orders, but she also wasn't wrong about their goals. She asked Bjarnson, "Can we get there today?"
"I wouldn't recommend it," he said with a shake of his head. "It's nearly a day's travel to get there. We could do it but it would exhaust us and the dogs." The, as he remembered, he added to Zariel, "And Haol." He continued, "Besides, the weather is ugly and I'm pretty sure it's going to get worse before it gets better, so let's camp in the warehouse for the night and leave first thing."
Avarice harrumphed but didn't voice an objection.
Kadroth said, "You are welcome to stay here. Lord Levistus has instructed us to treat you as honored guests."
"I think not," Pariah said firmly. She didn't believe the Black Sword would actually try to hurt or imprison them, but she didn't relish spending the night among devil worshipers. Besides, now that they had the warming stone, sleeping in the warehouse should be more comfortable than before.
"As you wish," Kadroth said cheerfully, clearly happy they weren't staying.
"Don't dawdle," Avarice cautioned them. "Leave early. For all we know, the duergar have already started to march. I will contact you twice per day to monitor your progress: sunup and sundown."
Pariah didn't like the idea of reporting to the woman, but there wasn't much she could do about it. "Fine," she said, keeping most of the irritation out of her voice.
Notes:
I said a while back that I had moved the duergar fortress to Cackling Chasm. I was wrong. I moved something else there, something that didn't make it into the story. I've actually moved the duergar fortress to Id Ascendant, which is not that far from where it's supposed to be but makes future events more sensible. Because of that mistake, I had to go back and tweak on a couple of sentences in previous chapters because I described the wrong location. It's nothing anyone needs to go back and re-read, and nobody is going to notice an inconsistency from nearly 40 chapters ago, but I thought I'd mention it.
Chapter 100: Lies and Tricks
Summary:
The group rests in Caer-Dineval before heading out to find the duergar base before the gray dwarves can launch their attack on Ten-Towns.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
After they left the castle, Pariah started to wonder if they really should wait until the following morning to leave. It was still fairly early in the day. She had agreed mostly to defy Avarice, but she didn't want her own pride to endanger Ten-Towns. However, even as they guided the sleds down the curving road that led through town down to the warehouse by the pier where they planned to camp, a torrent of hail started to pelt them. The dogs and Haol ran through the sheets of ice pellets as the ground quickly became treacherous. The storm wasn't painful or dangerous, certainly not as bad as the rains of stones or acid she had experienced in Avernus, but it was weather that wasn't conducive to traveling.
The buildings had been built to withstand the intensity of Icewind Dale weather so, once they got inside the main storage area of the warehouse and closed the large loading door, they felt safe from the storm. The storage area was a little drafty but the office was cozy, if empty of furniture. Bjarnson took out the warming stone while they built a fire in the oil stove, and once the room was warm he moved the stone out into the area where Haol and the dogs would stay. This let them keep the door between the office and the storage area open.
The hail hammered the building periodically over the next several hours and the wind never died. The daylight, such as it was, came and went and the sky still spat ice at them. The moon rose shortly after dusk, nearly full now, and bathed the area in yellow light.
Bjarnson made lunch as usual. To give him a break, Pariah thought about suggesting that the others go eat at the Uphill Climb for a change. She'd stay behind because she doubted she was welcome there. However, she knew they wouldn't go without her, and they wouldn't have bothered braving the bad weather even if they had agreed. Plus he clearly enjoyed cooking, and she certainly liked his meals more than anything she'd eaten in a long time.
The hail stopped around three in the afternoon. At first they thought it was another brief lull, but after an hour with no more hammering on the roof, it seemed like the storm was over. The wind still raged but even that seemed to be calming. She hoped that calm would hold until the next day. They had decided that, good weather or bad, they would travel to the duergar fortress tomorrow.
Pariah was sitting on the steps that led down from the office into the warehouse, in the slight gap of coolness between the warmth coming from the stove in the office behind her and the warmth of the magical stone in front of her. She liked the strange contrast. If she sat up straight, the air was chilly, but if she leaned forward, her face became warm as she passed the edge of the zone of heat provided by the stone.
She was watching Bjarnson brush the dogs while talking to Haol. She couldn't hear what he was saying, and she knew the axe beak couldn't understand him. Zariel had explained that he could understand speech, but only Enochian. Haol gave Bjarnson his full attention, his head cocked slightly. The two of them had bonded pretty quickly. Haol might technically be a celestial, but Bjarnson treated him like an animal. From someone else that might be insulting, but coming from a worshiper of nature like him, it was a high compliment.
The others were inside the office. Dejen was working on his mechanical man. Zariel and Eberic were talking, though Pariah wasn't paying attention to their conversation. Lulu had been flying from place to place in the warehouse, since she tended to get bored. At the moment she was sitting on the back of one of the dogs that was sleeping near the warming stone.
Pariah felt someone behind her and looked up to see Zariel standing there. The blonde woman said, "Since the storm seems to be diminishing, I'm thinking of going to the speaker's house to ask for the latest news. Ensure that the Black Sword are not creating trouble."
Pariah started to ask if she wanted company, but stopped herself. The speaker hadn't been hostile to her but she'd grown to accept that the town was suspicious of her kind, and she had to admit that the presence of the cult meant there was good reason for their caution. There was no point in her complicating the situation with her presence. Instead, she said, "That seems like a good idea. Someone should probably go with you, in case the Black Sword does make trouble."
"I had thought the same," Zariel replied. "I think we can walk these streets safely, unlike some of the other towns, but I agree we should not go anywhere alone. Eberic has offered to accompany me and I thought I'd take Haol."
The door behind them, the one that led to the outside, suddenly crashed open. Pariah turned without urgency, assuming the wind had blown it open, but then she heard a familiar voice demand, "What in the Nine Hells is that?"
Avarice stood in the doorway, pointing at the construct Dejen was tinkering with.
Talona's tits, Pariah thought to herself while trying to maintain an outward calm. She could sense everyone in the room starting to panic as they searched for words, so she stood and said nonchalantly, "We don't know. It's some kind of clockwork thing we found when we were hunting duergar. My guess is it's an elaborate toy."
Avarice entered the room and started examining the construct. "Where did you find it?" she demanded.
The door was still open, letting in the icy wind from outside. Everyone else was standing frozen, unsure how to react to Avarice's presence. Pariah walked over to close the door, which put her behind Avarice. She made a calm down motion to the others as she mouthed, "Relax."
To Avarice she said, "A cave on the north side of Kelvin's Cairn. We noticed an opening about fifty feet up and climbed up to investigate. Instead of duergar we found this. No bodies or bones or anything so I don't know how it got there. Dejen's been able to get it moving a couple of times but it always breaks down again. It doesn't really do anything even when it's working."
"I want it," Avarice said decisively.
Pariah bit back a sarcastic response and asked, "Why?" in an innocent tone.
"Because it's Netherese."
The atmosphere in the room was already strained, but the tension rose perceptibly. Pariah hoped Avarice was so focused on the artifact that she didn't notice. Casually she asked, "What's that?"
Avarice straightened up and gave Pariah an appraising look. "Nothing important," she said with a forced lack of passion. "It's just an interesting art piece. I'd be happy to buy it off you. Shall we say fifty dragons?"
"I don't think so," Pariah replied sweetly. "Dejen likes playing with it. I think we'll keep it."
A flash of anger passed over Avarice's face. Frustrated, she said, "Fine, a hundred dragons."
"I wasn't negotiating," Pariah said firmly. "It's not for sale. Now, did you come here for a reason?"
Avarice took a step forward to glare down at Pariah. "I want it," she said through gritted teeth. "I can pay you or I can just take it." Dark energy swirled around the black chardalyn gem mounted on her staff.
Everyone in the room was on their feet now. Pariah maintained a calm demeanor but her thoughts were racing. Avarice was a powerful spellcaster, but it was a small room and there were five of them. Six if you included Lulu; seven if you included Haol. A lot of the wizard's spells would be difficult to use in such close quarters. If they could pile onto her, they could hold her arms and cover her mouth to make it impossible for her to use her magic; Pariah knew that from personal experience.
Plus she had to believe that Levistus wanted her alive.
"No," Pariah said firmly. "And I think it's time for you to leave. If you want one of these, go look for yourself." Her hand reflexively reached for her hilt, but her sword was in its scabbard, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. She couldn't summon it to her hand like she used to be able to.
Avarice studied her through narrowed eyes, obviously doing her own mental calculations about how the next few seconds were likely to go. With a sneer she turned her head towards Dejen. "What have you discovered about this construct?"
Before he could answer, Pariah said, "No. We're done here. Maybe if you'd been nicer, we'd talk, but it's time for you to leave." She didn't know if Dejen could maintain the deception. She was afraid that in his enthusiasm, he'd blurt out their secrets without thinking.
Avarice glared down at her again and hissed, "Someday you will not have his protection, and you will regret defying me."
Pariah was intimidated by the threat, though she continued to mask her feelings. "Sweetheart, I've literally been to Hell and stood my ground against devils twice your size and power. Bel, the current ruler of Avernus, held me in one claw while he decided whether or not to kill me. He didn't scare me, so don't think you can. Final warning: get out."
Obviously that was a lie; she'd nearly pissed herself when she'd come out of her contact with Levistus to see Bel's face twisted in rage as she dangled in his grasp.
Avarice's anger swelled and Pariah started planning how she'd rush for her weapon if Avarice began a spell, but the other tiefling pushed past her to fling open the door and storm out into the blowing snow.
Pariah blew out a breath and shut the door again. She turned back to the group and said sardonically, "Well, that was fun."
"You handled it well," Zariel said as she sheathed her sword.
"I guess," she said dismissively. She frowned as she waved towards the construct. "I don't know how she knew about that. Maybe her familiar was watching us." She looked around the room, but there was nowhere the raven could hide. She had assumed the raven was an actual bird, but she realized it might be an imp like those that Thurstwell Vanthampur had controlled. They could change form and turn invisible. "From now on, we need to assume she's always watching and listening, especially when we are in town. And it wouldn't surprise me if she tries to steal that." She motioned to the construct. "But maybe she'll get distracted searching Kelvin's Cairn for more artifacts."
Dejen said, "But we didn't find-"
"Always watching and listening," Pariah interrupted him sharply.
He stood there with his mouth open and then looked around anxiously. "Yes, maybe she'll find another construct like the one we found in Kelvin's Cairn."
Pariah rubbed her face tiredly. "So what were we saying before she burst in?"
Zariel said, "I had planned to go talk to Speaker Siever to see if he has any news, but perhaps that should wait."
"No, I think that's a good idea," Pariah said. "I want to know what the Black Sword has been up to." She looked towards Bjarnson, who was standing in the open doorway leading to the warehouse. "I think we should harness up the dogs in the mean time. Let's not spend the night here. Let's go to Easthaven."
Bjarnson scratched his beard. "I agree we should leave, but let's go to Good Mead instead. We'd have to pass through on our way to this fortress anyhow and it will save us time tomorrow."
"That's an even better idea," she said.
She and Bjarnson started harnessing the dogs as Zariel, Eberic and Haol headed out to make the trip to the speaker. Dejen reluctantly started folding up the mechanical man into the small box he could become. They loaded the sleds, doused the fire in the stove, and then headed out to join Zariel at the speaker's house.
The wind seemed to be subsiding, which was a good sign, and the nearly full moon illuminated the town in ghostly light. They climbed the curving road up from the pier, past the turnoff that led south, and continued until they saw Haol standing alertly outside the speaker's house. As they neared, the front door opened and Zariel and Eberic stepped out. The speaker, standing in the doorway, gave them a polite nod before closing the door.
"So?" Pariah prompted.
Zariel wore a worried frown. "He said the Black Sword has been living up to their agreement. In fact there was a gnoll attack three nights ago. He said that Avarice herself came out from the castle, flying over the town militia as they gathered. She reached out and a sphere of darkness enveloped the attackers. Their horrified screams rang across the entire town while Avarice watched with a cold smile. Then, as the screams faded, she dismissed her dark magic and returned to the castle. The gnolls had been ripped to pieces, and their faces were frozen in terror. None of the militia wanted to go near them. Several Black Sword soldiers volunteered to drag the bodies into the wilderness and leave them for the animals. Speaker Siever is...concerned about their intentions."
Pariah snorted. "He isn't the only one." She wanted to add a comment that she hoped to wipe out the cult when they had solved some of the area's other problems, but stopped herself as she looked around to see if any ravens were listening.
Zariel wasn't so reluctant to speak. "I told him we would protect him and the town if the Black Sword made trouble." Hesitantly she added, "I suppose I shouldn't have spoken for the rest of you."
"Oh, I think we all feel that way," Pariah assured her. To be fair, she wasn't sure they did all feel that way, but she was trying to be more reassuring than accurate.
Zariel put a foot in a stirrup and swung herself up into Haol's saddle. "Let's get out of here," she said as she started trotting down the road in the direction they'd come from. It took a bit of time to turn the sleds around in the narrow streets, but soon the expedition was on their way out of town.
They traveled south along the now familiar road that led to the spot where the Eastway cross the cruder roads that led north and south. When they reached the crossing, rather than turning left towards Easthaven or right towards Bryn Shander, they continued south into territory that was new to Pariah.
The path here was better marked than the one to the north. It wasn't wide and flat like the Eastway, but the road did cut visibly through the snow as it led them south between pairs of wooden tripods that marked the route. Bjarnson was driving the sled that was leading the way. Pariah stood behind him with Lulu looking out from her pocket. Eberic and Dejen followed in the other sled, and Zariel brought up the rear. She didn't range to the side; Pariah guessed that's because the wind was lowering visibility.
After about an hour, the wind started to subside. She could see glimpses of the moonlight shining off the ice of a frozen lake stretching to their left. She tried to remember the map. She leaned forward and asked in confusion, "Is that Lac Dinneshere?"
Bjarnson turned his head to say over his shoulder, "No, that's the Redwaters, though it's connected to Dinneshere by a fairly short stretch of river. Easthaven sits right on that passage and used to get some of the traffic between the two lakes before the rivers froze up."
She nodded as she remembered the third lake on the map. There were two towns along its shore. Good Mead was one, but the name of the other escaped her. She leaned forward to ask Bjarnson, and then realized she could see a scattering of buildings through the blowing snow ahead.
There were maybe two dozen run-down houses clustered together around a larger building situated at the head of a pair of piers that stretched out over the ice. Both piers had been buckled by the ice, and two boats were solidly locked into the frozen surface of the lake. If this was a town, it made the village of Caer-Konig look like a bustling metropolis.
The road abruptly turned away to curve around the town, giving it about a quarter mile's berth. A snow-covered sign at the edge of the buildings read "KEEP OUT" in letters large enough to read at this distance. She could see no movement, no lights and no smoke from any of the chimneys.
"Is that town abandoned?" she asked.
Bjarnson turned to study the silent tableau. "Dougan's Hole," he said. "And nobody knows. They were pretty insular and stand-offish even before. Didn't trade. Didn't welcome visitors. Didn't marry outside of their clan. Supported themselves with hunting and fishing. Since the Everlasting Rime, though, they've gone completely quiet. I've heard that anyone who investigates the town disappears. Stories range from ghosts to zombies to good old-fashioned cannibals." He shrugged. "Or maybe they just all froze to death."
"You don't sound very concerned," she observed.
He grunted as he turned his gaze back forward. "I don't mean to sound dismissive, it's just that they've never really been part of Ten-Towns. Them going quiet hasn't changed anything. And I don't know if the stories about people disappearing are true, but nobody's willing to risk finding out."
It wasn't long before they came around the curving road to see the far side of town where, next to another "KEEP OUT" sign, an irregular triangle of gray stone columns surrounded a larger stone in the middle. "What's that?" she asked pointing.
He didn't even look. "The Twenty Stones of Thruun. Nobody knows what it is. It's apparently been there since before the town was founded. The Reghedmen don't know. The goliaths don't know. It's just always been there. Couple of sages came out to examine it about five years ago, but didn't figure anything out. It might be a shrine to an ancient god, long dead. It might be an art project."
The road turned again, this time following the shore of the lake. She turned and watched the stones disappear behind them as the dogs continued to move forward. She could see Dejen in the sled behind them also looking back at the stones and scribbling in the air with his magic quill. She grinned as she turned back forward.
The sleds followed the curve of the lake, eventually reaching a large forest on their right. The snow-dusted evergreen trees had the same spindly, sickly look as the other ones they'd seen. Snow fell off one of the scrubby bushes that filled the spaces between the trees. She stared at the space, looking for movement, but everything was still. If something had been there, it must have been small like a fox or a hare. Then again, considering the animal spies they'd seen, that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous or a sign of trouble.
"I saw something move in the forest," she said to Bjarnson.
He nodded. "I did too. Might be nothing. Might not."
She bent down to fetch her bow and lean the quiver up against the frame of the sled. She nocked an arrow but didn't draw it as she watched the moonlit forest for movement. Nothing stirred. She occasionally looked out over the frozen lake and at the land ahead, but kept most of her attention on the woods.
However, nothing happened and it was only about an hour until Bjarnson announced, "Here we are! Good Mead."
Notes:
Chapter 100! In Avernus, I was nearly done. For this story, I estimate I'm halfway, though it's hard to predict. The rest of the module is more focused (meaning "railroady") so there won't be as much wandering around. That means it might not be as long as I think. But we are just starting the third of seven module sections, so there's still a lot of story to go.
I've swapped the positions of Dougan's Hole and Good Mead for reasons that will become clear later.
Chapter 101: Flowers in the Wasteland
Summary:
The party arrives in Good Mead to spend the night before heading out to find the duergar fortress in the morning.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 27, 1496 (11 days after the New Moon)
A small town of squat buildings sat huddled together between the shore of the Redwaters lake and a field of stumps that eventually gave way to an evergreen forest that stretched out of sight. Nearly half the town was dominated by an enormous boxy structure hundreds of feet across that glowed with internal light that spilled out through transparent walls, brighter than the light from the moon above.
"Is that building made of glass?" Pariah asked in wonder.
"It is," Bjarnson said as he piloted the sled down the road. "The greenhouse gives shelter to fields of flowers. The mead hall -- that's the big building there -- houses multiple bee hives. Their honey is used to make mead for the entire region."
The structure he referred to was a two-story building that bore a sign proclaiming "GOOD MEAD" in huge letters. The hall stood in front of the greenhouse and would have been impressive on its own if it weren't outshone by the glass edifice behind it. "That's amazing!" she breathed. "How did they manage that?"
"The original greenhouse was built before the Everlasting Rime. Even that was a miracle, half magic and half genius. And then when the Rime came, they expanded it, more than doubled its size. That was an even bigger miracle, building such a delicate structure in this kind of weather."
Pariah studied the glass structure thoughtfully, her brows knitting together. "How does it survive the weather? One good hailstorm would wipe it out."
He turned to grin at her over his shoulder. "That's because of Thiala . She holds back nature's fury and encourages the natural energies to flourish here."
"She's a nature priest like you?"
"Something like that, though she's been at it longer. She not only gets the flowers to bloom and the bees to thrive, but she has created some kind of barrier around the greenhouse that keeps the weather away. Hail and snow fall to the side and the wind splits to go around it."
Pariah stared at him, unsure if he was kidding her. "If she can do that, I'd think she could build a lot of sanctuaries in Ten-Towns."
"No. It's all she can do to maintain this one. She can't leave the greenhouse. I think she's powering the magic with her own life force." He added gravely, "When she dies, I think the town might die with her."
They passed the outermost houses of the town, which were dark and looked abandoned. These log houses seemed smaller than buildings in the other towns. Their roofs were pitched at less of an angle and their windows were very small. Most of them had carvings of strange creatures with scales and armor plates. They weren't dragons but seemed to be some kind of reptilian monsters.
The main road curved sharply to the left to pass between the mead hall and a kennel. Narrow paths of packed snow branched off the road to wind among the houses. These buildings had light in the windows and smoke coming from the chimneys. The air was thick with the smell of wood fires.
Bjarnson brought the sled to a stop in front of the kennel. The sound of barking dogs came from inside, nearly drowning out the faint fiddle music from the mead hall, and a strange drone underneath it all. Pariah cocked her head, trying to make sense of the latter noise. "Do you hear that?" she asked. "That humming?"
"It's the bees," Bjarnson said as he stepped off the sled and nodded towards the hall. "The back half of the mead hall's bottom floor is blocked off to house all the beehives."
The nearest part of the mead hall was a single-story log building that stretched away from the road until it met a two-story crosspiece. Two chimneys, one at each corner where the two parts of the building met, belched out gray wood smoke. No windows, even shuttered ones, were visible from this angle, though this was the north side of the building so wouldn't have gotten much sunlight even before the Everlasting Rime. Two wooden doors carved with decorative figures were firmly closed against the cold weather, but a sign nailed to one read "ALWAYS OPEN".
"What happened here?" Zariel asked sharply.
She was standing next to her axe beak looking at a stone building down the road from the kennel, on the shore of the Redwaters. It had the sturdy, utilitarian design of a fortress or a barracks. A tower rose from its center and a pair of crows looked down at them from a nest in the steeple. An armored man wielding a flaming sword was painted on the wall next to a sturdy, ironbound door. There were small windows located high up on the wall.
No light came from the windows. The paint on the wall was flaking away, and days of snow was piled up in front of the door. Whatever it had been, it seemed abandoned now.
"This is a shrine to Tempus, isn't it?" Zariel asked. "Why has it fallen into such disrepair?"
Bjarnson said, "Worship kind of died out over the years. Tempus was the primary god here decades ago, when Good Mead and Dougan's Hole used to war with each other over fishing rights. It's where the lake got its name; the waters ran red with the blood of the fallen. But the rivalry eventually faded and Tempus didn't seem as relevant. Then as the town's mead industry started, many of the locals turned to gods like Silvanus and Chauntea. The greenhouse is their unofficial shrine."
Pariah turned at the sound of an opening door. A fur-bundled figure came out of the main kennel building and out into the road. "Evening," he said. "Need boarding? Because we're about to break for supper."
He was a human man about Pariah's height. She thought he was a teenager at first, but the gray in his brown beard and the hint of wrinkles around his eyes made it clear he was quite a bit older. He was apparently just short and gangly.
"We do," Bjarnson said. "One night. We're hoping to head out early, possibly very early depending on when you're up."
The man pointed to a house next to the kennel. "If I'm not up, just bang on the door when you're ready." He frowned at Haol. "I'm afraid we don't take axe beaks."
"He isn't an axe beak," Zariel said. "He is a celestial messenger who has taken the form of an axe beak."
"Is he?" the man said skeptically.
Bjarnson chuckled. "Actually, he is. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. Lulu, where are you? He's more likely to believe you than me."
Lulu was in Pariah's pocket. She climbed out to fly up and land on Pariah's shoulder. "It's true," she said.
The man stared at the little angel in wonder before looking again at Haol. "I don't know," he said slowly.
"He doesn't need food," Zariel said. "He just needs shelter out of the weather. He will not make trouble. He cannot understand common speech, only the language of the celestials, but he does understand simple gestures."
The man continued to radiate doubt but then shrugged. "Fine," he grunted. "Suppose it's not the strangest thing I've seen here."
"Good," Bjarnson grinned at him. "Zariel, how about if you and I help get the animals settled. The rest of you, grab our things and head upstairs. The mead hall has a few rooms where we can spend the night."
Pariah and Eberic started to unload the sleds. She realized Dejen wasn't there and she looked around to find him standing in front of the mead hall, staring at the images of scaly monsters carved into the doorway, and making notes in the air. "Dejen!" she called out. He turned towards her with a distracted air. She said, "Help us carry this upstairs."
"Hmm?" he asked. "Oh, yes. Of course." He put his quill away and hurried over. "It's so strange," he said as he picked up one of the backpacks. "I believe those creatures in the carvings are known as thunderers. They are native to Chult so I wonder why there is so much artwork of them here."
Bjarnson said, "A lot of the original settlers were from Chult. You'll find more Chultan art and artifacts in the mead hall."
Pariah pushed away her plate with a satisfied sigh and put her hands over her belly. She had stripped out of her armor at Bjarnson's recommendation, as had the others, though her saber still hung from her belt. The town had a peaceful friendliness to it, but she didn't want to get complacent. Threats lurked in the wilderness and could wander into town.
As that thought occurred to her, she found herself wondering why the duergar hadn't come here. It was the closest town to their fortress. Maybe it was because this town appeared to have no chardalyn of any kind. Maybe it was related to the enchantment that kept the weather away.
The mead hall, unlike most inns and taverns, didn't have a pot of perpetual stew simmering away for guests. Instead, every meal was cooked fresh by the dwarf who ran the kitchen on the second floor, Reirak Rumnaheim. He had auburn hair cut short, and a beard tied in a thin braid that went down to his chest. He wore brightly colored wool clothing and a leather glove on his left hand. He was cheerful, flirty with the women, and gave them all plenty of attention since they were the only guests in the mead hall that night other than locals.
Not surprisingly, nearly every dish included honey such as honey-glazed knucklehead, pumpkin and pine nut salad drizzled with a honey-based dressing, and goat cheese served on honeycomb. In addition, the mead was the best Pariah had ever tasted, with a surprising depth and complexity. He said it had been aged for five years in oak barrels, and that this mead wasn't exported to other towns. "If you want the good mead, you come to Good Mead," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Bjarnson had known him on and off for years, and told the group that his own love of cooking had come from spending time with Reirak. They exchanged a few pleasantries, but the dwarf was busy. Bjarnson promised he'd come back once the dinner rush died down and they could share stories over a few pints of mead.
Dejen had quizzed him about the town's Chultan past, but Reirak hadn't known much about that. He directed him to a local woman sitting at another table, a dwarven cooper named Olivessa, who knew a little about the town's history. Dejen had joined her and her husband, and they had been chatting the evening away.
Bjarnson looked towards the kitchen, where Reirak labored over his stove, and said, "Well, I think I'm going to head down to the greenhouse to say hi to Thiala and her bees."
Pariah wasn't sure if he was joking about talking to the bees or not, but she was suddenly intrigued. She hadn't tried talking to insects. Plus she was curious to meet the woman who was single-handedly supporting the Ten-Towns mead industry with her command of natural forces. "I'll come too, if you don't mind."
"Sure!" he said with enthusiasm.
Dejen looked over from the other table. "I think I'd like to come along as well. There was an apiary in Riatavin that I used to visit. Well, not so much visit as watch from afar. The beekeeper was an irascible fellow. Didn't like visitors upsetting the hives." His brow furrowed. "We won't be upsetting the hives will we?"
Bjarnson chuckled. "Not at all," he said with a wide grin. "It's getting close to evening so the hives will be going quiet soon, though they stir a little in the moonlight. The bees won't bother you if you don't bother them. Zariel? Eberic?"
"No," Eberic said, sipping his mead.
Zariel considered the idea and then said, "No, I think I want to go to the shrine to Tempus and pray a bit. We could use his blessing tomorrow." She stood and started towards the stairs down to the ground floor.
"I'll go with you," Lulu said. Pariah was surprised to see that she looked worried.
Zariel put on her cloak and said, "That's not necessary. It might be best if you stayed here so we can stay in touch if something happens."
"No, I think I should go with you," Lulu said emphatically.
"Very well. You are welcome of course."
Zariel didn't seem to be picking up on the intensity of Lulu's tone, but Pariah did. She waved the asteri over. "Everything okay?" she whispered.
Lulu looked over at Zariel and then back and Pariah. "I'm just a little worried about her. Tempus is...well he's a warrior. And he doesn't really do anything other than fight. And...I'm just worried that he represents the part of Zariel that she's trying to leave behind."
"Oh," Pariah said as understanding dawned. "Do you think it's dangerous for her?"
"No," Lulu said slowly, drawing the word out. "I mean we've seen her fight. She keeps it under control...most of the time. I just...I don't know. I'm probably just worrying over nothing."
Now Pariah was concerned. "I think it's a good idea that you go with her. You can remind her who she is."
They headed to the first floor, where the bar was. The second floor was the restaurant, though of course mead was available there too. Twin fireplaces on each floor kept the building warm. "We're going this way," Bjarnson said to the group, pointing towards the back wall.
Zariel nodded politely at them, and she and Lulu headed out the front door to go to the shrine. The wind outside was calm and only a whisper of cold came in the door before it was closed again.
Bjarnson led them to a door with a sign that said "Hives and Greenhouse", and another sign that said, "No Entry." Pariah gave Bjarnson an inquisitive look and he grinned. "I'm allowed. And you're my guests."
He hesitated, one hand on the door latch. In a more serious tone he said, "Be respectful, though. Don't swat the bees. They'll fly around you but aren't likely to sting you. And don't pick the flowers. This whole thing is in a delicate balance. Any damage, even accidental, could be catastrophic."
"All right," Pariah said, exchanging a nervous glance with Dejen. "We'll be careful."
Bjarnson gave them a firm nod and then opened the door. It led into a small room with a door on the other side and a single lantern on the wall that cast a dim light. There was a bench along one wall and hooks along the other. The room was warmer than the outside, though still fairly cool. The buzzing was louder here, an incessant drone that filled the air.
"Take off your furs and boots," he said as he hung his own cloak on a hook.
"We're going in barefoot?" Pariah asked.
"Not necessarily, though I plan to. Socks or stockings are fine, just not hard soles. And furs are bulky so increase the chance of damaging the plants or bringing in debris." He frowned slightly at her sword. "And you'll have to leave that here. I should have told you to leave it behind."
"I had guessed that already," she said.
"What about this?" Dejen asked, holding up his quill.
Bjarnson tilted his head slightly before saying, "That should be fine. Don't cast any magic through it, though. Well other than your writing."
"I won't," Dejen assured him.
They hung their cold weather clothing on the hooks and left their boots under the bench. Bjarnson and Pariah tucked their wool socks into their boots, though Dejen kept his on. Bjarnson looked them over one last time and then opened the door that lead into the interior.
This led into another small room, but this one had no furnishings other than an oil lamp on the wall. There was a closed door of glass panels in front of them. Pariah actually stopped walking as she caught a view of what was past the door.
A field of bright colors lay before them, seeming to stretch off forever. Against a backdrop of green were explosions of yellow, white, purple and red flowers in clusters. Driftglobes were scattered in the air across the greenhouse, little suns that shone over the fields of flowers. A handful of bees could be seen lazily drifting from flower to flower.
"Beautiful isn't it," Bjarnson said, jarring her out of her reverie.
He was standing by the door, beaming at her and Dejen who was staring through the glass with his mouth hanging open. Seeing his face made her realized that her jaw had dropped as well and she snapped it shut. "It's..." She struggled for words, finally just making a wordless sound of joy.
Bjarnson's grin widened. "It's the most beautiful place in Ten-Towns since the Everlasting Rime started. I should have brought you all here before. I guess I've been here so often I forget that most people have never seen it. Come on, let's go meet Thiala."
He opened the door and a wave of warm air thick with the sweet smell of flowers washed over them. Pariah had just brought herself out of her daze, and now she felt herself drifting back into it. She could stand here and breathe the air forever. The scent made her heart feel light and joyful.
She forced herself into action, following Bjarnson through the door into the greenhouse. Dejen came behind them, looking around in wonder. Bjarnson led them among paths that twisted their way through the flowers. Although many of the patches of flowers were low to the ground, others grew on bushes that stretched over their heads. The soil was warm and soft against the bare soles of her feet. In addition to the bees that hummed among the blooms, she could see other insects among the plant life.
They could hear a woman's voice humming a cheerful melody up ahead, though they couldn't see anyone through the foliage yet. The song was beautiful, but it also brought up memories of Lythienne, which made Pariah a little sad.
Bjarnson brought them around a large bush covered in pink flowers. "Thiala," he said with a wide grin. "There you are."
Pariah came around the corner to see the woman who was humming. She was sitting cross-legged in a clearing among the flora with her eyes closed, though they opened when she realized she had guests. Her skin was pale, moss green and her hair was the color and shape of pine needles. Her fingernails were brown and bark-like, and her pupilless eyes had yellow irises against a blue background, like the sun in the sky. She was wrapped in leaves and vines, though it wasn't clear if they were clothing or part of her body. "Bjarnson," she said in a gentle voice. "It is so good to see you." She stood to greet the visitors.
"You're an eladrin!" Pariah said accusingly.
The woman looked startled. "Well...yes," she said slowly, her forehead furrowing in confusion.
Pariah realized that Bjarnson and Dejen were staring at her. Dejen was puzzled, and Bjarnson seemed offended.
Realizing that her tone had been unkind, Pariah forced an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry. That came out a little harsh, didn't it? I've met only one eladrin in my life. He was a little... Well, let's say, he left an impression."
"I see," the woman said with a smile. "One of us does not speak for all of us."
"I know," Pariah assured her. She certainly hoped all eladrin weren't like Smiler the Defiler. "Again, sorry." She held out a hand. "I'm Pariah."
"And I am Thiala," the woman said, taking her hand. Her touch was warm and soothing. "Welcome to my garden." She cast a questioning glance at the third member of the group.
"I'm Dejen," he stuttered. He reached out to shake her hand enthusiastically. "This place is amazing! How do you do it? I mean I know there must be some magic involved, but how can you maintain such a large biome? Is this a ritual you learned yourself or is there some kind of artifact involved. Seeing you are an eladrin, I wonder is it magic from the Feywild? Do you have others assisting you?"
He continued to gush, and Thiala watched him with amusement. He finally ground to a halt and said, "I'm sorry, I guess I'm blathering. This is just an amazing display of natural magic unlike anything I've ever seen, and I have so many questions!"
"So I see," she laughed. "I'm happy to answer as many as I can but, to be fair, I don't know that I can tell you how all of this works. It's all very natural to me, so it's like trying to explain how my heart beats or how my eyes see. Some of what I do is deliberate, but much of it is just..." She waved around her. "...me."
She motioned to the ground. "But please, sit, talk with me. Bjarnson, what have you been up to since I last saw you?" As they sat on the ground, she went to a low shelf by the side of the clearing and fetched a wooden bowl.
Bjarnson said, "Well, other than the usual, I've spent the last month in the company of these fine people, including a couple more who are in town with us, trying to find a way to stop the Everlasting Rime."
She carried the bowl over to a low shrub with needle-like leaves. She knelt down next to it and started to pick brightly colored berries and put them in the bowl. "I noticed the weather cleared briefly. Was that you?"
"It was," he said. "Though it didn't last."
Dejen asked, "Did that disrupt the magic here?"
Thiala stopped picking the berries for a moment. "Yes," she said softly. She resumed her task and said, "While the return of the sun was a great blessing, I was unable to hold back the cold. The greenhouse and hives held the heat fairly well, though I did lose some flowers around the edge of the garden."
"I'm sorry," Bjarnson said with genuine feeling. "We didn't know how it would affect the rest of Ten-Towns."
She stood and brought the bowl of berries to the group. "I know," she said with a sad smile. "And most of the garden endured the sudden change well." She knelt down, placed the bowl on the ground in front of the group, and then settled back on her heels. "Please," she said, gesturing to the bowl.
There were about a dozen or so orange, puffy berries in the bowl. It was hardly a feast, but Pariah had been poor long enough to recognize a "this is the best I can do" meal. "Thank you," she said as she took a berry out of the bowl and popped it in her mouth.
It was plump and juicy, and both very sweet and very tart. "These are great!" she said with genuine enthusiasm as she took another. "What are they?" She'd never seen a berry that looked like them. She wanted about a hundred more.
"Salmonberries," Thiala replied, taking two berries from the bowl once everyone had served themselves. "Also called cloudberries." That name made sense considering their shape.
"Is Reirak still trying to get his hands on these?" Bjarnson chuckled.
"Not any more," she smiled at him. "I think he finally understood how few of them there are. It is better that I put my energy into the flowers and let the bees do their work. Berries take too much out of me."
Bjarnson told her a fairly superficial version of their efforts to find a solution to the Everlasting Rime. He explained that the Summer Star had been the product of ancient magic from a civilization that had existed centuries ago, though he didn't actually say Netheril. He also told her that they were headed to root out some duergar. She was concerned when he told her about the duergar actions in the other towns, especially considering their apparent proximity to Good Mead. She confirmed there had been no trouble from them locally.
Thiala asked Pariah about herself, and the tiefling told her about growing up in Baldur's Gate, figuring the tale of her trip to Hell was kind of a long story for a first meeting. Dejen talked about his own past, including the tale he'd told before about how he'd used the library contained in his magic quill to help cure a crop blight in Riatavin.
The lights from the driftglobes grew dim and turned orange as time passed; Dejen was the one to notice and ask about it. Thiala explained that they simulated natural sunlight, including sunrise and sunset. True night would be here soon, though the moon would be up for most of the night.
Dejen peppered her with questions about her magic and Pariah could see she was starting to get fatigued. Bjarnson finally suggested that they should retire back to the mead hall. It took a bit for Dejen to get the message; Pariah wondered if they were going to have to physically drag him away.
Thiala offered to walk them out. At one point Bjarnson stopped at an intersection of the wandering paths as she turned down a branch. "The exit is this way, isn't it?" he said, pointing down a different path.
"I want to give you something before you leave," she explained.
They followed her through the garden. Pariah started to wonder if this was yet another magical place that was bigger on the inside than on the outside, or whether it was just laid out in a way that made it seem bigger.
She brought them to a small bush that bore white roses. The bush was covered in frost, which puzzled Pariah since the air was warm and none of the plants around it seemed to be affected. It wasn't a huge leap of logic for her to realize that the flowers must be magical.
Thiala reached into the leaves around her body -- Pariah still wasn't sure if they were clothing or not -- and took out a small pair of shears. There was something strangely incongruous about seeing this being of pure nature wrapped in plants holding an obviously manufactured metal object. She cradled one of the white blooms between her fingers and snipped the stem about three inches from the base of the rose.
She held it out to Bjarnson and said, "This will protect you from the cruelties of this unnatural winter."
"Thank you," he said, his eyes wide with wonder as he carefully took it from her.
She reached up to touch his cheek. "Stop by again when you return so I know you are safe."
"We will," he promised her. "And I'll bring the rest of my companions."
"Safe travels."
Notes:
The greenhouse is my own creation. The module apparently assumes these hives of bees go out into -40° weather to find all the flowers that would grow in such a hospitable climate.
In fact nearly everything in this chapter are details I've added: the kennel (and the guy running it), the structure of the mead hall, the dwarven cook, the eladrin druid. I used the town quest as a throwaway story way back in the chapter about the séance in Easthaven.
The rose is a chromatic rose from "Wild Beyond the Witchlight". It protects against cold.
Chapter 102: Arctic Expedition
Summary:
In the dark of another Icewind Dale morning, the group heads out to look for Sunblight, the duergar fortress.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
They left Good Mead early, before the nightly aurora had even faded from the sky. Reirak had risen early to send them off with a hot breakfast of smoked fish in seal oil; a paste of berries, greens, honey and fat; small boiled eggs eaten shell and all; a slab of blubber; and hot, spicy tea with more honey. He also gave them food for their trip: frozen knucklehead meant to be eaten raw, dried moose meat, fermented fish heads, and of course a jar of honey.
Tyrell, the kennel keeper, had also been up early so their teams were ready to go and Haol was saddled by the time they'd finished breakfast. Zariel checked over Haol's tack and gave Tyrell an approving nod. "You did well. I thought you didn't work with axe beaks."
"I don't," he said. "First time. But I used to know horses, and he nudged me when I did it wrong. He definitely doesn't have the typical axe beak temperament." He gave the large bird an affectionate pat. "I'm still not sure what he is, but he's welcome back here any time."
They loaded their gear and headed out of town into the dark, blustery morning. The light show overhead illuminated the land in blue-purple light, but it faded not long after they got started, leaving them in starless darkness illuminated by light magic and Dejen's lantern.
Eberic's sled took the lead. He was more familiar with these southern lands at the foot of the Spine of the World mountains than Bjarnson was, and he's the one who had planned out their route the night before. They'd follow the shore of the Redwaters to the lake's southern point, but rather than turning east they'd continue following it until they reached the Howling River, a warm and fast-moving waterway that ran down into the Redwaters from the mountain ridge where the fortress Sunblight would be found.
Sunblight was what Eberic was calling their destination. Xardorok Sunblight was the name of the leader they expected to find there, and it was common to name fortresses after their commanders. Plus it sounded better than "that duergar fortress", so they had all started calling it by the new name.
Although this route would be a little longer than heading to the fortress directly from the southern tip of the lake, it would eliminate the chance of getting lost in the worsening weather and featureless tundra. The Howling River would lead them to the ridge and then they could travel along the southern foothills until they found Sunblight.
Pariah was glad they had landmarks to follow, but she still felt a sense of dread as they headed into the darkness after the aurora faded and the land was plunged into snowy night again. This was not a road. There would be no other travelers or patrolling guards. Yeti and crag cats were certain to be more common. The group could take care of themselves, but if they got badly hurt or if something happened to the dog teams, they might not be able to make it back to town before they froze to death.
She shook away the negative thoughts. "You survived Hell," she mentally chided herself. "Why are you afraid of a little snow?"
And yet the darkness and the cold and the screaming wind still preyed on her mind.
Bjarnson stayed close to Zariel and Haol, who in turn stayed close to the sled in front. They rode slightly to the side of each other to avoid the spray of snow, not that it made much of a difference since the wind was blowing snow into their faces anyhow. The light of Zariel's and Lulu's magic and Dejen's lamp added a zone of comfort around them, but also hid anything that might be in the darkness outside the small circle of light.
Another advantage of the light spells is that they faded about every hour, at which point Zariel and Lulu would renew them. It gave a sense of passing time that pushed back some of the dreary sameness of the terrain.
It wasn't that long after the first time the spells faded that they reached the Redrun, the river that flowed out of the Redwaters, along the northern foothills of the Spine of the World, to eventually empty into the Trackless Sea a hundred miles to the west.
Of course, "flowed" wasn't really a word to use about the river anymore. It was solidly frozen right down to its bed. The sleds shook a little as they crossed the rough ice and came up onto the other side, turning to continue along the east shore of the Redwaters.
The weather raged around them and visibility was low. Pariah had been skeptical of Eberic's suggested longer route, but she could see the value now. If they'd been traveling cross-country, they'd be going in circles by now. This way the route was clear as long as they kept the lake to their left.
After another couple of hours, they could see open water rather than ice to their left. It wasn't much longer until they reached the Howling River, which flowed turbulently across their path to spill into the Redwaters. Vapor rose from its surface.
"Is that water boiling?" Pariah asked Bjarnson as he turned his sled after the others to follow the river.
"No. The water is warm but not hot. That steam is just because the surrounding air is so cold and dry."
"Is it magical?" she asked. "It just seems strange to see such warm water in this place."
"I don't think so," he said, and then added with a laugh, "though you can never be sure around here. But there are hot springs throughout Icewind Dale. There are a few in Lac Dinneshere and more in Maer Dualdon. This river comes out from crevices in the mountain so nobody's found its source, but I'm pretty sure it's just a hot spring."
The river might be warm, but the air around them was still icy cold. At least the wind was coming from behind them as they turned, so it didn't seem to suck the heat out of them quite as badly.
That made her wonder how well the others were handling the cold. The plan had been to camp once they reached the mountains but they had already been traveling for three hours. She asked Bjarnson, "How are you feeling? Do you think we are safe to wait until the mountains to build a fire or should we stop now?"
He turned to face her. "I feel great," he said, his breath puffing out from under his hood. "I'm barely feeling the cold. I guess it's the rose that Thiala gave me." He pulled back his cloak slightly to show the white rose tucked into his collar, and then he furrowed his brow. "But that's a good point. It's probably worth checking with the others."
Lulu was hanging out of Pariah's cloak pocket watching the landscape go by. She flew around the expedition a bit when she got bored, but the wind was a bit too strong for her so she spent most of the time in Pariah's furs, clearly bored. "Lulu," Pariah said. "Tell Zariel and Eberic we want to stop so Bjarnson can check us over and be sure nobody's suffering from the cold."
"All right," the asteri said.
She sent the mental messages silently. Zariel turned towards them and nodded. However, Eberic made a dismissive wave without turning around.
Lulu told her, "Eberic says he's fine. He doesn't want to stop until we get to the mountains."
Bjarnson scowled towards the forward sled.
Pariah said, "We could insist."
He mulled over the idea and then said, "If it was one of the rest of you, I probably would. But he was a scout. He knows the land and the weather. He knows his limits so I'll defer to him this time."
"He also has the habit of saying he's fine when he's not," she reminded him.
"I know," he admitted, "but I think we'll keep going for now."
After another hour or so, the sky ahead started to lighten in the dawn and she could barely make out a jagged horizon that was either the Spine of the World or the Reghed Glacier; she couldn't see enough detail through the weather to tell which. She wondered if Zariel was going to call a halt to pray at the rising sun as she sometimes did.
"Report!" came Avarice's voice in her mind.
"Talona's tits!" Pariah exclaimed, startled by the sudden telepathic intrusion. Bjarnson turned to her in surprise. She pointed to her head and sighed, "Avarice."
She had been prepared for this moment so had a statement ready. "We're on the Howling River, about halfway to the mountain. We'll rest when we get there and then look for the fort."
Pariah had taken Dejen aside to ask what he knew about the spell, since it seemed to work like his communication stone. He said that, if it were the same kind of magic, each person could speak about two dozen words. If Avarice wanted to respond, she'd have to cast the spell again.
Pariah waited but there was only silence, so the other tiefling must have been satisfied with the message -- or at least not so irritated it was worth wasting the magic to berate her.
The weather got worse as they continued along the river. Pariah trusted Bjarnson to know when it was bad enough to stop, but she was starting to get worried at how poor the visibility had gotten and wondered how dangerous the exertion was for the animals. But again, she knew he wouldn't push them past their limits.
The river eventually reached a high rocky ridge that stretched away northeast. The waterway ran parallel to its left side, but Eberic turned to the right to take them along the base of the steep slope.
Bjarnson said over his shoulder, "Lulu, tell Eberic to find a good windbreak. And don't take no for an answer. We need to warm up. I can make us a shelter, but I'd rather have a mountain between us and the wind."
It wasn't long before Eberic turned into a hollow where the ridge curved inward. The steep, snow-covered slopes formed a protected area a couple of hundred feet across. The wind still gusted in and screamed over their heads, but they were out of the worst of the weather.
Bjarnson said, "Pariah, unhook the dogs. We'll feed them in a bit. The rest of you, get what you need off the sleds. I'll start work on the shelter."
"Are we setting up the tents?" Pariah asked.
"No. I've been working on the magic that lets me move snow. I can built a quick igloo that's going to protect us better than tents."
She made an impressed noise. She wanted to watch him first, but knew the dogs were probably itching to get off the line.
There was a fair amount of loose snow that made it hard to walk, but not enough to be worth putting on their snowshoes. She didn't fully unharness the dogs; that would take too long for a short stop like this. She just unhooked the buckles that attached their harnesses to the main line so they would have the freedom to move around. As she did, she watched Bjarnson work.
He walked a circle about twenty feet across on the south side of the area. He waved his staff like he was cutting wheat and the snow compressed under him, making a solid floor. Then he moved around the perimeter, waving the snow in. It piled up as though shaped by invisible hands, packing itself into walls that grew higher and started to curve inwards. She watched nervously, afraid the whole thing was going to collapse inward, but it held together.
She was done before he was, so she headed for the sleds to get the meat for the dogs. They had stocked up on knucklehead in Caer-Konig and reindeer meat in Good Mead. They didn't plan to be gone for more than a day; if the trip took longer, then they were going to have to hunt. Two dozen working dogs had endless appetites.
By they time she had tossed out chunks of meat for the teams, Bjarnson had finished his structure. It was a perfect dome with a short tunnel for an entrance. "Come on in," he called out from inside. "I can't leave or the whole thing will collapse."
Pariah crawled in along with the others. The only light came in through the entrance, at least until Dejen brought in his lantern. Lulu also lit up a section at the top, leaving the inside brightly illuminated. The walls and floor were smooth and compact, almost like white stone, and the footing was firm and slightly spongy. It had the same tiered structure as the shelter at Waycamp: lowest at the entrance, a shin high ledge around that, and then a higher ledge on the outside. She remembered that the structure would keep the coldest air down low by the entrance, and the warmest air around the outer edge.
Eberic looked around the shelter and made an approving grunt. "I suppose we shouldn't use the warming stone," he said. Despite being out of the wind, the air was still bitterly cold.
"No, it's safe to use it," Bjarnson said. "The snow won't melt."
"Really?" the dwarf said skeptically.
"Yes. It's part of the magic."
Dejen had the box containing the stone and he opened it. Warmth immediately filled the space and everyone started shedding their furs. Pariah eyed the walls, but the snow remained firm and showed no signs of melting.
Despite the warming stone, Bjarnson started a fire with the wood they had brought with them so that he could start heating some tea. While he did that, Pariah passed around her bottle of coffee so everyone could warm up a bit. It was a little early for lunch, but they snacked on the supplies Reirak had sent along.
Bjarnson checked them for the effects from the hours in the cold. Everyone other than him and Pariah were showing signs of hypothermia, and even she was feeling the chill. He said they'd be fine after resting in the warmth, but he was glad they'd stopped when they did. He gently rebuked Eberic for not admitting the cold was getting to him. As a local, and a former scout, he should have known better.
The group talked a bit about their plan once they reached the stronghold, but came to the same conclusion as before: it was hard to come up with ideas while knowing nothing about their target. Avarice had told them nothing other than its location. It might be a small outpost with a half-dozen occupants or a massive fortress holding an army.
They analyzed the soothsayer's prophecy, though that didn't help much.
"The darkness that comes from below." That was probably a reference to the Underdark.
"The army that marches." That worried Pariah a bit. They weren't prepared to fight an army, especially one in a fortress.
"He leads them at the behest of another, though he doesn't know the one he follows." That had led to the most discussion in the group. "He" was probably Xardorok Sunblight, the duergar leader. The rest of it implied that Xardorok was being lied to by whoever he reported to, but that didn't help them much. This hint of betrayal made Pariah wonder if Levistus was behind the invasion, but why would he send her and her companions against the people he was manipulating?
"On a mountain, his fortress." That, at least, was clear.
"Within, the fire of the still-beating heart of a dragon." Colorful but not exactly helpful. The next line, "There he forges the great weapon that will conquer the land" was the greater concern. What was the weapon? How would it benefit the duergar? How could the intruders destroy it?
They didn't talk about the rest of the prophecy, but it gnawed at Pariah. "You must face him, defeat him, for the good of my lord and for the good of Icewind Dale. This path leads to your end, and yet follow it you will, follow it you must. From death will come your life, your victory, his victory."
Everyone had assumed her predicted death was the one in Black Cabin, and the prophecy was vague enough that that might be true. However it also sounded like it linked her death more directly to the fight against the duergar. She'd died once, but that didn't mean she wouldn't die again. Well, of course she would die again -- everyone did -- she just wasn't sure if it was going to be today.
It didn't matter. Even if she had been certain that death awaited her, she wouldn't have turned back. She had a chance to stop the duergar before their invasion killed a lot of innocent people. One death against many was an easy choice.
But, with luck, today was not her day.
She looked at the ring on her finger, at the rising sun engraved in the bevel. She'd never worn religious symbols. Some people thought they brought special blessings or good fortune, but she'd never believed that. To be fair, that's because a religious symbol could be sold for a meal or two and, for most of her life, eating today had been more important than salvation tomorrow. But even now she'd rather spend coin feeding someone hungry than buying a holy trinket or tossing it in a priest's alms box.
Despite her disdain for the immortals and their seeming indifference to the material world, Lathander annoyed her less than some of the other gods. Some of his worshippers -- like Zariel -- were wound a little tightly, but he himself seemed to be a bit more interested in the fate of mortals than some of the other gods were. The sermons she'd heard from lay preachers were more about the glory of life than the doom of sin.
And yet, he hadn't helped Elturel even when one of his own former angels had snatched it from the mortal plane. Not directly anyhow.
Would he care about the duergar incursion? They weren't responsible for the Everlasting Rime that blocked the rising sun. They hadn't destroyed the House of the Morninglord or killed Mishann. They weren't undead. Their actions didn't affect him. Zariel would bring a measure of his blessing, but that didn't mean Lathander would notice them or what they did.
She scowled down at the ring. She knew the gods had other things to do. There were problems all over the world and beyond, problems that fell into his domain. He wasn't a servant to come at their beck and call. People suffered and died, and it wasn't always his duty to intervene.
Maybe she should have prayed at Tempus's abandoned shrine before they left. He might support them as long as there was a good fight involved. Maybe she should ask Tymora for good fortune.
Or maybe she should do it herself. Sometime she thought that asking the gods for help was like asking the Council of Four to fix the leak in your roof. It was beneath their notice and not what they were there for. They took care of the big problems, and individuals dealt with the little problems. And a duergar invasion that could kill hundreds of Ten-Towns residents would be considered a "little problem" on the cosmic scale.
But she couldn't forget that one of the archdevils had sent her and her companions to stop the duergar. Why? What was his interest in this? Were they just in the way of his plans, whatever those were? Or was there something else behind the invasion that merited his attention?
Once more, she was left in the dark. She knew she had to stop the duergar, but she resented that Levistus was manipulating her again. She grimaced as the phrase came unbidden to her mind.
Fucking immortals.
Notes:
It's a coincidence that Pariah managed to speak exactly 25 words (including "Talona's tits" and "Avarice") when responding to the sending spell. I wrote it and then counted it, expecting that the last couple of words would be cut off.
Originally I was relaying messages through Lulu to Zariel to Eberic, depending on Lulu's mental link as Zariel's familiar. And then I remembered that Lulu has general telepathy out to 60', so I rewrote those parts. I've probably done that before.
In a similar vein, I've talked in past chapters about the disorientation from not knowing how much time is passing, yet I remembered that light spells are a good way to mark out the hours. Pariah even commented on that back on their first trip into the wilderness to get the iron shipment from the goblins. Oops. It's hard to keep track of this stuff!
Bjarnson's shelter is tiny hut, which is I homebrewed as part of his arctic druid circle spells. It has a few differences to the real spell, like no light and no heat, but it's a secure shelter, which is important for dealing with the effects of cold.
Chapter 103: Unwelcome Visitors
Summary:
The party has to find a way into the duergar fortress to stop their invasion of Ten-Towns.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
The map had made it look like there was a smooth valley between the ridge that contained Sunblight and the bulk of the Spine of the World to the south. In reality, the terrain was rocky and uneven, and the slope was steep. The ground was covered in snow but protruding boulders and twisting ridges made travel difficult as the dogs and Haol struggled to climb into the mountain pass. The jagged terrain didn't provide relief from the wind that blew from behind them, racing up the slope and finding its way around every rock and hill.
The snow cover grew thinner as they climbed. The sled runners sometime scraped against the underlying rock. Progress was slower than it would have been on clear snow, but still faster than it would have been on foot.
The ridge to their left stretched upwards but was dwarfed by the looming mountains on their right. It was impossible to determine the exact position of the sun, which made it hard to know what direction they were going. However, they knew that as long as they continued along the ridge's base, they would eventually reach the fortress.
Eberic pulled hard on the reins of the lead sled, turning to frantically wave off the others behind him. He pulled the dogs into a wide circle, moving back to pull alongside the rear sled. "I see it," he said. "Let's find a place to leave the animals and scout forward on foot."
They turned and headed back down the slope a couple of hundred feet to a small depression that would provide shelter from the wind. They strapped on their snowshoes and dragged their packs out from the rest of their supplies. At Eberic's suggestion, they also took their crampons though they didn't put them on. Bjarnson started to unhook the dogs, but Eberic said, "I wouldn't do that. When we come back, we might be being chased by a lot of angry duergar and need to make a quick escape. They'll be fine for an hour or so."
Bjarnson gave the dogs a concerned frown and then said, "That's true, I suppose. All right, you go ahead. I'll catch up."
Eberic led the way along the slope that rose steeply to their left. Pariah came behind him and Dejen came next. Lulu was looking out from her pocket. Pariah looked back to see Bjarnson talking to the dog teams, and Zariel talking to Haol.
Eberic reached the edge of the slope where it turned inward and he stopped to peer around the corner. He studied the terrain beyond for a while before pulling back. Bjarnson and Zariel had joined them by this time so he waved them into a huddle.
"Visibility is bad, which is going to work in our favor." He frowned down at his cloak. "I wish this fur was the color of yours," he said with a nod towards Bjarnson, who was wearing his cloak of crag cat fur, "but we should be able to approach the fortress and not be seen until we get close, maybe not at all. I don't see the entrance but I think I see a stairway against the mountain face and that's where we will head. Lulu, do you think you can fly in this wind."
"I think so," she said, though she sounded unsure. "You want me to go ahead and look around."
"Not yet," he replied. "When we get closer. If nothing else, we may need you to sneak in and open the door for us."
"Did you see any soldiers?" Zariel asked.
"No, but they'd be inside the fortress anyhow. I saw some lights that are probably coming from arrow slits."
Pariah said, "It'll be hard to hit anything with an arrow in this wind. That will prevent them from picking us off if they do see us." She had brought her bow anyhow since it might be useful inside the fortress.
"We hope," Eberic said. "All right, let's get moving."
Pariah followed him as he led the way around the corner, into the area in front of the fortress. The ridge turned away from them, curving round into a wide arc that the map showed was about a mile across. She couldn't see much detail about the mountain itself, but the square lines in the cliff face ahead of them stood out even in the blowing snow. It looked like a massive tower built mostly into the rock. There were dots of dim light about halfway up and then another row of them at the top. Along the left side was a series of diagonal lines that certainly looked like a stairway. A wide plume of black smoke rose from the peak of the tower and quickly dissipated in the high wind.
Eberic moved quickly across the snow in that shuffling gate necessary when walking in snowshoes. Pariah felt like eyes were staring down at her and constantly scanned the tower, waiting for arrows or even streaks of fire to head towards them. She listened for the sound of an alarm, but heard only the scream of the wind. Nothing moved on the stairs ahead.
They reached the base of the stairs without incident. They shed their snowshoes and stuck them into the snow bank at the base of the wall. Eberic examined the steps and said, "I don't think crampons will be necessary. These look clear."
The stone steps had a layer of snow and a little frost, but no ice. Like the tower, they had been carved into the rock of the mountain and had walls on each side that reached to her shoulders. They switched back and forth leading up the cliff, each flight set slightly back from the previous one. She couldn't see anyone looking down from the top so she hoped he was right that any guards would be inside. She also didn't see any arrow slits or murder holes looking out on the stairs so they might be out of sight until they got to the top.
Again, Eberic led the way. They were out of the wind here which made the air less bitter cold, but also meant the sound of their footsteps wasn't drowned out, so they remained as quiet as they could. It was a long climb and pretty soon they were all breathing hard. Each flight was fifteen to twenty steps, and she quickly lost count of the number of flights. She looked over the shoulder-high wall and estimated they had climbed less than halfway.
Eberic motioned for them to stop. "Lulu," he said quietly, "here's a good place for you to fly ahead. Let us know if there are any soldiers ahead, what the door looks like, and so on."
"Okay," she said, climbing out of Pariah's pocket.
"Be careful," the tiefling said as the asteri disappeared and flew up the stairs.
They continued climbing and after another couple of flights, Zariel hissed at them from her position at the back. They stopped and closed ranks so they could hear her.
"Lulu says the stairs stop at a short path that leads to a pair of massive stone doors. There is one arrow slit looking out on the path from a guard room. One soldier at the opening who's currently playing some kind of dice solitaire game. He glances up now and then but we might be able to get to the door without him seeing us. There is a lever and a winch inside the room as well as some kind of elevator that goes up and down. It runs continuously and the noise may cover our footsteps. She thinks she could pull the lever, though the guard would see it move. She doesn't think she could turn the winch, but then she's not sure what either one controls."
"Lever probably opens the door. Winch is probably a portcullis beyond the door," Eberic guessed.
"Or a drawbridge like in that outpost," Pariah said.
Eberic asked, "Is there any kind of alarm horn or bell in that room?"
Zariel shook her head. "Nothing she can see. There is also a closed door, and a hall that leads deeper into the complex. She wants to know if she should scout further."
"Have her go down that hall," Eberic said.
They resumed climbing as they waited for a response, until Zariel hissed at them again. "It's very dark inside so she can't see much detail. The hallway leads to a main corridor. She followed it back to the entry room. Nobody is there, but there is another arrow slit inside with a guard looking out at the entry, and she is quite alert. Lulu can hear voices through that slit so she thinks there are several soldiers in there, probably a barracks."
Pariah looked up past the flights of stairs above them to the ledge at the top. "If I can get close enough, and if Lulu can let me know when he's looking away from the slit, I can get inside and take him out."
"How?" Zariel asked, puzzled. "I know you can teleport short distances, but there is nothing but an arrow slit a few inches wide."
Pariah looked back at her. "That's all I need. As long as I can see what's on the other side of the wall, I can pop over there."
"You'll be alone," Zariel reminded her.
"I'll manage."
Eberic said, "I'll come with you. I can't walk through walls, but I can put an arrow in his back once he turns to deal with you."
Pariah nodded. "All right. The key is to be quick and quiet. Once we take him out, we'll decide what to do next."
They continued their climb up the stairs. Eberic stopped near the top to peer around the corner. After a moment he stepped back and motioned Pariah forward. "I wish there was some cover," he whispered.
She took a look. He was right. The path hugged the cliff, but there was no place where the rock jutted out to give a place to hide. There was no wall at the edge of the cliff, but the path was wide and ice free so she wasn't worried about falling. It stopped at a wall of brick the same color as the natural stone. Dim light came from a single slit in the wall. She pursed her lips as she examined it; the slit was dwarf height, so a little low for her to see through. She'd have to remember to crouch down as she approached. She couldn't see anything past it at this distance.
"I can make it," she said, mostly sure that was true. "I just need a few seconds. And even if he sees me, he won't be able to stop me in time." She beckoned Zariel and the woman moved up past the others; Pariah winced at the noise her armor made, but knew it wouldn't be heard over the wind. Pariah asked her, "Does the guard have a bow or anything?"
Zariel looked to the side as she had a mental conversation with Lulu. "He has a crossbow but it's leaning against the wall. It's not loaded."
"Good," Pariah said, feeling better. "All right, let's do this. Tell Lulu to let me know the next time he looks out and then looks back at his dice game."
After a moment, Pariah heard Lulu's voice in her head. "All right, he's playing his game. Just wait. Wait. OK, he's looking out the arrow slit."
Pariah saw a shadow shift in the dim light coming through the opening. "Get ready," she whispered to Eberic as she drew her sword.
Lulu said, "He's looking back down."
Pariah rushed forward, staying low and looking through the gap. It was too narrow. She couldn't see any detail past it. The room was smoky and dimly lit, which made it worse even with her darkvision. She didn't think her teleport spell would work unless she got a good view inside. Frustrated, she kept moving and praying that the duergar kept his attention on his dice.
As she got close she could smell smoke and hear the clanking of metal chains. The latter would help cover the sound of her footfalls; these boots were a little heavy for sneaking around.
She could see something through the slit, a structure of some sort. Finally, just a few strides from the slit, she realized it was a sort of cage of iron bars. Was it a prison cell? It didn't matter. It was the detail she needed to visualize the interior. A swirl of ice crystals appeared in front of her and she disappeared into it.
She appeared in the other room and quickly stopped before running into the iron cage. She whirled around to see a gray-skinned dwarf in dark armor sitting on the floor. Like most of his kind, he was bald with a white beard, though the latter was fluffier than the beards she'd seen before. He looked up in surprise. She stepped forward, her sword slashing down.
"No!" he said, throwing up his empty hands. In thickly accented Chondathan he pleaded, "Me nice. Me nice. Stop. Me nice."
She froze, the edge of her blade just inches from his raised arm, his look of fear dimly illuminated by a nearby brazier of hot coals. With an air of cautious relief the guard said, "Good. You good. You nice." He slapped his chest. "Dreck good. Dreck nice. Okay?"
She could see Eberic on the other side of the arrow slit trying to get an angle on the duergar with his bow, but it was hard with the latter sitting on the floor. Pariah held up a hand to him and said, "Wait." She frowned down at the duergar and asked, "What do you want?"
The duergar looked towards the arrow slit, though he wouldn't have been able to see through it from this angle. He looked back at her and then pointed down the hallway leading out of the room. He gave her an exaggerated smile. "Grandolpha nice. Dreck nice." He made a stormy frown. "Xardorok bad. Grandolpha stop Xardorok." He made a chopping motion with his hand. "You stop Xardorok."
She was about to ask Lulu to translate but Eberic said something in Dethek through the arrow slit. The duergar leaned over until he could see out the gap. Eberic was there and the others had come up behind him. The duergar nodded frantically and began chattering at him in Dethek.
They conversed back and forth, Eberic asking stern questions. The duergar, still sitting on the floor, answered in a tone of desperation. Pariah didn't know what he was saying, but he said "Grandolpha" a number of times.
Finally Eberic said, "He doesn't want to fight. He says we should go find Grandolpha. She'll explain it all. She's our friend but Xardorok is not. The other soldiers will attack us, at least until we talk to her. He will let us in but he won't leave his post. Since most of us can't walk through walls or turn invisible, we'll have to fight the soldiers in the barracks after coming in the front door. There are nine quartered there."
"And he's okay with that?" Pariah asked. "Us killing his friends?"
"They aren't his friends. He's one of Grandolpha's. The ones in the barracks all belong to Xardorok. He's given me a code word to shout that will identify us as her allies to other soldiers, but none of her people are in the barracks."
"So she's planning a coup?" Zariel asked from outside.
"It sounds like it, but he won't confirm that. He just keeps insisting we talk to Grandolpha. He did let slip that Xardorok has gone mad and nobody knows why."
Pariah thought of all the black chardalyn the duergar had been collecting and guessed that was the cause. "I don't like it," she said. "Sounds like a trap."
Eberic hemmed and hawed before saying, "I wouldn't normally trust one of the gray dwarves an inch, but I don't think he's lying. He's afraid of us, yes. He also keeps pleading for us not to kill Grandolpha before talking to her. I think he's telling the truth, though not all of it."
He went on to explain that the entry room led to a hallway that crossed the one leading out of this guard room. The duergar would come out the door at the end. After discarding various ways of sneaking in, they came up with the best battle plan they could.
Bjarnson changed into a mouse and crawled through the arrow slit to join Pariah before changing back to human form. The duergar, whose name was Dreck, watched this transformation with wide eyes. He was backed into a corner, his empty hands still raised in a placating gesture. Pariah took his weapons, a war pick and a crossbow. She told Lulu, who had remained invisible through all this, to stay here and watch him. She'd warn them if he moved from this spot, either running down the hall after them or trying to escape down the elevator.
And that's what the iron bars Pariah had seen were. They surrounded a dark shaft that led up and down. A continuously clanking chain ran the length of the shaft, and a metal platform moved up and down from the top floor to the basement, stopping here as well. It ran automatically, stopping long enough on each floor to allow people to get on and off. He said the elevators couldn't be shut down short of damaging the gear assemblies on the top or bottom floors.
The top floor held the elevator mechanisms and a workshop. On the lower level was the forge, mines and the throne room. This elevator led to the throne room, but there was one in another room that led to a shrine to the duergar god, Deep Duerra, near the forge.
He knew nothing about the weapon, since only necessary duergar were allowed into the forge. Grandolpha would know about it, though. In fact most questions they had were answered with some variation of "Ask Grandolpha."
Finally, with a decent battle plan laid out, Pariah and Bjarnson moved quietly down the hall that led out of the guard room. She led the way and he followed with his hand on her shoulder. The lighting inside was very dim, typical of dwarven settlements, plus the air was hazy with smoke. Pariah could see decently but she knew everyone except Eberic would be nearly blind without their lights, and they didn't want to summon lights that might alert someone yet.
The hallway came to a four-way intersection. A brazier here provided a little heat and light. The path ahead ended in a pair of double doors that led to Xardorok's war room and quarters. Dreck had assured them that Xardorok wasn't there. He was probably down in the forge or the adjacent shrine.
To the right the hallway stretched as far as she could see, lit by infrequent lamps on the wall that gave the minimal light underground dwellers needed. Pariah could hear the sound of hammering and possibly distant shouting, but it sounded like anger rather than alarm. Grandolpha was down that way as were the quarters of Xardorok's three sons, two of whom were missing. When asked the location of the third son, Dreck had responded with his usual, "Ask Grandolpha."
The hall to the left went about forty feet before ending in a pair of doors that led to the barracks. To the left was an opening to the entry hall. Nobody was visible. No footsteps could be heard. She looked at Bjarnson, who had moved to shelter behind the corner on the other side of the hall. "Is that too dark for you?" she asked in a low voice.
There was only a single lantern with a low flame in the stretch of corridor. She knew it would be practically pitch black to him. "My eyes have adjusted," he said. "I can hit a target from here. Give the order."
Knowing Lulu was monitoring her mind, she thought, "Tell Eberic to go ahead."
Eberic would be telling Dreck to open the gate and the portcullis beyond. She nocked one of the three arrows that Avarice had given her a while back, arrows tipped with the teeth of a white dragon. Time to see how good they were. As she heard the portcullis rising, she drew the arrow and aimed at the closed barracks door.
Notes:
Those familiar with the module maybe asking, "But what about The Thing? Why isn't The Thing happening?"
Because The Thing is stupid. It forces players to make a decision without enough information, potentially bypassing a bunch of content. So The Thing will happen later.
The duergar guard's broken Common is a suggestion from the "Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion".
Chapter 104: Assault on Sunblight
Summary:
The duergar defend their fortress from the intruders.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Pariah stood at the corner where two hallways crossed. She had an arrow tipped with a tooth of a white dragon pulled back and aimed at the door to the barracks. Bjarnson was leaning around the corner across the hall, facing the same direction. On the left side of the corridor was an opening that led from the entry of the duergar fortress.
There was little light and the air was hazy with smoke from the forge in the basement. She had trouble seeing and knew it would be worse for the humans but she saw light coming from around the corner, from the entry room. That would be Zariel's sword and Dejen's lantern. The rattling of the elevator in the guard room was still loud even at this distance, so she hadn't heard the portcullis rising, hadn't heard the footsteps of the others as they came through the gate, but she did hear a woman yelling. She didn't recognize the language, but she knew the tone: it was an alarm.
"Witness!" came Zariel's shout followed by a flash of brighter light through the opening. Pariah remembered that her sword could blind enemies. Something came out of the opening to the entry and smashed to the stone floor, spreading oil on the ground. That would be from Dejen's arm launcher. Pariah continued to watch the barracks door.
The door opened and a horde of duergar soldiers came charging out into the corridor. Pariah let the arrow fly, though it went wide. As she drew a second, Bjarnson chanted a spell and long thorns sprouted directly from the stone under the duergars' feet. Pariah loosed another arrow, and it exploded in a burst of cold that coated one soldier's armor in frost.
The frost-clad soldier ran forward with a bellow, leaving a trail of bloody footprints as the thorns pierced the soles of his boots and dug into his feet. He flung a javelin at Pariah but she ducked back around the corner and the spear sailed past her to clatter to the floor. She peeked out again. Another soldier also charged forward across the field of spikes, but he turned into the entry room rather than heading towards Pariah and Bjarnson. As he stepped into the doorway, a streak of fire came from the entry hall, igniting the oil on the floor. Both duergar were engulfed in flame. The frost-clad soldier collapsed but the other charged into the entry room.
At least six other duergar were still packed together in the barracks, hesitating as they looked at the field of spikes surrounding them. Bjarnson waved his staff and sent a shard of ice towards them, which exploded in their midst. This seemed to break them out of their indecision. They all turned invisible and Pariah could see bloody footprints scattering in all directions. She aimed to where she guessed one of the invisible duergar was. The last of her dragon arrows hit with another burst of cold, and that broke the soldier out of his invisibility. She sent another arrow, one of her regular ones, and he fell.
Pariah waited to see a sign of someone moving but there was nothing. There was no noise from the entry way, so fighting must have stopped there as well, but she knew there were still several duergar standing.
Zariel shouted, "They have gone to ground. We will have to advance."
Pariah agreed, though she didn't answer. She dropped her bow and switched to her saber and shield. Bjarnson let his spell fade and the spikes withdrew back into the stone. He said, "I'll sniff them out," before shifting into his wolf form.
Zariel and Eberic came into the corridor from the entry and advanced into the barracks. Zariel abruptly went into a defensive stance as four duergar shimmered into existence around the two of them, swelling to twice their size. Zariel caught a blow from an oversized war pick on her shield and counterattacked.
Pariah and wolf-Bjarnson rushed forward. She slashed at one of the duergar from behind, cutting a deep wound in his side. As he died, he shrunk back to normal size. Wolf-Bjarnson snapped at a soldier on the other side, latching onto his calf and trying unsuccessfully to pull the huge duergar off his feet. It distracted the enemy long enough for Zariel to strike a killing blow. The other two fell shortly after. Throughout this, Dejen supported them from the entry hall by shooting bolts of fire through the arrow slit.
Pariah listened for the sound of yelling or alarms from down the hallway, but the skirmish apparently hadn't alerted anyone else. Zariel pointed to two duergar lying near the arrow slit and said breathlessly, "Those two are only asleep. We need to bind them before they wake."
Eberic gripped his ice dagger and advanced on the unconscious duergar. "No need for that," he said as he raised his weapon.
Zariel grabbed his arm. "No! I will not let you kill a helpless opponent."
The dwarf pulled his arm from her grip and scowled at her, but grunted and walked away.
The duergar started stirring as the group quickly tied them up. Eberic said something threatening in Dethek to them as they awoke. They eyed the invaders hatefully but didn't fight back as they were bound. He questioned them during the process but they refused to speak.
Pariah inspected the barracks but found nothing other than the basic possessions of soldiers and her three dragon-tooth arrows, which were still intact. There were twenty-four beds in the barracks, so fifteen soldiers were unaccounted for -- fourteen if you counted the guard who had let them in. Lulu had tried talking to him telepathically, which had frightened him in a strangely disproportionate way. He kept saying they needed to talk to Grandolpha, even in response to questions as simple as how many other soldiers were on this level.
There was no way to lock or bar the doors so they'd have to hope their ropes held. They dragged the bodies out of the hallway and then closed the barracks door.
They returned to the intersection where the main corridor crossed the hall that led to the guard room. They still hadn't seen or heard any other duergar. The helpful guard had told them the door led to Xardorok's war room and quarters so they decided to investigate the first before looking for Grandolpha.
The first room was fairly empty. A brazier in the corner provided weak light and heat, a pair of stone doors were mounted in the far wall, and a stone table dominated the space. A map was drawn on the table in chalk. It had labels written in Espruar script, though it wasn't the language of the elves.
"What is this?" Dejen asked.
"I think it's supposed to be Ten-Towns," Pariah said. She could read the strange language and she pointed to the labels. "See here: Easthaven, Bryn Shander, Targos." If it was supposed to be Ten-Towns, it was a poorly drawn map that was neither accurate nor to scale.
Arrows and numbers had been drawn on the map. Zariel traced the path of the arrows with her finger. "Is this their plan of attack?"
"Maybe," Pariah mused. "But what are the numbers?"
Eberic tapped a spot on the diagram and said, "What does this say?" The lettering was larger than the rest and circled twice.
"53 hours," Pariah read.
"53 hours for what?" he asked. "53 hours until they attack? No that doesn't make sense because that would change as time passed."
Dejen was pointing to each number and mumbling to himself. He said, "53. The numbers on the map add up to 53. I think this map is saying they will conquer Ten-Towns in 53 hours."
Eberic snorted in disbelief. "There is no way an army could even march across Ten-Towns in that short of time, much less besiege and conquer the towns."
"I suppose so," Dejen said. "Possibly just a coincidence."
"But this is probably important, right?" Pariah said, nodding to the map. "Dejen, are you copying this down?"
"Yes, but I believe this is one of the Undercommon dialects, since many of them use Espruar script. I can read the numbers but not the words. Can you tell me what each of the cities along the route are? I will write that down along with the numbers."
Pariah read him the cities in the order of the apparent attack path: Good Mead, Dougan's Hole, Easthaven, Caer-Dineval, Caer-Konig, Termalaine, Lonelywood, Bremen, Targos, Bryn Shander.
"They're bypassing Dwarven Valley?" Eberic asked.
Pariah tapped on the map. "This says Dwarven Valley, but there is nothing else written like there is next to the towns. Maybe they don't want to try to dig out the dwarves from their tunnels. Or maybe they are saving them for last."
"I don't believe they will ignore the dwarves," he said. "As you said, they may be saving them for last so they can turn their full power on the valley."
Dejen started to ask, "Could the dwarves be-"
Eberic cut him off angrily. "If you are about to suggest that the dwarves are helping the duergar, I'd suggest you not finish that sentence."
The other man looked shocked. "Never mind," he said weakly.
They opened the other set of doors in the room to reveal a bedroom heated by two braziers heaped with glowing coals. A large stone bed covered in soot-stained furs dominated the room. Set into the wall above the headboard was a bas relief of a scowling duergar. At the foot of the bed was a chest closed with a large padlock. There was also a smaller door in the left wall.
"I'll try to open this," Pariah said. "In case there are military secrets inside," she lied. "You guys look around the rest of the room."
She took out her lockpicks and started to work on the lock. She wasn't paying attention to the others, at least until Dejen said in alarm, "What is that?"
She looked over to see they had opened the door on the side wall. She had expected it to lead to a closet, but it was actually a small shrine -- that, to be fair, was probably originally a closet. It held a black chardalyn statue of a duergar woman wearing a spiked crown and holding a battle axe. At the base of the statue lay seven humanoid skulls missing their lower jaws. The bones seemed deformed. The upper portions were abnormally large, possibly to hold equally large brains, and there were four strange lumps along the space between the upper teeth and the hole for the nose.
However none of that seemed dangerous, so she turned her attention back to her lock.
Zariel said grimly, "I believe that is Dark Duerra, the duergar goddess of conquest. If so, then I'd guess those skulls belong to mind flayers, since she abhors them as Lathander does the undead."
Dejen made a thoughtful noise as he picked up one of the skulls. "I've heard a little about mind flayers though not much. I'm a little worried about finding seven skulls, though. That makes me wonder if there are a number of them nearby."
"Unlikely," Zariel said. "These are probably the trophies he's earned over his entire life."
She paused as though she was considering saying something but remained silent. Dejen asked, "Is there something else?"
"Hmm?" Zariel said. "No. Nothing."
Pariah wasn't paying much attention, but even she heard the evasion in Zariel's tone. However, before she could follow up on that, she felt the tumblers inside the lock shift. However they didn't shift as she expected; they actually pushed back against her pick, sliding it to the side.
"What the hell?" she said.
"Problem?" Zariel asked.
Pariah had stopped manipulating the pick and was scowling down at the chest. "I would swear this lock is fighting back." She shook her head. "Give me another minute."
"We are in a hurry," Zariel reminded her.
"Yeah, I know. Just one more try."
"Very well," the other woman said disapprovingly. "But we need to find Xardorok and the weapon before anyone realizes the fortress has been infiltrated."
"I know, I know," Pariah said as she carefully fiddled with the lock. "Nearly there."
The tumbler shifted again, but this time she was ready. She pushed back and it snapped into place. The padlock popped open. "Ha!" she crowed.
She cracked open the chest, peering in to look for wires or catches. She saw nothing so she slowly opened it all the way. "Ooh, shiny!" she said as the dim light from the braziers glinted off the contents.
Most of the space inside was filled with a hookah made of platinum and set with dark blue stones that seemed to have six-pointed stars at their centers. She also saw a quilted jacket set with dozens of small gems, a comb made of green-banded stone and set with seven blood-red gems, two gray stone bottles sealed with corks, and a pair of black stone sandals. At first she thought it was black chardalyn but the stone was dull rather than shiny. Maybe obsidian?
She started pulling things out of the chest. The bottles were labeled in the same language from the map, which Dejen had said was Undercommon. One read "healing" and the other "courage". She said, "Does everyone have a healing potion?"
"I don't," Dejen said. She handed the bottle to him. "Anyone want a bottle of courage?"
Zariel studied the container skeptically. "Would it be safe for us?"
Eberic said reluctantly, "It should be. I don't want it but it's probably safe."
Pariah held the potion out but nobody seemed interested, so she shrugged and slipped it into a belt pouch.
She had taken everything out other than the hookah. She frowned at it. It would be too bulky to carry around, so she said, "Let's come back for this. Remind me on our way out." The item looked like it would be worth a fortune, but she also knew the problem with expensive objects: it was hard to find a buyer. She wasn't sure there was anyone in Icewind Dale who wanted a gem-studded platinum hookah.
Still, it would be worth a fortune even as scrap.
"So that's it?" she asked as she regained her feet.
"I believe so," said Zariel. "Let's be on our way."
She cocked her head as she studied the padlock lying on the ground. It hadn't acted like a normal lock. On impulse she picked it up and stuffed it into a pocket on her pack.
They headed back out to the main hallway. They heard no alarm or running feet, so apparently their intrusion was still undetected. Normally she'd have Lulu scout ahead invisibly, but it was probably better to keep her watching the guard at the gate.
She and Eberic led the way, slowly and quietly. She thought about invisible duergar. There could be twenty of them standing in the hallway and the group wouldn't know until they attacked. She drew her sword and held it out defensively in front of her, watching for any hint of movement. The sound of chains from the elevator and banging from the forge they hadn't found yet would drown out any soft footsteps, which could work both for them and against them.
The corridor stretched off ahead of them. The dim lighting and hazy air prevented her from seeing to the end. They advanced cautiously and reached another intersection after about a hundred feet. To their left was a set of double doors; the guard had said that was the dining hall. To the right was a portcullis that blocked off a shaft; a lever was set in the wall next to it. At first she thought it was another elevator, but there was no chain running up and down. The shaft was a good twenty feet deep and thirty wide, and it stretched up and down out of sight. Thick smoke rose from its depths, most of it continuing up the chimney but some spilling out into the hallway. She couldn't hear machinery but she could hear hammers on metal, the roar of a forge, and a voice yelling in Dethek.
"What's the voice saying?" she whispered to Eberic. She realized there were two voices, one male and one female.
The dwarf concentrated. The voice was loud but hard to hear over the other noise. "The man is berating the woman for a mistake. I think she's the forge supervisor. He is threatening her sons if the flaw is not fixed immediately."
"Are they talking about the weapon?"
He shrugged. The voices had stopped. The man started yelling again, but he had moved away and his words were lost in the noise.
She could see no way down here. The shaft seemed to be a chimney, but it was strange to see a portcullis here. Maybe it was a cargo lift, but there was no machinery that could operate an elevator. There might be a magical platform or something, but she couldn't see a way to summon it. Besides, they should probably talk to this Grandolpha person first.
Pariah looked right and left and still saw nobody down the hall they hadn't explored yet, though she could see a crossing just on the edge of her vision. The guard had said there was a training room, which is where the other elevator was, and the quarters occupied by Xardorok's sons. Two of them were dead, so those rooms would be empty. There was a third son, but the guard had said nothing but "Talk to Grandolpha" when asked about him.
The double doors were sealed tight. She had hoped there would be a gap to peer or listen through, but no such luck. They would have to throw open the doors and rush in.
Pariah and Zariel placed themselves in front of the stone doors with Eberic close behind, and Dejen and Bjarnson in the back. Lulu had joined them, since Zariel thought her telepathy might be needed. Zariel gave a signal and they pushed the doors open.
They hurried inside and found themselves in a long dining hall that stretched to the left. Four hexagonal tables of dark stone were pushed up against the walls, and chairs had been placed upside down on top. About halfway down the hall was another table surrounded by six chairs. The table held a hearty buffet of meats and plates of mushrooms and less identifiable things. A duergar woman with black hair streaked with white sat in one of the chairs, cutting into something that looked like a brain soaking in a pool of dark liquid and covered in a layer of soot. At the far end of the hall was a kitchen where three duergar worked to prepare more food. Three braziers plus the open fire next to an oven provided more heat and light than in the rest of the fortress.
The duergar all looked up at the intrusion. The kitchen workers, who were all armored, dropped their cooking utensils and snatched up weapons.
Eberic said loudly, "Xardorok calassabrak," the code phrase they had been given by the gate guard. He had explained it meant "Xardorok is a traitor".
The woman held up a hand and the three kitchen workers stopped, their eyes on her. The intruders had stopped as well, since they had hoped to avoid a fight. The duergar woman studied the newcomers with a critical eye as she resumed cutting a piece of the brain and transferring it to her plate. After a tense silence she said something in Dethek to the other duergar, who put away their weapons and went back to the kitchen. One picked up a stack of plates and brought them to the table. Another started filling mugs from a barrel. The third went back to the stove.
She gave a cold smile to the newcomers and said, "Please, sit. Eat. Let's talk."
Notes:
Pariah's magic arrows have a 70% chance of being reusable after being shot. She made all three rolls so they are all fine.
I may have mentioned this before, but I've changed duergar so that their invisibility and enlargement are bonus actions.
As usual I've made a few changes in the module. I removed the secret door because it doesn't go anywhere. I removed other things here and in future chapters because they telegraph a future event that I want to be a surprise.
I added a couple of potions to the chest.
Chapter 105: Enemy of My Enemy
Summary:
The invading heroes have come across the duergar, Grandolpha, who has invited them to dine with her.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Pariah didn't move and neither did her companions. They all stood there, weapons ready, stunned by the unexpected greeting. Grandolpha ate a piece of brain from her plate and chewed it thoughtfully as she studied them. The other duergar continued their kitchen duties.
Zariel sheathed her sword and stepped forward. "Thank you," she said cautiously. "Please pardon our reluctance, but this is not the greeting we expected."
Grandolpha swallowed her food and said, "I suppose not. But I think we might be able to help each other. Or I can just call the alarm." She shrugged. "Doesn’t matter to me."
Zariel looked back at the group and then took a seat at the table. She examined the meal with a disgusted expression. "What is this?" she asked.
"I believe they are called intellect devourers in your language. Slow cooked in its own juices. Quite tasty. Please, help yourself."
"No, thank you," Zariel said with a forced smile.
One of the duergar brought a plate of mugs. He plopped one down in front of Zariel. The woman picked it up and sniffed it suspiciously. "And this?"
"Muzgardt ale from my family's brewery," Grandolpha said, chewing loudly.
Zariel took a tentative sip and unsuccessfully tried to suppress a noise of disgust. "I see," she said, putting the mug on the table. "Very...distinctive."
The duergar woman looked over the rest of the group. "Well, are you all just going to stand there frozen like you've seen a basilisk? Sit down."
There was still some hesitation among the group, but Bjarnson and Dejen stepped forward to join Zariel at the table. Lulu flew over to stand on her shoulder. Eberic moved to put his back to the wall and didn't put away his dagger. Pariah sheathed her sword but decided to remain standing. Her eyes swept the room as she wondered if there were invisible duergar there as well.
Zariel said, "Your man at the gate said you wanted to speak to us. I'm curious not only what you wish to talk about, but how you knew we were coming?"
Grandolpha shrugged. "I didn't. Not you specifically, that is, but I figured someone would." She shook her head. "I knew Xardorok's idiotic scheme would attract the wrong kind of attention and I wanted to be ready for it."
"So you oppose his plans of conquest?" Zariel asked uncertainly.
"Conquest? No. It's a clan's obligation to subjugate and expand, but down below not up here in this vile surface world. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get decent food shipped up here?" she said, nodding to the brain stewing in its own juices. "And I've tried eating some of the animals up here." She made a disgusted noise. "Horrible. How do you people eat that filth? I'd rather dine from a chamber pot."
"Yes, well I guess it's what we are used to," Zariel said diplomatically. "So who exactly are you? I mean in relation to Xardorok and this fortress."
"I'm his future wife," she said. "Well, at least that's his idea. He wants the Sunblight clan and the Muzgardt clan to ally against the surface dwellers and our marriage is supposed to seal the deal."
"And you don't want that?"
"I was open to the idea," Grandolpha said as she took a drink of ale. "His family name has some value and our clans would be stronger together. I've known him on and off for a lot of years and he seemed inoffensive." She shook her head. "I was skeptical about his plan to invade the surface, but then I got here and saw what he'd become. He's gone mad, probably because of that cursed black stone he loves so much. He's paranoid about everyone and everything. He's got his own son in the dungeon being tortured; he claims the boy was trying to overthrow him."
Pariah had been silent, letting Zariel handle the negotiation, but she couldn't stop herself from saying, "So you are dealing with his fear of people trying to overthrow him by trying to overthrow him?"
Grandolpha scowled at her. "I'm doing no such thing. I'm just sitting here eating my dinner. What you people get up to isn't my business."
The light dawned as Pariah saw her plan. "I get it," she said with a laugh.
"Something's funny?" the duergar asked.
"Kind of. I once saw someone use a few stooges to get rid of the person in charge so their hands were clean. Remember, Lulu?"
The little angel looked confused for a moment and then looked over at Zariel as she remembered their scheme with Bel in Avernus. "Yeah, I do," she said softly.
Pariah said to Grandolpha, "And then, once he had what he wanted, he tried to murder us."
The duergar leaned back in her chair. "I suppose that's understandable. Fewer loose ends. Certainly if someone did murder Xardorok I'd have to seek vengeance in the name of our alliance." She tilted her head. "Then again, after such a drastic event, there would be a period of confusion. A smart assassin would use that confusion to escape. After all, we'd have almost no way of following you, especially with this storm brewing."
The scream of the wind could be heard dimly even inside the fortress. Pariah nodded. "Good point."
Grandolpha pursed her lips. "A brief period of confusion."
"Understandable," Pariah replied.
While they had been talking, Bjarnson and Dejen had investigated the food and drink. Dejen had taken a tentative bite of brain, made a face, but had chewed and swallowed. Bjarnson had chewed on a couple of bites, looking thoughtful as though trying to figure out what he was tasting. Both had tried the ale, and again Bjarnson had been more adventurous than the other man.
Zariel had been watching the conversation between Pariah and Grandolpha with a frown. She said, "And if Xardorok should suffer an unfortunate end, wouldn't his next in command simply go ahead with the planned attack?"
Grandolpha turned to her. "Well, that's part of the problem: he has no next in command. His sons are missing or imprisoned. My advice would be for us to fall back into the Underdark, but I have no authority over his people."
Zariel put her elbows on the table and folded her hands as she leaned forward. "We have heard he has some powerful weapon. What can you tell us about that?"
"You'll find it in the forge," she said with a sinister grin. "You can see for yourself."
Pariah didn't like that evasion at all. Why would she withhold details?
"But it can be destroyed," Zariel said, her eyes narrowed.
"Everything can be destroyed," Grandolpha replied. "And you should hurry. Last I heard, it was very near to completion. Honestly, I had expected him to launch his attack already. He may just be waiting for this storm to end." She pointed and said, "The east elevator leads to the temple, which has access to the forge." The direction she was pointing was away from the main entry and the elevator they had seen. She added sternly, "You should go now."
Zariel studied her but then rose to her feet. "She is correct. The alarm could go out at any moment."
Bjarnson and Dejen stood as well, but the latter turned to Grandolpha. "You said you had no control over his people. What about your people? Are any of the duergar loyal to you other than these three?" He waved to the cooks.
"A few," she said archly. "Mixed in among his soldiers. Ready to attack any enemies that present themselves."
"And would how would they react to the phrase 'Xardorok calabrassak'?"
She looked mystified. "They probably wouldn't; that's gibberish. Did you mean Xardorok calassabrak?"
Dejen stammered, "Yes, I guess so." He glanced at Eberic who just rolled his eyes slightly.
Grandolpha smiled. "That's quite an insult. I imagine they'd spring right into action if they heard someone say that."
"I see," he said thoughtfully.
"So are we done here?" Zariel asked. They seemed to be, so she said, "Then let's go." She nodded towards Grandolpha and said cautiously, "Thank you for your hospitality."
The group exited the dining room into the hallway. Pariah looked up and down the corridor but there was still no sign that an alarm had gone out. Zariel closed the door firmly behind them.
Bjarnson said, "I feel like I missed something in that conversation."
"It's a coup," Eberic explained. "She wants to depose Xardorok, apparently by murdering him. Or at least she wants him dead."
"And she wants to blame us outsiders," Pariah said.
"And that phrase you used? About Xardorok?" Zariel asked.
Eberic was less certain. "A code phrase, I suppose. A sign that we are friendly to her cause, or at least enemies of Xardorok. It may cause her loyalists to stand down, or it may be a sign for them to seize control. I suppose it depends on how many loyalists there are among the other duergar."
Zariel scowled. "I dislike being used in such a manner."
Pariah grimaced; the woman didn't seem to mind being used by the gods. However, rather than commenting on that, she said, "It doesn't matter. We want the same thing. Let's move along and get this done. If she's right about the weapon being ready, then we may not have much time."
They continued down the corridor in the direction they had been traveling until they reached a four-way intersection of short, dead-end hallways. There was one door to the left, one to the right, and one on each wall in the corridor ahead.
Lulu pointed to the right door. "The guard said the training room and the other elevator are there. The other doors are the quarters of Xardorok's sons."
Those rooms would be empty since two of the sons were dead and the third was apparently imprisoned by Xardorok himself. Pariah wondered what kind of treasures were in there, but they were in a hurry. They had stopped in his war room in the hope of finding information about the attack, which they had, but there was no reason to take a treasure hunting detour.
She could hear the clanking of the elevator chain through the door on the right. Eberic motioned the others to be quiet while he listened at the door. After a while he said, "I don't hear anything that sounds like someone training, but we should be careful."
They drew their weapons and he opened the door cautiously. He peered inside and then sighed in relief. "Empty," he said.
The room was dimly lit by glowing braziers in each corner that struggled to warm the air, though the icy wind blowing past the arrow slits on the far wall meant the room was still quite cold. Several training dummies of wood and cloth stood around the room, as did four full suits of plate armor. In the middle of the room was an iron cage. Like the other room, there was a pair of chains in the shaft that moved continuously.
Bjarnson watched the entrance while the others gathered around the elevator gate on the far side of the iron cage. Eberic tried to open it but it wouldn't move. Dejen said, "It may be linked to the elevator mechanism to open and close automatically. You might want to keep your hands away in case it moves unexpectedly."
There was nothing to do but wait as the clanking chains continued to move. After about a minute, an iron box came down the shaft from above. It stopped with a clunk and, as Dejen had predicted, the gate bars folded to one side to allow entry.
"I suppose we should all go together," Eberic said hesitantly. "But I hate to think what will happen if someone is at the bottom and waiting while we are all packed in like that."
It would be a tight squeeze to get all of them in the elevator car. It wouldn't be uncomfortable but, as Eberic pointed out, it could be a problem if there was anyone waiting at the bottom.
Zariel said, "I'll stand at the front. Pariah?"
"Yeah, me too," she said. "I can always fire a spell through those bars while we are waiting for the gate to open."
"If there is anyone there, we should charge out and engage them before they realize we are aboard."
Dejen asked, "What about the password? They might be Grandolpha's people."
"That is true," Zariel said reluctantly. "Very well, we will be ready to attack but give them a chance to respond to the password. Eberic, I think you should say it since you are most likely to say it correctly."
He grunted. "I think we should kill all the duergar regardless of their allegiance, but fine."
Pariah said, "Let's get aboard before it starts moving again."
They crowded into the elevator car, Pariah and Zariel at the front, Eberic in the middle, and Dejen and Bjarnson at the back, with Lulu flitting over their heads. And then they waited. Pariah was starting to get nervous, worried that someone would come into the room, but then the gate slid shut and the elevator started to move down.
The car shook as they descended. Zariel's sword and Dejen's lantern lit up the stone walls around them that slid past slowly. Pariah tried to look down past the gate but there was no way to see anything. They would have to wait.
An opening slowly rose in front of them and they all tensed as the room came into view, but there was nothing to see. Ahead of them was the corner of a bare stone room. The elevator car stopped and the bars of the gate folded to the side as the gate opened. Pariah couldn't hear anyone in the room, but it would have been hard to hear anything over the constant clank of the elevator chain.
She and Zariel quickly moved into the room. There wasn't much to see. It looked to be an arrival chamber for people coming down the elevator. Cold weather clothing was piled in one corner alongside a dozen pairs of snowshoes. There were two racks of weapons holding war picks, war hammers, javelins, and crossbows. A greataxe that looked far too large for a dwarf or even a human to wield leaned against the wall. The weapons and cold weather gear were all poorly constructed and worn. The last corner held a single glowing brazier.
"Do you feel that?" Eberic asked in a low voice. "That," he said firmly, waving around him.
Pariah hadn't noticed it, but now that he pointed it out she felt it: a slight tremor around them. It lasted only a moment, but shortly thereafter there was another, and then another, a rhythmic pulsing that she couldn't hear but could feel in her bones. "What is it?" she asked.
"Machinery maybe?" he said. "Something further underground?"
The sensation was unnerving, somehow even more so because it was so rhythmic. She also realized each event was actually two tremors close together. "Something big," she said. "But I got the impression from Grandolpha that this was the lowest level."
The dwarf shook his head. "They came from the Underdark so there would have to be something deeper."
"You know," Dejen said hesitantly, "the soothsayer in Caer-Dineval said the forge was powered by a dragon heart. Could that be what we are hearing?"
They all paused, waiting for the next tremor: thump-thump. And then another one: thump-thump. Now that he mentioned it, it did feel like the slow beating of a massive heart.
"Do you think they have a dragon down here?" Dejen asked nervously. "She did just say the heart."
"I've heard legends of red dragons being bound to help in forges," Eberic said, "though I'm not sure I believe them. I've never heard of just the heart being used."
"Me either," Dejen said. "That wouldn't be the weapon we've heard of, would it?"
Eberic grunted, "I can't see how. The duergar said they were gathering chardalyn for their weapon. It's not going to be a living thing."
Dejen nodded, relieved. "That makes sense. Using the heart of a dragon to power the forge seems more likely than finding a way to keep a dragon fed in a barren wilderness like this. Sounds like a fascinating use of magic, though."
Bjarnson said quietly to Pariah, "You seem to have seen a lot of adventure in your life. Ever fought a dragon?"
His tone was joking, but she remembered the demon-tortured monstrosity they had briefly encountered in Avernus. "Once," she said grimly. "We ran away. Thankfully it had other problems and didn't chase us."
He looked puzzled, as though unsure if she was exaggerating or not. "Oh," he replied softly.
The sound, whatever it was, didn't seem to be an immediate threat so Pariah resumed her examination of the room. A single stone door in the wall behind the elevator led out. From Pariah's understanding of the layout, the forge should be in that direction. She motioned to the group to wait and she approached the door. The constant mechanical sound of the elevator prevented her from hearing anything on the other side but it should cover any sounds she made as well.
Pariah cracked the door open and peered out. It was not the forge after all. There was a large statue in the room facing away from her. On top of the statue's head, a flaming brazier provided light and heat to the room. The walls were carved and though she didn't understand the scenes they depicted, she recognized a temple when she saw one.
She could see only a slice of the room, not enough to tell if it was empty. She waved Lulu over. "Can you turn invisible and look around?" she asked the asteri.
Lulu nodded, pulled her imaginary cloak around her, and faded from sight. Pariah couldn't even hear her wings over the sound of the elevator. Lulu wasn't gone long. She flew back over Pariah's head, fading into view as she did, and landed on Zariel's shoulder. Addressing the entire group she said grimly, "It's a temple. Empty...sort of. There's an illithid chained to the statue. It's been tortured and cut up. It's not moving and I'm not sure if it's alive or dead. It's just hanging in its chains."
"What's an illithid?" Dejen asked.
Rather than responding, Zariel asked Lulu, "Is it a temple to Deep Duerra?"
"Yes."
To Dejen, Zariel said, "Illithids are another name for mind flayers. They are a race of tyrants that travel the dimensions seeking slaves and conquest. They are every bit as evil as the fiends. They have great mental powers. Even chained up, they can strike at us. If they get close to you, they will literally eat the brain out of your skull."
The group took a moment to digest that horrifying description.
Lulu said, "It has a hole in its head. I think someone cut out part of its brain, probably to take away its psychic power. Maybe that's what killed it, if its dead."
Zariel frowned at the door. "But there is nobody else?"
"There's two other doors. One that leads to a room on the other side of that wall." She pointed to a wall next to the elevator. "And one that keeps going in that direction." She pointed towards the single entrance to this room. "I think I could hear hammering and yelling through that door so that might be the forge."
Zariel said resolutely, "We must not dawdle. Let's go."
She led the way through the door and the others followed. The stone of the walls and the statue was dark gray; no shards of black chardalyn gleamed from the artwork. The carvings on the walls displayed a bald duergar woman with an axe defeating humanoid creatures with squid-like heads and tentacles around their mouths. One wall was dominated with the large symbol of a skull like the ones they'd found upstairs inside the shadow of a head with tentacles like the creatures in the carvings.
The statue in the middle of the room was the same duergar woman, though there was more detail here than in the wall carvings. She was not completely bald here but rather had a fringe of hair and a tight braid. She wore scale mail and wielded a double-sided axe as large as she was. Her head was topped with a crown that served as a brazier, which was currently lit.
Their eyes were all drawn to the figure that slumped in chains that bound it to the statue's pedestal. It was vaguely humanoid but its hairless flesh was rubbery, purple-gray, and the dim light shone off a layer of slime on its surface. Its pale, pupilless eyes stared sightlessly at the ground. Strange bulges and ridges deformed its face into something alien, and the back of its skull was elongated. Its mouth hung open to reveal rows of tiny, sharp teeth. Around its mouth were four stubs where its tentacles had been cut off, the wounds caked with a silvery white substance. A large hole had been dug into the left side of its skull, though only darkness was visible inside.
It was on its knees, held up by the taut chains that bound it to the pedestal. Its naked body was covered in wounds from knives, whips and other devices of torture. The tips of its fingers had been severed. It was emaciated, its bone structure clearly visible against its gray skin, though it wasn't clear if that was from starvation or if the species was naturally gaunt.
Pariah tore her vision away from the horrifying sight to take in the rest of the room. As Lulu had pointed out, there were two other doors and they had no idea what was behind them. Wanting something to distract her from the thing before her, Pariah walked over to investigate the door on the same wall as the one they had entered.
Like the other doors, this was made of stone, which meant it was hard to hear anything through it. She cautiously opened it a crack to peer inside. It appeared to be a bedroom. Seeing it was empty, she opened the door wider. The chamber was austere; it reminded her of Rowan's cell back at the Lady's Hall in Baldur's Gate. There was a narrow bed covered in furs, a stone chest, and a stack of stone tablets. Three hooks on the walls held a furry cloak and what looked like a ceremonial outfit; the third hook was empty. The chest was open and held more clothing; a quick search revealed that's all it held.
Pariah looked down at one of the tablets and frowned. Infernal characters were inscribed on its surface but the writing wasn't Lesser Baatezu. Not only that but her ability to read anything didn't seem to be working. It was just gibberish. She lifted the heavy tablet to look at the one below it and saw the same thing.
"Find something?" Dejen asked.
"I'm not sure," she said. "It's writing but nothing I can read."
"I thought you could read anything," he said as he came to stand next to her.
"I thought so too. I think it's some kind of code."
Dejen made a thoughtful noise, presumably thinking what Pariah was thinking: these tablets were far too bulky and heavy to take with them to look at later. "I could transcribe them for later study," he said.
She put the tablet back. "We don't have time for that. Maybe we can come back, though I doubt Grandolpha will let us hang around very long."
"You think she can't be trusted?"
She turned to him with a wry grin. "I think she can be trusted to try to kill us once we've done her dirty work. I just hope she meant what she said about giving us a chance to escape first."
"I see," he sighed.
They returned to the other room. Eberic had cracked open the last door and was looking through it. They could more clearly hear the sounds of a forge and the yelling of a man now that it was open. Pariah moved to peer over his shoulder; he was the only one in the group she could do that to.
The door opened into a massive cavern that had been converted to a forge. It was dimly illuminated by a flickering light source off to the left out of her line of vision. A line of anvils spanned the room on either side of a conveyor belt. A smith used tongs to take a glowing chunk of black chardalyn off the belt and transfer it to his anvil. Past him was a guard tower with battlements along the top, though from this angle she couldn't see if there were any soldiers stationed there. She could see another tower to the right. She could hear voices yelling, though only one seemed to be yelling in anger. They were all speaking in Dethek so she didn't understand them.
"Lulu," Eberic said. He didn't bother lowering his voice because the sounds of the forge drowned out any noise. "Go in and take a look around."
"Right," she said as she turned herself invisible and flew in through the narrowly opened door.
Immediately, a piercing wail sounded from inside the forge. A man's voice started yelling something Pariah couldn't understand. Eberic growled a dwarven curse and then said, "They have something to detect invisible creatures. Someone, I assume Xardorok, is screaming that assassins are trying to kill him. He's telling them to activate the weapon."
Zariel said, "We have been discovered. Since stealth is no longer an option, we need to rush in there to take them with as much surprise as possible. Are you ready?"
Pariah said, "Well, actually..." but Zariel had already thrown open the door and charged in. Pariah would have liked a chance to prepare her defense, but she just growled as she drew her sword and rushed in after the other woman.
Pariah spent a moment taking in her full surroundings. Heads started to appear over the battlements of the tower ahead and two to her right. There was a fourth guard tower to the left, on the other side of a ten-foot-tall pyramid structure with smoke and flame spewing from the top. The smoke flowed along the ceiling that slanted up to a massive chimney to her left.
The flames from the forge and a few braziers around the room provided the only illumination. The other end of the conveyor belt she had seen ended there in front of a glowing opening where a duergar hand cranked the belt while a second pulled a glowing hunk of chardalyn from the forge and placed it on the belt. Alongside the forge was a massive stone crucible that emitted a glow from the top.
To her left was a platform raised higher than her head. It was a good thirty feet wide and deep and surrounded by cranes and other machinery. Rising up from its center was an enormous statue of a dragon made of black chardalyn. A soot-stained, gray-bearded duergar wearing a jagged black crown and a skull-shaped pendant was yelling at two duergar who were standing around the statue, screaming the same Dethek words over and over. A half-dozen bulky humanoids with vulpine faces and covered in shaggy white fur plodded around the platform, collecting discarded shards of black crystal under the orders of a duergar woman.
She saw enemies. She saw the man who was probably Xardorok Sunblight. What she didn't see was a siege weapon, just a large statue.
Glowing yellow energy worked its way along the crystalline structure of the dragon. Its head moved, turning radiant eyes towards the newcomers. It opened its mouth to reveal a ball of light in its throat that grew brighter.
"Oh shit," she breathed.
Notes:
The presence of Xardorok's third son is from the Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion. In the module, Xardorok had already killed the son long ago for trying to overthrow him.
The illithid is supposed to be alive though near death. I guess it can be the moral quandary of whether to leave this evil creature to be tortured, release him, or put him out of his misery. That might have been interesting, but there are other, more immediate issues coming up so I decided to skip that and just have him dead.
The tablets are from the module and are supposed to contain valuable information, but I found the concept of them kind of lazy. They are pretty much, "Here is my evil plan bwahaha," and why would someone do that? So I have a different idea for the reveal.
Chapter 106: Weapon of Mass Destruction
Summary:
The duergar weapon turns out to be a dragon made of black chardalyn. The adventurers join battle against the construct, Xardorok, and a dozen or so duergar soldiers. They can only hope that some of the duergar are loyal to Grandolpha.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
A blinding beam of light shot from the dragon's open mouth directly at Zariel. The warrior planted her feet and raised her shield as the stream of radiance enveloped her but seemed to part around her to sear twin scars in the bricks at the base of one of the guard towers.
"Xardorok calassabrak," Eberic shouted at the top of his lungs as he sought cover in a niche in the uneven rock wall, and loosed an arrow at Xardorok. The latter was clutching his skull pendant and yelling orders at the dragon, so didn't see the arrow that sank into his thigh. He whirled in rage and bellowed at them in Dethek.
They were surrounded by enemies and Pariah didn't like how exposed she felt. She ran for the anvils, hoping to get some protection in case the tower guards had crossbows, and also hoping that the two smiths would flee rather than fight. As she ran, she pulled the ice into her armor. The deep pulsation sounded again, a double beat that she felt through her boots. It came from the pyramid-shaped object ahead.
Zariel called out something about Lathander and charged the platform, her sword shining. Dejen was taking cover at the corner of the entry corridor. He fired magical fire bolts from his crossbow but his aim was off and they sailed past the black crystal beast. Bjarnson had stepped out from the hallway to raise his staff and say something Pariah couldn't hear over the sounds around her. Green-white energy shimmered in the air, coalescing into a strange creature. It looked like a fox with white fur along its belly and bright green along its back, but it also sported large wings of multicolored feathers and a feathery tail longer than its body. It flew in and began snapping its sharp teeth at the chardalyn dragon, who seemed to still be orienting itself to the battle.
Pariah was happy that the wide-eyed blacksmiths backed away in fear as she got close to the anvils, turning to run for an exit on the other side of the furnace. Now that she was closer to the forge, she saw a dark reddish brown object deep inside, a massive hunk of something in the middle of the fires. It contracted and then expanded again, and the double pulse of the dragon's heart thundered through the forge as the flames intensified.
She knew there were guards in the towers behind her, but she focused on the crystal dragon. It would take more than weapons to bring down something this big. She didn't like calling on the darker side of her magic, but she needed it now. She brought baneful energies down on the dragon, putting a minor curse on it.
The shaggy humanoids around the platform had frozen in place, throwing looks of terror at both the invading strangers and Xardorok. The duergar woman who was apparently in charge of them shouted orders, and they dropped their loads of crystal before fleeing for the far exit. She ran after them as Xardorok screamed curses at her.
Pariah quickly glanced to the side to see what was going on at the top of one of the towers. One duergar soldier had grown large and pushed a second one off the tower. The third was surprised but swelled in size to match the first, and swing his war pick at him. One of the two must be loyal to Grandolpha, though she wasn't sure which.
Zariel had reached the platform and bounded up the stairs where the dragon and an enlarged Xardorok loomed over her. He cast some spell at her as she got near but it had no effect Pariah could see. The tiefling nocked an arrow and started to take shots at the dragon, though the flying fox kept getting in her line of fire so she wasn't able to land more than a glancing hit.
Lines of yellow energy snaked across the dragon's crystalline body again as it opened its mouth. The energy coalesced and was released towards the fox, burning across the fur of its side and blasting past to scar the cavern wall a good eighty feet away. Duergar battled each other atop each of the four towers now, though it was impossible to tell who was on which side.
Xardorok hammered at Zariel with a huge war pick, which she blocked as best she could with her shield. She was focused on attacking the dragon. Her longsword slashed across the top of a leg and she released a burst of divine power, but the energy skittered across the surface of the crystal barely harming it. Bjarnson ran around to the left of the platform to fling a shard of ice behind Xardorok, which burst and peppered both the duergar leader and the dragon with sharp fragments. Xardorok whirled in anger and a streak of flame leapt the distance between them, burning across Bjarnson's armor.
The winged fox harassed the dragon but its teeth scraped harmlessly across the crystal and it was little more than a distraction. Pariah's arrows weren't doing much better; she knew she'd have to close with the massive beast before Zariel got overwhelmed. Dejen and Eberic were tied up with a couple of duergar soldiers who had been pushed off the towers. Pursing her lips, she put up her bow and readied her sword and shield.
It was hard to tell which way the battle was going, but Xardorok had been growing increasingly agitated. He grabbed his pendant and yelled at the dragon, pointing towards the chimney in one corner of the forge. Pariah realized it was the shaft they had seen outside the dining room where they had met Grandolpha.
The dragon spread its wings and took to the air. It flew towards the shaft and then up the passage that was barely wider than its wingspan. The flying fox pursued it but a stream of radiance came down from inside the shaft, engulfing its body. The creature fell and dissolved into greenish-white light that faded into nothing.
Xardorok snarled something at Zariel and then disappeared as he turned invisible. Zariel slashed at the space he had been but hit nothing.
The shaggy creatures and the blacksmiths had all fled through the far door. The woman who had been commanding the creatures was standing by a large crucible at the furnace. She had a metal bar shoved between the crucible and forge and she pulled it until the vessel started to tip. It spilled a glowing, molten puddle across the floor, blocking the entrance the shaggy creatures had fled through. "Xardorok calassabrak," she yelled at the newcomers. She pointed at the hallway they had come through. "You Xardorok stop," she shouted with a thick accent, and then she turned and ran towards the door the workers had used. One of the duergar atop the guard tower flung a javelin that sunk into her back, and she stumbled but kept running.
"Find him," Zariel yelled. "We have to stop him. I believe his amulet controls the dragon."
Pariah ran towards the platform looking for some sign that would show where Xardorok was. Dejen shot a bolt that covered an area in purple sparkles, but they fell to the ground and illuminated nothing. Long vines erupted out of the ground trying to capture anything there. They failed, but Pariah could see movement among the plants that were wilting as quickly as they had appeared. She shot a ray of icy energy in that direction and it splashed against something but quickly dissipated. Xardorok's movement reached the edge of the vines and again Pariah lost him. She fired another beam but hit nothing.
Eberic and Dejen had moved to block the double door that led to the temple, but they both grunted as something rushed past them and shoved them aside. Zariel, Bjarnson and Pariah were close behind and they chased the phantom into the hallway. The doors to the temple slammed shut and then glowed briefly with arcane runes. Zariel reached the doors first and pushed at them, but they wouldn't budge. She said something through gritted teeth as she slammed her shoulder against the closed stone door.
"Can you open this?" she demanded of Pariah.
The tiefling looked it over. She didn't see a keyhole or even a latch, just a handle on each door. "I don't think so. It's closed with magic."
"Dejen, can you remove the spell?"
"I'm afraid not," he said hesitantly. "The spell may be temporary, or brute force might be able to overcome it."
Zariel frowned at the door. "Bjarnson, help me," she said as she slammed a shoulder against the door again.
"Wait," Pariah said as she pulled a crowbar from her pack. "Here, try this. We'll keep them off your back."
Eberic joined them as well. While they struggled and pried at the door, Pariah turned to survey the battle that raged in the forge. More duergar had poured in from a side door. At the far end of the forge, two duergar in heavy armor had joined the battle. They bellowed as they charged into the melee and at first Pariah thought it was some kind of berserker rage, but she came to realize that they were screams of agony. These duergar fought with hammers that were merged to their armor rather than held, and the hammers moved clumsily. They seemed almost like tools rather than weapons.
"Should we attack?" Dejen asked nervously.
Pariah's brow furrowed as she studied the melee. "Who? I can't tell which side is which." Besides, it wasn't like Grandolpha's people could be trusted. They may have agreed to an uneasy alliance, but that wasn't going to last. "Let's just keep an eye out."
Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to the intruders; they were too busy killing each other.
When she heard a pop and sizzle behind her she turned just in time to see green-black energy dance across the door as Zariel and Bjarnson forced it open with the crowbar. The woman handed it back to Pariah as she drew her sword and charged into the temple. The others quickly followed.
There was nothing in the temple other than the corpse of the mind flayer hanging from the pedestal, the statue of Deep Duerra towering over him. The group hurried past into the room with the elevator, but it was empty as well.
"How long does it take this dread machine to return to this floor?" Zariel asked, raising her voice to be heard over the clanking of gears.
Dejen said, "Let's see, based on the speed of movement and the time it stops on each floor it would be about...let's see...if there are two other floors...at least six minutes after it left this floor."
"He'll be long gone!" she said in frustration. "Or at the least have been able to marshal his troops to stop us, or barricade himself where we can't reach him."
"Maybe," Eberic said, "but there's a coup going on. We have no idea what the situation on the upper floors is."
"Dejen," Zariel said, whirling on the man, "can you tinker with this?" She pointed to the turning gears that operated the elevator. "Return it to this level immediately?"
"I can look," he stammered uncertainly, "but mechanics is not really my area of expertise."
"You have to try!" she demanded. "The dragon is going to head for Ten-Towns. We have to get that amulet to call it back. If we can't find Xardorok, then we have to catch up to it and kill it."
Pariah felt stupid for not realizing that the dragon was the weapon that was going to attack Ten-Towns. That was the plan. There was no duergar army that would slowly march across the frozen tundra. The dragon would fly on the path they saw on the map, devastating each town until there was nobody left. The militias wouldn't have a chance.
"Dejen," she asked, "how long did that map say the attack would take?"
He had pulled out some tools and was examining the mechanism of the elevator. He paused as he tried to remember. "53 hours, I believe." He turned to her and added, "But it said the dragon would reach Good Mead in two hours."
Her heart sank as she remembered how long it had taken to get to this fortress. "Can we get back to Good Mead in two hours?"
Bjarnson frowned at the ground. "I don't think so. If we drive the teams as hard as they can go, then it's going to be three hours, maybe two and a half. And if the storm that was brewing as we arrive breaks, it's going to be longer than that."
"But a storm would slow the dragon down too, right?"
"Maybe," he replied uncertainly. "Most flying creatures are grounded during a bad storm. I know old Arveiaturace isn't slowed down by a blizzard, but I'm not sure it works the same for a smaller dragon made of black ice." Pariah remembered that Arveiaturace was the ancient white dragon who lived atop the Reghed Glacier.
"We may still be able to catch up," Eberic said.
"How?" Pariah asked.
The dwarf hesitated, looking around at the group, clearly reluctant to continue. Finally he said, "It will need time to destroy the towns. It's not just a race around the loop. It will have to stop at each town to destroy it, and that's time we can use to catch up."
A stunned silence fell over the group. Zariel asked, "How long?"
Eberic shrugged. "Never fought a dragon, don't know. An hour? Less?"
Bjarnson mumbled an epithet that couldn't be heard over the noise of the elevator; his face expressed the shock they were all feeling.
"Dejen, how is it coming?" Zariel asked sharply.
"I think I see the pattern, and I think if I can shift the gears it will change direction. I'm still trying to figure out which gear."
Pariah looked at the whirling array of metal that he was carefully examining. She pulled out her crowbar. "Need this?" she asked.
He glanced over and said, "Ah, yes. That might do nicely." He stroked his square-cut beard thoughtfully. "Or possibly that Netherese rod if I need more leverage." He reached out and took the crowbar. As he returned to work he said, "Avarice is supposed to contact us at sunset, yes?"
"I guess," Pariah said, confused by the change in subject.
"If she can contact you from a distance, maybe she could warn the towns. At least they would be ready for the attacks."
"I doubt she'd be willing to help," Pariah said skeptically.
"Maybe, but it doesn't hurt to ask."
Pariah admitted to herself that was true. "I can talk to her only briefly. This is a lot of information."
Dejen nodded as he continued to study the mechanism. In a distracted voice he said, "Write the message ahead of time. Keep it short. Speaking quickly actually makes you harder to understand so a few words spoken clearly is more valuable."
She knew he had the communication stone he used to keep in touch with Beldora, and he had told her that it allowed only a few words each day, so it was safe to assume he knew what he was talking about. "That makes sense," she said as she reached for her notebook.
She stopped as she heard something.
"Zariel," a voice whispered hoarsely.
It was a quiet sound, a sound that shouldn't have been audible over the noise of the machinery, but Pariah heard it as clearly as though it was whispered in her ear. It wasn't a telepathic contact, just a voice that cut through the noise. She whirled around, looking for the source.
Dejen asked, "Did everyone hear that?" as he straightened up from his work, his eyes darting around the room. From the reactions of the others, the answer was clearly "yes".
"Keep working," Zariel said, drawing her sword. "We'll investigate."
There was nowhere in the elevator room anyone could have been, that just left the temple. They moved cautiously into the next room, their weapons drawn, but saw nothing, though Pariah noticed the door to the forge was closed. Had they closed that? Lulu darted through the room, searching, but there wasn't anywhere for anyone to hide.
"Zariel," the voice said again, "you must suffer for turning your back on him. You must pay for your betrayal." The voice was speaking Baatezu, the language of the devils. It was the more formal version spoken by the greater devils rather than the speech Pariah knew, but the dialects were close enough that she could figure out the meaning.
"What is he saying?" Bjarnson asked. "Can anyone understand that?"
Pariah glanced over at Zariel, who had stopped in her tracks, fuming. Pariah didn't want to say anything at the moment.
"Who is speaking?" Zariel called out in Chondathan.
The voice chuckled. "You don't want to use the tongue of the Hells? You speak in the language of the vermin mortals. Have you abandoned so much of what you used to be?" Switching to Chondathan the voice said, "Don't you want to keep your secrets? Do you want them to know who you really are?"
Zariel searched for the speaker but nobody was present. She motioned towards the other door in the room, the one that led to the priest's chamber. Pariah and Eberic moved towards the closed door. "What's going on?" Eberic asked Pariah. "Do you understand what the voice was saying?"
"Yes," Pariah admitted. She added, "Later. It's complicated."
They threw open the door, but the priest's chamber was empty as well.
The voice continued to taunt Zariel. "You turned your back on Heaven. You turned your back on Hell. And when you tried to return to the weak creature you used to be, they abandoned you, as you deserved. So here you are, walking among mortals like you are one of them, but they will turn on you as well. He welcomed you. He embraced you. He gave you power and authority, and you betrayed him. And for what? For the mortals? For the souls you yourself stole? How did Heaven reward its returning angel?"
"Enough!" she shouted. "Show yourself! You taunt me from the shadows like a child. Have the minions of Asmodeus turned into such cowards? Are the souls trapped in Nessus tortured with nothing more than harsh words?"
The voice laughed. "Is that what remains of the rage that burned across Avernus? Is that shell all that is left of the Lord of the First? That mortal body will be easy to crush, and I will revel in your screams as you die, as I will bask in your agony when your soul goes back to he who commanded you, to he who you swore fealty to, to he who you served. You will suffer for eternity, an example paraded across all the Nine Hells to show what happens to traitors."
Sparks of light began to coruscate across Zariel's skin as her rage grew, and everyone started to move away from her. "Show yourself!" she snarled, spittle flying from her lips.
"You wish a confrontation? Then so be it," the voice chuckled. "Let your mortal form be crushed under his mighty hand."
They heard the sound of stone on stone and they turned to see the massive statue of Deep Duerra turning from atop her pedestal. She leapt down to the ground with a crash, towering a full head over Zariel. The brazier atop her head burst into a flaming crown as her face morphed into something half-duergar and half-fiend. Her mouth opened but she made no sound as she raised her massive stone axe and brought it down towards Zariel.
Notes:
I mentioned that I didn't have The Thing happen as they approached the fortress. The Thing is they are supposed to see the dragon being launched and heading towards Ten-Towns, and they have to decide whether to pursue it immediately or to infiltrate to fortress in the hope of finding additional information that will help them. Neither decision is ideal, and it's just bad game design. Why would you want players to skip an entire chapter in the module?
So a common change is to have the dragon launched once the PCs get to the forge. That gives them time to find things like the map of its route, and gain some insight into its abilities.
The dragon attack on Ten-Towns in the module is really poorly designed as well, almost ensuring that most of the towns will be destroyed without the PCs being able to do anything. If they head to Bryn Shander with the intent of intercepting the dragon at the end of its route, there will still be over a thousand casualties. If they foolishly chase it, thinking they can catch it, the death toll will be double or triple that.
"Rime of the Frostmaiden Companion" adds a few suggestions about how to run the chase to make it more reasonable that the PCs can catch up. They also suggest some changes to this battle and to the dragon in general, some of which I used and some of which I didn't.
This chapter originally had Bjarnson use conjure animals, specifically a pair of giant eagles and later a bear. However I later retconned that to be summon fey, so I rewrote his summons to be a bit stranger. That's why this one can fly even though normally they can't. The description is based on this image that I found when looking for weird fey creatures.
The duergar screaming in agony are duergar hammerers: tortured prisoners whose pain powers the machinery they are trapped inside.
Chapter 107: A Devil's Scheme
Summary:
The dragon has flown away on its mission to destroy Ten-Towns. The party pursues Xardorok through the fortress, but have been stopped by someone who seems to know Zariel's true identity.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
The attack by the statue caught Zariel by surprise and she wasn't able to get her shield up in time. The stone axe smashed across her breastplate and she wheezed as the breath was forced out of her. She launched a quick counterattack, and her weapon burst with divine energy as it impacted the construct's stone body, leaving a scorch mark behind.
Pariah charged forward, striking wildly in an effort to take the construct's attention off Zariel. The edge of her weapon skidded uselessly across the stone surface. She didn't seem to damage it, but it distracted the statue long enough for Zariel to say a prayer of protection. As an aura of light surrounded her, the statue hesitated. Then, as though it had forgotten about its original target, it turned away to vent its rage on Pariah.
She caught its first blow on her shield, the force of the impact leaving her arm aching. The cold in her armor flashed up the stone axe and across the statue, leaving cracks in its surface. Pariah pulled cold energy into her weapon and aimed a slash at one of the fractures. The icy magic burst forth from the edge of the blade, widening the break and digging deep into the stone.
Meanwhile Bjarnson and Eberic had closed with the creature. Eberic's magic ice dagger left deep gouges in the statue's side. Bjarnson briefly turned his hands into massive bear paws and left scratches across the thing's back. They were making progress, but this was a massive object of heavy stone and the damage didn't seem to be making much of an impact.
A bolt of fire came from Dejen's crossbow as he came out to help them, but Zariel called out, "Dejen, go back to working on the machinery. We can handle this."
"Are you sure?" he asked, hesitating.
"It is essential that we catch up with Xardorok as quickly as possible. Get that elevator back down here!"
Zariel was praying from her sanctuary. She struggled to keep her feet and it was clear her accumulated injuries were catching up with her. Her temporary withdrawal from the battle was hurting them, but Pariah trusted she knew what she was doing. Pariah's own blows were having minimal impact on their enemy. When she could focus the cold in her weapon she was able to hurt it, but she couldn't do that with every attack. The statue lashed out at all three of them, still ignoring Zariel, though it would turn towards her, seem confused for a moment, and then turn back to attack them.
Pariah was startled by a bellow from behind them as something attacked Zariel. Pariah caught a blow from the stone axe on her shield as she glanced over to see who this new attacker was. It was a duergar wearing priestly vestments, including a miter a good eighteen inches high. He snarled at Zariel as he slashed at her with his bare hands, breaking through her sanctuary and leaving scratches across the metal of her armor.
Pariah shifted her position so she could see both the statue and the priest. Something about the way he moved caught her attention. There was something alien, something primal about it, and yet also something familiar. He clawed at Zariel like an animal. His fingertips never touched her and yet she heard the scrape of claws against her armor.
The priest glanced over at Pariah and shifted his hips oddly. Something heavy and spiked slammed into her, piercing through the leather on her upper arm and into her flesh. She hadn't seen what had struck her, but now she knew what was familiar about this creature, where she'd seen such movements before. "That's not a duergar," she shouted. "It's a devil!"
Zariel was caught between the statue and the priest, trying to defend against both. The priest's attack had destroyed her defensive blessing and both enemies had turned their full attention on her. She glared at the priest in fury and energy started to gather around her. She called out something in Enochian; Pariah only understood the word "Lathander". Light poured from Zariel's mouth and eyes, and she was surrounded by a storm of whirling radiance. Pariah felt the light burn across her skin.
Zariel dropped her shield and launched a flurry of two-handed blows against the priest. Behind him, green energy started to swirl and take shape, like the energy that Bjarnson had used to summon the winged fox in the forge. This time the light coalesced into something bear-sized, but not a bear. Its shape was sleeker, similar to a tiger, but colored in bright rainbow hues and with gnarled brown antlers atop its head. Its colorful fur singed in the storm of light that surrounded Zariel, but it didn't hesitate as it threw itself at the priest. It grappled the fake duergar, sinking its sharp teeth into his shoulder -- but a shoulder over a foot higher than where his shoulder appeared to be. Spots of blood stained the cat's fur as unseen barbs pierced its skin.
The priest's miter fell to the ground, breaking the spell and revealing his true form: a lanky, pale devil covered in spikes, and sporting a long tail. This was a hamatula, also known as a barbed devil.
Pariah had backed away from the storm of searing radiance around Zariel. She stepped into the priest's chambers while she pulled a healing potion from her belt pouch. Eberic and Bjarnson had moved away as well, the former switching to his bow and the latter casting a healing spell on Zariel.
Zariel vented her rage on the fiend. The statue of Deep Duerra attacked her from behind, its axe blows slamming across her back, and the devil and the rainbow tiger were locked in a bloody embrace of claws and teeth and spikes. Eberic's arrows were doing little against the stone of the statue. Pariah fired a ray of icy energy at it that was more effective, but she was afraid she was going to have to wade into the burning light to attack that thing and pull it off of Zariel. The latter was maddened, ignoring the statue in favor of going after the barbed devil. The tiger was larger than the devil, but it was fighting a fiend covered in barbs who seemed to be gaining the upper hand.
Zariel managed to land a powerful two-handed blow against the devil's back as it wrestled with the animal. Divine energy blasted from her weapon, igniting its flesh. It went up in a cloud of flame and black smoke, leaving nothing more than a pile of ashes that soiled the tiger's blood-stained rainbow fur.
She turned her rage on the statue and it wasn't long before the group's attacks overwhelmed it. It crumbled into a pile of broken rock as the magic that animated it was broken.
Zariel whirled around, looking wild-eyed for another enemy. For a moment, Pariah wondered if in her unbridled rage she would just start attacking them. She raised her shield as it occurred to her that Zariel would probably start with the target with the horns.
"Zariel!" Pariah yelled. The woman's eyes snapped around to her. Pariah said firmly but calmly, "That's enough. They're dead. You need to calm down."
The storm of radiance continued to swirl around her. Zariel bared her teeth and started to raise her sword, but then she stopped. Her eyes darted around the room to the others, who were all standing as far away from her as they could in the room. Lulu, standing on Bjarnson's shoulder, said something to her in Enochian.
Zariel's head turned to glare at her, but then her weapon lowered. She hung her head and slowly the light started to fade. She felt to her knees and her sword clattered to the stone floor.
Lulu flew over to throw her arms around Zariel's neck and speak to her in Enochian. Zariel's skin was red like it had been sunburned. Blood oozed from the wound in her arm. She panted in exhaustion and sweat poured from her face.
Pariah was eying the tiger, unsure what it was, or what it was going to do now that there were no enemies. Bjarnson walked up to it and smiled. "Thank you for your help. You can go now." The cat nodded its multicolored head and dissolved into a cloud of green energy that quickly dispersed.
Dejen came hesitantly into the room. "Is it over?" he asked. "The elevator is back. I can't hold it on this floor. We need to get aboard before it starts up again."
Nobody moved. Zariel was on all fours with her eyes closed. Eberic was scowling at her. Bjarnson was watching her as well, both curiosity and concern on his face. Pariah stepped forward, knelt down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "We need to go," she said.
Zariel looked up at her with eyes of shame. She glanced sideways at Bjarnson and Eberic, and then she nodded and regained her feet. She picked up her shield and sword and then turned towards the door leading to the elevator.
Eberic continued to glower at her. "What did that mean?" he asked, suspicion heavy in his tone. He waved vaguely at the traces of ash that were all that remained of the devil. "Heaven and hell and all that nonsense."
Zariel met his eyes but remained silent. Pariah said, "That can wait. We need to get after Xardorok and stop the dragon. The elevator won't wait forever. Come on, let's go."
She put a hand on Zariel's back and, with gentle pressure, guided her into the other room. The rest of the group followed. Zariel stopped at the open cage and waved the others in. "I should be first out in case enemies await us," she said, though her voice was exhausted. Pariah wasn't sure the woman had much fight left in her but, looking around, none of them did except Dejen.
The car rattled and shook as it started up the shaft, and Pariah suddenly wondered what they would do if it just stopped between floors. In addition, the noise meant they had no way of hearing if anything was waiting up above.
They rode up in a heavy silence. Some of that was because of their fatigue and injuries, but Pariah knew some of that was the unspoken questions everyone had. It had taken her a long time to find a way to craft her own story to make it palatable to her companions. She wasn't sure how easy it would be to do the same with Zariel's history, but that was a problem for later. They still might have duergar to fight past, and they definitely had a dragon to chase.
"We should be getting close," Dejen said.
They drew their weapons, at least those who had sheathed them. Pariah debated about pulling the cold into her armor but her magic energy was lower than she would have liked. They didn't know if they'd face combat or not and she didn't want to waste what power was left. She raised her shield before her as she readied herself to face whatever was waiting for them.
The practice room came into view, but it was empty. The elevator car shuddered to a halt and the cage clattered open. Zariel and Pariah rushed out, each turning to survey half of the room, but no duergar waited for them.
Pariah started to say, "We should..." but then Zariel threw open the door and rushed out into the corridor. "Or we could just charge ahead," the tiefling sighed before following her.
They were at the intersection of two corridors. The doors to the quarters that had belonged to Xardorok's sons were still closed. To their left the hallway stretched off into the dim light and four duergar were gathered around the body of a fifth. The group tensed, but Pariah recognized Grandolpha and her bodyguards. "It's all right," she said to the others, and then added. "I think."
The duergar had looked up and seen them. The bodyguards looked to Grandolpha, but she made a dismissive gesture as she watched the intruders approach her. The guards relaxed but only slightly.
The body was Xardorok's. He was on his back staring sightlessly at the ceiling, the hilt of a knife sticking out of his chest. It wasn't a dagger, not the kind of weapon a warrior carries at the hip. It was a small knife like you might find in a boot or up a sleeve. A perfect knife for backstabbing, even if this backstab was from the front.
Zariel looked suspiciously at Grandolpha. "You did this?" she asked.
The duergar woman raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Me? Of course not. He was murdered by a bunch of filthy humans who invaded our fortress after they killed many of our other soldiers. Terrible, really, but I think it's a sign that we should return to the Underdark." She frowned and said in a sterner tone. "And the humans better leave before we are forced to kill them in revenge."
Pariah wanted to point out that half the group wasn't actually human, but that wasn't important right now. This was that narrow slice of time she was going to give them to escape. She'd have no reason to chase them into the wilderness, but she also wouldn't object to having the bodies of a few surface dwellers to show her superiors.
"We need his amulet," Zariel said emphatically.
Grandolpha looked surprised again, though this time the emotion was genuine. "His amulet?" she repeated, glancing down at his body. Xardorok's skull-shaped pendant hung from a leather thong around his neck, and was currently dangling in his armpit. "Why?" the duergar asked.
"It controls the dragon," Zariel replied.
The duergar woman looked down at the amulet again and then back at Zariel. "It doesn't," she said. "The dragon is inhabited by some spirit sent by Deep Duerra. It does what it wants, though it follows orders."
Zariel scowled at the woman, unsure whether to believe her or not. "It wasn't Deep Duerra who guided him. It was the devil Asmodeus impersonating her, guiding Xardorok for his own purposes."
"Was it?" Grandolpha said, frowning deeply. "That priest..." she began.
"Is dead," Zariel said. "And turned to ash. He was a devil impersonating one of your kind."
Grandolpha snarled something; Pariah didn't understand the words, but she knew swearing when she heard it. The duergar woman said, "I suppose the fact we came to the surface because of some devil's scheme is even more reason to return to the Underdark." She gave Zariel a grudging look of respect. "Thank you for exposing his deception. But you need to leave. Now."
Zariel didn't move. "We still want the amulet."
Grandolpha sighed, "Fine." She bent down, pulled the knife from Xardorok's chest, and used the bloody weapon to cut the leather cord. She handed the amulet to Zariel. "Take it and go."
The leather was stained with the blood from the knife, and Zariel hesitated momentarily but then she took the pendant, nodded to the duergar, and walked past them towards the entrance.
As she did she handed the pendant to Dejen. "Can you tell if this is magic?"
He took it, holding the stone skull pendant carefully between two fingers. Now that she could see it closer, Pariah realized it was a carving of a mind flayer skull. Dejen gave it a cursory glance. "It's not obviously so, but I can make a closer examination on our trip back."
"Please do," Zariel said grimly. "I can't think of a reason she'd lie about it, but I'd rather be sure. I'm hoping we can stop the dragon before it reaches Good Mead."
No one stood in their way. The bodies of the soldiers still littered the hallway that led to the entry way and the barracks beyond. The only living duergar they saw was the guard who had let them in, watching them nervously through an arrow slit. He moved away from the gap, they heard a clank, and then the gates opened to reveal the raging storm outside.
They were still sheltered slightly from the weather as they exited out to the walkway outside the gate, but the wind screamed across the snowy slopes ahead of them. A little twilight illuminated the area though the blowing snow prevented them from seeing very far.
They hurried down the steps, strapped on the snowshoes they had left at the bottom, and then headed down the path that led to the hollow where Haol and the dog teams awaited them. This took them into the teeth of the wind and they all pulled their furs tightly around them. Pariah briefly wondered if there was an ambush ahead, but doubted the duergar would have bothered. If they were going to attack, they would have done so in the fortress, and that applied to both Xardorok's soldiers and Grandolpha's.
The hollow was also sheltered from the wind. The dogs were waiting patiently for them, still harnessed to the lines as Eberic had suggested. Haol watched them impassively. As Zariel approached him, Pariah shouted, "Did he see anything?" nodding to the axe beak.
Zariel replied, "He let me know that a dark shape had flown overhead, but he couldn't see what it was. It was headed that way." She pointed back in the direction they had come, towards the town of Good Mead.
Bjarnson gathered them all together so they could hear each other. "We'll drive the sleds," he motioned to himself and Eberic. "We'll have to stay close together because of the storm, but we are going to drive them hard and fast if we want to have any chance to make it back in time." He hesitated and then said to Zariel, "If you can't keep up, we can't come back for you."
She stood tall and said, "I am confident that Lathander will give us the strength to endure this hardship. You lead; we will follow. We will not slow and we will not tire."
He nodded and then turned to mount one of the sleds. Eberic didn't. He motioned to Zariel and she bent down to bring her face closer to his. Sternly he said, "I know we don't have time now, but you have some questions to answer when we get back to town." He turned and went to his sled without waiting for a response.
Zariel and Pariah exchanged a glance but there was nothing to say right now.
Dejen handed her a piece of paper he had torn from his notebook. "For when Avarice calls you," he explained before he got on the sled behind Eberic. Pariah looked at the paper; it was a message about the dragon attack. She shoved it into a pocket inside her cloak and then, with Lulu nestled in her hood, she mounted Bjarnson's sled. He looked around to make sure they were all ready, and then the big man called out to the dogs and they trotted out into the storm. Eberic followed very close behind them, and Zariel came last.
As soon as they got into the open, Bjarnson shook the reins and called, "Hike! Hike!" The dogs ran faster and faster, speeding across the uneven ground as the wind tore past them and the snow blew into their eyes. Pariah pulled her cloak close around her as they sprinted into the freezing arctic tempest.
Notes:
This temple and Asmodeus's priest are canon to the module. It made for a good way to reveal Zariel's past.
The statue is homebrew, based on a weaker stone golem. I was trying to find a way to make this a tough battle but focused just on Asmodeus and his minions without the duergar getting directly involved.
I've mentioned this before, but Pariah putting cold into her weapon is her Planar Warrior ability from Horizon Walker. It's actually force damage, but I write it as intense cold to fit her power set.
As in last chapter, Bjarnson originally used conjure animals to summon a polar bear, but I retconned the spell to be summon fey. This creature wasn't based on anything in particular, just the vague idea of "a bear that's not a bear".
The priest is wearing a hat of disguise, and I had planned to give it to them but decided not to. It serves no purpose at all, plus there wasn't really a good moment to grab it. There's no reason from them to realize that the miter was what was making him look like a duergar, and they were in too much of a rush to think about it. I'll give them something more relevant later.
There is a lot more to this fortress, including some loot and several prisoners who need to be freed, but the party is in a hurry. This also marks the end of Chapter 3 of the 7-chapter module.
Chapter 108: Racing the Wind
Summary:
The party charges into the gathering storm, hoping to catch up to the chardalyn dragon before it lays waste to Ten-Towns.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
The storm grew into a full blizzard but that didn't slow down the expedition in their desperate attempt to reach Good Mead before the dragon did. Pariah had donned her snow goggles but they didn't help. The daily twilight was nearly gone now, and the light spells from Zariel and Lulu didn't penetrate far into the wall of blowing snow.
Pariah had to trust that Bjarnson knew how to stay on course even though there were no landmarks. They had shared a shouted conversation about his navigation and he had admitted they were just heading generally west. Eventually they'd come to the Redwaters or, if they got far off course, the Howling River to the north or the Spine of the World to the south. From there they could follow the river or the mountains to the lake and then follow the western shore. They'd get to Good Mead eventually, though it was clear it wasn't going to be anytime soon.
And, though he didn't say it out loud, there was no way they'd get there before the dragon did.
Pariah wished she'd asked Dejen the time before they left. The fading twilight meant it was nearing two in the afternoon, but she wasn't sure how long they had been traveling. It felt like many hours but it couldn't be that long. One hour? Two? Bjarnson had said three total, but only in clear weather. The storm would add travel time they couldn't afford.
Her anxiety chewed away at her insides. As had happened on previous trips, the lack of visible progress during their travel frustrated her and made her feel like they were going in circles. The added time pressure of the attack turned her frustration to fury. Faster! she cried inside her mind, knowing the dogs were already pushing as hard as they could.
She prayed that the storm was slowing down the dragon as well. Those big wings would feel this gale much worse than they did. Bjarnson had said that Arveiaturace wasn't slowed down by blizzards, but then she wasn't made of crystal. Would the chardalyn dragon find it easier or harder to fly in the wind? Pariah remembered her own wings, and how they hadn't held her in the air. The magic made her float; the wings had just guided her travel. Would she have been able to fly in this wind?
"Report!" Avarice's voice barked in her head, making Pariah jump. She hadn't even felt the cold that had prefaced Avarice's contacts in the past, the feeling masked by the icy wind that found its way into her cloak no matter how tightly she pulled it closed around her.
She had been ready for this, knowing Avarice was going to call once the sun set. She pulled out the paper that Dejen had written. She held it tightly, afraid the wind was going to tear it from her hands. She read aloud, "Duergar chardalyn dragon attacking now. Starting Good Mead to Easthaven, caers, west towns, Bryn Shander. Warn speakers. Prepare defense. We are going to Good Mead."
Pariah waited for a response. She didn't expect one, but it would have been nice to have gotten an acknowledgement of the message, a promise to warn the other towns, or even an insult over the fact they had "allowed" such a thing to escape the fortress.
There was nothing but silence.
Pariah said into her cloak, "Lulu, tell Zariel and Dejen that the message went to Avarice." She leaned forward over Bjarnson's shoulder and shouted, "Avarice just contacted me and I gave her the message."
He nodded acknowledgement but didn't respond, his full attention on the terrain ahead.
Pariah pulled her scarf up over her mouth to minimize the effect of the cold, dry air. There was nothing to do but wait now and hope they could eventually catch up to the dragon and...what? Kill it? Even their brief skirmish with it hadn't gone well. Their weapons had done little damage. Magic would obviously be needed to defeat it, and theirs was running low. The warning from Avarice -- if the wizard bothered to warn the towns -- would let their militias set up defenses, but would they be able to do anything against that kind of magical beast? She remembered the Easthaven sheriff saying they had a few magical arrows they used for creatures like perytons; she hoped it would be enough.
There was another thought that had been lurking around the edges of her mind. She wanted to ask Zariel about it, but she'd have to settle for the next best thing. "Lulu," she said to get the asteri's attention. Then, not wanting to try to carry on a conversation over the roaring wind, tapped her head.
"What is it?" came the asteri's voice in her mind.
"Zariel didn't seem surprised that Asmodeus was involved. In fact, thinking back, I get the impression she knew before the devil attacked us."
Lulu was silent for a moment and then admitted, "She didn't know, but she suspected. He has been manipulating the duergar for decades by impersonating their gods, especially Deep Duerra. When she saw the statue in the war room, she wondered if he was behind this. It would explain why they suddenly wanted to conquer the surface when the duergar are usually content in the Underdark. And..." The little angel hesitated before saying, "...it would explain why Levistus is so interested in stopping them."
"Talona's tits," Pariah said out loud. Of course that's why he was interested. Interfering with the schemes of the other devils was his favorite pastime, which is why he tried to stop Zariel in Avernus. He especially hated Asmodeus. He wouldn't care about the duergar; he would care about Asmodeus building power here.
Lulu asked, "Do you think they'll go back underground like they promised?"
Pariah shrugged. "I don't know. If it's true that they prefer staying in the Underdark, and came up here only because Asmodeus was pretending to be one of their gods, then I guess so. If not, then I'm not sure what we'd do about it. We only got into the castle because Grandolpha helped us. It won't be so easy to get in again."
Pariah was lost in her thoughts for a bit and then said, "How's Zariel doing? I guess that wasn't easy for her, being confronted with her past like that."
"She's fuming. I'm glad we have a dragon for her to direct her anger at."
Pariah chuckled bitterly. "That's true. Let's hope that lets her work through it." She frowned. "I wonder if Asmodeus already knew she was here." She sighed and shook her head. "I wonder if Levistus knew I was here even before we came to the castle."
"We've been talking about that," Lulu said. "I mean the Asmodeus part. She doesn't think so. He probably would have taken more direct action by now if he had. He might have seen her when she got close to the Deep Duerra statue. Or maybe he saw her through the eyes of the devil priest."
Pariah frowned. "Yeah, where did he come from? He was just suddenly there."
"There was a hidden door. I guess you all didn't see it. It was behind you when you were fighting the statue."
They had enough problems without two archdevils messing with Ten-Towns. "Does she think Asmodeus is gone then? Do you?"
"She's not sure. It depends on whether or not he had been tricking anyone else among the duergar. But probably he was manipulating them through the priest, so with him dead and with Grandolpha knowing that it was Asmodeus behind it, he's probably been stopped for now. He may try again, but he has other plans in motion all over the world and the other planes. It will be years before he gets around to anything."
That triggered a thought in Pariah's mind. "But what did he want? What does Levistus want? I don't feel like he's here just because Asmodeus is. I think they both came and just sort of bumped into each other. Why would two archdevils be so interested in a patch of frozen tundra like this? And does it have anything to do with the Everlasting Rime, or are they just using that as a cover?"
"I don't know," Lulu replied.
Pariah looked behind them and could just barely see the shape of Zariel and Haol running behind them. It probably wasn't good for Zariel to be isolated like that, brooding on what had just happened. Hopefully Lulu and Haol were telepathically giving her the support she needed. There were likely to be a lot of awkward questions from the others once they got a chance to rest. Pariah was prepared to defend her and point out how much good she'd done for the group, but it was a lot for them to accept. With the immediate threat of the duergar over, and assuming they could stop the dragon, there might not be as much need for the group to travel together. If the others weren't willing to work with someone like Zariel, then Pariah would have to make a choice.
She sighed heavily; Zariel wasn't the only one brooding in the storm.
Pariah tried to keep her thoughts from going to dark places, but there wasn't much else to do. The weather grew more and more intense. No matter how tightly she pulled her furs around her, the unnaturally icy air found its way in. The darkness and wall of snow that surrounded them made her anxious. Under other circumstances, she was certain Bjarnson would insist that they stop and wait the storm out.
And just beneath the scream of the wind, she could almost hear a voice whispering. She might have waved it off as her imagination, but they had heard Auril's voice in storms before. Did that mean she was close?
Pariah offered to take over driving but Bjarnson just shook his head. It was probably for the best. She couldn't imagine how he was navigating, but had to assume he was doing more than simply driving into the nothingness. He also knew how to get the most out of the dogs. She didn't think the team had ever run this fast and, as the hours passed, she wondered if they were getting exhausted. She had heard it was possible to run horses to death. Did the same apply to dogs?
Lulu had renewed her light spell twice when Bjarnson suddenly pulled back on the reins and the dogs tried to slow down. He pulled the brake on the sled as it continued to slide along. The dogs tried to get out of the way, but were harnessed to the line. The back end of the vehicle started to slide around to the side, and they finally stopped.
"What happened?" she asked in alarm.
He released the brake and called out "Hike!" to get the dogs moving, pulling them into a left turn. "We're on the ice," he called back to her as he turned around to go back the way they had come. "Must be the Redwaters. We'll follow the shore around."
She looked out in the small circle of light put out by Lulu's spell, but the surroundings didn't look any different than what they'd seen before. Maybe a little flatter, but that was about it. "How can you tell?"
"Runners sound different. Can't you hear it? They scrape on the ice."
She listened but heard only the scream of the wind. Still, she wasn't going to doubt him, and they certainly didn't want to accidentally drive the sled into the open water. She wasn't sure any of them would survive a dip in the freezing lake.
Eberic and Zariel had managed to stop and they had turned to follow the lead sled. Bjarnson turned the sled to the right again, now traveling roughly perpendicular to their previous course. She might have felt a bump before he turned, as though the sled had come up from the ice onto the shore, but that might have been her imagination.
She peered out ahead to see if she could make out a shoreline but it all looked the same to her. Hopefully it did not look all the same to an experienced outdoorsman.
"How are the dogs?" she asked.
He didn't answer right away. He finally said, "They're getting tired, but I think they are fine. None seem to be running lame anyhow."
She looked at the winter's fury around them. "I guess you can't talk to them right now."
"No," he said.
She had more questions but he needed to concentrate, and it's not like his answers would change anything. She trusted him to know their route, to know the sled, to know the dogs, even to know their own limits. None of them would have agreed to stop, no matter how bad the storm got.
That was good, because the storm got a lot worse.
It was hard to say if this was the worst storm she'd been in since she got here, but it was certainly the worst storm that she'd traveled through. Most of the blizzards had been spent in buildings or caves or even a quick trench in the snow. Now they were fully exposed to the naked power of the storm, felt the full might of the Goddess of Winter's Fury. The cold sapped her energy and made her sleepy.
That reminded her of her coffee bottle. She bent down to retrieve it from her pack, and then opened it to take a swallow. The coffee was hot and refreshing, and she wanted to drink more, but she wasn't the one who needed it. She passed it up to Bjarnson. "Save some for the others," she shouted to him.
He nodded and then tilted the bottle back. He drank a couple of swallows and then passed it back to her.
Through Lulu, Pariah told Zariel to run alongside. She handed her the coffee, and Zariel took a drink and then dropped back to pass it to Eberic. It was awkward, and Pariah imagined everyone's hands were numb and clumsy, but they managed it without dropping the bottle. If they had, it would have been lost because they wouldn't have had time to turn around and search for it in the snow.
When she got the empty bottle back, she thought about trying to rig a harness. Nothing complicated, just a long cord to tie around it so they could retrieve it if it did drop. However, her fingers were cold and she wasn't sure she'd be able to tie a knot. With luck they'd be at Good Mead before the bottle filled up again and she could try something when she'd warmed up a bit. Somehow she doubted this was the last time they'd be racing across the frozen tundra.
They crossed the frozen stream south of the Redwaters. It was an obvious landmark, and that comforted Pariah. She had an anchor now, a specific point to orient on. "How much longer?" she asked Bjarnson.
"Less than an hour," he said.
That seemed like forever, both in terms of enduring the storm and in terms of thinking about how much damage the dragon was doing. She didn't bother asking if he thought they'd get there in time to help. He didn't know anything for sure. They'd just have to hope they could arrive soon enough to do something.
She checked on the others to be sure they were keeping up. She usually couldn't see anything more than the glow Zariel had cast on Eberic's sled, or the radiance of the woman's own sword that she held before her to light the way. Sometimes she couldn't see even that and she'd peer into the darkness, afraid they were lost but not wanting to have Bjarnson slow down. It was never long before she'd see them again, but each time she was terrified that they had become separated.
Pariah was surprised when Bjarnson slowed the team, but then realized that they were passing houses on the edge of Good Mead. The buildings were intact but dark. No smoke came from their chimneys, though she wondered if it was being swept away by the screaming gale. The lack of damage was a hopeful sign.
At least it was until they reached the greenhouse.
Bjarnson pulled the dogs to a halt. Haol and the other sled caught up to them and stopped as well so they could survey the destruction.
The thick, blowing snow meant they could see only the edge of the massive building and a few strides into the garden. What had been a garden. The glass walls were shattered, the structure bent and scorched. The flowers were nothing more than withered stalks, their petals torn away by the wind. The floating orbs of light that had illuminated the plants were nowhere to be seen.
Grief and anger welled up in Pariah's chest. This devastation was so pointless. Were the duergar afraid of flowers and bees? What was the possible reason to destroy such a miracle in the middle of a barren wasteland? Had this been Xardorok's orders, or was the dragon naturally sadistic?
Bjarnson turned away from the ruined greenhouse and started the dogs moving again, more slowly than before. Many of the houses nearby had taken damage as well. Scorched lines of destruction cut through brick walls and slate roofs. Through the gaps Pariah saw destroyed furniture. She searched for some trace of survivors, a lantern or a fire, something.
She saw the first body, a stocky woman lying face down in the snow, halfway out her front door and already partially covered in snow. She wasn't wearing armor or carrying a weapon. She didn't even have furs on, just a wool shirt and pants. Her back was scorched down to the bone.
The next seemed to be a militia member. A shortbow lay nearby and he had leather armor under his fur cloak. Or at least that half of him she could see wore leather armor. His legs were missing.
No, there they were, on the other side of the narrow road.
There were more. Pariah looked at them at first, searching for movement or some hint they were alive, but soon she had to look away. Maybe they should stop. Maybe they should check. Maybe they should just keep going.
They traveled along the side of the greenhouse. She hoped that something had survived, but it was all dark and dead. Bjarnson guided the dogs as best he could away from the shattered glass that lay in the snow.
The sides of the mead house were marked with scorched lines but the structure looked intact. It was a sturdy building and might be a good shelter for survivors. She couldn't see lights, but the hall had no windows plus they were coming up from behind the building. There might be more evidence of life up front.
Bjarnson turned the corner onto the road between the mead house and the kennel. He stopped the sled again. The kennel had collapsed. From the scorching on the walls, it looked like it had caught fire, at least for a time. She could see the bodies of at least four dogs scattered around the ruined building.
Pariah couldn't see Bjarnson's face under his hood, just his breath coming out in clouds that were immediately snatched away by the wind. He stared at the kennel without saying anything.
Eberic pulled his sled up next to them. "Smoke," he shouted over the gale, pointing up at the roof of the mead hall. Pariah looked and couldn't see anything at first, but then realized there was a hint of white smoke just at the mouths of the two chimneys before it was lost in the wind and snow.
Bjarnson continued to stare at the kennel before turning slowly to look in the same direction. "We need to get inside," he said.
"No!" objected Zariel, who had ridden up to join them. "We must press on. The devastation here is terrible, but more will die if we don't find a way to stop the dragon."
Bjarnson shook his head. "The storm is getting worse. We'll be unable to travel soon. We need to rest here until the weather clears."
"We must press on," Zariel insisted. "If not us, then who? The militias are not prepared for an enemy this strong. We must trust that Lathander will guide us and protect us in this endeavor. The people of Ten-Towns are depending on us and we must not hide from the danger."
Pariah felt a surge of anger. She opened her mouth to launch into a tirade about how this was exactly the attitude that had gotten the Hellriders slaughtered.
But before she could speak, Bjarnson drew himself up to his full height. "Don't you dare act like you are the only one who wants to protect the towns!" he bellowed. "This is our home," he said, waving around him. "I've known the people of Ten-Towns my entire life. I recognized two of those bodies we passed. I know other people in Easthaven. These people," he pointed to the mead house, "need our help now. These people are going to need healers. And we need to rest and get warm so we don't die of exposure. If you want to charge off into the storm on a suicide run, then be my guest. But I'm staying here, and if I'm staying here then the dogs are staying here."
Zariel was stunned by his outburst. Her eyes flicked over the others. Pariah said, "He's right." She had more to say, but this wasn't really the time or place.
"I agree," Eberic said.
Zariel looked in the direction of the road that led out of town, and then her bearing slumped just a bit, and some of the fire went out of her. She turned back. "You are right, of course. Forgive me. I'm afraid my passion got the better of me."
Bjarnson nodded with a grunt. He turned to Eberic and said, "Go inside and see what the situation is. In particular, I want to know where to shelter the dogs." He looked over at Haol and added, "And axe beaks. We'll start unharnessing the teams and unloading our packs."
Notes:
The "storm of the century" is a suggestion from "The Frostmaiden Companion". It forces the group to take a rest, which is important for my Gritty-ish Realism resting rules. Almost all of them are at single-digit HP, and most of their spells are gone. It's going to be interesting.
I had them stop in Good Mead a few chapters back to set up the tragedy of the town's destruction, to make it more personal. It's not the only town that's going to be hit, but it's the first time they have to face up to it.
Chapter 109: A Town Lies Dying
Summary:
The group seeks refuge from the storm in the town of Good Mead, which has been ravaged by the chardalyn dragon.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
While waiting for Eberic to return to the mead hall, the group unloaded their possessions into a pile near the sled without any real plan. Bjarnson unhooked the lines from the sleds, though each team was still harnessed to its line. He and Eberic kept hold of the ropes.
Pariah was in a daze as the enormity of the situation hit her. She looked north, thinking that the dragon might be attacking Dougan's Hole now, and would be in Easthaven in a few hours. She knew resting was the right choice, but that would let the dragon get ahead of them. Were they going to be able to do anything other than follow its path of destruction?
Light spilled out as the door to the mead hall opened. Eberic exited, struggling with the door against the screaming gale. It slammed shut as soon as he let it go. He made his way through the storm to reach them.
"We can take the dogs inside," he shouted. "The kennel master has them on the ground floor. We can shelter upstairs. Most of the town is there, though a few are in their houses. They've gathered the injured in the shrine." He nodded in the direction of the stone building dedicated to Tempus, though they couldn't see it through the swirling snow.
Bjarnson looked indecisively back and forth between the unseen shrine and the mead hall. Pariah said, "I can watch the dogs if you want to go help the wounded." Then again, she thought to herself, nearly all of them qualified as "wounded" so might need to head to the shrine.
He considered that and then shook his head. "Let's get out of the weather for now. Once we've eaten and warmed up, we can figure out what our next step is."
That seemed as good a plan as any, so they started gathering up their packs and other belongings to carry them towards the door. Bjarnson and Eberic also pulled on the lines, bringing the dogs with them. Haol came behind everyone else. The walkway was a little icy but they managed to make it without incident. Zariel forced open the door, and they entered the warmth of the mead hall.
At first glance, the interior was the same as their last visit. A huge communal table with bench seating for a couple of dozen people dominated the room. The bar stood to their left and barrels of mead to their right. At the far end, wings branched off to each side. There, Pariah knew, were the two fireplaces that kept the place warm, and the stairs that led to the second floor. There was a low hum in the air, almost outside of the range of hearing. That would be from the hives, and Pariah took a little comfort from the fact the bees had survived the attack.
However, the festive atmosphere they'd experienced in their last visit was gone. A half-dozen people sat at the table, morosely sipping from their mugs. That group included a human woman wearing a high-necked wool sweater; Pariah remembered her as the bartender. She squinted at the newcomers through the round lenses of her glasses, and said glumly, "If you want a drink, serve yourself. No charge. If you want food, go upstairs."
None of the other locals spared a look at the group, not even at the axe beak who had squeezed through the door, or the angel flying around their heads.
There were also dogs in the space, though it was hard to tell how many from here. They had gathered at the far end near the fireplaces. Some trotted out from around the corner to take a look at the visitors. They seemed to have the same melancholy air as the people in the room.
Tyrrel, the kennel master, came around the corner as well. He approached the group, though he had eyes only for the dogs. He scanned them over with sad eyes. "Twenty-four if I remember right," he said. "Unless you lost some."
"No, we didn't lose any," Bjarnson replied as he squatted to start unhooking the dogs from the lines. "Twenty-four."
Tyrrel looked at Haol and gave him a nod, which the axe beak returned. "This one doesn't eat, right?" he asked.
"That's correct," Zariel replied.
Bjarnson hefted one of their bags. "We have meat for the dogs."
"That's good," Tyrrel said in relief, taking the offered bag. "Our supplies are a little short. We'll scavenge once the storm lifts, but right now we aren't sure what's left out there."
"Doesn't matter," said a drunken voice. "It'll all be gone when that thing comes back."
The speaker was a halfling man who had that strange blend of features a lot of older halflings did: a youthful face but wrinkles around his eyes and white in his hair. He was scowling at his mug.
"It won't come back," Zariel said. "It is making a circle around Ten-Towns and then will return to its origin, a duergar fortress in the mountains."
The man looked up at her and sneered, "And you know that how?"
"We are hunting it," she said. "We hope to catch up with it soon and destroy it."
He snorted derisively but didn't reply.
Tyrell had taken the bag of meat towards the back of the room, presumably to thaw it in front of the fire. Some of the party's sled dogs had followed him or were cautiously getting to know the other dogs in the room, but most of the pack stayed near the group who in turn were standing awkwardly in the foyer.
Bjarnson said, "Let's go upstairs and see what Reirak has on the menu. We'll feel better with full bellies."
Pariah remembered the cheerful dwarf cook from their last visit. His warm food and warm character should certainly help their mood.
As they started towards the stairs, the halfling said, "Reirak's dead."
Bjarnson froze midstride. After a pause he said, "Are you sure?"
The halfling just grunted and took a drink from his mug. The bartender -- Pariah hadn't ever learned her name -- said gloomily, "We're sure. A lot of people are missing and we don't know if they are dead or alive, but we saw him." She grimaced. "I saw him."
Bjarnson hung his head and sighed. "How many?" he asked softly, just loud enough to be heard over the muffled scream of the wind from outside.
She shrugged. "Nobody's done a count yet. There are survivors scattered around here, in the shrine, and in their homes, but there's only about forty people here in the hall."
Dejen asked cautiously, "And, if I might ask, what was the population of the town before the attack?"
The bartender looked up at the ceiling. "I think it's...ninety-seven? Wait, Beren had her baby didn't she? So ninety-eight."
Pariah hadn't been paying attention to the sound around her. Mostly she just heard the storm outside, so she hadn't focused on what she could hear in here. But the mention of the baby made her realize she could hear the sounds of the people upstairs who had sought shelter here. Among those sounds she could hear the high-pitched voices of children and the cry of an infant or a toddler.
She had grown up in a brutal environment. She knew bad things happened to children. Somehow she had distanced herself from that, had forgotten how tragedy affected kids as much as or more than adults. She hadn't seen many children during her time in Ten-Towns. Were they kept inside, protected? Or had the harsh conditions been harder on them than on the adults? She hoped it was the former.
But the dragon wasn't going to discriminate. What they'd seen of the pattern of destruction in town had been arbitrary. It didn't care about innocents or non-combatants. It didn't care about temples or houses or farms or kennels. It wasn't trying to gain a military advantage; it was just destroying.
She was too tired at the moment to fully rage against the indiscriminate violence, but the anger simmered inside her. She agreed that they needed rest, but only a little. Once the storm broke, they had to find this thing and stop it, no matter the cost.
They headed upstairs to find the second floor had been entirely rearranged. The tables had been pushed against the far wall and a meager buffet of food had been laid out. Clusters of people were scattered about the room sitting on the floor, mostly near the two fireplaces. The doors to the handful of inn rooms in the hall were open, and more people were packed into those spaces. Everyone huddled together with gloomy expressions. A few of them cried, but most of them just stared off into the distance.
Everyone was sitting or lying on the floor. Some had bedrolls or blankets or fur cloaks under them, but most were on the bare wooden floor. Those who had managed to rescue some of their possessions hugged them, though that seemed to be for comfort rather than out of fear of theft. Tragedy could bring out the worst in people, but it could also bring out the best. Under the surface of the grief, Pariah hoped this was a community that would face the tragedy together.
The room itself seemed to be in good shape, sturdy and undamaged. No wind whistled through cracks in the walls or roof. There were no windows to have been broken. Considering the scarring on the outside, Pariah had been expecting some kind of damage, but the building was solid.
"Bjarnson," said a voice. A fortyish human woman a little shorter than Pariah approached the group. Her uncombed black hair reached past her shoulders. Over her tunic she wore a cloak with a faded insignia on the back.
"Galena," Bjarnson replied. "Glad to see you're all right. I heard about Reirak." He spared her only the slightest glance as his eyes searched the refugees.
"Help yourself," she said dully to the group, waving towards the tables. "No charge, though donations are appreciated. Find yourself a spot to wait out the storm."
Bjarnson continued to scan the people. "Where is Thiala?" he asked.
Pariah remembered that was the name of the eladrin who oversaw the greenhouse, the woman with moss-colored skin and pine needle hair and who was clothed in leaves and vines. She instinctively looked around the room, but no one like that could be seen among the refugees.
"She's in the greenhouse," the woman replied.
Bjarnson's shoulders slumped, and the woman added quickly, "She's still alive -- I mean she was last time anyone saw her -- but she won't come inside. She's just sitting in the wreckage. And she's blue." Then she added, "I don't mean sad, though she's that too. I mean she's turned blue." She waved vaguely at her own body.
She frowned. "It's not the cold. I'm not sure what it is. But when that thing attacked, when it destroyed the greenhouse, she flew into a rage. She turned into something terrible. Her color changed to orange and yellow, and she was surrounded by fire. The militia I've talked too said they were terrified, almost more scared of her than of that thing that attacked. She turned her rage against it, hurt it, chased it off. I hear she even damaged one of its wings bad enough that it was having trouble flying." She shook her head. "I don't know what she became, but I think we're alive because of her."
Galena turned to look towards the wall that bordered on the greenhouse. "Then, when it was gone, she changed again. They say her flames died and the cold surrounded her. Her skin turned blue and she walked into the ruins of the greenhouse. People tried to get her to come inside, but she won't. She won't speak, won't acknowledge anyone. She is just sitting there in the blizzard among her dead flowers."
Bjarnson followed her gaze, his face stony. He said nothing and, after a moment, Galena nodded towards the rest of the group. "Like I said, help yourself." She headed back to the kitchen.
The group stood silently for a moment, and then Zariel said, "We can rest over there."
"No, come here," said a woman's voice. "We'll move."
She was a middle-aged dwarven woman with disheveled hair and a wool scarf hanging loosely around her shoulders. Pariah recognized her from their last visit and struggled to remember her name: Olivessa, a local cooper. Next to her was her husband, Gord, an older human man with a patchy white beard. As the woman beckoned the newcomers over, she said to the others, "Come on, make some room," and the people around her started to shift their belongings to clear space near one of the fireplaces.
Zariel said, "Thank you, but you don't need to do that."
"Nonsense," Olivessa insisted. "You've just come in from the storm. You need the fire. Come. Sit."
No one seemed bothered by having to move, and many gave the newcomers welcoming smiles -- or at least as welcoming as they could be while grieving the loss of their town.
Reluctantly, Zariel said, "Very well. But just long enough to get warm."
As they moved into the warm space, Olivessa said, "Innok, Terhi, fetch our guests hot drinks."
A half-orc teenage boy and a human woman stood. Pariah said, "That's really not necessary. We have our own," though as she said that, she knew the thermos probably hadn't refilled quite yet.
The two were already headed towards the kitchen. "It's no bother," Olivessa assured her. "And, to be fair, the tea's so weak it's not much more than hot water."
Bjarnson had taken his bedroll and blankets out of his pack. He stood, holding them, and said, "I'm going to go check on Thiala."
"I'll come with you," said Pariah, starting to stand.
"No," he said firmly. "I'd rather do this on my own."
His face was rigid. She didn't need her old devil's sight to feel the pain radiating off of him. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't know if it's safe for any of us to be alone in this storm."
"I'll be fine," he said. "I'll be back shortly."
He walked over to another group of townspeople and distributed his bedding to them before heading for the stairs. Pariah glanced at her pack and realized that they could easily all buy new blankets when this was over. She started pulling out her own bedding and the others in the group followed suit.
Innok and Terhi returned with steaming mugs that they passed out to the four of them. Pariah thanked them and then nodded to the pile of bedding. "Would you mind passing those out to anyone who needs them?" She could have distributed them at random, but locals would probably know who was most in need.
Olivessa said, "Thank you. You are very kind."
"Got to stick together in a crisis," Pariah said.
Rather than taking from the town's food supplies, they pulled rations out of their packs. Zariel said, "Before we leave, we should probably give our remaining food to them."
"Except the meat for the dogs," Pariah said. Her mind had already been working in the same direction. Their rations wouldn't amount to a lot of food, not even a meal for a group this size, but every little bit would help. Bjarnson had brought in only a part of the meat they had. There was one more sack. She looked around and didn't see it; he must have left it on the sled so it could stay frozen.
As they ate and drank and warmed their bodies, they talked with the townspeople. Olivessa and Gord were chatty; the other locals less so, but then they had their own problems. He was a logger and she was a cooper. Both had lived here their whole lives. They had been unable to have their own children, but had adopted a human girl named Kabri who was now married to a sailor and lived in Fireshear.
That was the kind of superficial conversations they had. Nobody wanted to talk about the attack or the deaths or the town's grim future. Dejen did ask if the speaker had been warned of the attack, but nobody knew. He was one of the missing.
Pariah and her companions told equally trivial stories of their own life. Even Zariel, the centuries-old former angel and devil, talked about her travels from Dagger Falls to Candlekeep, though was light on the details.
Lulu was a big hit. Many of the people took the presence of an angel as a sign that the gods would bless them in this dark time. Pariah managed to avoid making snarky comments about the gods' disinterest in the fates of mortals. Hard work and community, not divine intervention, was how these people would weather this tragedy. But that's not what they needed to hear right now. Let them hope, and use that hope to rebuild.
Bjarnson was gone long enough for Pariah to worry. She kept shooting glances towards the stairs and was relieved when he finally came up from below. He sat among them and lowered his hood to stare into the fire. His eyes were red-rimmed and tears were frozen into his beard.
The group waited for him to speak. Dejen said, "I'll get you something hot to drink," and headed for the kitchen.
After a while, Pariah prompted Bjarnson, "How'd it go?"
He continued to stare into the fire. "It's like they said. She won't come inside. She won't speak." He shook his head. "I can try again once the storm breaks, but I don't think that's going to change. I think she's just waiting to die. And with this cold, it won't be long."
Eberic said, "We could drag her inside whether she wants to or not. For her own safety."
Bjarnson wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "I thought about that, but it's not that easy. She didn't just tend the greenhouse; she was the greenhouse. When it died, she died. Her body just hasn't caught up yet. She should go out on her own terms."
Pariah's brow furrowed as she considered how to choose her words. "There's nothing I value more than personal choice, but this is a choice she is making in grief. A choice with very permanent consequences. If she is ready to lay down and die, then she can do that where it's warm, where she has a chance to think it through and change her mind."
"Bringing her inside won't save her," he said as he took the mug of tea that Dejen had brought.
"Maybe," Pariah admitted, "but it won't hurt her either, and it gives her time."
The townspeople nearby had grown quiet as they listened in on the discussion. Olivessa said, "We've had this same conversation. Everyone in this town loves her, and not just because she's the backbone of our town industry. None of us want her gone, but none of us want to disrespect her choices."
Bjarnson lowered the mug from the long drink he'd taken. "Eladrin have a strong connection to nature, more so than even the elves do. Removing her from that will do more harm than good."
Dejen asked tentatively, "Is that why she changed? They said she changed color. I believe I've heard that eladrin are tied to the seasons."
"Yes," Bjarnson replied somberly. "The green of spring is the aspect of growth and renewal. The brightness of the summer sun is the aspect of aggression and anger. And the cold of winter is the aspect of sorrow."
"And autumn?" Dejen asked. "I assume there is a fourth.
"The brown of autumn is the aspect of peace and healing."
"Then maybe that should be the natural order of things," Dejen mused to himself. He pulled out his quill and started scribbling absentmindedly in the air. "The eladrin aspects might tie to the seasonal order and manipulate the-"
"Not now!" Bjarnson snapped with surprising anger. "This is not the time for your questions and your research. This is a time for grief."
Dejen was stunned by his outburst. He didn't seem offended, just surprised. Hesitantly he said, "I think you're wrong. Summer is followed by autumn, not winter. Spring grew the greenhouse. Summer defended the town. But she skipped past autumn, the season of peace and healing, and went right to winter. I think, at present, this town needs peace and healing to be strong enough for the sorrow."
Bjarnson stared at the other man as his angry expression slowly faded. "That's...that's actually a good point."
"And maybe -- I don't know eladrin society and biology well enough to know for sure -- but maybe it's what she needs. Maybe violating the natural order of seasons is, well, unhealthy."
Bjarnson turned to look at the wall behind them, the wall that was shared with the greenhouse. "I don't think it really works that way."
Pariah said, "But maybe it's what she needs to process this tragedy."
He let out a heavy breath. "She isn't going to want to come inside. She's lived her whole life out there among the natural forces."
Lulu said, "Maybe we could put her with the bees. The hives are warm, right?" The last question was aimed at Olivessa.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Not as warm as the rest of the building, since they have to be open to the outside, but they are protected from the wind, hail, and the worst of the cold."
"That's true," Bjarnson said.
Pariah said, "So we tell her all this and bring her into the hives."
"What if she won't come?"
Eberic said, "Then we bring her inside anyhow, like I said."
Bjarnson frowned at him, and then Zariel said gently, "Even the strongest warriors have to be carried when they are wounded."
Bjarnson started to tear up. He wiped his eyes and said, "All right. We'll try it. But if she struggles, if she fights us, then we leave her to go out as she wants."
There was a weak mumble that wasn't quite agreement but wasn't an argument.
Bjarnson stood up, as did the rest of the group. So did a half dozen of the locals. Bjarnson said, "I don't think we need this many people."
Olivessa started putting on her furs. "Well, we're coming anyhow."
Notes:
The dragon's damaged wing is my own idea. It can still fly but only erratically. That makes it slower and easier to catch up to, and easier to fight since he has to keep landing. Originally it was going to have the damaged wing from the start -- that was the flaw that Xardorok was berating his workers about -- but I liked the idea of Thiala crippling it better.
Originally I had planned them to leave Thiala to die as she wanted, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that's a problematic option. Pariah's comment about believing in personal choice, but also recognizing when people's choices are short-sighted and something they may regret, was meant to frame the balance in that decision about whether to intervene. Besides, I already did the "let the suicidal person walk away" scene in Avernus (the sorcerer they found in Elturel fighting devils).
I still wasn't sure how I was going to handle that in a way that made sense, and I wasn't sure if I was going to leave her to die anyhow. Dejen's observation about how autumn has to follow summer made it feel natural and let me write a more satisfying ending.
Rejected chapter titles include "But Why is the Mead Gone?"
Finally, as of today, AO3 is adding lots of HTML "noise" when I paste as Rich Text. It doesn't *seem* to mess up the display and formatting, but let me know in the comments if anything looks wonky.
Chapter 110: Grief and Rage
Summary:
The town of Good Mead weathers the violent storm as the survivors huddle in the few remaining buildings. The party joins the townspeople as they try to convince Thiala, the eladrin who ran the greenhouse, to come inside.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Pariah was struck by an overwhelming sense of grief as she saw the lone figure sitting among the wreckage of the greenhouse as the storm raged around her. There was something uniquely tragic about it, something that touched her more deeply than seeing the bodies, or the frightened survivors huddled for warmth while clutching their few possessions. She had the overwhelming desire to sit down in the snow right next to the druid and wait for the cold to take them both.
Galena had been right when she'd said Thiala was blue. The vines and leaves that surrounded her had turned deep cobalt, as had her skin. Her hair had been like pine needles before, but now thin icicles grew from her scalp and draped her mournful face. There were ice crystals on her cheeks that Pariah had at first assumed were from the wind, but she realized they were frozen tears that fell from Thiala's eyes as she stared at the devastation around her.
The eladrin woman didn't move as the dozen locals and visitors approached her. Most of them hung back but Bjarnson, Olivessa, Gord and one other fur-clad local crouched down next to the druid. Pariah couldn't hear what they said to her, shouting to be heard over the wind. Thiala didn't react. The four of them put their arms around her and continued to talk but there was no change in her attitude.
Finally, they released Thiala from their embrace and Bjarnson waved Zariel over. The two of them stood on either side of the eladrin. They each slipped one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, and then lifted her cross-legged form off the ground. She didn't move, didn't fight, didn't even seem to notice what was happening. They carried her through the blowing snow, past rows of withered flowers and barren shrubs towards the entrance to the hive as the townspeople ran ahead to open the door.
They brought her inside and laid her down gently on the wooden floor. The others followed them in, crowding together among the wooden hive boxes. No bees flew around, though the hives buzzed with activity. The air in the room was cool but still warmer than the outside.
Thiala stared at nothing as tears of ice dropped from her eyes, rolled across her cheeks and clattered to the floor to melt into tiny puddles. Olivessa said, "All right, folks, thanks for the support but let's move along. I'll sit with her for a while."
As they all started to move towards the door on the far side that led to the first floor common room, Eberic moved to block his companions. He asked Gord, "Where does that go?"
He was pointing to another door on the far side of the inner wall. Gord replied, "That's a store room."
The dwarf walked over and opened the door to look inside. "That'll do," he said with a nod. He turned to his companions and said, "We need to talk. Away from the others. Lulu, can you cast a light in here?"
Pariah and her friends exchanged glances. What was this about?
They headed over and into the store room. It was a fairly large space. Stacks of wood filled most of the room and barrels most of the rest. There was a table leaned up against the wall, three chairs stacked in a corner, and several unmarked wooden crates. There was plenty of room for the group to gather as Lulu lit up one of the logs to illuminate the space.
Eberic closed the door and leaned back against it. Frowning at Zariel he asked, "Why did the duergar priest know you? What was that nonsense about heaven and hell? Who are you?" He narrowed his eyes. "What are you?"
Oh, right, Pariah thought to herself. That.
Zariel seemed stunned by the sudden questions, unable to respond right away. Pariah told him, "It's complicated."
"You said that already," Eberic responded. "And you said 'later'. Fine. I waited. It's later. Now tell us what's going on."
A silence descended over the group. Everyone was watching Zariel as she struggled with how to respond. Pariah wanted to intervene, but she wasn't sure what to say either. Besides, this wasn't her secret to share. She didn't know what Zariel was going to say, though Pariah would back whatever story the woman came up with.
Zariel sighed and leaned back against one of the barrels. "I am sorry. I never liked deceiving all of you, especially as we spent more time together. But my story is a lot to digest. It is quite unbelievable, and it is quite..." She searched unsuccessfully for an appropriate word. She continued, "You all struggled when you found that Pariah had made a deal with a devil. Imagine how much more you will struggle when you find that one of us used to be a devil."
The group puzzled over that statement. Dejen said hesitantly, "You are speaking metaphorically of course."
Zariel shook her head. "No. Not metaphorically."
Pariah didn't move, but the others shifted away from Zariel slightly, stepping away so that Zariel and Lulu were alone on the other side of the room.
Zariel continued, "For aeons, I was an aasimon, one of the celestial beings from the Upper Planes. I was a soldier of the Seven Heavens and I faithfully served Lathander. I defended the light against the darkness, order against chaos. I stood against Ashmedai during his rebellion, before he became the devil now called Asmodeus. For countless centuries, I stood for all that is good and right."
She sighed, "And then I lost my way."
She stared at the floor as her brow furrowed. "There are many reasons why I did, but they don't matter right now. I let my pride and my wrath consume me. I defied Heaven and Lathander to lead my own war against the Abyss, and in doing so I lost myself. In my blind hatred of the demons, I swore fealty to Asmodeus and I became something foul and corrupt."
She squeezed her eyes against the tears that started. In a broken voice she said, "I brought much pain to the world after that. I committed atrocities. I betrayed those who had trusted me. I reveled in my rage, and felt justified because it was all to destroy the demons. I..." She clenched her teeth.
She released a shaky breath as she looked at the group again. "But with the help of others, I was able to see the light again. I was able to reclaim my divinity and leave my evil past behind. I returned to Heaven, but I was not welcomed. Lathander judged me harshly and cast me out to live down here as a mortal. And so now I do what I can to live a righteous life and atone for the terrible things in my past."
Eberic scowled at Lulu. "And you knew this?"
"I did," the asteri admitted. "We've been friends for centuries."
"And were you a devil too?" he asked accusingly.
It was Zariel who responded. "No!" she said emphatically. "Lulu never strayed from the path even as I did. She searched the Hells for me so she could bring me back to who I used to be. She has been faithful both to the Heavens and to me all along."
Pariah wasn't so sure Lulu had been that faithful to Heaven. Her loyalty to Zariel had nearly been her undoing as well, but there was no point in saying that now.
"You knew about this too, Pariah," Bjarnson said, a statement not a question. "You said 'mortals'. You said that mortals had suffered because of her."
Talona's tits, Pariah thought to herself. That slip of the tongue was never going to stop haunting her.
"Yes," she admitted, not sure how much else to disclose.
Zariel said, "She was one of the ones who helped me see the light, who brought me back from the Hells."
"And you never told us?" Bjarnson said to Pariah sharply.
"No, I didn't. I didn't think it mattered. People have the right to their secrets as long as they don't affect the group." She tried not to pointedly stare at him, but hoped he saw the parallel with his own secret history.
"It affected us," he responded. "We are all pretty banged up because someone from her past decided to get back at her."
Eberic said, "I don't think I'm comfortable traveling with a devil."
"She's not a devil!" Lulu said hotly.
"She's as good as one," he insisted. "I don't believe you can just leave such evil behind."
Pariah said, "Do you think she can leave the good of being an angel behind? She was an angel for thousands of years. She was a devil for far less than that. If you think she's still a devil then you have to believe she's still an angel."
Eberic grumbled but didn't have a response.
She pressed on, "Look, I understand. I've been conflicted too. I know better than any of you -- well, other than Lulu -- the terrible things she has done. My friends were hurt by it. But this isn't the devil Zariel any more than it's the angel Zariel. This is the mortal Zariel and she's...I don't know, something else. I'm saying you should judge her by who she is now, by the person you've gotten to know. Is this person," Pariah pointed at her, "something evil or not?"
Nobody spoke right away. Eberic and Bjarnson were upset, but Dejen was staring off thoughtfully. Pariah honestly wondered whether he was listening to the conversation at all or if he was thinking about something else. And then he said abruptly, "Pariah, the devil who took that city from the Material Plane, the devil you went to the Nine Hells to stop. You said you didn't remember its name. Is that true?"
Pariah sighed. She was tempted to lie, but this was not the time for more falsehoods. "No," she admitted. "It was the devil Zariel."
"I see," he replied, looking up thoughtfully.
"There!" Eberic said. "A city of people condemned to the Hells because of her. We can't trust her."
"No," Pariah insisted. "I mean, yes, sort of, but the devil Zariel. She chose to reclaim her divinity, and the angel Zariel lifted that city out of Hell and returned it to the mortal plane. She freed the souls that the devil Zariel had unfairly trapped. And she saved my soul by breaking my pact with Levistus."
"So that's it," he sneered at her. "You owe her so you feel obligated to defend her."
"No!" Pariah shouted, but then glanced at the closed door. This wasn't a conversation anyone else needed to be hearing. Lowering her voice she said, "Yes, I'm grateful, but I'd be the first one to stand against her if I thought she was on the wrong path. Hells, you've all seen me stand against her when I think she's out of line. I'm not her lackey, but I am trying to be her friend. I'm trying to help her understand what it means to be mortal, even if that means sometimes being stupid and reckless and selfish like the rest of us. You've had your whole lives to learn how to deal with the pull of good and evil within all of us. She's been mortal only for, what, two years?"
She directed that last question at Zariel who said, "Yes, about that long."
Eberic snorted derisively. "You just said she's centuries old so she's been dealing with that far longer than any of us."
"It's not the same," Zariel said. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "It's hard to explain. There is a...purity to Outer Planes existence." She frowned. "I don't mean that mortals are impure. Maybe it would be better to call it simplicity or clarity. As an aasimon, my thoughts were of order and benevolence. Yes, some stray from that path as I did, but it is extremely rare. I am deeply ashamed of my fall, but even as a fiend my thoughts were clear and simple. As a mortal..." She shook her head. "My head is full of the constant noise of conflicting goals and moralities. I am pulled in all directions by any number of desires and ideas. It is a wonder you don't all go mad."
She looked over the group and said, "Yes, I admit the anger of the fiend still burns in me, but so does the love and loyalty of a celestial, and the latter is stronger than the former. I pray every day for the strength to be a faithful servant of Lathander, and I am grateful for the help of others like Lulu and Pariah. I am truly sorry I did not tell you all the truth sooner, and I swear I will be honest moving forward."
Eberic didn't look satisfied.
Pariah said, "Right now, we have a dragon to fight. We have to cooperate for the sake of the people of Ten-Towns. After that, fine, we can go our separate ways if that's what you want, but we have to stand together for now. Agreed?"
"Agreed," both Zariel and Lulu said nearly in unison.
"Agreed," Dejen said.
"Yes, I agree," Bjarnson said with less enthusiasm.
Eberic scowled at them all before saying, "Fine!" He huffed in frustration. "Is that it? Are there any other secrets? Any more devils or devil worshippers?" Pariah frowned at him apparently categorizing her as a devil worshipper, but she didn't object. He continued, "Any other members of secret cults? Anyone else have anything to admit?"
Pariah held his gaze, wondering if Bjarnson was about to speak up, but he said nothing.
Hoping to lighten the mood, Pariah said gravely, "Well, I suppose I should tell you I'm actually Auril in disguise. I've been secretly plotting against you the whole time."
Her tactic worked, and a weak chuckle went around the group. Eberic just grunted, but it was a less cranky grunt than his usual. She said, "So, with that out of the way, shall we head upstairs?"
"Actually," Zariel said, "I'd like to go to the shrine and see if I can help with the injured."
"That's a good idea," Bjarnson said. "I'll go with you."
"Me too," said Lulu.
Pariah debated but said, "I don't think I'd be any help so I think I'll stay here in the mead hall." Dejen and Eberic felt the same.
They exited the storeroom into the hive, and then went out through the double set of doors between the hive room and the ground floor common room. Bjarnson said the arrangement made it easier to keep the bees out of the main room where they would be cut off from the hives.
As Pariah climbed the stairs to the upper floor, the deep sensation of grief she'd been feeling suddenly lifted. She was still gloomy about the tragedy that had struck the town, but it wasn't so overwhelming.
Dejen, behind her on the stairs, made a thoughtful noise. "That's strange," he mumbled to himself.
"What is?" she asked as she stopped. Eberic, in the lead, continued up the stairs.
"I was feeling quite overwhelming sadness, but it suddenly stopped." He took a couple of steps down and his face fell. He took a shaky breath. "And there it is again." He climbed back up the stairs and then sighed in relief. "And gone. Strange."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm not sure though I wonder..." He trailed off as he looked towards the door to the hives. "I wish I had references on eladrin. Can they project emotions? Could I have been feeling her own grief?"
"Maybe," Pariah admitted. "I felt it too. We can ask Bjarnson when he gets back."
They entered the common room to find Eberic dragging their things away from the fire. "What are you doing?" Pariah asked, though out of curiosity rather than irritation.
"We're warmed up now," he said. "Other people need the fire."
"That's true," she admitted as she looked over the crowd.
They relocated their packs to a different part of the room and several of the older residents moved into their place. Pariah fetched another round of hot water as the three of them settled in to wait.
Dejen asked some of the locals about the sorrow he had felt. Nobody knew for sure, but many people said that the greenhouse had always elicited a joyful feeling in anyone who visited it. They had assumed it was the greenery. Someone else pointed out that the militia near Thiala during the battle had felt afraid; maybe that had been her doing as well.
With that in mind, it probably wasn't good for Olivessa to sit with her too long. Several people quickly volunteered to relieve her, since everyone agreed Thiala shouldn't be alone right now. They all hoped she could pass through this mourning period.
The storm showed no sign of lessening. Some of the older people said this was the worst storm they'd seen in a decade. Pariah mulled over the idea that this might be some kind of tantrum by Auril, but why? It was unlikely the goddess cared about the duergar or the dragon attack. The adventurers hadn't done anything recently that might draw her attention. Perhaps it was just coincidence, like some of the other storms. Or perhaps it was something summoned by the Aurilites to drive more locals to worship their goddess out of fear.
After a while, Eberic went to sleep. Dejen examined the amulet they had gotten from Xardorok and said it wasn't magic, so it wasn't controlling the dragon. He then pulled out a book and started to read. Pariah tried to read as well but couldn't concentrate, so mostly she just fretted. After an hour had passed, she started to worry about Bjarnson and Zariel. In hindsight, Lulu should have stayed with them at the mead hall to keep communication open. As the time approached two hours, Pariah said to Dejen, "I'm going to head over to the shrine and check in on the others. I'll be back in a bit."
"All right," he nodded absently, not tearing his eyes away from his book; she wasn't sure he'd even heard her.
She grabbed her cloak and other winter gear and headed downstairs. She felt the sorrow overtake her again. She noticed that the dogs and the people had gathered at the side of the room away from the hives and, as she grew close to the door, she felt the sorrow fade. Apparently they were all feeling it.
Haol sat in a corner, watching the room alertly. "How's it going?" she asked him.
He stared at her silently, which wasn't surprising because he didn't understand Chondathan. That was a pity because he had a mental link with Zariel. Then again, the fact he was calm should mean that Zariel was fine.
"OK, OK," she said. "Don't talk my ear off."
The people in the room looked at her like she was crazy, but she just laughed.
The door got away from her as the wind tore it from her hand and slammed it against the wall. She grabbed it and struggled to push it closed after she'd exited into the blizzard. She'd hoped the situation might seem less dire outside than inside, but visibility was nearly zero and the wind was like knives across the skin of her face. She pulled her scarf up over her mouth and wished she'd brought her goggles.
It was hard to tell there was even a road here. She struggled forward until she reached the remains of the kennel and then turned right. She followed the shell of the building and then kept walking. It wasn't long before she saw lights ahead from the small windows high up in the stone wall of the shrine to Tempus. The wind was coming from behind her so she didn't have to fight to make progress, but the ground was treacherous and she was afraid it would blow her off her feet. She reached the building without incident and pushed open the door.
She managed to keep the door from slamming open, though not by much, and then she struggled to push it closed. A human woman with intense brown eyes rushed up to help her shut the wooden door. She dropped the latch and then nodded to Pariah. "Evening," she said.
Pariah gave her a tired smile. "Evening," she replied.
"Are you injured?" the woman asked as she looked Pariah over, though she wouldn't have been able to see anything since her cloak was closed.
Pariah was bruised from the fights in Sunblight, and had several punctures in her right arm from the barbed devil's tail, though the bleeding from the latter had stopped due to the healing potion she had gulped in combat. Bjarnson should look at the wound when he got a chance, but mostly she just needed rest that she wasn't going to get.
"No, I'm fine," she lied. "I'm just here to check on my friends."
The space was smaller than the common area of the guild hall, and a tight fit for the twenty or so people here, especially because most of them were lying down, and about a third of the room was a raised area that surrounded a statue of a warrior who held a sword and shield. He held the weapon high as he glared defiantly at nothing. He was armored, though his arms and legs were bare and crisscrossed with gashes. The statue had been painted once and, though most of the color had flaked off, the red paint in his wounds looked almost fresh. She recognized this as Tempus, the same god in the temple in Easthaven. Zariel was kneeling in front of the statue, her head bowed in prayer. Lulu was sitting next to her and gave Pariah a little wave; Pariah gave a quick smile in return. The warming stone was on the ground on Zariel's other side, its magic keeping the space at a comfortable temperature.
Bjarnson was sitting up in a corner, though his head was leaning against the wall and his eyes were closed. Pariah didn't want to interrupt Zariel's prayers so she picked her way through the crowd of injured people towards Bjarnson. Many of them were asleep as well. The ones that were awake stared at the ceiling with haunted expressions.
"Are you awake?" she asked Bjarnson softly.
"Just resting my eyes," he said, opening them to give her an exhausted smile.
She squatted down. "How are things here?"
He sighed heavily as his eyes scanned the crowd. Quietly he said, "We lost two since I came, and there are three more I'm worried about. Nothing life-threatening among the rest, though there are some permanent injuries among the survivors."
Pariah looked over the injured locals. Forty people in the mead hall, twenty here, that left forty unaccounted for. Well, that wasn't true. They had seen some of the dead so they weren't exactly unaccounted for, just not actually counted.
She felt the anger rising in her again. These people weren't a threat. This wasn't an army. They were hunters and loggers, beekeepers and mead makers. From the stories she'd heard, if it hadn't been for Thiala's magic the entire town might have been razed. And for what?
Like they didn't have enough problems as they suffered through two years of a divine tantrum. From what Bjarnson and Eberic had said, hundreds of people had died during the Everlasting Rime. And maybe Grandolpha would do as she said and the duergar would retreat, but there was a devil cult gaining power in Caer-Dineval, and they would do nothing but bring more misery to the area.
Her eyes fell on the statue of Tempus, and the heat rose inside her. What had the gods done to help? These weren't even her own people, but she was enraged at how they had been abandoned. She'd grown up among the forgotten people, the ones who got overlooked by both gods and guards during disasters. Long before the Everlasting Rime, she had seen the chaos in Baldur's Gate caused by Bhaal's worshippers during the Sundering, and how much worse it affected the people in the Outer City even to this day. And, of course, there was what had happened to the people of Elturel.
Pariah stood. "And where were you?" she shouted across the shrine.
Zariel turned in surprise. "Excuse me?" she asked.
Pariah stalked across the room, trying not to step on anyone in her way. "Where in the Nine Hells were you, God of War?" she demanded of the statue. "Where were you when these people were fighting? Was this not important? Was this not enough of a war for you? Because it was sure as fuck a war to them! Are your precious feelings hurt because your statue is dusty? Did they not kiss your ass enough to be worthy of your attention?" She balled up her fist, but even in her rage she knew punching stone was probably a bad idea. Struggling to think of what he would find most insulting, she spat, "Coward!"
Zariel had stood. "Pariah," she said evenly as she put a hand on the tiefling's shoulder, "calm down."
Pariah slapped her hand away and whirled on her. "No! This is not the time to be calm. This is not the time to be peaceful. This was the time to fight, and he was not here to help them. We'll have to take care of this. We mortals. Again! People are dead today. I'm sorry they aren't people who are important. I'm sorry they are nobodies like me, but they are dead because they couldn't depend on their god to help them. And what about Easthaven? He has a temple there, but will they be worthy of his attention? Did Amaunator stop his priest from being murdered? Did Tyr, Torm and Ilmater? And did the fucking God of War get off his lazy ass and help the people here? No, so we have to fight without their thrice damned blessings!"
Zariel's eyes grew wide and she stepped back. "Pariah, I really think you need to stop."
Pariah opened her mouth to continue her tirade, but she realized that Zariel was looking past her. The people in the room had sat up to watch her diatribe, but now they were shifting away from her.
With a sinking feeling, Pariah turned around to look at the statue of Tempus. Two things had changed. First, the eyes that had been staring off into the distance were now clearly focused on her. Second, the stone sword in his hand burned with a fierce orange flame. She could feel the heat of it on her face.
Oh, shit, she thought to herself.
Notes:
Chapter 110 -- this is where Avernus ended. My estimate is that this story is only about 50-60% done.
As usual, Forgotten Realms lore is inconsistent about what angels actually are. Good mortals might be turned into agathinon who in turn might be turned into angels. Or archons, celestial creatures not formed from mortal souls, might be promoted to angels. Or maybe they are formed from the astral essence of the gods themselves.
The good news is that AO3 is not putting all that weird HTML crap it put in last week. That must have been a temporary glitch from the last site update.
Chapter 111: God of War
Summary:
Pariah appears to have awoken the statue of Tempus. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 28, 1496 (12 days after the New Moon)
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, Pariah thought in a panic. Did he hear me?
She had meant what she said, but she didn't think he was actually listening. She wasn't stupid. Regardless of how angry she was, she would have shown a little deference towards someone so powerful. That was just common sense.
The statue of Tempus hadn't moved. He was in the same heroic pose, his sword held high, his shield before him, his expression defiant. His unarmored arms and legs were marked with countless wounds. The paint on the statue was faded and cracked, except for the gashes, which were bright crimson. The head hadn't turned, but the eyes had pivoted to watch her critically. And, most notably, the stone sword burned with a real flame.
She froze, waiting for something to happen. Should she fall to her knees? Should she apologize? As defiant as she could be, she knew there were times to kowtow to the strong. Or should she stand proudly, showing her strength?
And then the sword moved.
No, that's not right. The sword stayed where it was, but an image of the sword pulled away from it. What was left behind was the stone sword held by Tempus's effigy, no longer burning. What moved away from the statue was a sword with a grip wrapped in dark leather, and a silver cross guard and pommel. An intense flame burned along the wide silver blade, leaving black scorch marks along the surface. She could hear the flame flicker and feel the heat on her face as it neared.
The sword stopped in front of her, floating vertically with its hilt at about chest level. And then...nothing. She glanced at the statue, which was still staring at her, and then back at the sword.
"What am I supposed to do?" she hissed over her shoulder.
Zariel said, "I think you are supposed to take it."
Pariah wasn't sure she agreed, but neither the sword nor the statue were giving her any hints. She took a breath to steel herself and then reached out to grip the hilt.
Her hand passed through the image.
She pursed her lips. "So it's just a joke?" she mumbled to herself.
Something pounded on the door -- once, twice, three times. Pariah's heart leapt into her throat as she, along with everyone else, turned to look at the door shut against the raging storm outside. She said, "If that's Tempus, tell him I'm not here."
"It's not," Zariel said. She crossed to the door and pulled it open, bracing against the gale that pushed against it. Haol stood outside in the blizzard. He met Pariah's eyes and then settled to the ground in his mounting position. The sword floated away from Pariah and out the door.
"Follow it," Zariel told her. "Quickly, before it is out of sight."
"Follow it?" Pariah replied incredulously. "Where?"
"I don't know, but Haol has been told to take you there."
Pariah eyed the axe beak. He wasn't saddled and she wasn't sure how easy it would be to ride a giant running bird through the storm of the decade. "I don't know," she said.
"Go!" Zariel insisted. "Do not insult him further. Follow his sign."
Pariah gritted her teeth as her rebellious nature surfaced. She looked at the statue, which returned her gaze stonily, and then she looked back out the door.
"Quickly," Zariel said, walking over to tug at Pariah's arm. "You asked for his help. Do not refuse it when offered."
"Is that what this is?" she asked skeptically. Or was he just luring her to her horrible death.
Zariel had dragged her halfway to the door. "Go!" she said again.
Pariah dithered, but finally said, "Fine!"
She tried to wrap her cloak around her but the shrieking wind tore it open again. She threw a leg over Haol's back and settled down, only to nearly fall off as he stood up suddenly. She had no experience riding an axe beak at all, much less bareback. She hugged his neck as he started running after the image of the flaming sword that was barely visible through the blowing snow. It was just as well the sun had set, because sometimes she couldn't see anything other than the fire's glow in the darkness ahead.
She tried to find a stable position but there was nothing to grab onto other than Haol's neck. She tried to keep her grip loose, not wanting to accidentally strangle him, but the alternative was to grab his feathers and she suspected those would pull out. In the end, she just buried herself against his neck, transferring the panicked grip of her arms down to his chest. With a face full of feathers, she held on as they rode into the storm. The wind was coming from behind so she was able to keep her hood up, but her cloak was flying loose behind her and providing little insulation. Luckily, the bird underneath her was warm.
He didn't slow as he charged boldly into the storm and the darkness. She pulled her face out of his feathers now and then to make sure she could still see a hint of the glow they were following, and then she hunkered down again. She hoped they weren't planning to run all the way to the Reghed Glacier.
Then again that wasn't her biggest worry. Based on the wind direction, she guessed they were running east, which meant they were running across the ice of the Redwaters. Sure the ice was probably thick here after two years of temperatures well below freezing, but she also knew the lakes had hot springs. The Redwaters themselves got warm water from the Howling River, which was roughly the direction they were going. That meant the ice would only get thinner the longer they ran.
She wished she'd brought Lulu, not only for the company but so she could talk to Haol. Pariah didn't know where they were going, didn't know why he was helping. Zariel said he'd been asked. By Tempus? That seemed unlikely. Despite her tirade, she didn't really think one of the gods had deigned to notice her, though maybe one of his minions had. Zariel said she had some kind of celestial guide who advised her in dreams. Had it been him? But then he was probably a servant of Lathander, not Tempus. Did those two gods get along?
Pariah had no idea, but she also had nothing else to do but watch the ground pass by under Haol's feet. Now she wished she'd thought to grab Dejen's timepiece so she could at least know how long they had been traveling. She tried tallying Haol's footsteps but got bored quickly and lost count.
She made several futile attempts to grab her billowing cloak and pull it around her but she couldn't afford to release her grip on Haol. The icy temperatures penetrated her flesh and she started to shiver. She added "coffee bottle" and "warming stone" to the list of things she wished she'd brought.
Haol stopped suddenly, the talons on his foot scraping across the hard ground. Pariah was caught by surprise, lost her grip, and fell to the hard ice. "Hey!" she yelled at the bird angrily.
She lay there for a moment, breathless even though Haol had been doing all the work. The impact had awakened the pain in her bruises from the fighting earlier in the day, plus the cold had sucked out her energy. Maybe she'd rest here for just a moment.
Pariah grumbled to herself, knowing that it was dangerous to let that need to rest take over. She pushed herself up to a position sitting on her heels as she pulled her fur cloak around her.
The image of the flaming sword floated before her and then it sank into the ice, leaving them in darkness.
She stared nonplussed at the spot in the surface of the frozen lake. There was nothing there other than rough, blue ice covered in blowing snow. She had expected open water. She looked around and could see nothing except ice in every direction. She was suddenly aware that she didn't know how to get back to Good Mead.
She jumped as something impacted the ice. She turned to see Haol straighten up and then bring his head down again. His blade-like beak slammed into the ice where the sword had disappeared, sending chips flying. He pulled up and struck again.
He had managed to dig a shallow gouge but the ice might be several feet thick here. She knew from having talked to Bjarnson that a pick rather than an axe would be a better tool, but they didn't have one. Nor did she have her crowbar or handaxe. She had her sword, which would break before she did much more than scratch the surface of the ice. Her magic was mostly cold-based, and that wasn't going to help. She looked around again, hoping for even a rock, but there was nothing.
She drew her dagger. That might work, though she still wasn't sure she would get far before the blade broke. Then again, better her blade than Haol's beak.
"Hey!" she shouted, waving to get the axe beak's attention.
He looked at her and she showed him her dagger, and then mimed chipping the ice. He looked at the groove he had dug, back at her knife, and then started chopping again.
"Fine," she said with a shrug as she sheathed her knife. She pulled the cloak more tightly around her to watch him chop.
He dug down about a hand's width before he backed away. He nodded towards her and then to the hole. It took her a moment to get his meaning, and then she drew her dagger. He motioned towards the knife and then the hole, and she nodded. She knelt before the hole and started stabbing down.
She couldn't wear gloves and keep a good grip, so she had to work bare-handed. Her fingers got numb quickly but she pressed on. Her muscles burned and she was out of breath. What the hell was she doing? Why was she digging a hole in the ice in the middle of a storm? Because some sword told her to? This was madness.
But she kept chipping away.
As her movements slowed, Haol nudged her out of the way and he resumed digging. They continued in that manner, taking turns to dig a hole into the ice. Time passed, measured only by the blows against the ice and by her steadily falling body temperature. She shivered in her cloak, but with no source of heat she had no way to warm herself.
Pariah nearly dropped the dagger when it finally punched through the ice into the frigid water underneath. She felt a momentary surge of victory that quickly faded when she realized they had managed to punch a hole barely big enough for her finger. They continued to dig, widening the small gap.
As they chipped away more ice from the edges of the hole, she could see a flickering glow down deep in the water. It was impossible to tell how far away it was since she had no idea how big it was. If it happened to be sword-sized, which seemed like a reasonable guess, then...well it was still impossible to tell how far it was. Far enough that only a lunatic would swim towards it.
She continued to dig.
This probably wasn't a death trap designed to punish her for her blasphemy. A bolt from the heavens would have been quicker. Besides, none of the townspeople would learn obedience if he killed her out in the wilderness.
It also probably wasn't a trap set by Auril, although drowning in a frozen lake would fit her style. The group hadn't done anything to anger her lately, even if the storm raging around her seemed divinely sent.
Maybe the sword was leading her to a sword, an actual sword of flame like something out of legend. That would be a valuable weapon in an environment like this. In that case, maybe it was going to rise up out of the water, possibly even carried by the hand of a woman of ethereal beauty. That's how the stories went, right?
Any moment now. Any time it was going to start moving through the water, ascending out of the hole they were digging to float before her like the illusionary sword had. Yup, just wait. Aaaany moment now.
The hole was finally wide enough for a crazy person to fit through, especially if they were built like a scrawny tiefling.
Pariah was exhausted from the digging, but resting was only going to make things worse as the freezing wind sucked the energy from her body. She wasn't sure how much stamina she had left. If she was going to do this, and she still wasn't sure she was, then she had to do it now.
Since it had become clear this was the plan, she had been thinking about the best way to do this to minimize the chance of dying. A rope would have been nice, as would a raging fire or the warming stone, and maybe the help of people with hands. As long as she was wishing, maybe some kind of magical insulated swimming gear.
She started by removing her sword belt and approaching Haol. He got the hint and lowered his head so she could hang it around his neck. Her gold pouch and scabbard, including her weapon and the gem that let her focus her magic, were attached to the belt. There was a dagger sheath as well, but she was going to take her knife with her just in case she needed some kind of tool down there.
She shed her cold weather clothing -- hooded fur cloak with the fur mittens she rarely wore in the pocket, snow goggles, wool scarf -- and put them in a pile. She added her fur-lined leather boots as well. Haol put a foot on the pile to keep them from blowing away, and she gave him a grateful nod.
She then piled up the pieces of her leather armor nearby. She wasn't sure she'd have the chance to put it on. It was going to be a race against time as the cold tried to kill her. If not, there was no way to easily carry it as they rode back to town. She was tempted to leave it behind, but they still had a dragon to fight.
Besides, she was sick of replacing her equipment.
Haol put his other foot down to secure her armor. Pariah was now in just the wool clothing she had gotten from Macreadus's cabin. It would be fatal to stay wet after getting out of the water, so she planned to strip and leave her clothing items here to dry herself off. After that they would be soaking wet, so useless. They'd get left behind for sure. She had another set of clothes in her pack back in Good Mead.
She frowned in thought as she looked at her sleeve. These clothes had some kind of enchantment that kept them mended and clean. She would hate to lose that, but that made her wonder about something else. She squatted down next to the hole they had dug and reached into the water. She grunted as she plunged her hand in, but she persisted and immersed her arm halfway to the elbow. She withdrew her hand and looked at the sleeve.
She smiled as the moisture evaporated from the cloth, carried away in the wind. Within moments, the sleeve was dry. That magic might just save her life tonight. It looked like she wouldn't have to go in naked after all. She hoped that the immersion wouldn't overwhelm a spell that was probably meant for nothing more than a light rain.
Feeling a little more optimistic about her chances, she stood by the edge of the hole with her knife in one hand and a gold coin in the other. "Tymora, please bring me good fortune," she said as she flipped the coin and let it fall into the water. The coin disappeared into the darkness, though it picked up the light of the sword's flame as it got deeper before fading from sight again. She had no idea if that was a good sign, a bad sign, or neither.
And then she said, "Levistus, I know what you're thinking, but the answer is no." She had no doubt he would be willing to guarantee her safety for the right price, but that was not a price she was going to pay.
She sat in the ice at the edge of the hole and lowered her sock-clad feet into the water. "Oh, gods above," she gasped as the cold hit. She took a deep breath and blew it out, and then another, and then a third but she held that last one as she pushed off the ice and into the water.
Hold your breath, hold your breath, hold your breath, she said to herself, but a gasp still escaped her and she lost half the air in her lungs. Silently cursing she surfaced, took another breath, and then forced herself back down.
Her body ached from the intense cold. The water was so black it was like her eyes were closed, but she could see a speck of orange light below. She oriented on the light from the flame and swam towards it. Down and down and down into the icy blackness she swam. She couldn't tell if she was getting closer or even if the water was moving past her numb skin at all. She pushed down the panic and continued swimming towards the light.
The sword lay half-buried in the black mud at the bottom of the lake. Fire burned from the edge of the blade that was exposed, and the water bubbled around it. The water was noticeably warmer here, which was a slight relief, but this was no time to relax.
The hilt was buried in the mud. She switched her knife to her left hand and then dug the fingers of her right in, expecting the mud to be hard and cold, but it was...well it was still cold, but not as cold as expected. Her fingers sunk into it easily, and they wrapped around the hilt. The mud held on to the sword as she tried to pull it out, but it came free without much effort, which is good because she didn't have much effort left.
She looked up as she started to swim towards the surface but saw only darkness above her. Fear swelled in her as she realized she didn't know where the hole was. But it was straight up, right?
Only which way was up?
She looked at the sword, and the fire that burned along the blade. The flame caused bubbles in the water, which rose past her face. That had to be up.
Pariah kicked with what little strength she had, holding the flaming sword above her to light the way. Her lungs were burning and her muscles were weakening, but finally the small pool of light showed a sheet of ice above her. But where was her escape? She looked around frantically but saw only ice in every direction.
No, there it was: a break only a few feet off, but those feet were like miles to her. She kicked her legs and pulled herself along the rough surface of the ice trying to reach the gap before her body reflexively gasped for more air.
Her head broke the surface and she gulped in a breath with a wheeze. She panted, drinking in as much air as she could, but she knew she wasn't out of danger yet. She weakly tossed the sword out onto the ice. She had been afraid the heat might start to melt the frozen surface, but the flame went out when it left her hand.
Pariah called up on reserves of strength as she dug the knife into the ice to give her a handhold. She pulled, one hand on the knife and the other on a ridge in the ice barely taller than her fingertip, as the wind roared across her. Haol watched her as she struggled, looking back and forth between her and the items he was protecting.
She had managed to get an elbow up on the ice so she released her grip just long enough to give him a "stop" gesture. "I got it," she said weakly, knowing he couldn't hear her over the wind, couldn't understand her language, and that she was not in fact sure she had got it.
The water steamed off her clothing as the magic evaporated it, but that just made her colder. Maybe she should have gone in naked after all. She strained and groaned inch by inch until her numb muscles finally got her body out of the hole enough to get a knee on the ice. She was exhausted, but this was the tipping point. She managed to heave the rest of herself out of the water and she fell onto the rough surface of the ice.
I'll just rest for a bit, she thought.
And then, knowing that was certain death, she sighed and climbed to her hands and knees. She grabbed the hilt of the sword and dragged it with her as she crawled across the ice towards Haol, wishing she'd stacked her belongings a little closer. The wind tore across her body. Her clothing was dry by now but she was still freezing. She couldn't feel anything. Her body had stopped shivering, and she doubted that was a good sign. Her vision was starting to fade.
Haol, still keeping a foot on her two piles of gear, lowered himself to the ice and leaned towards her. She pressed herself against him. His body was warm. She wanted to sink into his feathers, but she still had work to do.
She took a moment to look at the sword in her hand. It looked like the illusion in the shrine: a silver longsword with a grip wrapped in dark leather. Presumably magical, which was nice. It was longer and heavier than she liked, a weapon that depended on the might of your swing rather than the finesse of your technique. She preferred lighter blades.
The sword started to change. The grip shrunk. The blade grew shorter and curved, with a single sharp edge on the outside of the curve. The new weapon was narrow at the base and wider at the tip. One side of the cross-hilt retracted into a nub, and the other side extended around the back of her hand to rejoin the hilt at the pommel and form a knuckle guard.
Yeah, like that, she thought to herself.
Pariah would have liked to experiment more, but the world around her was getting dark, and she didn't think that was because of the sun or the weather.
She donned her armor with slow, clumsy movements. She had put the new sword down to dress. She looked at her old weapon as she strapped on her sword belt. Its sheath was the wrong shape and size for the scimitar. She was also reminded of the chunk of chardalyn at the base of her weapon that let her focus her magic.
She threaded the belt through the knuckle guard of the new weapon. It wasn't perfect but it would let her carry both swords back to town in the hope of finding a better sheath. She slipped on her cloak. The world was spinning now. She was dreading the ride back. She'd had enough trouble holding on when she was rested. She'd have to trust Haol to know what he was doing.
That assumed he knew the way back to town. He had a mental link with Zariel. Maybe it was directional? At the very least, the other woman would know that Pariah was safe and they were on the way back.
Pariah took one last look around. Her dagger was still stuck in the ice by the hole but she didn't have the energy to fetch it. She had lost one mitten and her goggles when the wind blew them across the ice. Her armor wasn't fully fastened, but it wouldn't fall off before they got back to town. She'd done as much as she could.
She climbed onto Haol's back and grabbed on as he carefully stood up. She wasn't sure she could stay awake for the entire trip back, but she knew that if she fell asleep she'd fall off, and if she fell off she was doomed. Haol started walking slow, increasing his speed gradually. Pariah held on as best she could while fighting the desire to pass out.
Notes:
I had originally planned for Pariah to have to leave both her clothing and armor behind, riding back just wearing her cold weather gear. Then I remembered her clothes are clothes of mending. I didn't want her to have to lose a magic item, even a common one, so I decided the magic repels water to keep the wearer dry.
Fine, but she'll still leave her armor. Oh wait, they are going to fight a dragon. OK, I guess she'll recover her armor. But she lost a dagger and a mitten, OK?
The weapon is a flame tongue scimitar. The miniquest was suggested by the Frostmaiden Companion. I just needed to think of a way to draw Tempus's attention, and I figured he would be more likely to respond to a combative nature than a sycophantic one.
Chapter 112: Shelter in the Storm
Summary:
Pariah has exhausted herself recovering a magical sword from the frozen Redwaters Lake, and now she is heading back to Good Mead through the storm that continues to rage.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
Pariah awoke to someone gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name. She was warm and comfortable, and sleep was too attractive, so she made an irritated groan and started to drift back into her dreams.
"Pariah," the voice repeated, and the shaking grew more insistent.
With a grunt of annoyance, the tiefling forced her eyes open to look up at the blonde woman leaning over her. Pariah blinked slowly and then, though the lure of sleep was strong, said thickly, "I'm awake."
She propped herself up on one elbow to see she was in the Shrine of Tempus. There were fewer people than had been here before; she hoped that meant they had gotten strong enough to move to the mead hall. She pushed herself into a sitting position, groaning against the ache and stiffness of her muscles. "How did I get here?" she asked. The last thing she remembered was clinging to Haol's back, surrounded by icy winds.
Zariel shoved a spoon and a bowl of stew into her hands. "Haol brought you back. You had fallen off so he had to drag you through the snow. Luckily you weren't far off. Eat quickly. Bjarnson says the storm is breaking so we will need to leave soon."
The wind sounded just as intense as before, but Pariah trusted Bjarnson's knowledge of local weather. She began eating mechanically. The stew was lukewarm and somewhat bland, but as her hunger awoke she wolfed it down. She finished quickly, wishing for twelve more bowls as she let out a satisfied sigh. "Thanks," she said, looking around for her companions.
She paused as her eyes flicked over the crowd. In a whisper she asked Zariel, "Why are they all staring at me?"
Every person in the shrine was sitting up by this time, all staring intently at her with disturbing smiles.
Zariel looked over her shoulder at them and then back at Pariah. "Well, you woke up their god and brought back his sword. You're kind of a hero."
Pariah snorted, feeling embarrassed. "A hero would have been here when the dragon attacked." Then, as she remembered why she had gone out into the storm, she looked around in a panic. "Where is-"
"Here," Zariel said, patting the floor by where Pariah's head had lain. "I've been keeping an eye on it. Everyone in town wanted to touch it and pass it around, but I thought it best to wait for you to wake."
On the wooden floor were her leather armor and her sword belt. An unfamiliar scabbard hung from the latter, one wide and curved to accommodate her new weapon. The leather-wrapped hilt of the sword protruded from the top. The pommel was the chardalyn sphere that had been mounted on her former sword, now wrapped in a silver cage. "Who did that?" she asked, touching the crystal. She could feel her magic flow through it.
"Dejen," Zariel said. "Well, sort of. He removed it from your old hilt and was trying to figure out how to attach it to the new one, knowing it is important to your spellcasting. But then the metal of the hilt just sort of reached out and enveloped the crystal. He is fascinated and wants to study it later. The scabbard was donated by one of the militia."
Pariah picked up the scabbard and reached out to grip the weapon's hilt. She drew the scimitar, the silver blade shining in the light. There was an audible gasp from the people in the shrine. She held it before her. It was a nice weapon, light and balanced. But how to get it to...
An intense orange flame appeared along the blade, burning only along the single sharpened outer curve of the scimitar. The watching townspeople oohed. They gazed at it with reverence, which made her self conscious.
She willed the blade to stop flaming and then sheathed it again. "We should go," she said, wanting to get away from the adoring gazes of the locals.
Pariah donned her armor quickly, pointedly avoiding the eyes of the others. Her muscles ached; she hoped they would loosen up as she moved around. She was still tired, but there was no time to rest.
Zariel waited patiently until she was done. Pariah headed for the door, but Zariel put a hand on her arm. "I think you should pay reverence to Tempus before you go."
Pariah made a sour expression towards the statue, which was the same faded and dusty idol it had been before. Its eyes stared blankly into space.
Zariel leaned in and whispered, "I am aware of your dissatisfaction with how the gods conduct themselves, but you have to admit this was directly helpful to our goal. If nothing else, have respect for these people and their faith, and for the valuable blessing you have been granted."
Pariah's frown deepened. "Maybe I should just donate the sword to the town," she whispered back. "I mean, it's their shrine."
"No, you should keep it," Zariel replied. "It was given to you. Plus Dejen, while asking about the history of the sword, suggested the same thing and the townspeople were quite insistent you should take the weapon. Now go thank the Foehammer and let us be on our way."
"Foehammer?" Pariah asked in confusion.
Zariel nodded towards the statue.
Of course he has a cute nickname, she thought sardonically. "Fine," she said without too much petulance.
Pariah walked over to stand in front of the statue. She didn't know anything about his prayers; the warlike people in Baldur's Gate followed Torm rather than him. Like most of the gods, Tempus had a little shrine in Twin Songs in the Outer City, but it didn't get a lot of attention.
Still, she knew the basic acts any of the gods liked, so she knelt down in front of him. On a whim she drew the sword, held it before her and ignited the blade.
She'd never liked praying out loud. In her mind she said, "Thank you, Lord Tempus, for your...uh...blessing and this sword. I'll...uh...wield it with courage or something like that. Uh...amen."
Maybe not the best prayer ever prayed, but she hoped it would do. She doused and sheathed the sword, and then stood up. Zariel seemed unsatisfied, but Pariah headed for the door anyhow.
They exited the shrine into the stormy night. The wind did seem a little weaker than before, though it was hard to be sure. The nightly aurora was visible even through the heavy cloud cover and it provided minimal light. The moon was just setting behind the western horizon. Zariel drew her sword and its bright glow cut through the darkness, lighting the path to the mead hall. Their sleds had been moved to the alley between the hall and the adjacent houses at some point. That sheltered them from the worst of the wind. Haol was there as well, currently unsaddled, his feathers ruffling in the wind that managed to get around the corner of the building.
Since she knew the axe beak wouldn't understand her, Pariah stopped to grab Zariel's arm. She yelled over the wind, "Thank Haol for me."
"I have," Zariel assured her. "Many times."
The axe beak was watching them calmly. Pariah aimed a grateful bow in his direction; he inclined his long neck in return.
The two woman carefully navigated the icy wooden walkway that led to the double doors at the front of the hall, and let themselves inside the warm space. The lamps were low and the place was empty other than Bjarnson and Tyrrel, the kennel master, who were harnessing the dogs to the lines, which would be hooked to the sleds once they got outside. Eberic was coming down the stairs straining under the weight of two backpacks. Dejen followed him, carrying one. Lulu was sitting on the bar looking bored, though she brightened up and waved when she saw Pariah.
"You're all right," Bjarnson said with a grin.
"Just a little achy," Pariah confirmed.
"And you got a new weapon out of it."
"I did," she said, patting the hilt.
Dejen dropped his pack at the bottom of the stairs, eliciting a glare from Eberic as it hit the back of the dwarf's heels. Dejen rushed forward and said excitedly, "May I see it? Zariel wouldn't let me look at it."
Defensively, Zariel said, "I just thought Pariah should be the one to make that decision."
"Yeah, sure," Pariah said in response to Dejen's question. She drew the blade and ignited it.
He gazed at it with a mesmerized grin. "You know, that blade has quite the history. It's called the Wrath of Tempus and it was forged by the priests of Tempus during this town's war with Dougan's Hole about a hundred years ago. The blade changed hands, wielded by warriors on both sides of the conflict. Ultimately it was deemed too dangerous so, as part of the peace agreement, the sword was cast into the lake and assumed to be lost forever."
"You mean it's cursed?" Pariah asked, mentally swearing at Tempus.
"Well...uh...no," he said uncertainly. "At least I don't think so. We could always check with the priest in Easthaven. This weapon was one of the artifacts described on the plaques in the temple."
Pariah hadn't had time to get excited about this new weapon since too much was going on, but now she was disappointed. She remembered the cursed blade Lythienne had gotten, a blade that now lay at the bottom of the River Styx. "Zariel, have you got any insight about whether or not this is cursed?"
"I don't believe that Tempus would have granted you a cursed weapon," the warrior woman said. And then she added, "But his favor can be fickle. It is common for him to bless both sides in a conflict, sometimes one and then the other, sometimes both simultaneously. At a guess, whoever kills you will inherit his weapon."
"Great," Pariah said, sheathing the sword. "Let's hope nobody realizes that."
She looked at Tyrrel, who had been listening to the conversation. He put up both hands in a surrendering gesture and said, "I won't tell anyone."
She hadn't been trying to communicate that message to him. She had looked just to see how it was coming with the dogs. Still, she hoped the rumor of "kill this tiefling to get a magic sword" wouldn't spread.
"What time is it anyhow?" she asked Dejen. The aurora's presence meant it was somewhere between midnight and six am.
Dejen pulled his timepiece out of a pocket, peered at it and said, "Just past four."
Eberic had headed back upstairs and was coming down with the remaining two packs. He was being followed by Galena, the short human woman who was overseeing the kitchen now that Reirak was gone. As Eberic carried the backpacks to the door, she approached Bjarnson.
"You're leaving," she said.
"We are. We are going to chase after the dragon and try to kill it."
"I see," she replied. She glanced at the sword on Pariah's hip. "I suppose if you have Tempus's blessing, you have a good chance of victory."
Zariel said, "The Morninglord watches over us as well. We are certain to defeat this monster."
Pariah avoided making a skeptical grunt.
Galena was carrying a weathered pouch of leather colored a dark wine red. She pressed it into Bjarnson's hand and said, "This was Reirak's. He'd want you to have it."
Bjarnson asked in awe, "Is this his spice pouch?"
"Yes," she said.
He stared at it silently, his eyes wide, and then said very sincerely, "Thank you."
Galena turned to the rest of them. "Can I get you anything before you go?"
Pariah looked at the others and said, "No, I think we are fine."
"All right. Still food upstairs if you want to eat before getting on the road." With that she headed back towards the stairs.
Bjarnson was still staring in wonder at the pouch. It seemed like a strong reaction, but clearly this man had been his friend. She wasn't sure why the pouch was so special to him.
She took a last look around as Bjarnson carefully stowed the pouch in an inside pocket. Something else was different about this place, and she'd been trying to figure out what it was. Yes it was empty, since everyone was probably upstairs sleeping. Yes it was darker since only one of the lamps was burning. But there was something else, a sense of calm even as the storm raged outside.
And then she remembered the deep sorrow that had hung over the place last time, emotions that they had theorized came from the eladrin who had overseen the now-destroyed greenhouse. That aura of grief was gone.
"How is Thiala?" she asked, fearing the answer.
She was relieved when Bjarnson smiled warmly. "Better," he said. He nodded towards the door to the hives. "She's still among the bees, but she's transitioned to her autumn mode. Well, maybe with a hint of winter. But she's calmer, more peaceful."
"I'm glad," Pariah said. She had met the woman only briefly, but after even that short encounter, Pariah had liked her.
"Zariel," Eberic said, "come outside and we'll pull the sleds out in front."
As the two of them headed back out into the blowing wind, Pariah said, "Is the storm really breaking?"
"It is," Bjarnson said. "The wind is slowing and not as cold. We should be able to travel soon."
Conditions outside seemed the same to her, but again, she wasn't going to doubt the local expert on the climate.
Pariah knelt down to help him with the dogs. "I've been meaning to ask you. Those creatures you summoned in the duergar fortress. New magic?"
"Something I was playing with," he said. "I was inspired by Haol and the idea that a celestial spirit could take animal form. The power of nature I draw from is touched by the fey, so I wondered if I could do something similar with a fey spirit. I had been considering the idea, but that was the first time I tried it." He chuckled. "Honestly, I didn't think it would work."
"I'm glad it did," she replied. Then she cautiously added, "I'm sure you know this, but fey spirits can be...tricky, even when they are on your side."
"Oh, they aren't so bad. They can be wild, but so can the beasts of the land. It's a matter of knowing the safe ones from the dangerous ones, how to communicate with them, recognizing their body language and so on."
"I guess that makes sense," she said.
Eberic and Zariel came back in to start fetching the packs, and Dejen helped them. By the time they were done, Pariah and Bjarnson were leading two strings of dogs towards the door. Lulu came over to nestle in Pariah's fur cloak. "I'm glad you're OK," the asteri whispered.
"Me too," Pariah whispered back.
Bjarnson waved to Tyrrel and said, "I'll come back through when I can. I hope you can get the kennel rebuilt soon."
"So do I," he sighed. "Safe trip." And then he grinned sardonically. "Well, as safe as you can be when fighting a dragon."
They headed out into the blustery night. As the others tied down their possessions, Bjarnson and Pariah hooked the lines to the sleds. By the time they were ready, and Zariel had saddled Haol, the wind was noticeably weaker. It was still blowing hard, but it wasn't the screaming blizzard it had been before.
Pariah mounted the sled behind Bjarnson and started the sled moving, leading the way into the snowy darkness. Lulu had lit up the front of the sled so they could see the land ahead. The trail markers were barely visible but they gave something to navigate by as Bjarnson brought the dogs up to their top speed.
How many hours had it been? Pariah wondered to herself. There had been a schedule on the map in the fortress. Dejen had written it down; she wished she'd asked him. She remembered fifty-something hours total but didn't remember any of the other numbers. If it was a bit after four now, that meant it had been just over twelve hours since the dragon had launched its attack. Where would that place it?
She leaned forward and asked Bjarnson, "Do we have a plan, or are we just chasing it around the loop?"
"The plan is chasing it. Dejen did some math and says we'll catch up in Easthaven. We're hoping Avarice warned them so they aren't completely unprepared. Then we just do the best we can to bring it down."
Pariah looked at the blustering sky. "Do you think the wind will die down much more than this? Because bows are going to be useless in this wind."
"I know," he said. "And I hope so. Easthaven has some bigger weapons they use against the occasional orc or yeti attacks, but nothing designed to take down something that size. Galena said that Thiala had damaged its wing and it was having trouble flying. That might help."
Would that slow it down? Would that make it easier to fight? She thought about the sword and realized it would be worthless if the dragon just flew over the town breathing devastating energy down on them. She wondered if she could summon her wings like she had been able to in Avernus, though she didn't like the idea of getting into melee with such a massive creature. She had avoided closing with the frost giants during their attack on Caer-Dineval for the same reason.
There were just too many things they didn't know. The important thing was that they were going to try. None of them were hesitating. They'd just have to figure something out. All she could do now was wait.
She sat down on the packs, trying to get what rest she could. To pass the time, she told Lulu telepathically the whole story about what had happened out on the ice. She was surprised to learn that Zariel had not been watching her the whole time. Haol had been out of range of their mental link, so the others had had no idea whether she was all right until he got near town again.
She asked Lulu how the group was reacting since discovering Zariel's secret, but there wasn't anything to say so far. Zariel had spent her time in the shrine, praying and watching over Pariah. Bjarnson had been there as well, but had been focused on the injured. The others had rested in the mead hall. Still, that was obviously a subject that was going to resurface once this crisis was over.
Pariah wrapped herself in her cloak and wondered where her coffee bottle was. It was probably in her pack but she was too tired to root around and find it. She had considered leaving it behind in Good Mead, not that it would have done them much good, but they had left before she'd revisited the idea. She closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep, but the ride was too rough and she was too worried about what the next few hours would bring.
"Hey!" Bjarnson called over his shoulder. She felt the sled slow down.
She grabbed the railing at the side of the sled to pull herself to her feet. "What is it?" she asked.
"We're at Dougan's Hole," he said.
The aurora over their heads cast shifting lights over the small cluster of buildings gathered around a large building at the head of a pair of piers. A sign at the edge of town warned them "KEEP OUT".
Dougan's Hole had been grim and lonely before, but now it showed signs of the dragon attack. Scorched lines cut through building roofs, while other structures had just been smashed. The largest building, probably a warehouse, had partially collapsed. The piers and boats that had already been damaged by two years of ice had been chopped up by the dragon's breath.
Bjarnson had come to a full stop. Eberic and Zariel came up beside him. They watched the town silently for a time, looking for any sign of life.
"We should stop," said Zariel, though her voice was uncertain. "See if they need any help."
Bjarnson scowled towards the town. "No," he said. "We should move on."
Pariah was annoyed. "Just because they are standoffish to the rest of Ten-Towns?" she asked.
He turned to her in surprise. "Of course not," he said. "But most of my healing herbs and Zariel's magic have been spent. Even our blankets and extra rations have been left behind. We can't offer them anything more than kind words. We are rested now, so what we can do is destroy that thing the duergar built now that the storm is ending. That's going to save more lives than spending an hour here." He looked back at the town to say, "If there is anyone left here at all."
"Oh," Pariah said, embarrassed at misjudging his motives. She thought about it and admitted, "You're right. But we should check in on them if we come back this way."
Bjarnson said nothing, just started the team moving again. As the aurora faded, leaving nothing but an overcast sky behind, the dogs sprinted across the snow towards the Eastway, which would take them to Easthaven.
Notes:
The pouch is Heward's Handy Spice Pouch.
The group gains level 6. That's helpful since, with my "sort of Gritty Realism" resting rules, they'll need the HP and spell slots for the upcoming battle. Nobody gained anything spectacular.
- Pariah Level 6 -- +5 ft. movement, full speed swimming and climbing, Favored Foe does more damage.
- Zariel Level 6 -- Aura of Protection (allies get boost to saving throws).
- Dejen Level 6 -- Expertise in all his tools.
- Bjarnson Level 6 -- Land's Stride (faster movement and advantage on environmental saves in his attuned environment), plus another 3rd-level spell slot.
- Eberic Level 6 -- Expertise in Athletics and Acrobatics.
Chapter 113: Cold Pursuit
Summary:
The chardalyn dragon has already devastated two towns. The party races to try to stop the same thing from happening at Easthaven.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
The light of the aurora faded shortly after they reached the Eastway and turned towards Easthaven. The wind was at their backs, blowing snow into the darkness ahead of them. The dog raced at full speed through the early morning. The wide road was flat and clear, leaving no chance of getting lost on their way to their destination.
They saw no other traffic. That wasn't that strange for this hour of the morning, but Pariah had expected to meet a string of refugees heading towards Bryn Shander. Seeing nobody gave her hope that the attack hadn't started yet. Maybe the dragon had given up, headed back to Sunblight after encountering the blizzard. She didn't actually believe that, but could do nothing other than get lost in her thoughts as the miles passed.
Bjarnson slowed and called out, "We're here," over his shoulder. They could see the first buildings through the blowing snow ahead. A weathered sign by the side of the road read, "Easthaven". Below that was written, "What Icewind Dale was, and can be again!" and in still smaller letters, "Watch your pouch."
Across from the sign was the spot where soldiers usually stood to greet travelers. Currently there was a ballista that looked like a massive crossbow large enough to fire javelins. A scorched line had split the weapon in two halves that lay in the snow. There were no soldiers' bodies next to it.
Pariah glanced down at her longbow. The wind had slowed, but was still blowing fast. It would be hard to hit anything. She wasn't sure how they were going to attack it if they couldn't use arrows. Her magic didn't have the distance of a longbow.
She put a hand on the hilt of her sword and closed her eyes. With as much deference as she could muster, she thought, "Tempus, please help us in the upcoming battle."
They passed the sign and saw that many of the buildings beyond had been destroyed, some cut to pieces by the scorched lines and other smashed to rubble. Pariah smelled smoke but saw no fires. From what they'd seen in Good Mead, the dragon's breath burned but didn't ignite so maybe she was smelling the smoke of people trying to keep warm in the winter's night. The road was lined with oil-burning lamps on tall poles. Some had been knocked over or extinguished, but others dotted their path with pools of illumination.
There was no sound but the wind: no clash of arms, no beastly roars, no smashing buildings. There were no flashes of light in the sky from the dragon breathing energy on the town below. Were they too late? Was the battle already over?
They started to see bodies among the wreckage. It was hard to distinguish details of the fur-clad bodies. Some were clearly adults. Others were smaller, and she doubted there were that many halflings and gnomes in town. A few spears and crossbows lay in the snow, but there were also scattered belongings: clothes, dishes, food -- the kinds of things people might take when fleeing their homes.
Bjarnson turned the sled to the right, heading between the damaged buildings.
"Where are you going?" Pariah asked.
"Rurden's Armory," he said.
That was on the edge of town. It was built like a fortress, and had stacks of weapons and armor -- the kind of place to make a stand.
They found their destination only a few houses away. It looked like some of the townspeople had tried to defend the place. The building was damaged but had survived the onslaught, but the same couldn't be said for the half-dozen people lying in the snow. Pariah couldn't tell if any were Rurden or Ala, the priest of Gond.
They stopped to survey the damage around them wordlessly. There was still no movement, no sound. Pariah had expected the battle to be ongoing, but there was nothing but destruction and bodies.
"Let's try the kennel," Bjarnson said.
"It's not going to be in any better shape that this place," Eberic replied. Pariah thought that was harsh, but she also knew the kennel was nearby. He was likely right.
The dwarf continued, "We should find the dragon. It must still be here somewhere. Find it and kill it."
"We should find Lieutenant Arlaggath," Zariel said. "Ask her about the tactical situation, and where we can be the most help. She is likely coordinating the battle." Then, with a frown, she added, "But the barracks is on the far side of town."
Dejen suggested, "Why don't we get back on the main road. It will take forever to snake through these smaller paths. Go into town and hope we can find someone who knows what's going on."
Nobody disagreed, so they turned to travel back along the path they had come on until they were on the main road through town.
Sheltered by the buildings as they were, the wind was less intrusive though it still roared over their heads. They headed down the main road seeing no people, no smoke from the chimneys. Nearly all of the buildings showed damage, and about one in three were total wrecks.
"There's someone," Bjarnson called over his shoulder.
A fur-clad figure wielding a spear was standing at the first major crossroads. He was staring at the sky to their left, which would be south, but he jerked to attention when he realized the sleds were approaching. "Keep going," he yelled, waving in the direction they were already going. "There are shelters in the Temple of Tempus and the Mithral Pot." His voice was slurred, though it wasn't clear if it was drunkenness or a speech impediment.
Bjarnson brought his sled to a stop. "Where is Captain Arlaggath?" he asked. "We're here to help."
"Help?" the man said incredulously. "There's nothing you can do. We're just waiting for the next attack, hoping it gets bored and leaves. But if you have a death wish, you'll find her in the Town Hall."
Bjarnson shook the reins and the dogs started moving again. He turned to the left towards the lake. Pariah was curious if the White Lady Inn had survived the attack, but Bjarnson turned on another road before the one that ran along the shore.
The destruction ended a couple hundred feet further along, so that gave her hope that the dragon hadn't gotten this far. They continued until the road ended in the plaza where they had seen two bodies burned: Dzaan live at the stake, and Kaltro dead on a pyre.
There was another ballista in the plaza, and this one was not destroyed. It was aimed south, though there was nothing to shoot at. A burly human guard stood next to it, using it to shelter him from the wind. His hood was down, showing cheeks burned red from the cold. He ignored the newcomers as his eyes scanned the sky.
At the south end of the plaza was a three-story building of wood daubed with clay and straw. A flag on the top of the pitched roof whipped in the wind, displaying the tower and snowflake emblem of the town in white against a brown and blue background. The sign above the double door identified this as the town hall. A very short soldier, maybe a halfling, bundled in furs stood by the door.
They stopped in front of the hall and dismounted. Pariah took a moment to stretch while the others stamped the ground and rubbed their arms, trying to ward off the cold. Bjarnson knelt down to check the dogs. Pariah glanced over at Haol, who was standing staunchly in the wind, and asked Zariel, "How's he doing?"
"Admirably," Zariel said, her teeth chattering slightly. "The form he has taken is unaffected by this climate, and he has the stamina equal to or greater than the sled dogs. He is a fine mount."
Lulu, nestled in Pariah's cloak, made a tiny "hmph" sound that Zariel wouldn't have been able to hear.
However, Pariah was distracted by the fact Zariel was obviously feeling the cold. Glancing at the others, it was clear even to her that Eberic and Dejen were as well. She was fine and Bjarnson seemed all right as well. She bent down to fish her coffee bottle out of her pack. It was wrapped in a web of leather, with a length of cord that had a small loop on the end. She looked at the addition, puzzled. She had meant to do that but never got around to it.
She pushed aside her confusion and handed the bottle to Zariel. "Warm up. Share this with Eberic and Dejen."
"Thank you," Zariel replied with a grateful smile.
Not surprisingly, Bjarnson said, "You all go ahead. I'm going to check on the dogs." Pariah had come to realize that it wasn't that he disliked people, he just liked animals better.
She wasn't sure the whole group needed to meet with the captain, but the other three definitely needed to get out of the wind so they all headed towards the entrance.
The guard said, "There are shelters in the Temple of Tempus," as he pointed east. Pariah realized he was actually a gnome rather than a halfling, with angular features and dirty black hair hanging down from under his hood.
Zariel said, "We are here to see Captain Arlaggath. We wish to help in the battle against the dragon."
He gave her a puzzled look and then his expression changed. He looked over the group. "You're the ones who killed that thing in the cave up north."
"We are," she confirmed.
"And brought the cauldron."
"Yes, that too."
He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you for that. Both of those have made a real difference for the town." Then his smile faded. "The captain's inside, but I don't know what kind of condition she's in. Some duergar assassin attacked her right after the dragon came. Knifed her in the gut. She killed him, but she's in bad shape."
"We have healing," Zariel said.
"Appreciated, but she's already gotten a healing draught. It's the only reason she's still alive." He shook his head. "But some stuff can't be healed so easy."
"Perhaps we can still be of help." She turned. "Bjarnson?" she began.
He had looked up from the dogs to listen. "I heard. I'll be in after a bit to take a look at her."
"Thank you," the guard called out to him. And then he sighed, "At least she did better than the speaker."
"The speaker?" Zariel asked in alarm.
"Another assassin," he said. "The speaker wasn't so lucky. Dead before he hit the floor, they say."
"I see," she said. "Well, then we must get inside quickly."
She opened the door and then stopped. "Was the speaker warned of the dragon attack?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, "but the captain suddenly woke up the whole militia and had us set up the ballistae," he nodded towards the siege engine in the plaza. "Handed out the magic arrows to our sharpshooters. Said there was an attack coming, but didn't say what it was."
"I see," Zariel said again. "Thank you."
As the others headed inside, Pariah paused to ask the soldier, "Did it help? The warning?"
He shrugged. "Hard to say. Lot of people dead. I hear the ballista bolts don't even scratch it. And, well," he scanned the dark sky, "it's still here. Somewhere."
Pariah wasn't sure what she had expected. It had seemed so important to warn the towns, and she had to believe that it gave them some kind of chance, but what could town militia hope to do against a magical construct?
However, she was confused by his last comment. "Somewhere?" she asked.
"It's hard to figure out where it is. It does hit and run attacks. Sometimes it lands to devastate an entire neighborhood or slaughter a crowd of people. Other times it flies overhead sending some burning beam of light from its mouth. Eventually it disappears into the darkness and we wait for the next attack." He snorted, "I wish it would just get it over with."
Pariah had more questions, but the wind was blowing through the open door. She hurried inside so Zariel could shut out the cold.
There were a couple of dozen people lined up in front of the reception desk. Rather than the woman they had seen before, a human man in his forties stood behind the counter. Pariah remembered having seen him in Arlaggath's office. He was saying with exhausted patience, "...in the building that used to be the Mithral Pot. If you'll take your family-"
"That's no defense against this thing," retorted the dark-haired human woman at the head of the line. She was wearing patchwork armor that showed spots of rust along the edges of the metal.
"It's as protected as we can make it," he said. "There is another shelter at the Temple of Tempus, but they are full. The alternative would be to try for Bryn Shander, but we don't know if that's safe."
Zariel stepped up to the front of the line. "It's not," she said. "We just came down the Eastway and saw nobody on the road. However there were many bodies at the entrance to town. It's possible the dragon is laying in wait, preying on those who flee."
"Then there is no hope," the woman said in despair.
"The hope is to defeat this creature," Zariel told her. "And that is what we are here to do." To the man behind the desk he said, "We wish to see Captain Arlaggath and offer our services."
He started to say something and then an expression of recognition swept across his face. He looked over the group and said, "She's in the speaker's office." He pointed to a door to the side, next to one of the stairways to the second floor.
A man's voice from the crowd said, "Wait a minute, I want to see the captain, too." Other voices started chiming in.
"The captain is busy seeing to the defense of this town!" the man behind the desk called out over the babble. "She is not taking visitors." In a lower voice he said to Zariel, "You can go in." To the woman at the front of the line he said, "I'm sorry, but the shelter at the Mithral Pot is the best I can offer. If you don't want that, you can try sheltering in your home, heading into the forest, or heading out across the ice. Next!"
As the adventurers started towards the speaker's office, Pariah said, "There's one more of us. Big guy with a red beard. He's tending to the dogs right now, but can you send him in when he gets here?"
The man nodded and then turned to the next petitioner, who asked who was going to pay for the damage to his boat.
There was another soldier standing at the door to the office, but he opened the door and waved them through.
They found Captain Arlaggath leaning over a map spread out over the large table that dominated half the room. The half-elven woman had a hand pressed over her stomach just under her ribs, and she was leaning heavily on her other elbow. Her black hair hung loosely around her face. Her skin was pale, paler than it had been before. The smell of coffee came from the steaming mug next to her.
The map was littered with objects: buttons, coins, dice, crumpled wads of paper, and a small bear carved out of wood. Arlaggath looked up from her study of this strange collection of objects. "What is it?" she asked in an exhausted voice, and then she paused. "Oh. I remember you." She sat down heavily in one of the high-backed chairs. "What can I do for you?" She picked up her coffee and took a sip. Her hand was shaking.
"It's more what we can do for you," Zariel said. "We have come to help fight the dragon."
"Oh? Well, the help is appreciated." She put down the mug and asked, "And how did you find out about it?" Then her eyes widened. "Wait, was it one of you who sent that message?"
"Not exactly, though we had hoped the warning would come through." Zariel gave her a brief overview of their trip to Sunblight, the release of the dragon, and their request to Avarice to warn the towns about it. Bjarnson joined them during the explanation, stopping her story only long enough to ask Arlaggath if he could examine her wound. She lifted her short tunic to expose her abdomen, and Bjarnson peeled back the bandage. The stab wound looked partially mended, the result of the healing potion the guard had told them about.
The captain listened to the tale carefully, nodding occasionally. "Galbek said he heard some woman's voice in his head, warning that a dragon was coming in. We didn't know if it was true or not, but I mobilized the militia just in case. Nothing happened right away and we wondered if it was a false alarm or if the attack was just delayed by the storm." She snorted. "I guess it was the storm after all."
Bjarnson had been kneeling on the floor to examine her wound. He settled back on his heels and the captain asked, "So, am I going to live?"
"There's the start of an infection. Keep it clean. Change the bandage often. Is there an apothecary in town?"
Arlaggath nodded. "Yes, and she's already given me a poultice, I just haven't had time to put it on." Bjarnson opened his mouth, and she said impatiently, "I know. It's important. I'll do it later."
Bjarnson looked unsatisfied but he climbed to his feet as the captain lowered her tunic
Zariel said, "How has the battle gone so far?"
The captain sighed and looked over the map littered with tokens. "Not well. At first it was just crisscrossing the town north to south, slowly progressing east. That made it predictable. We have a few ballistae since we've occasionally had attacks by small white dragons before, but they didn't seem to hurt it and it destroyed most of them immediately. We hit it with a couple of magic arrows, wasted a bunch more in this wind. And then it changed tactics. It flies in, devastates part of the city, then goes somewhere else. Sometimes it flies off into the storm and gives us a break, but not for long." She shook her head. "I don't know much about dragons, but I thought black dragons spewed acid. This thing cuts through buildings and people with a beam of light."
"It is not a natural dragon," Zariel explained. "It is a magical construct built out of black chardalyn."
"And you say the duergar are behind it," the captain said, rubbing her abdomen. "Are there troops coming?"
"No," Zariel assured her. "We do bring a little good news. We managed to drive the duergar forces back into the Underdark. I don't think they will be troubling you again."
"That's something, I guess," she sighed. "I wish they'd taken their dragon with them." She winced. "And their assassins."
"We heard the dragon was injured. Is that true?"
Arlaggath looked puzzled. "That might explain it," she said thoughtfully. "Dragons usually fly over cities raining death from above. It makes them hard to fight. This one makes short flights but mostly seems to destroy from the ground. We've tried attacking it when it does, but..." She shook her head. "What injured it?"
"There is an eladrin in Good Mead who oversees the greenhouse," Zariel said.
"Thiala, sure."
"She was able to injure its wing."
The captain looked at her wide-eyed. "Then we weren't the first hit? I just assumed it had headed straight for us."
"I'm afraid not," Zariel said sympathetically. "It has attacked Good Mead and one other town." She gave Bjarnson an inquisitive look.
"Dougan's Hole," he said.
"Gods above," Arlaggath sighed as she closed her eyes.
"But its injury will give us an advantage," Zariel declared with confidence. "And we have another advantage: Tempus has given our friend here his blessing."
She motioned to Pariah, who felt suddenly self conscious.
"Has he?" Arlaggath said, half in wonder, half in disbelief.
"Yes," Zariel said. "She received a visitation at his shrine, a sign that led her out onto the ice of the lake to find his sword in its depths." To Pariah, she said, "Show her."
Embarrassed, Pariah drew the saber and willed the flame along its edge to life.
"Huh," the captain said, a surprisingly muted reaction to an apparently divine intervention. "That's something, I guess."
Pariah sheathed the weapon as Eberic interjected, "It looks like you made a stand at Rurden's"
"We did," she said with a gloomy nod, "for all the good it did."
"And how fares Rurden?" Zariel asked tentatively.
"Survived. Right now he's at the Temple of Tempus, probably arguing with Rohl. Ala's there too."
Pariah remembered that Rohl and Ala were the priests of Tempus and Gond respectively.
Zariel asked, "Is that where you plan to defend?"
"One of the places," the captain said. She pointed to the map. "We have shelters at the temple in the north and Banrock's old tavern in the south. We have a ballista and militia at each. There are other squads here, here, and here. Archers in the few high spots in town. A reserve here that can respond to any attack."
Pariah looked over the map as she talked and realized all the knick-knacks represented troops and other defenses. She started to see the pattern. "What's the bear?" she asked.
"That's the dragon," Arlaggath said as she tapped the small wooden figurine. "I'll place it when I know where the next attack is."
Zariel asked, "And where do you want us?"
The captain took a sip of her coffee as she studied the group over the rim of the mug. "You're willing to help?"
"That's why we are here," Zariel assured her. "We already fought this construct in the forge where it was created. We hurt it, though it escaped to begin the attack. We have followed it here and will continue to do so until it is destroyed."
Arlaggath frowned. "Why?" she asked.
Zariel was surprised by the question. "Why not?" she replied.
Arlaggath laughed. "Well, I guess that's a good an answer as any. Fine, we'll take any help we can." She leaned over the map. "You should probably join the reserve-"
She was interrupted as the door slammed open. It was the man from the reception desk. "Captain, it's attacking the market square!"
Arlaggath said to Zariel, "That's east along the waterfront."
"I remember," she said. "We're on our way."
As they rushed out of the office into the reception area, they heard Arlaggath giving orders to move the reserve to intercept and aim the ballista to the east.
Notes:
Some of the NPCs we've met are going to die, and I'm trying to figure out which ones. I'm using the casualty percentages from the module to get a feel for how many of them should be lost, but I'm not going to pull an Infinity War where "half" somehow means "80% of the named characters".
Chapter 114: The Battle of Easthaven
Summary:
The chardalyn dragon is attacking Easthaven, and the adventurers move to engage this powerful opponent.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
They rushed out the main doors into the dark, windy morning. Haol and the dog teams were still there, waiting for them. Zariel put a foot in Haol's stirrup, but Bjarnson put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Had you planned to ride him into battle?"
"Yes," Zariel said uncertainly.
"I was hoping he'd watch over the dogs. We can't take them into the fight. They're well trained, but they aren't war beasts. I've told them to follow him. He could lead them away from danger."
Zariel looked over at Haol and then at the dogs. With just a hint of disappointment in her voice, she said, "That makes sense. Very well." She removed her foot from the stirrup and instructed him in Enochian. He inclined his head slightly towards her in acknowledgment.
Pariah looked east towards the market. She could see flashes of light through the blowing snow, like bolts of lightning, but she couldn't see anything more than that against the overcast night sky. She grabbed her bow, quiver and shield while the others got what they needed from the sleds.
The man who had been talking to Captain Arlaggath had come out, trying to throw on a fur cloak over his armor as the wind blew around him. He was followed by around ten other militia members. All of them carried crossbows. One of the soldiers ran to the ballista, shouted something at the operator while pointing at the eastern sky, and the two of them turned the siege engine to face that direction.
The other soldiers jogged into the streets. Pariah had planned to go out to the lakeside road and follow it to the market, but figured she'd trust the locals. "Come on," she said to the others as she pointed to the soldiers. "They must know where they are going."
The militia led them through narrow, winding streets and it wasn't long before they could see a dark shape looming in the sky over a building ahead. A spear of light came down and smashed through a house. The dragon landed heavily in the plaza, out of sight behind the buildings. Debris flew as it smashed structures with its claws.
"Get under cover," the commander shouted to his men. "Fire and move. Don't stay in one place."
The soldiers scattered to the buildings surrounding the market plaza. The commander looked up in surprise when the others ran up to him. Zariel asked, "Where do you want us?"
He looked them over for a moment before making a vague gesture towards the buildings. "You know your capabilities; I don't. Pick your spot. I recommend you stay on the move. And don't expect these walls to protect you. That breath weapon punches through stone like it was paper."
The dragon took flight again. "I wish we had a plan," Eberic said.
"No time," Zariel replied. "Stay close to me. Lathander's blessing will protect you. Other than that, fight bravely!"
She touched her shield and it started to glow brightly, and then she drew her weapon which also lit up. She was a beacon in the dark storm, though it wasn't clear if this was to inspire the troops or to draw the dragon's attention. Zariel shouted, "For the glory of Lathander!" and charged into an alley between buildings that led to the plaza.
Pariah gave a vague "good luck" shrug to the others and headed into a different alley. The dragon's breath weapon seemed to be narrow and long, so it would be best not to stand in a line. It had taken to the air again, and as it passed overhead she threw a beam of icy energy up at it. The beam reflected off the dragon's crystalline skin, not leaving even a patch of frost behind. She wasn't sure it had done any damage at all.
The dragon glided low, tearing the roof off a house as it passed before circling back towards the plaza. She could see its right wing was crooked, presumably damage done by Thiala. However, the bent wing was still enough to hold it aloft.
Scattered crossbow bolts came from the buildings, most of them lost in the wind. The few that struck seemed to do nothing, which didn't surprise her. Frankly, she thought the militia should withdraw.
Another bolt shot out but this one burst into purple sparkles that coated the dragon in a glowing sheen; Pariah knew that had been Dejen. It was now a bright spot in the sky that could probably be seen for a mile. The dragon's head snapped around, seeking the source of the bolt. It spotted Zariel who was standing in the middle of the plaza, not seeking cover at all. She shouted something at it that was lost in the wind.
Lines of yellow energy snaked across the dragon's crystalline skin, up its neck, converging on its mouth. A ball of energy formed between its teeth and then a blinding beam of light streaked towards the ground. Zariel had set her feet, raised her shield in front of her face, and braced herself. The energy met her shield and split to go around it, leaving scorched lines in the cobblestones behind her.
A massive spear came out of the darkness, a shot fired by the ballista hundreds of feet away. It hit the dragon's damaged wing and the wing buckled. The dragon tried to maintain its flight but managed nothing more than a controlled crash that crushed two more buildings and shook the ground.
The dragon seemed momentarily dazed by the crash. Zariel charged forward, her sword raised high. Pariah cursed her recklessness, though she knew she had a few equally idiotic charges in her own past. She dropped her bow and quiver, drew her saber and said, "You better work," to it as flame burst from its edge. She ran forward to join Zariel.
The dragon rose from the rubble, standing to its full size. Zariel was dwarfed by the black crystal construct, but she didn't hesitate as she slashed at one of its legs. Her sword burned with bright light but even her holy blade had trouble scarring the chardalyn.
Pariah's footsteps faltered as she was intimidated by the massive beast in front of her. Its shoulders rose above the peaked roofs around them, and its long neck brought its head even higher. She wouldn't have been able to touch both its front legs at the same time with outstretched arms. Its wings, even folded, dwarfed the market stalls around it. She'd fought fierce battles against strong opponents, but even the pit fiends, Shummrath and Bel, or the frost giants at Caer-Dineval hadn't been anywhere near as large as the dragon.
She wasn't sure where the others were, but the bolts and balls of flame that peppered the beast meant that Dejen and Bjarnson respectively were doing what they could. Quarrels from militia crossbows continued to be taken by the wind except for a few that skittered off its impenetrable shell. She wasn't sure where Eberic was, though she might have seen a dwarf-sized shadow in the darkness behind the beast.
She wasn't going to be the one to stay out of this. Hoping for either Tymora's good fortune or Tempus's crazy bravery, she resumed her charge.
She reflexively directed intense cold into the blade like she had with her old weapon. Briefly she wondered if that had been a mistake, if the cold would extinguish the flame as the energies conflicted, but instead it made the flame burn hot and blue. She moved towards the damaged wing and brought her blade down. The edge of her weapon cut across the edge of the wing, and the crystal melted and dripped away from the deep slash she left.
The dragon opened its mouth to unleash a furious roar at her as a glow built up in its throat. Pariah was so focused on the light that she didn't see the wing sweep forward to slam against her side. The blow caused her to stumble a few steps and she struggled to keep her balance on the icy stone of the marketplace. The dragon reared up to bring its claws down towards her.
Zariel threw herself in front of Pariah, her shield catching one massive claw that descended with a force that drove her to her knees. She was twisted to the side to bring her shield up, and the dragon's other claw raked across her back tearing metal splints from her armor.
"Hey!" a man's voice yelled as the militia commander ran out to hack at the dragon's side with his longsword. "Over here you big pile of rock!" However his weapon bounced off the black chardalyn and the dragon didn't even seem to notice him.
Pariah wanted to hit the wing again, wondering if she could cripple it, but the bulk of the dragon's body was in the way now. She cut a furrow across the beast's chest. Her sword again sunk into the hard crystal like it was soft flesh and she left a deep wound -- well, a deep wound if it had been human-sized; an annoying scratch in a creature larger than a house.
However, the injury drew the dragon's attention, and it opened its mouth to expose the glow in its throat again. Bjarnson came out from cover to drag away Zariel, who was still on her knees, hunched over. Pariah couldn't spare the attention to see if she was all right. Instead, she slashed across the lines of radiance that snaked across the beast's body to merge into the ball of light in its mouth. Energy sparked out of the wound, coruscating across its crystal skin, and the glow died for a moment.
The dragon reared up again and Pariah prepared to dodge its claws, but it spread its wings and brought them down to generate a powerful breeze as it took to the sky. She was knocked back a step by the force of the air and her next swing missed. She fired another icy beam, but again it did nothing as it reflected off the crystal.
And then the dragon spoke.
She hadn't expected that. It wasn't a creature; it was a thing. But it spoke, its deep voice bellowing across the plaza with a force Pariah could feel against her skin. She couldn't understand its words, though its tone was defiant. And then it flew off to the north over the frozen waters of Lac Dinneshere, still glowing purple from Dejen's spell. A few crossbow bolts and flames and a lone ballista shot followed it, but they all missed as the glowing spot dwindled in the distance.
Everyone came out from cover to gather in the plaza and watch the dragon disappear as the light winked out.
"Does anyone know what it said?" Pariah asked.
Eberic replied, "It said that we can't defeat it. We can't be everywhere. It will raid town after town until all the upworlders are dead."
Zariel was standing unsteadily, holding onto Bjarnson's shoulder. Her sword was sheathed though her shield still glowed brightly. She asked, "Do you think it's headed to its next target, Caer-Dineval?"
Eberic shrugged.
"If so," Pariah said, "then the wizard in the next town is going to give it a surprise."
Zariel scowled. "I would rather not trust that fiend to defend the people. We should go after it. I've already told Haol to bring the dogs here."
The militia commander asked, "Then you don't think it will be back?"
"I do not," Zariel replied. "This town has shown it has the valor and strength to defend itself. It is looking for easy targets, and Easthaven is not one."
He gave her a grateful smile and said, "That was more you than us. You did more to help this town in half a minute than we have done in a couple of hours. We owe you a great debt." And then he added, "Again."
"I wish we could stay," Zariel said as Haol came into view, followed by the two dog teams pulling the sleds. "We will come back after this thing is defeated and help where we can." Lulu flew down and crawled into Pariah's cloak.
Pariah looked at the flaming sword she still held in her hand. "At least this thing proved to be worth the effort," she admitted grudgingly. She looked up at the sky and tried to keep her voice respectful as she said, "Thanks, Tempus." She extinguished and sheathed the weapon.
"We must hurry," Zariel said to the group as she put a foot in Haol's stirrup.
As the others mounted the sleds, Pariah went to put a hand on Zariel's shoulder, stopping her from mounting right away. She ran an eye down the woman's back, seeing the blood that stained her armor. She couldn't see any obvious damage from the dragon's breath, but a beam of light that could cut through stone probably didn't do flesh any good.
In response to Pariah's examination, Zariel said, "I'm all right."
"You're not," Pariah replied. The other woman's expression was pale and haggard. Her breathing was fast and there was a hint of a wheeze to it. Lulu was watching her with concern.
"I have already used the last of my healing magic on myself," Zariel assured her. "I will not fall."
Pariah pursed her lips. "Look, I hate to throw this in your face, but you aren't an angel anymore. If you die you don't burst into a cloud of sparkles and reform in Heaven. When this body dies you'll..." She grimaced. "Well, I guess we don't know what will happen to you when this body dies. So don't die. I'm not saying don't fight, just maybe don't charge directly into the dragon's mouth. You don't have to win this alone. We can all fight. Heck, some of us even have a pretty new god sword."
Zariel glanced down at the hilt of Pariah's weapon and said reluctantly, "Very well. I will try to be a bit more cautious."
Pariah wasn't sure she believed her, but she'd done all she could. She squeezed Zariel's shoulder and then took her position behind Bjarnson.
He took off as soon as she was aboard, not even looking back to be sure the others were keeping up. He ran the dogs fast through town, and once they were out on the Eastway he called out, "Hike! Hike!" while shaking the reins, urging the dogs to speed up until they were running full out.
They had faced the dragon and driven it off twice, once in the forge and once in Easthaven. From what she'd seen as it had flown away, the dogs were probably faster in a straight chase, but it could fly. It could take the straight route to Caer-Dineval over the lake, while they had to head west to the crossroads before turning north. Who knows how far behind they'd fall before it reached its destination?
They were running right into the wind. She was shielded from the worst of it by Bjarnson's bulk; she hoped the white rose was still protecting him. She looked behind to see the rest of the group close behind. None of them had any special protection against the freezing wind. She fished the coffee bottle out of her pack.
"Bjarnson," she called out, "slow down a little so Zariel can catch up." She showed the coffee bottle to him.
He nodded and said, "I made a harness with a wrist loop so we won't drop it when we have to pass it around."
"Oh, you're the one who did that," she said. "Thanks."
"Lulu," she said to the asteri in her cloak, "tell Zariel to come get the coffee and share it with the other sled. She should keep it since the three of them will need the warm up the most." Then, as a thought occurred to her, she asked, "How are you doing in the cold?"
"I'm fine in here," Lulu said. "I'm not exposed like the rest of you."
Zariel came up alongside the sled. Working through Lulu as a translator so they didn't have to shout over the wind, she had Zariel take the cord and put it around her wrist before taking the bottle. Zariel then dropped back as she took a drink. One good thing, Pariah thought to herself, is it would be impossible to spill the hot coffee from the magical vessel even when drinking while riding an axe beak.
Pariah hunkered down behind Bjarnson again and reviewed their two battles against the dragon.
The thing had been frightening from far away in the forge, but downright terrifying up close. She had thought its breath of focused light was its worst attack, but seeing the size of those claws and teeth made her think they were a bigger threat. They had certainly knocked Zariel down easily. Pariah could move quickly, try to stay behind it, but she was worried that Zariel was going to go charging in again. The tiefling still had a healing potion but didn't know if any of the others did.
As for their own attacks, the militia's crossbows hadn't seemed to do anything, and even the ballista shots had been little more than an annoyance. A creature like that probably required spells and magical weapons; luckily they had both.
Unfortunately her cold magic hadn't seemed to affect it. She knew Dejen's magic tended to attack the mind, and she didn't know if that would do anything against a construct. Even Zariel's glowing sword had been less effective than Pariah would have expected.
Pariah's new blade had easily cut through the crystal. She grudgingly admitted that maybe Tempus's intervention had turned the tide, given them a chance. However that meant they'd have to keep it in sword range. This weapon wasn't much good if it was flying.
She had an idea about that -- a really bad, stupid, suicidal idea. If it worked then it would give them the advantage they needed. If not, well, the soothsayer's premonition of her death might come true after all.
In the meantime, she had an hour or so to think of a better plan.
Notes:
As usual, I ran this through Roll20, but this time I ran it as Theater of the Mind rather than trying to find a map. The dragon is either 60' away (when flying) or in melee range (when landed), though a PC can choose to be farther away to use ranged attacks.
Other dragons have a fear aura. The chardalyn dragon has a malevolent aura that causes people to attack allies. I didn't want to deal with that, so I gave it the standard dragon fear aura -- not that it mattered because everyone made the DC 16 saves.
Eberic, Dejen and Zariel all have one level of exhaustion from cold (disadvantage on skill checks since I'm using the 2014 rules). I looked at the 2024 exhaustion rules and, although I like the way they generalized exhaustion, I didn't use those rules in this battle. I might implement them later.
Pariah's musing about damage translates to "immune to cold, immune to psychic, resistant to radiant". Long after the battle I realized that, despite being a construct, it is not immune to psychic so, uh, I guess that was a house rule.
Chapter 115: The Silence of Caer-Dineval
Summary:
After chasing the chardalyn dragon from Easthaven, the group races to catch up to it in Caer-Dineval.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
Bjarnson ran the dogs hard along the Eastway, which was wide and flat. After they turned towards Caer-Dineval at the crossroads, he still urged them to their limit. It was a rougher ride after the turn since the ground here undulated somewhat, but Pariah didn't want him to slow down. She trusted him not to push the dogs or the sleds beyond their capabilities.
It was still dark and windy with no moon and hardly any starlight. They pressed on through the darkness barely able to see anything outside of the pool of light around them. Pariah knew there were no trees or boulders on this path they had traveled several times so, short of an animal running in front of them, it should be clear ahead. She got a little nervous when they came within sight of the cliff that dropped to their right down to Lac Dinneshere -- even in the darkness she could see the land drop away to reveal the minimal starlight reflecting off the ice in the distance. However, Bjarnson gave the cliff a wide berth.
The light spell on the front railing, which Lulu had refreshed as they left Easthaven, was still burning when they saw the castle Caer-Dineval rising from the ridge ahead. Blowing snow obscured their vision but she could get glimpses of the town ahead. She watched for flashes of light that could be the dragon's breath, but saw nothing.
"Do you think we beat it here?" she asked Bjarnson, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.
"I can't see how," he said, "unless it decided to bypass Caer-Dineval and head somewhere else to keep us guessing."
"Maybe," she said. She hoped that wasn't true. She had been thinking of it like a machine; it did what it was told. But it had spoken. That implied it could think. If it diverted from the planned route, they'd have no way of knowing where it had gone. Avarice could check in with the speakers, but Pariah had no idea how frequently she could use that magic. She doubted it was very often.
As they got closer to town, Bjarnson pointed silently at a line of destruction that had cut through many of the houses on the edge of town. One near wall had collapsed, exposing the interior. Furniture stood undamaged in the dark rooms, like looking into a dollhouse.
The partially built wall around the edge of town still stood about chest high, undamaged. The road was blocked by a wooden palisade but there was no guard in the road and nobody came out from the nearby buildings to challenge them.
Bjarnson brought the sled to a stop in front of the palisade. "Hello!" he called out, though it wasn't likely his voice would carry far in the wind. The dogs panted, sending out clouds of vapor that quickly disappeared into the cold, dry air.
Haol and the other sled pulled up next to them. There was a moment of silence while they surveyed the town. They could see more destruction, but still no shape flew over them, no spears of light pierced the buildings, no sounds of battle reached them.
"There are lights in the castle," Bjarnson said.
That was true, but there were no lights anywhere else.
Zariel dismounted and said, "Dejen, come help me move the palisade."
The man, standing behind Eberic, didn't react right away. "Maybe Avarice killed it," he said.
Pariah would love to believe that, but that didn't explain why the town seemed deserted even by Ten-Towns standards.
Dejen continued to stand on the back of the sled in shock. Eberic turned and shoved him. "Go," he said sharply.
"Huh?" Dejen said. "Oh." He stepped off the sled and hurried to grab one end of the palisade and help move it out of the road. Bjarnson flicked the reins and the tired dogs started to trot forward while Zariel and Dejen mounted their rides and followed.
Bjarnson stopped again at the crossroads. Pariah looked down the road that led to the pier. The watchtower on the shore that had always stood dark and silent in the past was still dark and silent now. It had also been cut in half, the top sheared off and laying on its side next to the foundation. Dinev's Rest, the abandoned inn at the base of the road, was missing a section of its roof.
Bjarnson pulled the dogs to the left and they started along the road that curved upwards along the slope towards the castle. He let them walk, possibly letting them rest or possibly to give him more time to survey the damage.
The destruction was erratic. The house the speaker had been staying in was intact. Further down the road, Culver's house had been crushed. This hadn't been done by the dragon's breath. More likely it had smashed the house with a claw or even its whole body.
"Culver!" Dejen called out in a panic, leaping off the sled to run to the rubble. "Culver!" he called again.
"Get back here!" Eberic snapped.
Pariah said, "Dejen, he's probably at the castle. Everyone's probably at the castle."
At least that's what she told herself. That had been the agreement: the Black Sword would protect the residents. Certainly there didn't seem to be anyone in town. Thankfully, they hadn't seen any bodies either.
"Yes," he said, turning away from the rubble to look up the road. "You must be right." He hurried back to the sled and they continued around the curve.
The buildings grew sparser. Ahead of them, the Uphill Climb tavern stood surrounded by empty land. It was dark like everywhere else, but it showed no damage. Beyond that was the castle.
Pariah breathed a sigh of relief when she saw three figures on the front battlements. Light came from the arrow slits of the towers. The gates were closed but one of the guards yelled something and the portcullis started to rise.
As they reached the road that branched off towards Caer-Konig, Zariel urged Haol ahead and then stopped him in front of the sleds. She turned to face the others as the sleds stopped. "The dragon is gone. We should follow it, catch up in Caer-Konig." She nodded down the road.
"We should be sure everyone is safe," Pariah said. She suspected Zariel didn't want to get near the devil-worshiping cult, and Pariah agreed, but it was important to be sure that the townspeople were being protected. Besides, she wanted to know what had happened.
Zariel looked towards the castle and said, "I suppose you are right. A brief stop won't make much of a difference. But we shouldn't linger." She waved Bjarnson forward.
As the sled started to move again, Pariah asked, "How are the dogs doing? Do they need a rest?"
"Probably, but I think they can keep going. I want to look over the teams real quick while we stop."
Pariah frowned towards the castle. "I agree with Zariel; we shouldn't linger."
"Just a quick check," he assured her. "Let's stop at the gate. Don't go inside. You can ask them what happened."
The group started up the road, still moving at a walk. The portcullis had finished rising and the gates opened outward to welcome them into the keep, but the group stopped just outside. Bjarnson dismounted and knelt down next to the dogs, running his hands over their backs and legs and talking softly to them. Pariah wanted to help, but she knew she'd have to represent the group.
Atop the wall were a young human man, a tiefling man, and a third figure. The tiefling and the human wore no cold weather clothing and, if that didn't make their allegiance clear, Pariah recognized their faces as cult members. The third figure was bundled up in furs, so she assumed this must be one of the townspeople. The two cultists held lanterns out to illuminate the area in front of the gate.
"Welcome, sister. Come in!" the human man called out.
Pariah grimaced. "No, thanks," she called up. "We aren't stopping. Where is the dragon?"
"Avarice bravely fought it off and it fled into the night."
"Ha!" said the fur-clad figure derisively.
"He's lying?" Pariah asked him.
"I'm not," the cultist said, glaring at the other person. "She saved the whole town."
"Eventually," the bundled up man said. He lowered his oversized hood to reveal a human man with wavy, auburn hair spilling out from a leather helmet that marked him as one of the town militia. "She cowered in her basement while the dragon razed our homes. The speaker practically had to drag her out into the courtyard to fight."
"That's a lie," the tiefling cultist said hotly. "She saved your town. You should be bowing to her, to all of us!"
Pariah suspected the truth was somewhere in between the two stories, but that didn't matter. "Which way did the dragon go?" She knew its route but wanted to be sure it wasn't doubling back or abandoning the plan.
"North," the tiefling said, pointing.
"Where is everyone?" she asked. "The town is empty."
"They are here," he said in surprise. "We protected them, just as we agreed."
"Is that true?" she asked the militiaman.
"Well, yes," he admitted. "They came out and banged on everyone's doors, telling us that a dragon was coming. Some people came to the castle. Others didn't believe them, and the speaker said they'd imprison us if we went, so some people stayed in town. But then one of the wizard's monsters came back from scouting, and the soldiers said the dragon was nearly here, so everyone finally moved to the castle with the agreement that the militia would stand guard alongside the Helmites."
His comment confused Pariah for a moment until she remembered that the cult claimed to be worshipers of Helm rather than telling the town the truth.
The man continued, "Sure enough, the dragon showed up and started to burn the town, but nobody would do anything. As long as it didn't come near the castle, they said, we were safe. But that thing was destroying our homes! The speaker and the commander demanded that they go out and fight the thing off, but they refused. Finally that pale wizard came up. I thought she'd shoot fire or something, but she just summoned this massive scaly hand that grabbed the dragon like it was a toy and smashed it into the ground. The dragon broke free and flew away." He pointed north, the same direction the other man had.
"Why are you all still in the castle?" she asked. "The danger is over. Are you being kept against your will?"
"Well, no," he admitted. "We just figure that it might be gone but it might come back."
"I don't think so," she said, looking towards the northern sky. "It's flying a path around Ten-Towns. If it's done here, it's moved onto Caer-Konig and then it will hit the western towns." She assured him, "And we're going to stop it before it gets that far."
"You should come inside," the human cultist said. "I'm sure that Kadroth and Avarice will want to speak with you."
"No," Pariah said. "We have to chase after the dragon before it does more damage." Reluctantly she added, "Thank you for protecting the people here, but I think it's time to let them go."
He continued to smile at her. "I'm sure Kadroth and Avarice-"
"I don't care," she snapped. "We're leaving as soon as the dogs are ready. If Avarice wants to talk to me, then she better get her ass out here before we go."
The cultist's creepy smile faltered a bit, and then he said to the tiefling man, "Go tell Kadroth and Avarice that they are here. Hurry!"
As the male tiefling ran towards the tower to the left, Pariah said to the militiaman, "I'd like to talk to the speaker or the commander before we go. Hear their side of the story." She didn't want to delay, but she knew it would take a little while for Bjarnson to finish checking the dog teams.
"I'll get them," he said, and ran after the tiefling.
"Do you need anything?" the cultist asked. "Food? Hot drinks?"
Food and hot drinks sounded good. So did a warm fire and a soft bed.
"We're fine," she said.
She dismounted the sled and started checking the dogs herself, but she quickly realized she didn't really know what she was doing. The dogs were all panting hard and many of them had laid down in the snow. None were obviously hurt, but their injuries would be joint or muscle injuries and she didn't know how to look for those.
Zariel had dismounted. She and Eberic and Dejen were gathered around the warming stone passing around the coffee bottle. All three were shivering. She glanced over at Bjarnson but he was still busy with the dogs.
She stood and went over to the group. Zariel held out the coffee bottle but Pariah put up a hand to refuse it. They needed the warm up. "How are you all doing? Do we need to stop?"
"No, we are fine," Zariel said through chattering teeth.
Pariah frowned at her. She said to Eberic, "You're the local. You know best. Do you need to stop?"
"We'll manage," he said. When her frown deepened, he said, "People are going to die if we stop. I think we can all tolerate a little chill."
"I agree," Dejen said, though with less enthusiasm than the others. "However, when this is over, I'm going to find a tub of hot water and not come out until Midsummer."
She snorted. "Well, Midsummer is only two days away, so that's not that long." Her journal let her keep track of the date, which she did so she knew how long until the next round of sacrifices.
"What?" he said, momentarily stunned. "Oh my, you're right." He looked up at the dark sky, currently obscured by thick clouds and blowing snow. "I still can't believe we are at the height of summer."
Pariah waited impatiently for Bjarnson to finish. She wanted to get after the dragon as soon as possible, and wanted to get away from the cultist who continued watching her with his vacuous smile.
A stocky, blonde half-elf woman came hurrying out of the keep towards the gate. Pariah recognized her as the militia commander, Lieutenant Melithurdrenn. She gave the group a nod of recognition. "Do you all know what's going on?" she asked as she got close. "I know what they've told us, but I don't trust them."
Pariah said, "There was a duergar fortress in the mountains. We sent them back to the Underdark but they sent that dragon to destroy Ten-Towns. We are chasing it down."
The commander grunted as she studied the sky. "Are they going to attack again?"
"The duergar? No, I don't think so. We gave them a bloody nose, and the only reason they came up from the Underdark was..." She stopped, not sure the woman would believe Asmodeus was involved. "Doesn't matter," she said. "The point is they are gone. As for the dragon, it's making a circuit of the towns. I'm not sure if it will go back to the empty fort or if it will continue attacking. Not that it matters because we are going to stop it."
The other woman studied her with her head tilted back. "Appreciated," she said with a little skepticism in her voice. "Has it hit any other towns?"
"Yes. We just came from Easthaven. It did some damage there but we drove it off." She paused. "Dougan's Hole looked pretty bad as we passed, and Good Mead was its first stop."
"How bad?" Melithurdrenn asked.
Pariah paused, unsure of how much detail to give. "The storm was still raging so we're not sure. A dozen or two dead, the speaker and a lot of others are missing. And the greenhouse was destroyed."
"Gods," the woman said. "And you really think you can stop it? I saw you fight the giants, but this thing..." She shook her head.
"We've tangled with it twice," Pariah said, "hurt it both times." She drew her sword and ignited the flame along its edge. "This cuts through the crystal like butter. And we have a lot of magic on our side." She wasn't sure how true that was at this point. They were all pretty drained.
"Crystal?" the commander asked, puzzled.
"It's made of black chardalyn." As she said that, she found herself wondering if the dragon had been leaving pieces of itself behind. She hadn't been paying attention. "If any shards came off, collect them. Don't touch them; they're dangerous. I know that Easthaven is keeping some of it safe in a vault so they might be able to take it off your hands." Very firmly she said, "Do not give it to these people," she waved vaguely at the castle.
Lieutenant Melithurdrenn glared towards the keep. "You don't have to tell me not to trust them. I don't know what they are up to, but I don't like it, Helmites or not."
Pariah ached to tell this woman the truth, but the geas still held. "That's smart," is all she said.
Bjarnson rose from his examination of the dogs. Pariah asked him, "How are they?"
"Tired, but not too bad." He had taken four of the dogs off the line. He said to the commander, "Can you keep these four here for now? We'll come back for them, but they're showing some strain so I don't want to keep running them right now."
"Sure," she said. She squatted down and took hold of their harnesses. "We'll keep them with the others."
"The ones from the castle?" Pariah asked.
"That's right."
"Alassar's okay then?"
"The dog boy?" she asked. "Yeah, he's fine. He's in the kennel now," she nodded towards the building in the castle courtyard.
"Anyone hurt in the attack?" Pariah asked.
"No, though some were a little roughed up by the Helmites." At Pariah's frown, the lieutenant added, "They weren't beaten or anything. The guards were just a little enthusiastic herding everyone here."
Pariah didn't like the sound of that. "You should all get out of the castle. Go back home. It should be safe now."
"You're sure?" the commander asked.
She wasn't; the dragon still might come back. However, despite the fact the Black Sword had protected the townspeople, she still didn't trust them. "I'm sure."
As Melithurdrenn clumsily walked the dogs towards the kennel, bending over to hold onto all four harnesses, Pariah thought of something. She yelled after the commander, "Has anyone warned Caer-Konig?"
She looked back and shrugged. "Not that I know of."
Pariah looked up at the man with the black sword pendant up on the wall. "What about you? Did Avarice send a message north?"
"We received no such orders, sister," he said cheerfully.
She shook her head in disgust and said to Bjarnson, "So the other dogs are ready to go?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
"Then let's get going. I want to get out of here."
They mounted up and started back down the hill past the Uphill Climb and towards the road that led north to Caer-Konig. As they neared the intersection, a shape dropped out of the sky and thudded to the dirt road ahead of them.
It looked like a statue of gray stone, a hideous humanoid figure with horns and sharp teeth and wings. This must be one of Avarice's gargoyles. It pointed back towards the castle.
"No," Pariah said. "We are leaving."
It pointed again, spreading its stone wings across the span of the road.
"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. She dismounted and drew her sword. "No!" she said more firmly as flames licked up the blade. "Now get out of our way or I'll carve you into gravel."
It didn't move. She raised her sword threateningly, and finally it flapped its wings and flew up to perch on the roof of one of the houses. Pariah quickly got back on the sled. "Go!" she hissed to Bjarnson, "before Avarice herself comes after us."
As they raced into the darkness she looked behind them. The gargoyle leapt into the air and followed them about twenty paces behind. She briefly thought about firing a beam of icy energy to discourage it from following, but decided against doing so. Let Avarice watch. At least they could see this spy.
Notes:
At first I was going to have them fight the dragon and have Avarice join in, but then I figured she could drive it off herself. Then I realized she wouldn't necessarily engage it without some pressure. After all, she is living up to the agreement of protecting the people; who cares if the town gets trashed? Then, of course, I realized the people would be pretty unhappy about that. So she got in some damage (Bigby's Hand) and it left looking for easier prey.
Chapter 116: The Devastation of Caer-Konig
Summary:
The hunt continues as the party hopes to catch up with the chardalyn dragon in Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
The wind was still strong but it subsided a bit as the dogs ran full speed past the wooden tripods that marked the path that could barely be called a road. Even Pariah was feeling the cold now, and she kept rubbing her arms to warm herself, though the leather armor made the gesture useless. Dejen and Eberic had the warming stone box open on their sled; she hoped it was helping them deal with the chill. The range of the stone was too small to encompass more than just one sled.
The white bulk of Kelvin's Cairn grew larger on the left as they made progress. As the miles flew past, she tried not to imagine what they would find in the town ahead. Easthaven had a large militia and ballistae. Caer-Dineval had a strong castle and a wizard. Caer-Konig had nothing other than houses, a ruined keep, and a handful of soldiers. Even if Trovus was half the champion he claimed, he wasn't likely to do much against the dragon.
Pariah looked behind them now and then to see the distant shape of Avarice's gargoyle keeping pace with them. She wondered if it would help them during the upcoming fight; she doubted it.
The road curved gently to the right around a hill to reveal distant buildings silhouetted against the sky. A massive, dark shape soared over the town. A beam of light speared down, burning across the roofs below.
Pariah was surprised when the sled slowed. "Hurry up!" she yelled at Bjarnson. "We have to get there!"
He said nothing, just pointed ahead.
Her stomach fell as she saw the bodies in the snow. A dozen people, a pack of dogs, a pair of sleds, and miscellaneous belongings were scattered among red stains in the snow. No scorched lines cut across them. They had been torn apart by claws and teeth.
She wondered if she knew any of them, but she was afraid to look more closely. They looked to be humans with a few dwarves. She didn't see a dragonborn so Trovus must still be in town, probably fighting with an axe in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
Bjarnson flicked the reins and the dogs picked up the pace. The shattered ruin of the keep dominated the skyline to their left, destroyed long before this dragon attack. However there were lights there.
"Look!" she said, pointing. Someone was on the rear battlements waving at them.
"I see them," Bjarnson said.
He passed the line of houses at the edge of town and turned left to pass through the gates of the ruined castle, into the courtyard where they had fought Sephek Kaltro long ago. Sleet had rained down on them then; now there was just a little snow, since the wind was blocked by the remains of the fortress.
"Get inside," someone yelled from the castle. "Quickly before it comes back!"
Bjarnson slowed to a stop. There was nowhere for the sled and dogs to go, no stable or kennel here. The walls were partially collapsed, but there were no holes wide enough for the team and sleds. They had to keep the dogs harnessed to be ready to keep chasing the dragon in its loop around Ten-Towns.
As Zariel and Haol came up to them, Bjarnson said, "Have Haol lead the dogs behind the keep." He pointed. "Between the keep and the back wall." Uncertainly he said, "I think they'll be safest there. But get them out of there if the dragon attacks."
Zariel dismounted and spoke to Haol in Enochian. Pariah watched her with concern. The woman's skin was paler than before and there was a hint of blue around her lips. Pariah nudged Bjarnson and nodded in Zariel's direction. "She's looking pretty bad," she said quietly.
"I know," he sighed. "Dejen is nearly out on his feet as well."
She looked over and saw Dejen. He clutched the box with the warming stone in shaking hands, holding it near his face even though Pariah knew the heat was no greater close to the stone. They had all unconsciously moved into its zone of warmth. She had thought the dragon's breath and claws would be their greatest enemy, but the penetrating cold of Icewind Dale might be what took them out. "I wish we could take a break," she sighed as she fetched her bow, quiver and shield from the sled.
"Me too," he said. "I feel fine, and you probably do as well, but I'm worried about the others."
She didn't feel fine. Her fingers were getting numb and not only was that a dangerous sign in the cold, she was afraid she'd drop her sword in combat. She looked off towards the dragon, who had landed and was merrily smashing houses along the icy shore of the lake. That hot bath Dejen had mentioned before was sounding mighty tempting. "I guess we better kill this thing so we can go somewhere and get warm."
Haol led the two dog teams around the building and out of sight, and the adventurers hurried into the shattered remains of the fort. The area was lit dimly by a single campfire. A couple of dozen people were gathered near the fire, and maybe ten militia were stationed along the battlements, crouched behind what cover they could find. A woman in a gray fur cloak over an intensely violet wool top jogged down the stairs and up to them. She had short, dark hair and lifeless, gray eyes. "You picked a lousy time to visit," she said. "There's a dragon attacking the town."
"We know," Zariel said, eyeing the fire longingly. "We have been chasing it. Where is Speaker Trovus?"
The woman scowled. "He's...resting."
"Resting?" Zariel asked, confused.
"I think she means drunk," Eberic said, disapproval strong in his tone.
The woman shrugged and then nodded towards a nearby building: Trovus's home. "He's in bed. We've tried to wake him but he's just snoring away."
"I see," Zariel replied. "Then who is in charge?"
"I'm commanding the forces here. I'm Sergeant Brailly. Sergeant Knucklespark is commanding the squad at the barracks, and I guess he's-"
She stopped when some of the soldiers on the battlements started yelling and firing into the darkness. However they weren't facing in the direction of the dragon; they were firing towards the western edge of town. Pariah drew an arrow and searched the dark rooftops but saw nothing.
"What happened?" Brailly yelled up to the wall.
"I don't know," a man shouted down. "Something flew in and landed on the roofs. It ducked behind cover."
Pariah continued to look for an enemy but saw nothing.
"Was it humanoid?" Zariel called up.
"I think so," the soldier said. "Like a man with wings."
Pariah grimaced and lowered her bow. Zariel said, "I don't think it means any harm. It belongs to the wizard in Caer-Dineval. I believe it is just watching, seeing how we fare against the dragon. And it is made of stone, so don't waste arrows on it."
Brailly mumbled, "That's all we need." Then she grew angry and demanded, "Wait, are you saying this is an attack from Caer-Dineval?"
"No, no," Zariel assured her. "There was an incursion of duergar in the mountains. They sent it ahead of their attack." Brailly started to say something, but Zariel added, "And we have already turned back that attack. This creature is the last remnant of it."
"Oh," the sergeant said, nonplussed. She frowned towards the wall; Pariah realized it was the direction of the road that came into town. "I wish we'd known that," she said. "Some people tried to run, hoping to get to Caer-Dineval. You probably passed their bodies on the way in. For now we're just holding out, hoping it gets bored and leaves."
"Were you not warned of this attack?" Zariel asked, steel in her tone. "Didn't Caer-Dineval send a messenger?"
She snorted derisively. "No, they didn't." Then she asked hesitantly, "How bad is it there?"
"They survived relatively unscathed, thanks to their wizard."
Eventually, Pariah thought to herself. She had to admit that the Black Sword had made good on their promise to shelter the town in the case of attack, though she still didn't trust their motives. She made a mental note to be sure that everyone who went into the caer came back out.
Zariel continued talking. "Unfortunately, Easthaven, Dougan's Hole and Good Mead did not do so well. The weather has made it impossible to assess the damage," she waved at the dark and blustery sky, "but I fear the worst."
"Shit," Brailly sighed, closing her eyes.
"Take hope," Zariel assured her. "We fought this monster twice, driving it off each time, and we will drive it out of here. We will not rest until this creature is defeated."
The woman looked them over. "I see," she said in a carefully neutral tone.
"I assure you we are quite capable," Zariel said, standing proudly despite her shivering. "Stay under cover. I suggest you do not engage it. Non-magical weapons do not seem to damage it."
"We've noticed," she said. "We got it with a bottle bomb and that seemed to hurt it, but it hasn't been close since."
"Yes, we've noticed fire seems like a good weapon. Still, there is no reason to endanger yourselves. Stay hidden and leave it to us. By the will of Lathander and Tempus, we will be victorious." She turned to Dejen. "We should leave the warming stone here. We aren't going to need it during the battle."
He stared at the stone in the box wistfully. "But just for now, right?"
"Yes, just for now," Zariel said. She explained to Brailly, "We will leave this magical stone with you, but we will want it back. In the meantime, it will serve you better than a fire."
"Oh, is that what is happening," she said. "I thought I was going mad when it suddenly got warmer." She reached out for the box. "Thank you," she said earnestly.
Dejen reluctantly handed it over to her. "It shuts off if you close the box," he explained. "Not that you'd need to."
She nodded gratefully, and then carried the box into the fortress. As the survivors moved to gather in this second zone of warmth, Pariah couldn't help thinking a cluster of people would make a good target for the dragon. "We should go," she said. "Draw that thing's attention. Keep it away from the shelters."
They headed out of the castle and into the courtyard. The freezing air felt almost painful after they left the zone of warmth. She firmed her jaw and they jogged out into the dark streets.
Once they were outside the gate, Zariel stopped to watch the dragon as it took flight again. "I have been thinking of a plan during our journey," she said. "If we try to chase it, I fear either we will never catch up or we will draw the battle to the refuges. When we patrolled with Speaker Trovus, the buildings near the smaller pier seemed to be uninhabited. Let's see if we can lure it to the open area there." She touched her shield and it glowed brightly, a beacon in the darkness. "Come on!"
She didn't wait for a response. She ran down the road that curved around the top of the steep slope and led down to the ice-bound harbor. The others followed, and Eberic said, "Let's hope it lands again. It's going to be hard to fight if it's flying, especially in this wind."
The wind wasn't as bad as it had been in Easthaven, but a bowshot was still going to be difficult. Then again, it was a very large target. However, he was right. They needed to do something about its flying. While Zariel had been formulating a battle plan, Pariah had been trying to come up with an alternative to the terrible, terrible idea she had. Unfortunately, she had been unsuccessful. She didn't say anything to the others. They'd try to stop her.
Maybe the soothsayer had been right. Maybe this was her day to die after all.
She remembered something they'd found in the duergar fortress. She retrieved the bottle from her pocket, the stone vial marked "courage" in the language Dejen had called Undercommon. She broke the wax seal with a thumbnail and popped the cork, dropping it to the street. Hoping this wasn't poison to a tiefling, she downed the liquid. It burned its way down her throat, and she almost broke out into a coughing fit.
The burning turned into a comforting warmth that spread out from her stomach, through her body, right to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her racing heart slowed and her anxiety faded. What was she worried about? She had defeated Shummrath the pit fiend, and fought the legendary fey witch Iggwilv to a draw. She had demanded concessions from an archdevil. She had helped hold off an army of fiends led by Bel, the current ruler of Avernus, to save Elturel. This dragon? It had already fled from them twice. It was no threat.
The roads of the town were laid out in two arcs, a smaller one along the shore and a larger one at the top of the slope that led down to the lake. There were piers, warehouses and open plazas at both ends where the arcs met. The eastern plaza was larger and where the Northern Light inn and the Hook, Line, and Sinker tavern were. The buildings around the western plaza did seem to be abandoned, just as Zariel remembered. A single dock stretched out, broken from both the force of the ice over the last two years and the burning scar of the dragon's breath.
"Here," Zariel said, looking around the area with a critical eye. "The rest of you, get under cover. I will attract its attention." She drew her sword and it shone brightly alongside her glowing shield. She held herself up bravely but her limbs were shaking.
Pariah scanned the rooftops behind them and saw a shadow take a wing-assisted leap, landing atop one of the roofs. She scowled up at it. "I don't suppose you're going to help?" she shouted.
The gargoyle said nothing.
She dropped her shield. She'd need a free hand for her bow now, and for something else later. "Lulu," she said as she nocked an arrow, "light up this arrow, please."
Lulu came out from her spot in Pariah's cloak pocket and flew up to touch the arrowhead. The tip glowed brightly. Pariah waited for Lulu to fly away, and then she released the arrow towards the shape that was currently over the plaza between the Northern Light and the Hook, Line, and Sinker. The arrow dwindled to a spark in the distance. She wasn't sure if the dragon was within range of the bow, but she wasn't trying to hit it.
"Again," she said as she nocked another arrow. Lulu flew forward, lit up the arrow, and then backed off. Pariah fired.
Unfortunately, her efforts were swallowed in the blowing snow. The dragon didn't seem to notice them at all.
"This might work," Dejen said uncertainly, brandishing an ivory wand with a red gem set about a third of the way from the base. Pariah remembered they had gotten it from the Netherese tower, and he had created a burst of fireworks in his inn room once.
"Great. Go ahead!" she said.
He stared at the wand indecisively. "It needs a flame." His brow furrowed. "Bjarnson, could you throw fire into the air? I'll see if I can hit it?"
"Worth a try," the big man said. As he took off his mittens he frowned at Dejen's hands, which were visibly shaking in the cold. "Give me that. I think I'll have a better chance of hitting it."
Dejen handed over the wand and then buried his hands in his pockets while trying to draw his cloak around him. "Wish we had the warming stone," he said.
Bjarnson mumbled something and a fire appeared in his left palm. He threw it into the air and then pointed the wand, pressing on the gem. Nothing happened.
"Little hard to aim," he grumbled. "I'll keep trying."
Pariah had continued firing glowing arrows and she was getting impatient. The dragon had landed again and she knew it was near the barracks and the Frozenfar expedition shop. Debris flew but she couldn't tell what was being destroyed.
A burst of pops and bright lights over their heads made her jump. "We did it!" crowed Dejen.
And then after a moment, he said sadly, "It didn't see it. Let's do it again the next time it takes flight."
They didn't have to wait long before the dark shape rose into the air again. Bjarnson threw a flame in the air, pointed the wand, and fireworks burst over their heads again. Pariah blinked as her vision was dazzled, but she could still see the dragon turn and start to glide towards them.
"Get to cover!" Zariel yelled.
As the dragon flew towards them, it made an easier target. Pariah drew another arrow and let it fly, not bothering to have Lulu light it up. She managed to hit the dragon's shoulder, and its head turned to look at her. She would be the only one visible, standing in the middle of the plaza while the others sought cover behind walls of brick. Threads of light gathered along the dragons chest, climbing to converge in its throat. Now just a few dozen feet off, it opened its mouth to reveal a ball of light.
She sprinted towards the warehouse ahead, dropping her bow to draw and ignite her sword. Her shield still lay on the ground behind her. Light speared through the darkness, smashing through the brick corner of the wall and burning along her right side. She didn't know if any of the others were behind her because all of her thoughts were focused on the dragon.
It was still too far away for most of them to attack but it was closing. A crossbow bolt flew into the night and burst into purple sparkles, but the wind had blown it off course and it was too far to coat the dragon in a helpful glow. That was a pity because it would have help Pariah orient herself. It was moving fast. She'd never tried this with a moving target. It would have to be timed perfectly.
Now! It had to be now!
She stepped forward into a cloud of swirling ice crystals. For a split second the world around her lingered, painted in shades of gray, the sounds of battle muted, her vision fading into grayness after a short distance. She barely had time to wonder if something had gone wrong with her spell before she disappeared from where she was standing.
She reappeared on the dragon's back.
Pariah was mildly disoriented by the strange hiccup in the spell, but that feeling was quickly swept away by panic when she realized she hadn't considered two things. First, the dragon was moving and she wasn't, so she immediately started to slide along its crystal skin. That led to the second problem: the chardalyn surface was smooth and didn't give her boots much purchase. She was about to slip off and fall three stories to the ground below.
She threw herself to the side, twisting around and reaching out with her left hand. Her fingers were half numb; even she was feeling the freezing temperatures after hours in it. She felt cold, hard crystal slam into her palm and she closed her hand reflexively around the top edge of the dragon's left wing. It stopped her slide but the wing was thick and her grip was tenuous. She raised her flaming sword and chopped down into the joint where the wing joined the body.
The flaming weapon sunk into the crystal, which melted and dropped away. The wind blew droplets into her face and she grimaced as they burned her cheek. The dragon roared, a deep bellow that shook her entire body. She felt the vertigo rise as they started to fall. She drew her blade back and was surprised to see the wound was hollow inside. The wing seemed to be just a shell of chardalyn.
She struck again, aiming for the same point. The sword dug deep and the wing twisted. The joint bent in a way it wasn't supposed to bend, and the crystal splintered, extending the fracture she had cut.
Her face slammed into the crystal surface as the dragon crashed to the ground. Her handhold slipped and she sled along the black chardalyn. She expected to slip to the ground, but the dragon twisted and flung the damaged wing out, throwing her into the air. She slammed into a wall, her sword falling from her hand as the world spun. She fell, only a few feet, and managed to stay standing.
She was still dazed as the dragon roared words she didn't understand, right before smashing her with a claw. She tried to move aside but her body wasn't quite ready to obey her yet. The claw pinned her against the wall and she struggled to breathe as it pushed her into the brick. She futilely tried to push it away or twist out from the hold. She called up her magic, releasing an uncontrolled burst of dark energy since she didn't have the gem in her sword to focus her spell, but the dragon didn't even flinch. It bared its teeth and continued to speak threatening words she didn't understand.
A ball of flame hammered against its right side. Lulu darted around its head, yelling and striking with her tiny sword. Zariel attacked its left side, her face twisted in rage, her weapon burning with black-edged flame. Pariah hadn't seen that before and, even in the pain of her ribs being crushed, she felt a twinge of worry, afraid that Zariel might be tapping into her dark past.
However, these distractions were enough that the pressure from the dragon's claw diminished slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough that Pariah was able to slip her wiry body out of its grasp. She tried to run away, still unsure where her sword had landed, but it lashed out. Pain blossomed in her hip as it struck, and she fell to the cold, snowy stone of the plaza.
Get up, she told herself. Move!
But her body wouldn't respond. She felt someone grab her and drag her along the ground. She heard the crackle and whine of the dragon's breath and the plaza lit up, but it didn't burn across her skin.
Healing energy flowed into her. It took the edge off her pain, though her hip still throbbed. She was still being dragged across the plaza, but she put a hand against the ground to push herself up.
Dejen had a grip on her cloak, but his form was blurry and shifting. Pariah shook her head to clear it -- she must have hit her head -- but he still looked blurry. She realized that everything else looked sharp and detailed. Maybe he was under some spell.
He fired a small vial from his arm launcher towards the dragon. "You should stay down," he said, his voice shaking.
"I'm fine," she lied. She sat up, wincing at the pain in her hip. Zariel continued to fight with fury, though the black flames were gone from her sword. Bjarnson turned his hands to bear paws and slashed at it as his ball of fire continued to slam against another part of it. Acid from the vial Dejen had shot scarred the black crystal. Eberic stabbed his ice dagger at its back leg, digging a deep hole. From what Pariah could see at this distance, the leg looked hollow as well. Maybe the whole thing was hollow.
She couldn't see Lulu. She didn't know if that meant the asteri had turned invisible again now that Pariah was safe, or if something had happened to her. If the latter, Pariah tried to comfort herself that Lulu would have just appeared back in the Seven Heavens like she had after the Summer Star had exploded.
"Where's my sword?" she asked, looking around. "Never mind, I see it." It was lying in the snow at the base of the wall she had been crushed against, its flame extinguished. The battle had moved off a little so she limped over to snatch it up.
Pariah leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Dejen was right. She should stay down. That would be the smart thing to do.
She ignited the flames along the edge of the blade and limped towards the dragon.
Thankfully the dragon didn't pay her much attention. It spread its wings and brought them down in an effort to take to the air, but with both wings damaged it wasn't able to lift itself off the ground. It roared in fury and turned its rage on the nearest target, Eberic, who nimbly dodged and rolled as the claws slashed at it. It also lashed its tail at Bjarnson, who was now behind it. The web of energy gathered in its chest again.
Eberic stabbed at the web of glowing lines, finding a flaw in the crystalline structure. His dagger sunk into the black chardalyn to the hilt and the crystal exploded outwards as the glow died. The dragon smashed down with a claw. Eberic dodged, leaving his ice dagger behind in the wound, but the claw caught his cloak. His feet went out from under him and he ended up flat on his back. The other claw stamped down. He rolled, but the talons raked across his thigh, cutting through the leather like it wasn't there.
Pariah yelled, trying to pull its attention away, as she slashed her flaming scimitar across its side, where the ribs would be in a regular creature. She cut a huge gash through the chardalyn into the cavity beyond. Through the gap she saw its black crystal heart, throbbing with golden energy. The dragon turned to snap at her, but Zariel intervened, catching the teeth on her shield.
Pariah slashed again, widening the gap. That created just enough space that she was able to stab her sword into its chest cavity. The tip of her flaming blade pierced the black heart. It sunk in only a finger-width, but it made a crack in the pulsating chunk of chardalyn. Blinding light spilled out and she stepped back, nearly falling as pain spiked into her hip. She swung again, cutting across its crystal skin.
The dragon loosed a mournful roar as it tilted away from her and collapsed on its side, its bulk crashing through one wall of a warehouse. The glow from the heart faded into darkness. Fractures started to appear across its body. Pariah hobbled back, her sword raised defensively. The structure of the dragon caved in on itself, leaving an uneven pile of black chardalyn scattered across the plaza.
Notes:
First the important news: I'm going to start posting every two weeks for a while. I've had a couple of big projects at work plus waves vaguely at what's happening in the world, so it's been hard to find as much motivation as before, and my writing has slowed down. Once I've built up more of a lead, I'll go back to weekly posting.
Now, for the story notes.
Pariah and Eberic have 1 level of exhaustion from the cold; Zariel and Dejen have 2 levels. Bjarnson is the only one untouched. I promptly forgot about that during the actual fight, but they did WAY more damage than necessary so it wouldn't have changed anything.
Pariah drank a potion of heroism. It was mostly for narrative effect, but the temp HP and the boosts from bless were pretty nice. She actually went to zero HP and failed a death save. Eberic went down too. Zariel used searing smite, which I treat as a remnant of her fiendish past. It was necessary because it's resistant to radiant and Zariel was doing very little damage.
This was another Theater of the Mind battle. I didn't let him use his claw and tail attacks on the same targets. I assumed the PCs were smart enough to scatter so he couldn't get more than 2 characters in a line for his breath weapon: his primary target and then a random second target.
Although I'm happy with the battles as written, I wasn't happy with the fights themselves. Yet again I forgot the lesson that solo villains suffer from the action economy. The chardalyn dragon doesn't even have Legendary Actions to mitigate this. I would have given it some if I'd thought about it.
After Easthaven, where I had given it lots of extra HP to extend the battle, I found Paragon Creatures by the Angry GM. I used a 2x paragon form in Caer-Konig, and yet I still had to use 3x the HP to make the battle a decent length. I wish I'd used paragon from the beginning, something like a 4x or 5x paragon to reflect the number of battles they had (including Avarice's solo venture), though that would have required redesigning it from the ground up.
That was one problem with how I described Avarice's battle. I didn't give it more HP in Caer-Dineval, so she drove it off very easily.
There are some other boss battles coming up in the story and I need to do a lot more thinking about how to design a solo creature to be a threat, or remember to give them minions. Minions wouldn’t have made sense for this battle (though a horde of smaller chardalyn dragons could have been fun), but might be appropriate for future enemies.
Chapter 117: The Agony of Victory
Summary:
The chardalyn dragon has been defeated, but the destruction of five towns lies in its wake.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
The group stood unmoving and alert, not sure if the battle was really over. Their lungs puffed and wheezed, sending clouds of misty breath to be swept away by the wind. They watched the pile of shattered black crystal to make sure it didn't reform and attack.
It didn't.
Pariah shifted her weight to her right leg, taking the pressure off her aching hip. She put a hand on Zariel's shoulder to steady herself. "You have any healing magic left?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not," the other woman replied. "I think there are still some healing potions among the group."
Pariah considered that for a moment and then made a dismissive shrug. "Nah, maybe not. There are probably people here who need it more than I do."
She surveyed the group. Bjarnson was on his knees wrapping a quick bandage around Eberic's thigh. Dejen was leaning back against a wall, wincing as he gently probed at burns on his hands. Pariah could feel Zariel shaking with cold and fatigue under her hand.
"Let's get to the castle," Pariah said, nodding up the road that led to the ruined keep. "Let them know that thing is dead."
She jumped as something heavy crashed into the ground in front of her. She raised the scimitar she still held in her hand, igniting the flame along the edge.
It was the gargoyle. It raised one stone arm and pointed to the side. It watched her silently.
Pariah looked in that direction but saw nothing except a line of abandoned houses and the dark wilderness beyond. It took her only a moment to realize that Caer-Dineval was in that direction. She turned a sour look on the gargoyle.
"No," she said. "We might go see Avarice the next time we pass by, but we still have business here."
The gargoyle pointed again.
She was tired, cold, in pain, and in no mood for Avarice's orders. "No!" she said again more forcefully. "Now get out of here before we make you look like that." She pointed to the pile of black ice shards while raising her sword threateningly.
The gargoyle looked around. The others were watching the exchange alertly, ready to spring into action. It turned and walked towards the remains of the chardalyn dragon.
Pariah lowered her sword with a sigh of relief; she wasn't in the mood for another fight. Then she realized the gargoyle was picking up the largest shards of black ice, cradling them in the crook of its other arm.
"Stop that!" she said, limping forward. "Put those down!"
The gargoyle snatched another handful of chardalyn and then took to the air. Pariah touched the crystal on the pommel of her sword and sent a ray of freezing cold that painted frost along its stone skin, but it flew into the darkness and was quickly out of range.
"Talona's tits," she said through gritted teeth.
"Should I follow it?" Lulu asked.
"No," Zariel said. "We know where it is going."
Dejen asked, "Was it a good idea to attack her servant like that?"
"I don't care!" Pariah snapped. Then she took a breath, released it, and said, "Sorry. Bad day. But I don't care. Nobody should be touching this stuff, and we certainly don't want someone like her getting her hands on it."
Eberic was scowling at the black chardalyn. The gargoyle had snatched a couple of handfuls; there were still wagonloads of the crystal left. "What are we going to do with this? We can't just leave it here."
Pariah looked over the black ice. She hadn't even considered that there would be an immense amount of evil-infused crystal to dispose of after the duergar weapon was destroyed. "I don't know," she said. "And right now I don't care. I know it's important, and I know we need to figure something out, but we are a mess and we need to take a break. Let's go tell the militia that the danger is over. Maybe they can put a guard around this stuff until we decide what to do with it. And then let's head to the inn and get some rest." She looked up at the dark, blustery sky. "Gods, I can't even tell what time it is."
Dejen pulled out his magical timepiece. "A bit less than an hour before sunup."
She didn't believe him at first. How could so much have happened since the last time the sun had dimly lit the sky yesterday afternoon? Good Mead in ruins, her dive into the frozen lake, the fight at Easthaven, the fight here, hours of racing across the frozen tundra. Days must have passed in that time, right?
She retrieved her shield from where she had dropped it at the beginning of the battle. Zariel came up beside her and put an arm around her waist. "Lean on me," she said.
"I'm fine," Pariah lied, but put a hand on her shoulder to take the weight off her hip as they headed up the road that curved around towards the top of the ridge.
Bjarnson tried to help Eberic in the same way, but the dwarf waved him off irritably and limped his way along at the rear of the group.
As she hobbled her way along the sloping road, Pariah tried to comfort herself that none of them had died, not even her. The effect of the bravery potion was wearing off, and she felt a rush of terror as she thought about how many ways her reckless attack could have gone wrong. When she had envisioned her plan, she had appeared on the dragon's back, cut into its wing, and then expertly rolled off as it crashed to the ground. The reality had been a little more...real.
The momentary feeling of relief that they were all still standing faded as she remembered that plenty of people had died in the towns the dragon had attacked. The casualty count was lower than it would have been if they hadn't intervened, but dozens of people had been lost.
They hadn't gone far before Haol came trotting down the road towards them, the dog teams close behind. Zariel said, "I thought you could use the ride."
Bjarnson and Eberic spent a few minutes clumsily turning the sleds around in the narrow streets, and then Pariah lowered herself onto the packs with a sigh of relief. Zariel and Haol led the sleds up the road to the ruins of the castle.
Soldiers watched them expectantly from the battlements as they rode through the collapsed gate and into the courtyard. "Sergeant Brailly!" Zariel yelled.
Voices inside echoed her call, others shouting, "They're back." It wasn't long before a woman in a gray fur cloak came out from the ruins of the keep.
"The dragon has been destroyed," Zariel declared. "Caer-Konig is safe."
A ragged cheer went up from the soldiers on the wall. A babble of voices came from inside the keep as the news passed through the crowd.
Brailly heaved a sigh. "Thank you," she said. "I don't think we had a chance against that thing. We aren't a wealthy town. I'm not sure what kind of reward we can scrape together, but you have our gratitude."
"No reward is necessary," Zariel assured her. "We were only too happy to rid the area of such a threat."
Pariah reflexively thought that a reward shouldn't be so quickly dismissed, but she also knew the sergeant was probably right about the town's financial state, especially after such a disaster. And, to be fair, she didn't care about a reward. That was just the poor street kid in her talking.
A voice said, "So we can go back home?" It was a man standing in the doorway to the keep.
"I believe so," Zariel said, turning back to the sergeant. "The invasion has been stopped and the duergar weapon destroyed. It should be safe for everyone to return to their homes."
Brailly turned towards the crowd that was gathering in the courtyard and said, "All right, you heard her. Everyone head back home. If your house has been damaged, take shelter where you can. Be careful picking among the rubble. A lot of these buildings were ready to collapse even before the dragon attacked. We've lost too many people already; I don't want to lose more."
There was a mix of emotions among the townspeople, ranging from relieved laughter to stressed sobbing. They all started to gather their possessions and head towards the road outside the castle.
Bjarnson raised his voice slightly to say, "We'd like our warming stone back. Who has that?"
There was a pause while everyone looked around. Pariah had a moment where she started to wonder if someone had quietly closed the box and slipped it among their other possessions, but then she felt a wave of warmth surround her, and a portly human man with an overbite came through the crowd holding the open box with the warming stone. He wasn't wearing any furs, which made her momentarily suspicious. However, she realized he wasn't actually overweight; he was just wearing many layers of wool clothing. It looked like he'd worn his entire wardrobe, maybe to let him carry more of his possessions.
He didn't immediately hand the box over. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to sell this," he said. "I could scrape together about fifty drag-" He broke off with a grunt and a frown. "Fifty gold coins."
"Sorry," Bjarnson said, reaching out a hand. "We spend a lot of time in the wilderness and it's too valuable. Not for sale at any price."
"That's what I thought," he said with a disappointed sigh. As he handed it over, he asked, "Where did you get it?"
"Some abandoned tower in the middle of the tundra."
The man snorted. "Let me guess. Filled with monsters and evil magic?" he asked skeptically.
"Exactly," Bjarnson replied.
The man laughed. "Fine, don't tell me. But if you ever do want to sell it, my name's Hankin Grayshard. I live in the house with the green shutters." He pointed towards the east. "And I can probably do better than fifty."
"I'll remember," Bjarnson said politely.
As Hankin and the other townspeople headed out of the courtyard, Zariel said, "Sergeant, does anyone live on that side of town?" She nodded in the direction of the battle.
"Not many. Most people have ended up on the east side. Why?"
"The dragon was made of black chardalyn. Are you aware of the dangers of the stone?"
She scratched her chin. "I've heard stories. Not sure which are true and which are fairy tales."
"Black chardalyn has been infused with evil magic, that much is true," Zariel said very seriously. "It can corrupt anyone who comes into contact with it. With the dragon destroyed, there is a large pile of it in the open area at the head of the pier down there. It is essential that nobody get near it. We will figure out how to dispose of it safely once we have rested."
Brailly frowned in that general direction. "That's going to create a problem," she sighed. "Since the west side is mostly abandoned, we've been using those buildings as crypts." Her frown deepened. "Is it going to raise the dead?"
Zariel, surprised by the question, stammered, "I don't think so. Eberic? The dwarves know a bit more about it."
Pariah remembered him telling them that a large amount of black chardalyn had driven half of Dwarven Valley mad during the Sundering. He said, "I'm not sure. We did have zombie problems during Baerick Hammerstone's coup, but I don't think it was because of the crystal. Just keep it away from the bodies and I think it will be fine."
"Maybe we could gather it up and dump it in the lake," Brailly mused.
"No," Eberic said firmly. "That will just turn the fish into monsters or something. We have to find a way to seal it up."
"Easthaven has a vault for that," Pariah pointed out.
"I thought of that," he said. "The problem is how to get it there."
"Maybe the dwarves could take it," Dejen suggested. "You've disposed of it before."
Eberic's face clouded. "We aren’t here to take care of your garbage. Humans need to deal with their own problems."
Pariah didn't bother pointing out that it hadn't been humans who had been the source of the problem. Not that dwarves should take responsibility for duergar actions, but she figured Dejen had a point that Dwarven Valley had apparently disposed of a large amount of the stuff so might have some ideas.
"Let's talk about this later," she said. "We'll head to the Northern Light and get some rest first. We can figure this out in the morning." The adrenaline had long since faded and she was feeling the cold and the fatigue.
Zariel said to the sergeant, "I would suggest sending some of your soldiers to guard the chardalyn and keep away anyone who might be curious. As long as they stay a couple of spear lengths away, they should be safe. But my companion is right; we all need rest. We can figure out a plan in the morning." Diplomatically she added, "And perhaps Speaker Trovus will be feeling better and can participate in the discussion."
Brailly turned a sad expression towards the speaker's house. "Yes, I'm sure he'll feel better in the morning."
"We can stop by the barracks and let them know what's happened," Zariel offered.
"No," the sergeant said. "I'm headed that way. I need to talk to Knucklespark anyhow. We'll have to coordinate the squads to start searching for survivors and transporting bodies to the crypts. Again, thank you."
As the sergeant started calling the soldiers down from the walls, the group headed out into the streets. The townspeople were still making their way home, but they moved to the side as Haol and the dog teams came through. The wind was weakening and the sky was barely starting to lighten across the lake.
Pariah eyed the buildings gloomily as they passed. There seemed to be no pattern to the destruction. The dragon had destroyed on a whim. As they came around the curve at the top of the ridge, she saw Frozenfar Expeditions. The building looked intact as did the warehouse next to it where the group had sheltered their dog teams when they had visited in the past. She was glad when Bjarnson glided past rather than stopping; she didn't want to take even the short walk from there down to the large plaza between the Northern Light Inn and the Hook, Line, and Sinker Tavern. He could run the dogs back up after dropping them off.
The sled slowed as they came down the hill and she heard Bjarnson say something she didn't catch.
"What?" she asked.
"The inn," he said over his shoulder. "It hit the inn."
Pariah used the railing to pull herself up from her seat on a backpack. The front of the Northern Light was collapsed, probably by a swipe of the dragon's massive claw. The kitchen and dining area to the left, and the guest rooms to the right looked reasonably intact, but the wall around the entrance was gone, exposing the reception area. She couldn't see the shifting colorful light that gave the inn its name.
Two figures were huddled together among the rubble in the reception area, neither of them wearing furs. "Hey!" Bjarnson called as he leapt from the sled and hurried over. "Are you all right?"
Pariah looked around the rest of the plaza as she also dismounted, though more slowly and clumsily than Bjarnson. A nearby house had been smashed completely, and the big warehouse in the middle of the plaza had a scorched hole punched through the middle. The Hook, Line, and Sinker looked like it hadn't taken any damage.
She limped over to see Allie, the younger of the sisters who owned the inn. Her short, blonde hair was being blown about by the wind. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, though she had the dull expression of someone who had no tears left. She was cradling the body of her sister, Cori. Bjarnson took off his crag cat fur cloak and draped it around Allie's shoulders and then knelt down to examine the other woman. After a moment, he turned to shake his head at the others.
"Are you hurt?" he asked Allie.
The woman shook her head mutely.
"You should get out of the cold," he said gently.
The front half of the reception area had collapsed, but the rest of the inn looked intact. Unfortunately, other than the rooms, there were no other doors. The dining room, kitchen, hall to the sisters' rooms, and hall to the guest rooms were all open. With the front wall gone, there was no way for the building to hold heat.
"Is that the only stove?" he asked, nodding towards the corner of the reception area.
She shook her head. "There's one in the kitchen," she said in a small voice.
"And there's just a curtain between there and the dining room," he said. "Is there somewhere else you can stay?"
Allie looked at him with a blank expression. "I can't leave. I'm the only one left to take care of the inn now."
"I'm sure it will be fine for a day or two. We could take Cori to the crypt if you like-"
"No," she said, hugging her sister's body more tightly.
"All right, all right," he said. "But you can't stay here. It's too cold."
"But I have to take care of the inn," she said helplessly.
He sat on the floor and put an arm around her, looking helplessly towards the rest of the group.
Allie needed a little time to grieve, but Bjarnson was right that she needed to get out of the cold. Pariah wondered if Allie would at least move to one of the warehouses like they did with the dogs. Then she had a different idea.
"What about the warming stone?" she said. "We could set it up here," she waved vaguely towards the back of the reception area. "They can stay in their rooms for now. We could camp out here in the reception area." To Allie, she said, "We can let you know if any customers come." She certainly didn't expect any, but her comment seemed to put the woman's mind at ease.
"Maybe," she said.
Bjarnson looked towards the dining room. "I could whip up some food in the kitchen, if that's all right with you." Gently he added, "How about if I take Cori to her room?"
Allie looked down at her sister and tears started to well up again, but she nodded.
As Bjarnson carefully lifted her sister's body from her arms, Zariel said, "Dejen, come help me with the packs."
Pariah watched them go and then hobbled after them. She might as well start unharnessing the dogs.
Notes:
The module has Avarice keep in touch with her gargoyles through the use of Rary's telepathic bond. The designers apparently never noticed that the spell has a duration of only an hour, because they imply she is in constant contact with them. This bugged me but I finally decided in this chapter that she can renew it before it expires even though they are more than 30 feet away, and since it's a ritual spell she can do that as often as she wants without burning spell slots.
Chapter 118: A Light Extinguished
Summary:
The group helps Caer-Konig rebuild after the dragon attack. Pariah, physically limited by her injuries, listens to Cori grieve over the death of her sister.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
Pariah took another sip from the wine bottle. Eglendar, the tavern keeper, had brought over a couple of bottles of carrot wine for her to manage the pain in her left hip. Although members of their group had healing magic, none of them had the ability to take away pain like Rowan had. For now, that meant using alcohol to dull the edge of it.
She was feeling the buzz of the wine and getting sleepy, but she forced herself to stay awake as Allie talked. They were in Cori's room sitting in chairs they had brought in from the dining room. The door was open so that Pariah could keep an eye on the warming stone on the floor of the hall outside. The wind had lessened as the eastern sky had lightened so no snow blew into the building.
Cori's body was laid out in bed under the blankets. Allie had carefully cleaned her up -- there had been blood in her hair from the falling debris that had fractured her skull -- and then tucked her in. Since then, Allie had regaled Pariah with story after story of growing up with her sister, occasionally adding comments like, "Do you remember that, Cori?" or "Wasn't that funny, Cori?".
Not surprisingly, Cori never answered.
The sisters had been running the inn together for many years, and it had mostly just been the two of them. Cori had no friends or lovers. Allie had many friends in town, though any man who got close to her had been chased away by her sister.
Pariah had expected some tale of woe, some crisis about the death of a loved one or a broken heart that had turned Cori into the hateful bitch she had been, but no. Apparently she had been like that since she was a child: mean and unpleasant and rude.
But she was also Allie's sister, and Allie loved her in that way you love your family no matter what they do. So Pariah listened to her stories so she could process her grief.
Pariah's companions, after resting for a couple of hours and taking an early lunch, had headed out to see how they could help the town rebuild. Bjarnson had examined Pariah's hip and said it should be fine after a few days of rest. After looking at the others he had told Eberic he should also take it easy, but predictably the dwarf had said he was fine and limped out along with the others. Pariah didn't know where everyone was at the moment, but Bjarnson was in the inn's kitchen the last time she'd checked. With Allie's permission, he was cooking up food to hand out to anyone who needed it.
Pariah felt guilty that she wasn't out there helping the survivors but, in addition to her own need to stay off her feet, Allie needed someone to talk to. Over a dozen people had stopped by to offer their condolences. Unfortunately, they all had their own grief to deal with so hadn't stayed long. Everyone had lost people. Pariah didn't recognize most of the names, but someone mentioned that Atenas, one of the two who ran Frozenfar Expeditions, had been leading the expedition out of town and had been among the bodies they had passed on their arrival.
Pariah looked up as she heard heavy footsteps from reception. She expected Bjarnson, but instead coming down the hall was a silver dragonborn wearing splinted armor and a fur vest. "Trovus!" Allie exclaimed with the brightest smile she could muster. "I'm so glad to see you are all right."
Allie stood and crossed the room to give the speaker a hug. The dragonborn wrapped his muscular arms around her tightly as he squeezed his eyes against the tears that started to flow. "I'm sorry, Allie," he said with a sob. "I'm sorry I didn't protect her. I'm sorry I didn't protect all of you."
"Oh nonsense," she said, pulling back to reach up and put a hand on his scaly cheek. "You've always been there for us when we've needed you."
"That's not true and you know it!" he roared, and she stepped back in trepidation. "I'm nothing but a broken-down drunk, a has-been hero. This was the worst disaster in this town's history and I slept through it! I was-"
He broke off as he winced, put a hand up to his head, and swayed against the door jamb with a thud.
"Trovus, are you all right?" Allie asked in alarm.
He nodded, his eyes shut against the pain. "Just hung over, like the pathetic boozer I am."
"Now you stop that," she chided him gently. "You just sit down here and I'll fetch you some water." She guided him to the chair she had been sitting in, which creaked under his weight, and then she hurried off towards the kitchen.
Trovus put his head in his hands and groaned. He opened one bleary eye to look at Pariah. "I wanted to thank you," he said. "I hear you all took down that dragon."
"We did what we could," she said. "The militias helped, here and in the other towns that got attacked. Thiala, the eladrin in Good Mead, hurt it pretty badly and so did Avarice, the wizard in Caer-Dineval. We just finished it off."
He groaned again, squeezing his head.
"Hair of the dog?" Pariah suggested, holding out the wine bottle.
"No!" he barked, sitting up to his full height and leaning away from the bottle like it was cursed. "I'm never touching that poison again!"
"OK," she said, pulling the bottle back. "Sorry," she said with genuine contrition. She corked the wine and put it on the floor on the other side of her chair.
He buried his face in his hands again and said, "Other towns were hit?"
"Yeah," she said. "Good Mead, Dougan's Hole, Easthaven, Caer-Dineval."
"Gods above," he whispered. In a louder tone he asked, "Is it bad?"
"Hard to tell," she said carefully. "The towns are still tallying up the casualties."
She debated telling him about the destruction of the greenhouse in Good Mead, but decided against it. He had enough bad news to deal with at the moment. And that had nothing to do with his drinking or his sudden vow of temperance. One of the things the group had talked about during their rest was that the collapse of the mead and honey trade would be devastating to the economy of the area, not to mention the morale of the towns stuck in the dark and cold.
In response to her comment about casualties, he said, "I know. There have already been seventeen bodies brought to the crypts." He opened his eyes to look over at Cori. "Probably a few more that people haven't taken over there yet. Or haven't been found yet. People are digging through the rubble hoping that the missing are still alive." He turned to her. "I saw some of your friends helping out. Thank you for that as well."
Pariah felt a twinge of guilt that she was sitting in a warm room rather than out lending a hand, though she knew he hadn't meant his comment as anything negative. "Glad to help. I'd be out there myself but," she slapped her thigh and then winced, "I took a bad hit."
He smiled sadly. "Had a few bad hits myself over the years. You're young. You'll bounce back. It gets harder when you're an old drunk like me."
Allie came in with a tray of mugs filled to the brim with water, some of it dripping down the sides. "Here," she said. "You drink all of these."
"Allie, my sweet, you don't have to-"
"Oh pishposh," she said. "I'm happy to help. You just need to flush that nasty stuff out of your system. You'll feel right as rain in no time."
He took a mug and drained it with a series of gulps, releasing a satisfied sigh when he was done. He put the empty mug on the tray and then took another. "You're an angel," he said, and then he gulped down the second one.
As he took a third he said, "When I'm finished here, how about if we take Cori and lay her to rest with the others? I thought maybe the town could get together for a memorial at sunset."
Allie looked stunned and her eyes brimmed with tears.
He said gently, "She'll have to go sometime. I can carry her. I'll make sure she gets there safe. You can come or you can stay here, whichever you like."
Allie looked over at her sister while Trovus drank, taking a little more time with his third mug. "I suppose," she said hesitantly. "But I'll have to get her coat. It's cold outside."
"You do that," he said gently. "We'll dress her up nice and warm."
She looked out the door with a sense of helplessness. "I can't leave the inn," she said uncertainly.
Pariah said, "I'll watch the place for you. I'm not going anywhere."
"Well, I suppose if you wouldn't mind. Just for a bit."
"I'm happy to do it," Pariah smiled at her.
Trovus and Allie dressed Cori in her furs, and then Trovus gently scooped her up and carried her out of the room. Allie went across the hall to get her own coat and then hurried after him.
Pariah felt an ache as she watched them head through the debris in reception and out into the plaza. She knew this same scene was being replayed all across the eastern towns. This was going to leave a scar across Ten-Towns that might take years to heal, and still the cold and darkness held the land prisoner. Just the thought of that gave her a chill.
"Report!" came Avarice's voice in her mind.
"Talona's tits!" Pariah exclaimed. "Learn to be nicer when talking to people!" she grumbled in frustration. She didn't have a message ready since she hadn't expected the woman to contact her again so soon. Her gargoyle had already seen what happened. "Dragon's dead. We'll come by in a couple of days. Leave me alone."
She waited for a response but heard nothing.
Her mood fell even further because it reminded her that, in addition to the divine tantrum that surrounded them, there was still a devil cult with nebulous plans for the area. If the duergar had been driven back, and she still wasn't sure that was true, that didn't mean Ten-Towns was safe. Plus they needed to figure out what to do with cartloads of black chardalyn.
Pariah hadn't been lying about going by Caer-Dineval in the next couple of days. She wanted to be sure that the townspeople had been released from the castle and were unharmed. She and her companions had also grudgingly agreed that they should talk to Avarice. Levistus had claimed he wanted to stop Auril as well, and perhaps he or his wizard had some insight into how that could be done.
It's not like they had any other source of information. Zariel insisted that Lathander would guide them, but Pariah wasn't going to wait around for her to have some vague dream that could be interpreted a hundred ways. She remembered that Bjarnson had some ability to divine the future from watching birds fly or snowflakes fall, so maybe he could figure something out.
Pariah picked the box with the warming stone off the floor and limped into the reception area. A few of the sled dogs were there, inside the circle of warmth from the stone or near the whale oil stove in the corner. They perked up and a couple of them trotted over to see if anything exciting was happening. It was a challenge to work her way through debris and curious dogs towards the dining room.
There was nobody at the tables, though there were a few dirty dishes and bowls from previous patrons. The curtain to the kitchen was open to reveal a tight workspace with a stove and oven, a small stone-topped counter, and a narrow door at the back. Bjarnson stood at the counter chopping mushrooms. Enough heat came from the stove that he wasn't wearing his furs. A pleasant smell wafted through the air.
"Anything I can do to help?" she asked.
"You should be resting," he replied.
"You're right; I probably should. Anything I can do to help?"
He grinned at her. "I can probably find something for you to chop or stir while sitting down." He reached out with his left hand to grab his staff and hold it out to her. "Here."
She took it, confused. "What should I do with this?"
"You keep it for a couple of days as a walking stick. Use it in your right hand when you step with your left foot."
"Oh, yeah, OK," she said. "Thanks."
He went to the back of the kitchen, which was a trip of only two steps. "How's Allie doing?" he asked over his shoulder as he opened the door. It wasn't an exit as Pariah had expected; it opened into a pantry. He pulled out a burlap sack of potatoes.
"As well as can be expected," she sighed. "Trovus was here. They're taking Cori to the crypts."
He grunted acknowledgment as he dumped the sack on the floor next to one of the empty tables. "Sit down. I'll bring you what you need." He pointed to the sack. "Wash, peel, chop into bite-sized chunks."
"I can do that," she replied as she took a seat. She put the warming stone on the next table and leaned the staff against a chair.
He brought her a bowl of water and a scrub brush to clean the potatoes, a knife for chopping, and a small pot for the diced potatoes. She got to work, occasionally shooing away the dogs when they got too curious about what she was doing.
"Do you think they'll be able to repair the damage to the inn?" she asked Bjarnson.
"I don't know," he said. "Not really my area of expertise. I hope so."
Pariah had cobbled together the occasional shelter in her days on the streets of Baldur's Gate, but nothing like a real building. She glanced out at the reception area. Most of the damage seemed to be that front wall. She didn't know if it was as simple as putting up another brick wall or not. Eberic might know. He'd laid the brick for his house in Termalaine.
"Oh, hey, I was thinking," she said. "You can do kind of a divination thing, right?"
He made an uncertain noise. "A little, but not really. Why?"
"I thought maybe you might get some guidance about what we should do next. I mean I hate to say it, but right now our best option might be advice from Avarice, and I don't think any of us want that." She reflexively looked around for a raven or gargoyle who might be listening in.
"Oh, I can't do anything like that," he said. "I can just get kind of a hint about whether a fairly immediate action will be good or bad. You know, like 'Is it safe to eat this mushroom?' or 'Is it a good idea to enter this dark cave?' I've been gaining a little insight into events further and further in the future, but nothing long-term like you are talking about."
"That's too bad," she sighed. Sourly she said, "Well, maybe Zariel will have a dream. Or Lulu can go back to Heaven and ask around." She didn't expect anything from either activity. At least Levistus had given her concrete goals in Avernus.
Once Bjarnson was happy with the number of potatoes she'd diced, he dumped them into the stew pot simmering on the stove. Pariah collected the dirty dishes and started washing them. He kept trying to get her to rest, but she was fine as long as she stood with her weight on her right leg.
People wandered in and out to eat. A few lingered in the circle of the warming stone, but everyone had work to do so nobody stayed long. Many of them thanked Pariah and Bjarnson for saving the town. A few gave them little gifts of food or clothing or decorative knick knacks.
The light faded as night fell at around two in the afternoon as usual. The wind had been lessening, but it faded entirely as the light did. The night was calm and clear.
Allie returned to the inn. Bjarnson had done as much as he could in the kitchen at the moment, so he had started clearing the debris from reception. Pariah admitted to herself that she couldn't help with that, so she was sitting on the floor petting dogs and trying to keep them out of his way.
"You don't have to do that," Allie said emphatically to Bjarnson. "You've already done so much."
"I'm happy to help," he assured her.
"Well," she said reluctantly, looking around the room helplessly, "if you like. But you quit when you're tired."
Allie joined him and they slowly started to make progress clearing the area.
"Oh no!" Allie cried out.
"What is it?" Bjarnson asked in alarm.
She held up the shattered remains of the inn's magical lantern. The glass globe was broken, and the metal body was bent. There was no flame.
"Maybe it still lights," she said. "I'll get the flint."
"Here, let me," he said, reaching out for it. She handed him the lamp and he summoned a flame to his finger. He touched it to the wick and nothing happened. He held the flame there for a long period, but it wouldn't catch. "Maybe it needs oil."
She shook her head. "It's never needed oil," she said, her voice breaking. "It always just burns when you light it." She took it from him. "We just got it back after it was stolen, and now this. It's just too much!"
Allie started crying and Bjarnson put his arms around her. Pariah cast a glance up towards the indifferent gods. This poor woman had lost her sister and possibly her business; the destruction of the lantern seemed like a cruel twist of the knife.
Allie cried into his chest for a while but then stopped. She pulled away, wiping her tears, embarrassed. "Maybe someone can fix it," she said. "There are a few people around Ten-Towns who know about magic."
Bjarnson looked thoughtful. "Our friend could take a look." He quickly added, "I'm not making any promises, mind you, but he's put together a couple of magical items like a little crossbow that shoots fire. Maybe he'd have some ideas."
"You think so?" she asked, suddenly hopeful.
"Maybe. We can always ask."
"Oh, thank you." She wiped her nose with a sniffle. "Well, then, crying doesn't get the work done. Let's get back to it."
There was a thin brittleness to her bright smile as she put the lantern down on the mahogany desk in the back of the reception area, and then got back to cleaning up.
Notes:
Trovus is a silver dragonborn. Sometimes I have erroneously described him as a white dragonborn, since my brain goes "resistance to cold = white dragon", but silver are also resistant to cold. I went back and hope I found all those references and fixed them, but I wanted to clarify that point.
Chapter 119: Picking Up the Pieces
Summary:
A new day dawns on the devastated town of Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 29, 1496 (13 days after the New Moon)
Pariah leaned on Bjarnson's staff as she walked down the road that led to the plaza where they had defeated the dragon. He hovered by her side, ready to catch her if she slipped. It was sweet. It was also annoying, but she knew he meant well. He had tried to dissuade her from attending the memorial service, but she felt guilty she hadn't been helping with the rebuilding. The least she could do was offer her condolences.
A couple dozen of the townspeople walked with them, and she spotted Dejen behind them towards the back of the crowd, his construct walking stiffly beside him. She didn't see her other companions.
Trovus had walked through town like a crier, calling out that there was going to be a service at the crypts, and people had left their work to follow him. Some residents stayed behind, either tending the injured or injured themselves, or just too overwhelmed by the events of the day. Pariah looked at the crowd around her and wondered how many total survivors there were.
The sky was clear, though darkening as the light faded to the west, and many of the walkers carried lanterns to illuminate the way. Pariah and Bjarnson were near the front of the crowd, not far behind Trovus. She could see the plaza ahead and the pile of black crystal shards illuminated by the lanterns carried by soldiers. The chardalyn had been swept into a massive pile. There must be tons of it here. How could they possibly transport it somewhere safe?
And where was safe?
Trovus stopped at the entrance to the plaza and turned, his hands raised to stop the crowd. "If I may ask your patience, we need a moment to clean up this debris. Please stay where you are for your own safety."
Pariah frowned in puzzlement. It would take hours or even days to clean up the crystal. What did he expect to do in the next few minutes? The chardalyn hadn't even been pushed to one side. It was piled in the middle of the plaza. Four guards stood in a loose circle around it, each standing three or four paces away.
As Trovus approached the pile of black chardalyn, he pulled something from his pocket. Pariah craned her head to see. It looked like a small black cloth, a handkerchief maybe. The way it caught the light made her think it was silk.
He stopped near the pile and shook out the handkerchief. This small cloth unfurled into a circle as wide as the reach of a tall man. He carefully laid the black silk circle out on the stones in front of the pile. As he did, it changed, though she couldn't tell how. Something was just different.
From the reaction of the crowd, she wasn't the only one who saw it. They started to move forward to get a better look, and as she moved with them, she realized what was different. She wasn't looking at a black circle; she was looking into a dark pit. One of the guards approached Trovus and, as his lantern moved, so did the shadows inside the hole.
A mumble went up from the crowd. "What is it?" "How strange, it looks like a hole." "It's some kind of magic."
The soldier handed Trovus a shovel. "Let's get to it," the dragonborn said, and he buried his shovel into the pile of crystal.
He and the four guards, all of whom also had shovels, scooped up heaps of shards and dumped them into the pit. The crowd, including Pariah, continued to inch closer. She could hear the shovelfuls of black ice hit the ground inside the pit. The crowd watched in wonder as the pile of corrupted chardalyn was transferred into the hole that hadn't been there minutes ago.
Trovus had to warn the curious onlookers back twice while they worked. He finally told one of the guards to stop digging and just work crowd control. It didn't take them long and, when they were done, Pariah could see the top of the pile of crystal about a foot down from the edge of the pit. By this time, Zariel, Lulu and Eberic had joined the throng.
After that, they switched to brooms. They carefully scanned the plaza and swept up any shards they found, dumping them in the pit as well.
When they were done, Trovus handed his broom to one of the soldiers and then bent down to grab the edge of the pit. He lifted it off the ground and folded it over. The hole had had once again become a sheet of black silk, and the ground underneath was unmarked. He folded the cloth over and over, until it was the size of a handkerchief again, and then he tucked the silk into a pocket of his vest.
"Well, then," he said somberly. "Shall we get started?"
Flamerule 30, 1496 (14 days after the New Moon)
The following day, Pariah again stood with her friends among the townspeople. The crowd was smaller this time. This wasn't a memorial service. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, only that Trovus had assured them he had a way to get rid of the black chardalyn permanently.
They were standing on the shore of the small bay the town was built around. The land sloped up behind them, dotted with houses. One road followed the shore, and another mirrored it higher up on the slope. The roads met at the two plazas: the smaller one where they had fought the dragon, and the larger one where the Northern Light and the Hook, Line, and Sinker were located.
Trovus walked out onto the frozen lake. The ice was thick, but he was a muscle-bound dragonborn who was a head taller and a good deal broader than a human. She knew how cold that water was, even for people like him and her who didn't feel the chill like the others did. He strode confidently out over the snow-covered ice and it didn't shift or crack under his weight.
The weather had stormed last night and this morning, and they had thought this little ritual was going to have to be postponed. However, the blizzard blew itself out and the sky was clear now with only a few clouds. The sun lit the land as best it could from its position behind the Reghed Glacier on the horizon. The air was still, as though holding its breath to see what would happen.
Trovus was carrying a rope and a satchel. He refused to tell anyone what he planned, only promising with a grim intensity that the black chardalyn wouldn't be a problem after this.
About thirty feet from shore he stopped and looked back, surveying the area before nodding to himself. He dropped the satchel and rope on the ice and then reached into a pocket to retrieve the black silk cloth from the service the night before. He unfurled it to its full size and carefully laid it out on the ice. The satchel was on the far side of it, several feet away from the edge.
Pariah craned her neck and stood on her toes, but couldn't see anything from this angle. Lulu took to the air to fly over Trovus as he squatted down to tie the rope to the satchel.
Zariel told them, "Lulu says a pit has opened again. It's not a hole in the ice. She can't see water, just the black chardalyn inside the pit. As I surmised, it is some kind of extradimensional space."
Trovus stood up with the coil of rope in hand and started back towards the shore, unwinding the rope behind him. The onlookers moved aside to make room for him as he reached the land. The rope in his hand extended out across the ice, across the pit, to the bag on the far side. Lulu came back with him, and flew circles over the crowd.
"Everyone ready?" he asked rhetorically. "Keep an eye on it. This should be pretty dramatic."
He hauled on the rope, pulling the satchel towards the pit. As the bag reached the edge, he jerked on the rope and the bag fell into the hole.
The air twisted in on itself to form an intense white ball. Air and ice and water were sucked into the center of it and then it exploded with a bang loud enough to make Pariah jump. A breeze rushed from behind her as air was sucked into a swirling vortex, and then it was gone.
There was a clean round hole a good ten feet across in the ice. Water surged up out of the hole and then splashed back down. The surface roiled but quickly quieted down. Cracks appeared in the ice, radiating two or three feet out from the hole, and then it was all quiet.
"There," Trovus said with confidence. "All gone."
Eberic growled, "Dumping it in the lake isn't going to do any good."
"It's not in the lake," Trovus said. "You can go look."
Lulu flew off to investigate. After a moment, Zariel said, "Lulu can't see much. One moment."
Lulu landed on the edge of the hole and touched the ice, which started to glow. She peered down into the water. Zariel said, "She can't see anything in the water."
"It's not there," Trovus said. "It's in the Astral Plane."
Zariel looked stunned. Dejen's jaw was hanging open. He said, "How did you manage that? Can you do it again? I'd like to be closer next time."
"No you don't," Trovus assured him. "Anything nearby gets sucked into that rift. It lasts only a moment, but that's all it takes. And I can't do it again. I could only do it once."
"But how did you?" Dejen asked, already scribbling in the air with his magic quill.
"That hole opened up into a space in another dimension. So did that bag. It was bigger on the inside than the outside."
"Ah," Pariah said. "I used to have a bag like that."
Trovus continued, "The thing about those kinds of spaces is that when you put one in another, it tears a hole in reality and sucks everything into the Astral Plane, so normally you wouldn't do that."
Lulu asked, "Won't the people in the Astral Plane be mad that you just sent a bunch of evil crystals to them?"
He shrugged. "If so, they can come find me," he said dismissively.
Zariel was still staring out at the hole in the ice. "The Astral Sea is quite large, and I suppose it is likely that the chardalyn will scatter in the void rather than endangering anyone." She frowned. "I'm unhappy with dumping such an evil substance when we can't be sure it will be safe, but I can think of no better plan."
Trovus said in a loud voice to the gathered townspeople."All right, that's the show for today. We've all got work to do."
As the crowd started to disperse, he clapped Zariel on the shoulder and said, "How about if you and your friends follow me back to my house. I have something for you. A small token of thanks."
"Speaker, no reward is necessary," Zariel assured him.
"You're getting one anyhow. Come on." He started walking towards the intersection with the main road that led up to his house near the ruined castle. The group exchanged a look and then followed him.
Bjarnson walked a little faster than the rest until he was alongside the silver dragonborn. "So, Trovus, how are you feeling?"
The speaker grunted. "No better than anyone else in town."
"Probably a lot worse," Bjarnson said. "You're carrying a burden the rest of them aren't."
Trovus shot him a hurt and angry look, and Bjarnson added, "By which I mean you are dealing with alcohol withdrawal."
Trovus's expression softened. "Oh, that. I'm fine."
"No," Bjarnson said. "We aren't doing the 'I'm fine' nonsense. Withdrawal is dangerous. I have some medicines and advice that can help you, but you need to tell me how you are feeling."
The speaker huffed in annoyance and they walked in silence for a bit, but then he said, "Out of breath all the time. Heart's racing. Stomach's so twisted I can't eat. Head's about to explode. Everything irritates me. For some reason, I kind of want to punch you in the nose right now. No offense."
Bjarnson grinned, "None taken. That's all very common. How'd you sleep last night?"
"Sleep?" Trovus said with a bitter laugh. "Can't sleep without a drink."
Bjarnson patted him on the shoulder. "You will. It will take time, but your body will flush out the poison and you'll feel better in a few days." Grimly he said, "But it's going to get worse before it gets better. Do you have people who can stay with you?"
"Oh I don't-" Trovus began.
More firmly, Bjarnson said, "Do you have people who can stay with you?"
The speaker scowled at him and said, "Yes."
"Good. Not only are your symptoms going to be severe, but the cravings are going to get bad. It's not a time to be alone."
"They already are," he sighed. "I'd kill for a drink, and I'm pretty sure I mean that literally. But I just keep looking at the destruction around me. I keep thinking of all the dead." His voice broke and he wiped his eyes. "I'm not going to let them down again."
"You have a good community here," Bjarnson assured him. "Whenever they've talked about you, they've always been supportive. You have a lot of help."
"I know, and I'm grateful for that."
"In the meantime, drink water until you think you are drowning. Eat what you can get down, and eat healthy. I'll whip something up for you when we get to your place. Stay busy. Don't let yourself marinate in your own bad feelings. Focusing on the rebuilding is going to help your mind and your body. And know it will get better. It's going to be awful for a few days, but it will get better. I promise."
They arrived at Trovus's house. It was built of gray and tan stone held together with dark mortar. It had a steeply pitched black slate roof, small shuttered windows, and a much larger, unshuttered window at the peak of the front wall. He led them up three stone steps to a weather-beaten door of dark wood.
They followed him into a stone-floored foyer with hooks on the wall, and a bench with a pair of boots underneath to one side. Rugs covered the floor of the living room beyond. Four chairs made of thick wood sturdy enough to hold the weight of a dragonborn were arranged in front of a fireplace. Each chair had a large fur pelt draped over the back and seat. There were low, round end tables between each pair of chairs. Shelves and a cabinet lined the walls, and a single doorway led to a kitchen.
There was something off about the room. The furs on the chairs had been pulled to the side, and one chair had been knocked over. The cabinet doors hung open, its shelves empty. Piles of ash stained the stone hearth in front of the fire. From what they could see of the kitchen, the counters were strewn with a haphazard array of dishes, pots and pans.
"Take a seat," Trovus said. "Pardon the mess. I asked Jarthra to root through the place and find all my hidden bottles." He snorted. "There were a lot. Even I'd forgotten some of my stashes. I haven't had time to clean up. I'll be back in a moment."
Bjarnson followed him into the kitchen. In response to Trovus's inquiring look, he said, "I'm going to make you something to settle your stomach. You have to get some food down." The dragonborn opened his mouth and Bjarnson said, "I know. I don't have to. I'm going to anyhow. And drink some water while you're here."
"Need any help," Pariah called towards the kitchen while she and the others shed their packs and hung their furs on hooks in the entry.
"Not at the moment," Bjarnson replied. "I'll yell if I do."
Pariah lowered herself into one of the chairs, breathing a sigh of relief as she took the weight off her sore hip. She leaned Bjarnson's staff against the wall. She looked longingly at her pack, wishing she'd thought to retrieve the coffee bottle. It didn't seem worth limping over there or asking someone to get it.
"Ulis can help," Dejen said excitedly. He turned to his construct. "Ulis, go into the kitchen," he said very distinctly, pointing.
The automaton looked towards the kitchen, then back at him, then back to the kitchen. It started walking in that clumsy gait it had.
"I've got it handled," Bjarnson said. "You all rest."
"Ulis doesn't need to rest," Dejen said with pride.
The construct ground to a halt and the light in its single crystal eye died out.
"Oh," Dejen said, flustered. "I'll just get my tools and get you going again."
Pariah grinned as she watched him hustle over to his pack. She leaned forward and asked in a low voice, "Has that thing been any help?"
Eberic snorted and scowled at the stationary figure. Zariel, on the other hand, said diplomatically, "He has had his uses. If nothing else, the children seem to enjoy watching him."
Eberic snorted again. "It can barely lift a feather. And Dejen has to instruct it so much that he might as well just do the work itself."
"Well, he is good at repetitive tasks, like picking up debris," Zariel said
"Ha!" Eberic replied. "It threw perfectly good dishes into the junk pile."
"He does requires some supervision, but he seems to be learning."
Eberic responded with a sour look.
Trovus came into the room carrying a small wooden coffer. He paused to give Ulis a puzzled look, but then continued past him to sit in the empty chair. He opened the top of the coffer. "I still have a few things left over from my adventuring days. They're all just gathering dust and I figure your group might as well benefit from them."
He took out a corked vial with thick walls of brown glass. "This is a potion of might. Supposed to make you as strong as a giant." He held it out towards the group expectantly.
Pariah said, "Zariel? I think you'd get the most use out of it. It fits your fighting style best."
The woman hesitated. "Are you sure?" she said to Trovus. "You still have many years ahead as this town's defender. Perhaps you should keep it."
He shook his head. "I'm still tough enough to fend off a few orcs or yetis. I suspect you are going to be facing much more difficult enemies. Please. Take it."
"If you like," she said, reluctantly taking the vial from him.
Next he pulled out a thumb-sized scrimshaw pendant on a silver chain. A detailed ink drawing of a dragon claw adorned the front of the pendant. "I rescued this from the lair of a white dragon." He grinned and added, "A small one. It seems to protect the wearer from fear." Again he held it out expectantly.
Pariah considered it, but she'd already gotten the sword. Besides, in hindsight that potion of courage she had used worried her a little. She knew she could be reckless; fear kept her from going too far. She glanced at Eberic and Zariel and they just looked back at her.
She called out, "Bjarnson? Dejen? Anyone want a pendant of no fear?"
Bjarnson was focused on his cooking and made a non-committal noise. Dejen looked up from his work and, when nobody else spoke up, said, "I suppose I could take it."
He came over to get it. As he held it up to the light to examine it further, Trovus took one last thing out of the box. "We also found this in the dragon's lair." He pulled out a pipe with a black stem and a dark reddish brown bowl. Light reflected off the polished wood. "It's not useful, just an amusing gadget. I kept it as a curiosity, but I can't use it." He waved towards his face. "My lips can't close around the stem right. Any of you smoke?"
"I do," Eberic said, eying it curiously.
Trovus handed it over. "From what I understand, it's a fine pipe in its own right, but it also has some kind of enchantment that lets you blow the smoke into the shapes of creatures."
Eberic grunted. He reached for his tobacco pouch and started filling the bowl. As he tamped it down, Trovus brought him a taper lit from one of the lamps. Eberic puffed the pipe into life and then took a long drag. He held the smoke for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face, and then blew it out into a formless cloud. "Good draw. No bitterness." He nodded approvingly.
"That didn't look like a creature," Pariah said, nodding towards the already dissipated cloud of smoke.
Trovus said, "You have to concentrate on what you want to make."
Eberic took another draw and then furrowed his brow as he slowly blew out the smoke. It took the shape of...something four-legged. "A dog?" she guessed.
The dwarf scowled but nodded. "Marrit's the artist," he grumbled.
"I think it takes practice," Trovus said. "But keep it, even if you are just going to use it as a pipe." He snapped the box shut. "Well, that's all I have. I wish I had a gift for each of you. Certainly you have my gratitude. If you ever need anything, just ask."
He got up and headed towards the kitchen. Pariah looked past him to see Bjarnson stirring a pot on the stove, probably making a stew. Right now she couldn't smell the food over Eberic's new pipe, but then she'd always like the smell of tobacco smoke. She watched Dejen tinker with Ulis, Eberic make a few more attempts to form smoke animals, and Zariel and Lulu chat mentally about something. It was warm, the chair was comfortable, and her hip didn't hurt too badly. It was a nice moment considering what they'd been through in the last couple of days, but she grew somber as she remembered the destruction right outside the door.
She stared into the fire as she wondered if they would ever be able to bring this kind of peace back to Icewind Dale.
Notes:
Good news: I've gotten quite a few chapters written so I'm going back to weekly posting.
Back in Chapter 63, I spent a lot of time trying to think about how to get rid of nine tons of dead frost giant. That wasn't so bad, since it was just a matter of burying them.
I did the math on the dragon and even assuming it was a fairly thin shell of chardalyn, that's still a good five or ten tons of crystal. But it's not just crystal, it's evil crystal that is toxic and can be used for horrible things by people like the nearby devil-worshipping wizard.
I spent a lot of time trying to figure out even how to transport it, much less how to store it. I finally decided that Trovus had a portable hole and a bag of holding from his adventuring days, and that solved the problem.
The items Trovus gave them are a potion of hill giant strength, a scaled ornament (slumbering) and a pipe of smoke monsters.
The characters are all level 7. I'll link the character sheets in a later chapter.
Finally, after all this writing about mead, I decided to buy a bottle. It's not as sweet as I was expecting, though the one I got also contained berry juice that added a little bitterness to counteract the sweetness of the honey. It's nice, though I do NOT like it warm. That made the flavors too intense and the fumes made me cough.
Chapter 120: Cloud of Suspicion
Summary:
The rebuilding of Caer-Konig continues while the group tries to plan their next step.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Flamerule 30, 1496 (14 days after the New Moon)
The Northern Light had become a makeshift shelter for those who had been displaced by the attack. Thick fur pelts had been hung in the doorways to the dining room and the guest rooms. They didn't keep the spaces perfectly insulated, but they helped keep the warm air inside so people were chilly rather than freezing.
Focusing on helping kept Allie from losing herself in her grief. She was offering free food and shelter until the crisis was over. She tried to stay positive, though she'd broken down a couple of times. Each time, she'd pull herself together, say with brittle cheerfulness, "Crying doesn't get the work done," and get back to it.
Meanwhile, Eberic and a local bricklayer named Lucan had been rebuilding the inn's front wall. Due to the bitter cold, they had to heat the mortar by the stove and then apply it before it could freeze. Eberic was concerned that it wouldn't cure right in the bitter temperature, but Lucan assured him that it would be fine. Thankfully, other than a heavy fog that lasted most of the day, the weather remained as pleasant as it got during the Everlasting Rime, so they were able to make good progress on the wall.
Trovus also found that staying busy was important to keep him from drowning in his own negative feelings. He was sick and irritable and weak, but he was also driven to help the town he had failed. Bjarnson didn't want him to be alone during the first few dry days, and the locals had stepped up to put in shifts so that one or two people was always with him.
The speaker was doing what he could to find shelter for anyone whose home had been damaged. Some of the buildings were being repaired, but others couldn't be saved. He was going through his poorly kept property records to figure out who owned some of the abandoned buildings. The previous owners might have passed away but have family elsewhere in Icewind Dale or even farther away. He tried to respect those property rights but, when necessary, he was moving families into empty houses and simply declaring them the new owners.
The meager sunlight faded, but it wasn't long before the nearly full moon rose and bathed the town in dim, yellow light. Pariah and her companions made their way along the road from the Northern Light, where they had just finished dinner, towards the empty building by Frozenfar Expeditions they had turned into a makeshift kennel. They had spent the previous night at the inn, but the rooms were occupied by townspeople tonight so the group was going to sleep with the dogs.
Pariah was moving slow, leaning heavily on the staff Bjarnson had lent her, but she wasn't slowing down the group. Everyone was still recovering from their injuries plus exhausted from doing what they could to help with the rebuilding. They needed a rest, but that wasn't coming any time soon.
Dejen was looking behind them to stare at the bright moon rising over the Reghed Glacier. "It's Midsummer tomorrow," he said. He turned back forward. "You know, I had hoped we would have found a way to fix the Everlasting Rime before then. Better yet, on Midsummer itself. That would have been poetic."
"It'd be nice if Auril took the day off," Pariah said dryly. Wistfully she added, "The Tymorans always throw a big Midsummer party at the Lady's Hall. Lots of drinking and pranks and sex. Some of us would save for the gate fees for the whole year so we could go. Of course a lot of us also just snuck in." She furrowed her brow. "Is there a Shieldmeet this year?"
Shieldmeet was an extra day in the calendar every four years. Dejen said, "Yes."
She grunted. "Then I really wish I was home this year. The parties last two days instead of one. Meanwhile the Helmites do some big somber ceremony on Shieldmeet that takes itself way too seriously. We'd watch and make fun of them." Then, realizing that wasn't very respectful, she tried to change the subject. "So, Zariel, does Lathander do anything on these days?"
Zariel looked up at the sky. "On Midsummer, priests all over Toril perform the Song of Dawn at sunrise. It is a performance where scores of voices weave beautiful and complex harmonies to praise Lathander's name. I have witnessed a few in my time, and they were quite breathtaking. I had planned to make my own humble attempt in the morning, though the splendor will be lost with only a single voice."
"Two voices," Lulu said.
"Of course," Zariel replied.
"Is it something you could teach the rest of us?" Pariah asked.
"I don't think so. The priests spend months perfecting their individual parts. I'm afraid there is no easy way to teach you, but thank you. You are, of course, all welcome to attend and share in my devotion."
"What about the rest of you?" Pariah asked. "Do you do anything special?"
Bjarnson shook his head. "Midsummer doesn't mean much to me. It's more of a calendar holiday than a natural one. I sometimes observe the solstices and equinoxes, but I try to appreciate nature every day."
Dejen had been scribbling in the air, presumably documenting the various Midsummer observances in his unending notes about everything around him. Distantly he said, "There was always a small Midsummer festival in Riatavin. It wasn't tied to gods, and it sounds like it wasn't as raucous as the ones in Baldur's Gate. Food, games, jugglers, that kind of thing."
Eberic said, "Dwarves don't pay much attention to seasons. Our festivals and observances are driven by history, not by the sun. I think there used to be Midsummer festivals in Ten-Towns but then..." He waved towards the dark sky.
Pariah sighed as her mood darkened a bit. "Yeah, I could see the Aurilites pitching a fit if someone dared celebrate summer."
They arrived at their campsite. The dogs came out and started milling energetically around the group, and Pariah's disposition improved.
"Hey, now, stop that," Bjarnson laughed, holding a bag over his head. It contained meat for the dogs, and the pack was jumping excitedly around him. "I'm going to feed them," he told the others, and then he headed back outside as the dogs followed.
Dejen took out the warming stone and opened the box. The group shed their furs as the air became instantly warm. Pariah went to fetch her bedroll from her pack, but then she remembered she had left her bedding with the survivors in Good Mead. She moved her backpack near the warming stone and slowly sat down on it with a sigh of relief.
The others settled in as well. Haol watched them impassively from the corner. Bjarnson came back in and joined them. Pariah passed the coffee bottle around and they sat together in silence. Everyone was exhausted.
Finally, Pariah said, "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" With less to keep her busy than the others, she had spent a lot of time thinking about what their next step should be. She had some ideas, but wanted to hear their opinions.
"I'd like to go back to Good Mead and get a better idea of how much damage was done," Bjarnson said.
"All the eastern towns," Zariel added.
Dejen said, "We might want to revisit the battle sites and see if any black chardalyn chipped off."
Pariah nodded. She hadn't thought of that. Hesitantly she said, "Much as I hate to say this, we might want to check in with Avarice. See if she has found out anything." Nobody seemed happy with that suggestion and she added, "Hey, it's not my favorite idea either, but Levistus said he'd help with the Everlasting Rime after we dealt with the duergar."
"And you believe him?" Dejen asked.
Pariah looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Well, yes and no. I've said this before: devils don't lie, but they do mislead."
Eberic made a skeptical grunt and she paused, but he had nothing to say.
She continued, "Do I trust him? Gods no. Could he and his cult be of help? Maybe. And we may need an immortal to help against an immortal."
Eberic again made a noise, and again she paused. When he didn't speak, she asked, "What about you? What do you think we should do?"
He glowered at the ground. "I don't care. I'm leaving tomorrow."
His statement was met with a stunned silence. After a moment, Pariah asked, "Leaving where?"
"Home."
"You mean for a visit?" Pariah asked, already suspecting his answer.
"No," he said emphatically. "Not just for a visit."
The group exchanged a look. Zariel said, "That's understandable. You want to be with your family."
He gave a derisive snort, still looking at the ground. "Like you'd know," he snarled.
"Excuse me?" she asked in surprise.
"What would you know about family?" he demanded, finally looking up at her. "What would you know about affection and commitment and loyalty? What would you know about mortal lives?" His face grew red as he stood up. He looked like he was going to say more, but he grabbed his cloak and his tobacco pouch and stormed out of the building.
They watched him go, their jaws agape.
After a long silence, Zariel said, "Well, I suppose we should talk about that as well." She turned to the group and said, "I know we have been preoccupied, but I hope you have all had time to reflect on how you feel about my past. I don't know if I can answer all of your questions, but I will do my best to be honest. If, as seems obvious, Eberic is leaving because of my presence, then maybe I should be the one to go."
Pariah knew what she planned to do if that happened, but Zariel's identity hadn't been a surprise to her. Neither Dejen nor Bjarnson seemed eager to respond, but finally Dejen spoke up. "I have been thinking about things you have said in the past," he nodded towards Pariah. "Thinking about them in this new context. When talking about Zariel you once said that you trusted her intent, which seemed at the time like an oddly specific way of phrasing it. You also said she tended towards obsession, and that she struggles with her temper."
Pariah tried to remember when she had said that. She turned a guilty look on Zariel, but the woman shrugged. "It's not like any of that is a surprise," Zariel said.
Pariah said to Dejen, "I don't remember that, but I guess that sounds like something I'd say."
"Then let me ask you this, and perhaps I should ask you in private-"
"I can leave if it would make you more comfortable," Zariel offered.
"No need," Pariah said. "I'm going to be honest either way. Right now, the only way we are going to earn their trust is by telling the truth."
Dejen continued, "Then let me ask, do you think Zariel poses a danger to us? Do you think she could fall back into old ways?"
Pariah took a moment to frame her response. This was a question she had been asking herself since the first day she had met Zariel at Candlekeep. "I think," she began, "that if she has people like Lulu around, people like me, who can call her out if she starts to slip, that she will not pose a danger."
Dejen frowned thoughtfully. "That is a somewhat evasive answer," he said. "It implies you do think she has a chance of backsliding."
Pariah again struggled to find the proper phrasing, but then sighed in resignation. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't think she's going to suddenly turn into a devil any more than I think she'll suddenly turn back into an angel, but I worry that her anger and her..." She tried to think of the right word. "...her righteousness may lead her to dark places." To Zariel she said, "Sorry."
It was hard to read the woman's face, but she replied, "Those are the sins that led to my fall before, and what I am most concerned about myself. And although all mortals face such temptations, I fear that my past makes me more susceptible to such dangerous thoughts. All I ask is the opportunity to show that I have seen the error of my ways and do not let my passions control me."
Bjarnson made a skeptical grunt. Zariel turned to him in surprise, and he said, "Let Dejen finish. I'll say my piece when he's done."
Dejen leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees and steeple his fingers. "Unfortunately, my knowledge of Outer Planes beings is limited so I don't have much in the way of objective information on how remnants of immortal existence might linger after a mortal transformation." That statement got him a lot of puzzled looks. He clarified, "How much of the devil might be left."
He continued, "Pariah, if Zariel should turn on us, where are you going to stand, with us or with her?"
She scowled at him. "It depends on the situation."
"Another evasive answer," he observed.
"I can't give you a black-and-white answer to a vague question," she said in irritation. "If she starts spitting fire, sprouts red and black wings, and says she's going to kill us for the glory of the Nine Hells, then yeah, I'll stand against her. If you want to travel west and she suggests we go east, then I'm going to make my decision based on the facts. I'm not going to blindly support her or oppose her."
"You know what I'm talking about," he said sternly. "Don't cloud the issue."
"I'm not clouding the issue. I'm saying I can't answer the question. I won't automatically support her; I won't automatically oppose her."
He didn't seem satisfied with her response, but he turned towards Lulu. "And what about you?"
Lulu said, "I will stand with her no matter what. I let her chase me away once, and I won't ever leave her side again. I may not agree with her, but I'll always be her friend. Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth."
Dejen nodded thoughtfully. "She does seem to inspire loyalty," he said. "I suppose that counts for something." He leaned back again and looked off into the distance. "I am not opposed to continuing to travel together." He turned to Bjarnson.
The big man said to Zariel, "All this talk of angels and devils, Heaven and Hell, that's just blather to me. Just noise. Pariah said we should judge this person," he gestured in her direction, "and I agree. But you said you don't let your passions control you. We've all seen that that's not true. You've lost control due to, as Pariah put it, both your anger and your righteousness. Does that make you reckless and unpredictable? Sometimes. Is it dangerous to us?" He paused as he considered the question. "I don't know, though I'm less worried about you than I am your enemies. What do you think the chances of this devil -- what was his name? -- attacking us again."
"Asmodeus," Zariel said. "And I have wondered the same. I suspect the duergar were his agents in this area and, if they returned to the Underdark, then we are likely to be safe. There may still be duergar left behind, such as the ones who assassinated the speaker in Easthaven, but not many, and they no longer have their false priest to guide them. If Asmodeus were to act again in Ten-Towns, it is likely to take him years to get around to sending additional forces. He's not going to open a portal and send through an army of devils, if that's your concern."
"I had wondered," he admitted.
"He'll be more subtle than that," she assured him. "It is better to work through mortals than to make such an overt gesture."
"You speak from experience?" he asked in a carefully neutral tone.
She dropped her eyes. "I do," she admitted.
He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his red hair. "I don't know what to make of any of this," he said. "I'm not sure how to feel about it. And yet I am from Lonelywood, the town of second chances. It's where people go to leave their pasts behind and start over. Many of them are able to live happy lives. Others," he shrugged, "find they can't abandon their demons so easily. They find themselves reverting to old behaviors or hunted by old enemies." He frowned at her. "I suppose I'm willing to continue working with you to find a way to stop the Everlasting Rime. For now."
Zariel smiled in relief. "Thank you," she said to both Bjarnson and Dejen. "I am confident we can find a way to deliver this land from Auril's curse."
Pariah looked towards the door. "That just leaves Eberic," she said.
"Do you think he'll really leave us?" Zariel asked.
"I don't know," the tiefling sighed. To the two men she said, "Have either of you made much of a connection with him?"
They looked at each other before turning back to her with shakes of their head. Dejen said, "He keeps his own company."
"Yeah, I've noticed." Pariah looked towards the door again. "Let me try talking to him." She'd mediated more than a few disagreements during her days with the Forgotten. The crew had to stand together, and that meant everyone had to be willing to make compromises.
She pulled herself up with Bjarnson's staff, put on her cloak, and then headed outside. The bitter cold struck as she left the circle of warmth. She looked around, hoping he was just outside puffing angrily on his pipe, but she saw nobody. She doubted he'd head back to the Northern Light so she started walking down the street towards the other obvious destination: the Hook, Line, and Sinker tavern. If he wasn't there, she was in no shape to walk around looking for him. Maybe she'd ask Lulu to do a search from the air.
Thankfully, he was sitting at a table in the tavern with a mug in his hand, though he was puffing angrily on his pipe so she'd gotten that part right. Two other groups were seated, drinking with a gloomy air. The table by the door was empty of the free half-pints of mead that were usually there to start the night's drinking. News of the damage to Good Mead had gotten out, and she guessed Eglendar, the tavern keeper, was rationing his resources.
The aforementioned half-elf was standing by the barrels at the back of the room. He gave her a tired half-smile and pointed to the barrels with a questioning look. She held up her hand and shook her head as she hobbled over to Eberic. He glanced up as she got close but then looked back down at his drink.
She leaned down and said in a low voice, "Come walk with me."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because we should talk, and this isn't the best place for it."
He scowled up at her, but then said, "Fine," and downed the rest of his drink.
He followed her outside and she turned towards the buckled pier and a spot she had noticed earlier. Several crates were stacked up near the main warehouse. In her current shape, "walk with me" meant "walk over to someplace I can sit down."
The crates looked older than she had expected. From their condition, she guessed they had been there since before the Everlasting Rime, forgotten in the confusion of eternal winter's night. Their owner was probably one of the many who'd died over the last two years, and with the inlet iced over and lake traffic stopped, nobody had bothered clearing them out.
She brushed the snow off one of the crates and sat down gingerly. The old wood held, not even creaking, so she relaxed.
Eberic remained standing. "So talk," he said around the pipe clenched in his teeth.
Pariah stared off across the frozen lake. She hadn't prepared anything to say, hoping that inspiration would strike. She let the words come on their own.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to kill Zariel?" she asked rhetorically, knowing she hadn't shared that story.
He said nothing.
She continued, "It was when she was a devil. We had been trying to save Elturel, the city she had taken from our world into Hell. The only way we knew to do it was kill her, which would have broken the magic she used to steal the city. So we raised an army, armed them with weapons that could kill fiends, and lured her into an ambush."
"And you failed," he spat.
"Not exactly," Pariah said. "Lulu was with us. She had come to terms that Zariel wasn't the friend she remembered -- the devil Zariel vs. the angel Zariel I talked about before -- and that this was the best thing we could do for the people who'd been hurt by her. But at the last minute, she insisted we talk to her, that we had to give her the chance to make the right choice. So we met with her and convinced her to abandon her devil nature and return to being an angel."
He snorted. "You just talked her into not being evil anymore?" he said skeptically.
"Well," Pariah admitted, "we also had her sword, which had a shard of her divinity in it. That helped. But she took the sword, she accepted that shard of her own choice. She wanted to be the angel she used to be."
The angel who had stood against Ashmedai during his rebellion, Pariah reminded herself, not the angel who had led the Hellriders into a doomed battle. But that was more detail than Eberic needed right now.
Pariah continued, "She knew she'd be judged by Lathander for her actions, but she went back to Mount Celestia anyhow to face the consequences. It can't have been an easy choice. She wasn't just a devil; she was the ruler of one of the Nine Hells. She had power and position, and she gave that up to do the right thing and save a bunch of mortal souls."
"That she endangered," he retorted.
"True, and I'm not giving her a pass on that. I'm just saying she did make the choice even though it meant sacrificing a lot. And now, yes, she's struggling. But she is genuinely trying to find the right path."
"So she can get back in with the gods," he said.
Pariah nodded. "That's some of it, sure, but she's also trying to understand what it means to be mortal. Trying to do right because it's right, not because there is a reward."
He grunted and puffed on his pipe, though from the lack of smoke it must have gone out. "That kind of evil doesn't go away. I've seen it."
"You've seen it?" Pariah echoed in confusion. "You've seen devil possession or something?"
He glowered at the ground. "No. The black ice."
"Oh," she said, remembering something Culver had said a while ago. "There was some incident at Dwarven Valley, right?" She looked at him expectantly.
"Yes," he said quietly. "When most of Ten-Towns was battling Auril's Chosen during the Sundering, we had our own problems. Marrit and I were still living there. Our son, Ummor was...still with us. He had barely started walking. Baerick Hammerstone brought back a load of black ice from the Spine of the World. The stone corrupted his followers, spreading like a disease in a matter of days. The rest of us tried reasoning with them but they were insane. People I'd known my whole life turned on me, attacked me and my family. Some of these people were close friends, and I killed them to protect my wife and son."
He chewed on his pipe stem. Pariah waited, unsure if he was done or not. After a while, he continued, "When we got control of the valley again, Hammerstone was dead and his surviving followers were imprisoned. The priests tried to cure the madness. Sometimes they succeeded; often they didn't. Even the cured ones were...different. They were paranoid and spiteful, dark copies of their former selves. Some left, going back to the mountains to find more black ice. Others became violent and had to be imprisoned or killed."
He glared at her. "Evil like that doesn't just go away. The black veins run deep and can't be dug out."
She reached out to put a hand on his arm, but he pulled away. She said, "I'm sorry, Eberic. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm afraid of Zariel backsliding too, but what happened to her was different. Yes, she has had some incidents, but most of the time she's a good person just trying to find her way like the rest of us." She looked out over the lake again. "I'm just saying to think about who she's been since you met her. If you want to leave, then I understand. Maybe we can run you over to Termalaine before we revisit the eastern towns. But I hope you'll stay. The rest of us have decided to give her a chance. We are stronger together than we are alone. Just think about it, all right?"
He gave her a noncommittal grunt. "Is that all?" he asked.
Pariah couldn't think of anything that might convince him, so she said reluctantly, "Yes, that's all."
He turned away and she watched him head back to the tavern.
Notes:
The various celebrations of Midsummer and Shieldmeet are from the Forgotten Realms wiki. The story of the black ice in Dwarven Valley is from "Legacy of the Crystal Shard".
Chapter 121: Scars
Summary:
Midsummer arrives and the party finishes up their business in Caer-Konig.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Midsummer, 1496 (15 days after the New Moon)
Pariah was still using Bjarnson's staff to help her walk, though the pain in her hip wasn't as bad this morning. The staff was meant to steady her on the treacherous ground. The layer of frost on the cobblestones wasn't thick, but it was enough to create slick spots so she had to be careful. The pre-dawn morning was dark and stormy, though it was the usual bluster rather than a gathering blizzard.
Even though her magic involved a lot of cold manipulation, she didn't understand ice. It could be slippery but it could also stick to things or freeze your tongue to metal. Her brow furrowed as she studied the frost on the road in front of her and wondered if there was a way to invoke that stickiness to make icy surfaces more stable. Maybe she'd ask Dejen or Bjarnson later if they understood the process.
The speaker's house was ahead on the left. One of the townspeople had come by while they were taking breakfast to say that Trovus wanted to meet with the entire group that morning, though she hadn't known why. There was a small sled by the side of the road with a team of four dogs harnessed to it. Pariah didn't recognize either the sled or the dogs.
Zariel was in the lead and knocked firmly at the weather-beaten front door. It opened to reveal a human man with a bristly mustache and blue eyes that scanned the group. He was one of the locals who had been taking shifts staying with Trovus while he dried out. Pariah tried to remember his name. Andreas? Anders? Something like that.
"Come in, come in," he said before Zariel could speak.
They entered and as they started to remove their cloaks, the man said, "You might want to keep those on. He's keeping the place quite chilly. I'll bring you some hot tea." He headed off towards the door to the kitchen at the back of the room.
Now that he had mentioned it, Pariah realized the air, while warmer than the bitter cold outside, was fairly cool. However, she wasn't bothered by the cold so hung her cloak on a hook. The others kept their outdoor clothing on, though Bjarnson had his cloak open.
The last time they'd been here, the place had looked like it had been robbed, a result of one of Trovus's friends tracking down all his hidden bottles. The main room was now cleaned up and in order. Trovus was sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace where a low flame burned. He looked up at them blearily and gave them a nod. He was panting and his hands were shaking.
There was someone else in the room, a dwarven man dressed in light brown wool. He had strands of amber beads woven through his golden hair. His face was badly wind burned and his right eye was nothing but a knot of old scar tissue. His other eye watched them with bright interest. "So these are the heroes?" he said in a voice with a trace of an accent Pariah couldn't place.
"Yeah," Trovus said hoarsely, closing his eyes. He waved vaguely at his guest. "Haver Shieldbreaker. From Bryn Shander. Asking about the dragon attack."
The dwarf grimaced. "Harvor Breakshield," he corrected the speaker. He nodded curtly at the newcomers. "But he's right about my mission. I've been to Easthaven and Caer-Dineval already, and I'm hoping to bring my report back to Speaker Shane by nightfall today."
"You'll need to visit Good Mead too," Bjarnson said. "And maybe Dougan's Hole."
He shook his head. "Someone else is looking into that, and a third is visiting the western towns. Now, what do you know about this dragon attack?"
Bjarnson said, "Trovus, why don't you come with me into the kitchen so I can look you over. They can tell the story."
The dragonborn made a noncommittal noise and lumbered to his feet. He leaned heavily onto Bjarnson as they headed into the next room. The others settled into the chairs by the fire as the man who was possibly called Anders brought them all hot tea.
They told him a brief version of events since their arrival at Sunblight: the duergar incursion, the coup, their retreat back to the Underdark, and of course the chardalyn dragon forged to conquer Ten-Towns. Zariel was the one who brought up the involvement of Asmodeus, though added that she doubted he had any other schemes in the area at the moment. She did not bring up her own history and neither did anyone else. Pariah didn't see a problem with that -- it wasn't directly relevant to this attack -- but she eyed the others to see if anyone was going to spill the secret. Eberic scowled more than usual during that part of the story but said nothing.
They told him of their first encounter with the dragon in the forge, the destruction in Good Mead and what they had seen of the damage to Dougan's Hole. They talked about their other battles against it in Easthaven, what they had heard about Avarice driving it off from Caer-Dineval, and the final defeat here in Caer-Konig. Pariah realized she had skipped the story of the flaming sword, but again that wouldn't be relevant to the interests of Bryn Shander.
Harvor occasionally asked for more detail but mostly just listened intently to the story. His interest seemed to be how much of a threat, if any, the duergar still posed, and what kind of economic damage had been done to the region. His questions were curt and efficient, bordering on rude but not quite crossing over.
They asked him about what he had found out, since they hadn't had a chance to survey the damage. Early casualty estimates in Easthaven were on the order of a hundred dead and at least twice as many injured. No deaths in Caer-Dineval, though he expressed some concern about the order of Helmites that had taken over the town. Pariah ached to tell him the truth about the power behind the Black Sword, but the geas still held.
When they were done, Harvor stared thoughtfully into the fire that smoldered in the hearth. Finally he said, "I imagine that the speaker would like to hear from you directly. Are you planning to return to Bryn Shander?"
The group exchanged glances. Pariah said, "We haven't thought that far ahead, I guess. We want to revisit the towns that were hit, see if we can help. And we're still looking for ways to stop the Everlasting Rime."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "I see," he said with a hint of condescension. "Well, good luck with that." He stood up. "In the meantime, unless there is anything else, I think I'll take a walk around town to survey the damage myself before heading back to Bryn Shander."
Nobody had anything to say so he excused himself and headed out into the dark morning.
After he closed the door, Pariah said to the rest of the group, "So what is our plan? We've never really nailed that down." She looked over at Eberic and said, "And I guess what I'm really asking is what is your plan? The rest of us have decided to stick together for now."
"Nothing's changed," he snorted. "I'm going home. I can make Dwarven Valley in one day's walk and Termalaine the day after."
Pariah was disappointed. She had hoped he would change his mind. Then again, none of them had anywhere to go in Ten-Towns so it was an easier choice for them to stay together.
Zariel said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, though I understand your caution. Know that I will continue to work towards atoning for my sins and following the path of-"
"Nonsense!" he snapped. "I don't care if it's devils or black ice, the evil takes root and it doesn't go away, no matter how much you want to fool yourself about it."
Trovus stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Your mind was poisoned by the black ice?" he asked Zariel.
"Not exactly," she said carefully. "It was something else. But it made me do some terrible things."
Eberic growled, "It doesn't matter what it was. People don't get over that kind of corruption."
"Yes, we do," Trovus said. "It's not easy, but the urges do eventually going away." He laughed bitterly. "That's one thing that's getting me through drying out; this isn't the worst poison I've had to purge from my body."
Pariah thought back, trying to remember which of Trovus's tall tales had to do with the black ice.
Zariel asked gently, "Is this about what happened to the former speaker?"
He shot her a look of surprise and shame.
"I apologize," she told him. "I have asked around about your history, hoping it would help me understand my own past...mistakes. I have heard a brief summary of what happened to you during the Sundering, and I had wondered if the black ice had been part of it."
The rest of the group looked confused; Pariah realized Zariel must have told nobody but her what she had heard from Eglendar that night.
Trovus leaned heavily against the door frame. "It was," he said. "It..." He struggled to speak.
"Perhaps it is none of our business," Zariel said, "but your experience might help us understand our own."
Eberic shook his head. "No. It doesn't matter. I've seen it. Black ice goes deep. There is no cure."
Trovus looked at him somberly. "I've heard bits and pieces of what happened in Dwarven Valley, not that your people like to talk about it. I've always wondered what the full story is." There was a question in his tone.
Eberic just grunted and crossed his arms.
When it became clear the dwarf wasn't going to say anything, Zariel said to Trovus, "Maybe you could tell us what happened to you, and how you got better."
He stared thoughtfully into the distance. "I used to be part of the militia here, worked my way up to second in command. But I got frustrated with just defending against orc raids or crag cat attacks. I decided we needed a group that would go out and deal with the sources of these problems. Cut them down at the root.
"So I left the militia, and me and some of my friends decided we'd go out and deal with them." He smiled as he remembered. "Jarethil, Diya, Ignasi the Elder -- we were a force to be reckoned with. At first we were just going after mundane threats, but the wilderness is full of ancient secrets and we faced more than a few terrors.
"Then the Sundering happened, though we didn't realize that's what it was at the time. A lot of things were going on, but for the towns on the shore of Lac Dinneshere, the big problem was a pirate ship preying on fishing vessels. Every town accused the other two of being behind the raids, and tensions were running high. We decided to get to the bottom of it."
He blow out a breath that hissed between sharp teeth. "We posed as fishermen and waited for the pirates to find us. Their ship had a black ice ram mounted on the prow and they tried to crack our ship in half. As they smashed into us, we climbed aboard. As soon as I set foot on deck, I felt rage like I'd never felt before. We were outnumbered but we charged in."
Trovus hung his head and his voice grew soft. "Ignasi went down first, pierced by a spear. I had healing potions, but I couldn't stop myself from attacking. Jarethil went overboard. I knew he couldn't swim. He had been afraid when we went out on the water, but we assured him he'd be all right. I ignored his cries for help, blinded by rage. I didn't see Diya die; I found her body later. I killed and killed and killed, until finally just the captain was left. He surrendered, saying he'd tell me everything if I'd let him go. I agreed. He told me-" He broke off and swallowed. "He told me that Alden Lowell, the speaker of Caer-Konig, had been funding them. He had provided the ram of black ice and had directed them to attack all fishing ships other than ones with a special symbol. The whole thing was just a protection scheme."
He raised his hands to hold his head. "I killed the captain anyhow and then set the ship aflame. He had an axe of black ice that I took as a trophy, and then I jumped off the burning ship and swam back to shore. I was still burning with rage. I came back here to confront Alden, but they said he'd run into the wilderness. Somehow he knew I was coming. I chased after him, followed his tracks around the lake. I caught up with him and I murdered him while he begged for his life."
Trovus put his head back and roared, catching them all by surprise. The sound he produced was something between a combat bellow and a wail of agony. Tears fell across the scales of his face. "I was supposed to protect him!" he roared. "He was my responsibility. I promised his father on his death bed that I'd take care of him, keep him safe. But I didn't give him the attention he needed and he grew up to be greedy and lazy and dishonest. When he showed interest in becoming speaker," he thumped his chest, "I was the one who backed him, convinced people to give him a chance. I thought it would make a man of him. I thought he'd step up and do what was right. But he did nothing for this town, just filled his own pockets. And even at the end, all I could feel was hate and anger, and I hacked him with that black axe over and over and over."
He clenched his fists and released a shaky breath. "I buried him out in the middle of nowhere. Buried that foul axe with him. I knew that somehow that black ice was controlling me, controlling my emotions. I left him there in an unmarked grave that even I wouldn't be able to find again."
He hung his head. "I went to Bryn Shander. While trying to convince me not to kill him, he had told me Vaelish Gant was the one who was really behind this. He was behind the pirates and the shakedown. I told Duvessa Shane about it, and she was able to use that information to find evidence and get him sent to Revel's End." He squeezed his eyes shut. "And then I came back here, and that's when I started to drink. I still felt enraged -- at him, at the town, at Gant, at everyone. Drinking cooled my anger and it let me sleep.
He started pounding a fist against the door jamb, not hard but he did it over and over. "Nobody knew what I had done to Alden, but when he didn't reappear after a few weeks, we knew we needed to elect a new speaker. Everyone wanted me to do it, even though I'd become a worthless old sot. There wasn't even another candidate. I don't know, maybe they thought it would sober me up. Doesn't matter. I didn't want to, but I gave in. And since then I've done the best I can, though it's not much.
"After a while, I realized all that anger was gone, all that black hate. I'm not sure when, since my life was just an alcohol-fueled haze, but I was calm again. But that just brought on the guilt. I hadn't regretted what I did at the time, but once the rage left me, I felt nothing but shame." He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember his point. "I had never lost control like when I was on that ship or when I went after Alden. I knew that anger had to have come from the black ice. It's what drove those pirates mad. It's what drove the dwarves mad. It's what drove the Reghedmen mad. The shame? That was all mine, but the hatred and violence, that was the ice. And it faded, and I got better."
Eberic said, "You told us that you are angry now that you've stopped drinking."
Trovus shook his head. "It's not the same. I'm irritated by everything, short tempered, but it's not the burning fury I felt before. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to make up for all my mistakes. For not protecting my friends. For letting the rage control me with Alden. For the countless times I've let Caer-Konig down since I've been speaker."
"I don't think you've let your people down as much as you think you have," Zariel assured him. "I've heard nothing but loving and supportive stories about you from the locals here. They have been concerned about your...lifestyle, but I've never gotten the impression they are unhappy with you."
Trovus made a skeptical noise.
"I agree," Pariah said. "You have nothing but friends in this town."
He hung his head. "I know." And then he looked up at Eberic. "The rage, the evil from that black crystal did fade. I'm sorry things went poorly for those corrupted in Dwarven Valley, but did nobody recover?"
Eberic grimaced, but admitted, "A few. Not many. A handful seemed to shake off the worst of it. But they were changed, even if they weren't malicious like before."
Trovus shrugged. "I'm changed too. Tragedy can do that. But the evil of the black ice doesn't have a hold on me."
Eberic grunted his doubts.
Dejen pulled out his timepiece and glanced at the shadow on its face. "I'm sorry to interrupt this but, Zariel, it's getting close to sunrise."
"Oh," she said as she stood. "Then I must take my leave." She cocked her head. "Speaker Trovus, I'm headed down to the shore to perform the Song of Dawn, a Midsummer ritual for the Morninglord. I would be honored if you would attend." She turned to Anders. "You too, of course."
Trovus considered the idea before saying reluctantly, "I'm afraid not. I'm still pretty under the weather."
"I need to stay with him," the other man said.
"I understand," she said. "I shall pray for you, ask him to bless this new dawn in your life."
"Thank you," he said with a sad smile.
They bundled up and headed out, leaving Trovus and his caretaker behind. There was a hint of a glow on the eastern horizon and they hurried along the street among pools of light from the infrequent lanterns towards the plaza between the Northern Light and the Hook, Line, and Sinker. Haol came out of the building they had been camping in and joined the group.
Pariah was surprised when Zariel kept walking between the line of buildings around the edge of the plaza and out of town. She headed up the slope of a hill by the shore that looked out over the frozen lake. It was a much better view of the surroundings, plus the Reghed Glacier and the sky above it.
Zariel didn't kneel like she usually did when she prayed in the morning. She lowered her hood and stood with her head bowed and her hands folded. Lulu stood on her shoulder in a similar position, and Haol took up a position to Zariel's right. The rest of the group, unsure what to do, formed a ragged line along the peak of the ridge. The wind whipped past them from behind.
After a while, Zariel raised her head and looked out at the horizon. She took a breath and started to sing.
Her voice was soft. The melody was slow and melancholy. Lulu joined the song, singing a simple harmony to Zariel's voice. They sang in Enochian. Pariah strained to understand them. Previously she had sometimes been able to understand foreign languages, something she had suspected was an extension of her ability to read all words, but she could make no sense of what they sang. However, the words were beautiful.
As the sky lightened, Zariel's singing grew stronger, overwhelming Lulu's harmonic tones. The tempo was a little faster and the tone brighter. The melody grew more complex, and Zariel's voice struggled. She didn't have the technical skill of someone who had been singing for years, but she had the passion of a devoted worshiper.
The wind slowed until the air was dead calm, as though the world had stopped to listen to the hymn. The sky was clear with only a few wispy clouds against the icy blue of the dawn. The frozen surface of the lake seemed bright in the dim twilight, and a few fishing boats could be seen in the patches of open water in the distance.
Zariel's voice grew stronger but it started to break, not from strain but from emotion. Tears rolled down her cheeks, freezing against her skin. The glow behind the glacier grew brighter as the sun got higher, never quite able to get high enough to shine upon the land.
And then the sun rose over the horizon.
Pariah's jaw dropped and her heart leapt as the bright speck appeared over the ridge of the glacier.
And then her brow furrowed as the speck broke away and rose into the blue sky. It moved slowly through the air, a shard of white light soaring into the heavens.
"It's Arveiaturace," Bjarnson breathed in wonder.
Once he said that, Pariah could see the shape of the ancient white dragon who lived on the glacier, her wings spread as she ascended. She certainly couldn't have been flying above the distant ice sheet, as that was a good thirty miles off. She must be closer than that, but her white coloring had camouflaged her against the snowy terrain until her scales had shone with the reflected light from behind the wall of ice. It wasn't the sun they were seeing; it was an effigy of the sun.
Was it a sign? Was it a coincidence?
Did it matter which?
No matter what it was, that speck of light along with the beautiful hymn filled Pariah with hope. She wished Trovus had come with them. She wished the entire town was here. She wished all of Ten-Towns could share in the moment.
Maybe it was a message from Lathander, maybe not. She didn't care. It filled her with inspiration. In that moment, she saw a tiny crack in Auril's icy armor. In that moment, she believed they could find a way to stop her, to bring the light back to Icewind Dale.
And nobody, not even the gods, were going to stop them.
Notes:
Pariah talking about the stickiness of ice is my way of describing spider climb. It's something I picked more for RP than utility, though maybe it will prove to be valuable later.
The calming of the wind and Arveiaturace's appearance were both random rolls. I might have done something like that for effect if I'd thought about it, but the dice were on my side.
Chapter 122: Separation
Summary:
The group departs Caer-Konig, headed for Caer-Dineval and the other towns attacked by the dragon.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Midsummer, 1496 (15 days after the New Moon)
Eberic straightened up from strapping his backpack to the back of the sled. Only six dogs -- a quarter of their total pack -- were harnessed to the line, but a full dozen weren't needed for a single passenger.
He looked over at the group, who were still preparing their own sled. Zariel was saddling Haol. Eberic gave them a perfunctory nod. "Well, this is it, then," he said gruffly. He nodded towards the sled and added. "Thanks for this."
"Of course," Bjarnson said. It had been his idea to let Eberic take one of the sleds rather than having him walk home. It would turn a two-day trip into a couple of hours. He continued, "We'll swing by in a few days to pick up the rig."
Eberic nodded again and mounted his sled.
Zariel walked over to him and he stiffened and scowled at her. She didn't seem offended, and said warmly, "I hope you will take this time to reconsider your decision. I imagine you'll tell Marrit about me, and I encourage you to do so. She seems like a wise woman. Maybe she can give you a different perspective. We all want the same thing: to stop Auril. I pray we will be able to count on your help."
He grunted derisively and then flicked the reins. "Hike!" he called out, and the small dog team started up the street.
Pariah watched him go sadly. She had left the Forgotten during their conflict, but had been able to rekindle her friendship with Janshi later. She had insisted Lythienne continue to travel with them after her betrayal, and yet that rift remained unhealed. She understood why he needed to go home for now. She hoped they would find a way past this.
Zariel returned to Haol's side to check his tack, be sure the saddle was secure, and the weight was distributed evenly. She was surrounded by an aura of contentment. After the Song of Dawn, she had been quite emotional. She told them she had felt the touch of Lathander, the closest she had felt to him since her fall. She took that as a sign that they were on the right path, and that she was returning to his good graces.
She didn't think Arveiaturace's appearance had been a sign, and in fact seemed slightly offended when Dejen had suggested the idea. White dragons were minions of evil, servants of Tiamat. Lathander would never use such a creature to inspire his followers.
Still, it had been a moving coincidence.
Pariah said to Bjarnson, "So, did you find anything out?"
"Huh?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
She just nodded in the direction of the hill where Zariel had performed her Song of Dawn. After she had finished, they had come back into town to pack up their belongings for the trip to Caer-Dineval. Bjarnson had stayed behind, saying he was going to commune with nature for a bit and see if he could get his own inspiration.
He followed her gaze and said, "Maybe. I looked for signs, like I've done many times before, but it was different. I felt more in tune with the elements. I felt a sort of presence. It's hard to explain. It was like a great mind but not like a person. Something much larger. It was the mind of...everything." He pursed his lips. "Sorry, that sounds a little crazy."
She grinned. "I have a sword given to me by a god, and Zariel just felt the touch of another. Not to mention all the angels and devils I've come across. Trust me, that doesn't sound crazy. You think it was...oh, what's the name of the nature god...Silvanus?"
He shook his shaggy head. "I doubt it. I don't pray to him. I understand his role in nature, and the roles of the gods like Umberlee and even Auril before she did all this," he waved vaguely around him, though at the moment the weather was dead calm. "But I seek divinity in the natural voices of Earth and Water. This was something else, something older than the gods." He shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. All this god business makes my head spin. But I touched a primal force unlike anything I've experience before. It's like..." He struggled for an analogy. "...like having experienced no water larger than a raindrop, and then coming across a raging ocean."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully. "So did this raging ocean tell you anything?"
He chuckled. "I'm afraid not. I was so intimidated that it broke my reverie. But I think I'll try reaching out again."
Dejen had been listening to the conversation. "I'm feeling quite left out," he joked. "You're all having your moments of divinity, and my biggest achievement in the last couple of days is an idea about enchanting crossbow bolts to entangle opponents."
"Maybe that was the touch of Gond," Pariah joked back. She studied him thoughtfully. "What gods do you worship?" Then, realizing that could be a rude question, she added, "I mean, it's none of my business so feel free to tell me to shut up."
"It's fine," he said with a dismissive wave. "Where I grew up, my people worshiped Waukeen, and I still retain a little rote faith. I know about Gond and some of the other gods. I guess, dagger to my throat, I'd consider Denier my deity of choice, though I'm not particularly devout." He furrowed his brow at her. "You know, your behavior is surprisingly agnostic for someone who's been to Hell and back, and travels with angels."
She laughed. "Oh, for all my bellyaching, I recognize the purpose of the gods, I'm just not one to bend a knee to anyone, and I get frustrated that they won't fix the problems they create. Dagger to my throat, as you put it, I'd pick Tymora as my faith, though I guess I need to be a little nicer to Tempus now." She grimaced. "I suppose I should drop by his temple in Easthaven when we are there."
Zariel hadn't stopped her packing, but she had her head half-turned, listening. Pariah didn't want this to turn into some deep religious discussion, so she said, "Well, we should get going if we want to get to Caer-Dineval before dark."
They finished loading the sled, stopped for brief goodbyes to Allie and Trovus, and then got on the road south to Caer-Dineval.
The trip took less than an hour, which was good because it was an uncomfortable journey. Bjarnson, Pariah and Dejen shared the one sled they had left, which would have been fine if they had no baggage. However sharing the sled with their packs, the tents they probably didn't need anymore since Bjarnson could build shelters out of snow, Dejen's folded-up Netherese construct, and other equipment made everything a little crowded.
Thankfully, the weather remained calm and the sky clear. Pariah sat awkwardly on their pile of goods next to Dejen. She mentioned her idea about using the "stickiness" of cold and ice to improve her footing, and he was fascinated. They discussed magical theory, though she often had to ask him to stop and explain concepts to her. By the time Caer-Dineval appeared in the distance, she was making patches of ice on her fingers that stuck to the railing of the sled like glue.
Bjarnson brought the sled to a stop and beckoned to Zariel who was running behind them. As she came up abreast of him, he said, "Are we headed straight for the castle?"
"No," Pariah said emphatically. She was dreading that visit, even though she was the one who had suggested cultivating Avarice and Levistus as allies. "I want to check with the town first. Let's go see the speaker."
"And Culver," Dejen interjected, looking nervously towards the town. "I want to know that he's all right."
In all the chaos, Pariah had forgotten that Culver's house had been one of the ones destroyed by the dragon. They had been forced to leave before checking on him. "The guard said nobody died," she told him, remembering the militia at the castle. "He's probably fine."
"I suppose, but I want to be sure."
"Let's go to the speaker's house," she suggested. "You and Lulu can go check on Culver." His residence was just down the street from the speaker's. "Me and Zariel can talk to the speaker. Bjarnson you can..." Her brow furrowed. "Hmm."
"What?" Bjarnson asked.
She surreptitiously glanced down a the pile of things she and Dejen were sitting on. She could see the white and yellow struts of the construct, currently collapsed into a box. She wished they had thought to cover it with a blanket, but that wouldn't have mattered. Avarice already knew they had it.
"I was going to say you can go with whichever group you want, but no I think you need to stay with the sled." She looked around for anything that might be a disguised familiar before waving the group closer. They leaned their heads in and she said, "I'm afraid Avarice will come after the construct. I don't think it's much of a weapon, but I still don't want her getting her hands on any Netherese artifacts."
The others pointedly looked down at the folded construct and she grimaced. That was not the way to be secretive. The wizard might be watching them with magic right now.
Bjarnson said, "That's a good point. I'll stay out here. But let's not forget we dropped four dogs off to rest. We need to pick them up before we leave."
"With that in mind, what is next after meeting with the speaker?" Zariel asked.
Pariah sighed in resignation. "Then I suppose we should go to the castle. I'm not sure if we should all meet with her or just me."
"I don't think you should be alone," Zariel warned. Pariah scowled at her, and the woman added, "I'm not saying I don't trust you. I'm just saying the woman is dangerous."
Pariah softened her expression. "Yeah, okay, that's a good point," she admitted. "But frankly it's easier for me to lie to her if the rest of you aren't around."
"Then perhaps just you and I," Zariel suggested. "Did we want to meet with Kadroth as well?"
Pariah considered that. "I don't think so. We're not looking to recruit the whole cult. Plus I figure that exploiting the obvious rift between Avarice and Kadroth will make them trust each other even less. So let's go down to her room and talk to her there." She looked towards the town. She could see people moving among the buildings, though couldn't make out any detail at this distance. "Are we staying the night or continuing to Easthaven?"
Zariel followed her gaze. "I suppose that depends on what we find out. However, if all is well here, then I say we continue our journey."
Nobody had any objection to that so they resumed their travel.
The activity they had seen from a distance was the reconstruction effort. Some of the buildings were being repaired; others were being razed for supplies or possibly just for safety. A few people spared the newcomers glances; fewer still offered nods of greeting.
Some of the workers wore no cold weather clothing but did sport sword-shaped pendants of black crystal. They all offered friendly greetings, with many cries of "Hello, sister," directed towards Pariah. She recognized most of them, but there were a few unfamiliar faces. She didn't know if they were cultists she hadn't seen, or if new recruits were showing up.
"Stop here!" Dejen shouted abruptly.
Bjarnson pulled the team to a halt next to Culver's house. The structure was unsalvageable, but three people were going through the debris and retrieving Culver's collection of books and trinkets. Two were bundled in furs, but the third was a human man with a patchy red beard and a balding head, whose only protection against the cold was his black pendant. Pariah knew she'd seen him in the castle though couldn't remember where.
Dejen clambered down off the luggage he was sitting atop. "Where is Culver?" he asked, desperation in his tone. "Is he all right?"
One of the fur-clad workers -- a large-framed human woman who was wearing snow goggles -- straightened up. "He's fine," she said in a hoarse voice. She pointed down the road, back the way they had come. "He's staying with Valdis." She counted the buildings to herself, her lips moving silently. "Four houses down on the right. We're just getting his junk for him."
"It's not junk," Dejen said, scandalized. "He has gathered a trove of important artifacts and books."
She glanced down at the debris. "Looks like junk to me," she said, though her tone was teasing rather than derisive. "Don't worry. We'll be sure it's all safe."
Dejen dithered, looking between the house she had pointed at and the ruins of the building in front of him. "Yes, well, I need to look in on Culver first. But I'll come back and help recover these relics."
He hurried down the street without looking back. Pariah said to Lulu, who was sitting on one of the packs, "Go after him. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble."
As Lulu flew off, Bjarnson got the team moving again with Haol and Zariel trotting alongside. They came to a halt outside the speaker's house, which was intact. Smoke came from the chimney, which implied someone was home.
They dismounted and Pariah scanned the rooftops and the sky, looking for a raven or a gargoyle. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean Avarice didn't have a spy in the area. Then again, she might not realize they were in town yet.
Their knock was answered by an elderly human man. "May I help you?" he asked in a cultured voice.
Pariah was confused for a moment, wondering if they had gotten the wrong house, but then she recognized him. This was the speaker's assistant, though he looked much healthier and had better color than when she'd last seen him as a prisoner in the castle.
Zariel said, "We are here to see Speaker Siever. We wanted to be sure that the town was safe after the dragon attack?"
His brow furrowed slightly. "Zariel and Pariah, am I correct?"
Zariel replied, "That's right."
He turned and called into the house. "You have visitors, sir. Zariel and Pariah, asking about town safety."
"Let them in," said a voice from inside.
He opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. "Come in, please."
They entered the foyer, which was a simple mudroom with hooks for their furs and a wooden bench along one wall. "Please remove your boots and outerwear," he said politely but firmly.
As they did so, Zariel said, "Forgive me but I can't remember your name."
"You can call me Lanthis."
"Have you been working for the speaker long?"
"Since he first became speaker seventeen years ago. I served the previous speaker, Marjanna Prensen, before that."
Zariel slipped on a pair of fur slippers left for guests; Pariah stayed in her socks. Lanthis looked like he didn't approve of her choice, but he also didn't object as he led them down a hall and into a sitting room.
Siever was slouched in a wing-backed chair, staring morosely into the fire. He looked up as they came in and climbed to his feet with a sad, tired smile. "Greetings," he said, stepping forward with a hand extended. "I'm pleased to see you, since you're some of the few who know the truth behind the people in the caer. Lanthis, fetch our guests some tea."
He shook each of their hands and then, as he turned his chair to face the room, they sat on a narrow sofa set against one wall. Zariel said, "So, how has the town fared since the dragon attack."
Siever put his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. "There has been quite a lot of damage to structures, but no casualties." He added sourly, "I suppose we can thank the people in the castle, though only barely."
"I hear their wizard didn't want to get involved," Pariah said.
"Yes. I berated her for her indifference to our plight, but she said their only obligation was to protect the people, which they were doing. Eventually, though, she petulantly agreed to fight the dragon and, to be fair, she did drive it off quickly." He frowned. "Some man came from Bryn Shander and was asking me about the attack. He said that Easthaven had fared poorly and that the speaker had been killed." There was a question in his tone.
"Yes, that's true," Zariel replied. "We plan to head there next. We met with the same man in Caer-Konig."
"And how did things go there? With the dragon I mean."
"There were a number of deaths," Zariel said sadly, "but we did manage to destroy the dragon so it will not be threatening the area anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear about Caer-Konig," he replied. "The three towns along Lac Dinneshere have had their animosities over the decades, but I wouldn’t have wished this kind of tragedy on either of our rivals. Do you know where that nightmare came from?"
"We do." Zariel gave him a quick overview of the duergar plot. She left out Asmodeus's role; Pariah guessed that was to avoid panicking people any more than they already were. If she had been right about the archdevil, then he wasn't likely to resume scheming in the area for years.
She also told him somberly about the destruction they had seen in Dougan's Hole and Good Mead, particularly the destruction of the greenhouse and the fact the speaker of Good Mead was missing.
He had a few questions but mostly just listened to what she had to say. When she was done, he asked, "And what are your plans now?"
"We are going to visit the affected towns and see what help we can offer," Zariel told him.
"I mean after that." He studied them shrewdly. "Who do you serve?"
Zariel's brow furrowed. "I'm a faithful servant of the Morninglord," she said in a confused tone.
Pariah said, "He's asking who's pulling our strings. Like do we report to Shane or one of the other speakers, or are we after loot and glory."
He raised his eyebrows. "I would have put it a bit more diplomatically, but yes."
Pariah motioned to include Zariel and said, "We originally came here to stop the Everlasting Rime. We're still hoping to do that."
He raised his chin and looked down his nose at her. "Why?"
"Why not?" she said flippantly. She sighed. "Look, we just want to help. We've dealt with powerful immortals like Auril and Levistus before." She broke off. "I can say his name," she said in surprise.
"Yes," he replied, "I've found I can speak freely around people who already know the truth, people like Lanthis. It's only when I talk to other people that I become tongue tied and look like an addled fool."
"Oh, I guess that's right. We've been able to talk about it freely as long as we are alone. It hadn't occurred to me I could talk to the people they'd held prisoner as well. Anyhow, my point is that I don't like the immortals fucking with mortal lives. Zariel wants the sun to rise again so Lathander can share his blessing or something like that. The others all have their own reasons, but we are trying to find a way to stop this."
He didn't seem satisfied with her answer. "I've heard that the Arcane Brotherhood and the Zhentarim have agents in the area." He left that statement hanging in the air.
She frowned in puzzlement. "I don't know what the Zhentarim is. And we're not part of the Arcane Brotherhood." Then she reluctantly added, "But Avarice is one of them and we are kind of working with her."
His face clouded. "That's what I was afraid of," he said grimly.
"Look, we're not with them. We're just kind of on the same side, wanting to stop the Rime. No, I don't trust her or Levistus or the Black Sword, but they are useful allies at the moment. You're a politician. You must have made a few unholy deals in your time." She didn't mean literally 'unholy', but she wasn't so naïve as to think that leaders didn't sometimes get help from unsavory sources.
He still didn't seem happy. "I was rather hoping to hire you to run them out of the caer," he said.
Pariah wanted to tell him that was on her list, but she knew Avarice had spies everywhere. Instead she said, "The Everlasting Rime is the biggest problem in the area right now. That's our focus, and we'll take help where we can get it."
She sighed, "On that subject, we want to stop by the castle before we head out of town. Touch base with Avarice and see if she's figured anything out about how to stop Auril." She turned to Zariel. "How's Dejen doing?"
Zariel replied, "Lulu says Culver has taken ill, but seems to be safe at the moment. Dejen is helping recover his artifacts from the rubble of his home."
"Let's you and me go to the castle and get that over with," she said, groaning internally. She didn't look forward to that meeting.
She stood and the other two followed suit. Siever still seemed unhappy, but he said, "How about if you and your companions join me for lunch before you leave. Lanthis, five more for lunch."
"Four actually," Pariah replied.
"Oh," he said solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that."
It took her a moment to realized what he thought she had meant. "No, no, he's fine," she assured the speaker. "He just lives in Termalaine and went home to see his wife. We're hoping he'll rejoin us in a few days." She wasn't sure how likely that was, but she was trying to remain optimistic.
Zariel said, "But, yes, we would be happy to accept your invitation. We'll come back when our business is done."
Notes:
I think I've covered most of the new abilities they get so here are their level 7 character sheets:
- Pariah Level 7 -- Ethereal Step, spider climb
- Zariel Level 7 -- Aura of the Guardian, lesser restoration, exchange command for wrathful smite
- Dejen Level 7 -- Flash of Genius, web, forgets sleep and takes alarm
- Bjarnson Level 7 -- divination, guardian of nature
- Eberic Level 7 -- +1d6 Sneak Attack, Evasion
Chapter 123: The Devil You Know
Summary:
Pariah and Zariel meet with Avarice to see whether she has discovered anything about how to stop the Everlasting Rime.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Midsummer, 1496 (15 days after the New Moon)
Pariah endured a gauntlet of "Hello, sister" greetings as she and Zariel made their way through the castle grounds to the northwest tower and down to the cistern level. She scowled at the effigy of Levistus in the shrine before knocking on Avarice's door.
"Come!" came a voice from inside.
Pariah steeled herself and then entered the chamber.
The room was as cold as before, both in temperature and in décor. The map of Ten-Towns drawn in chalk on the wall had a few more notes than it had before, particularly around Kelvin's Cairn, where Pariah had claimed they found the Netherese construct.
The raven wasn't in the room, which made Pariah wonder if it was currently spying on the rest of the group.
Avarice was hunched over a book, one hand holding a quill over a sheet of paper. She looked over her shoulder to see who was entering and snarled, "It's about time!" as she turned the paper over and put the quill in the inkpot. She stood up.
Angry words came to Pariah's lips but she kept them to herself. She knew how hostile Avarice was, but it still always caught her by surprise.
Instead she said as calmly as she could, "We destroyed the dragon in Caer-Konig. There was a coup among the duergar while we were at their fort. Sunblight was killed. The coup leader took the surviving duergar back into the Underdark. I doubt they'll be back."
Avarice sneered, "Barely adequate performance."
"Barely adequate?" Pariah snapped, knowing she shouldn't rise to the bait. "We defeated a duergar invasion and destroyed the dragon with hardly any help from you, and I hear the locals had to badger you into doing even that."
Avarice's eyes narrowed. "Our agreement," she said levelly, "was for me to protect the people of the town. I did so."
"The agreement was to protect the town, not just the people. Letting their houses and possessions be destroyed breaks that agreement. You also could have pursued the dragon when it left and stopped it before it devastated Caer-Konig, or even intercepted it in Easthaven, preventing dozens or hundreds of deaths."
"You blame me for that?" the wizard said with a bitter laugh. "You are the ones who wasted time. I told you to come to me immediately, and you squandered a day on a personal errand. Had you arrived at the fortress a day earlier, you could have destroyed the construct before it was launched and saved everyone. If anything is the cause of the deaths, it is your disobedience."
"I'm not your servant!" Pariah barked. "Or his!"
"Regardless," Zariel injected, stepping forward to stand between the two women, "the duergar incursion has been stopped and we can discuss how to approach the problem of the Everlasting Rime." She looked back and forth between them. "Yes?"
Pariah and Avarice glared at each other. Pariah tried to calm herself down, knowing that this bickering wasn't helping anyone. She took a breath and asked, "Did you know Asmodeus was behind this?"
Avarice's frown deepened. After a moment she said, "I had suspected his involvement. He has influenced the duergar before, and it would explain Levistus's interest."
"And you didn't see fit to tell us?"
"To what end? It would have changed nothing."
"We could have been better prepared," Pariah retorted, though even as she said it she knew it was a weak argument. She made a dismissive wave. "Whatever. Zariel's right. Levistus said he'd help stop the Rime. What's the plan?"
Avarice sat on the edge of her desk and studied Pariah. "I believe he said he would consider it. He made no guarantees."
Pariah cursed internally as she tried to remember Levistus's exact words when he had possessed Kadroth. It would be just like him to hint that he might do something, without actually agreeing to anything. She should have known better.
"So you won't help?" she demanded.
"I didn't say that." Avarice watched her carefully. Pariah could see her thoughts turning in her head like the gears in a clockwork mechanism, and guessed she was deciding how much information to share with them.
After a long silence, Avarice said, "There is a legend that a Netherese city crashed in the area some years before Karsus's Folly. The magical secrets in that city could prove to be a powerful tool for any purpose, including stopping the Everlasting Rime. I myself don't care either way about the local climate. I also could find the city myself." She grimaced. "But Levistus is quite insistent that I work with you." She added. "You. Not your companions."
Pariah mirrored her sour expression. "We're a package deal. All of us or none of us."
Avarice grunted derisively. "I suspected as much. Very well. One way you could help me is to give me that Netherese construct you found as well as any other artifacts or books you might have come across."
Pariah didn't even have to think about it. "I think not. We'll let you know if we find out anything you might be interested in." They had found both artifacts and books, but she wasn't willing to share them with this woman at the moment. Besides, it was hard to see how a collapsible pole or bottle of endless coffee would help her find Ythryn.
Avarice fumed at her defiance, but did nothing but mumble something Pariah didn't hear. Some Baatezu profanity no doubt.
However, Pariah did know something. She would have liked to talk to the group about it before revealing it, but there wasn't time. She didn't trust Avarice or Levistus at all, but they could both be valuable sources of information. She and her companions were going to have to at least go through the motions of cooperation.
She sighed and said, "It's possible I was mistaken about where we found that construct, though."
"Oh?" Avarice said suspiciously.
"Yeah." Pariah walked over to the map on the wall and looked it over, only to quickly realize it wouldn't help. It was meant as a way to organize her research by location, not as a navigational aid. "Do you have a better map of the area?"
Avarice drummed her fingernails on the edge of the desk, and then turned to a satchel cover in gray fur. She reached into it and pulled out a scroll far too long to have fit in such a small bag. She rolled it out on the desk. It covered a slightly larger area than their map and had a lot more detail. Features were labeled in several different handwritings and shades of ink.
Pariah bent over the map and tried to remember their trip. She traced a finger from Caer-Konig along the north shore of Lac Dinneshere and then out across the tundra. "Somewhere in this area we found a Netherese tower. It probably broke off the city as it fell. It's been mostly cleared out, though there's some magical chamber at the bottom, which is actually the top because it fell upside down. Anyhow, that's where we found an amulet that led us this way."
She traced another line, but was a lot less sure of the direction. "We found a cave somewhere in here and that's where the construct seems to have run out of power or something. There's nothing there but a bunch of gnoll skeletons, but that's where we found the construct."
"And you didn't tell me this?" Avarice demanded. "Why?"
"Because I don't trust you," Pariah said in a condescending tone. "I have no reason to. I still have no reason to, but I'm making a gesture."
Another muttered curse and then the wizard said, "And how sure are you of these locations?"
"The cave? Not at all. It was roughly in that direction, about a three-hour sled ride. I'm a little more sure about the location of the tower. It looks like this." She picked up the quill and took a sheet of blank paper off the stack on the desk and then did the best she could to draw a sketch of the tower, especially the spur that curved off the side. She wrote rough measurements for the width and height of the piece of the tower that was visible above the ground.
Avarice frowned down at the drawing and then looked at Pariah. "And what possessed you to look for a Netherese tower in the middle of the wilderness?"
"Instinct," Pariah said, not even trying to make the lie believable. There was no way she was going to tell Avarice anything that might lead her to Copper, since her interrogation methods were probably unpleasant. She held Avarice's gaze firmly. "Your gargoyles can probably find the tower faster than we can. But it's going to be hard to find the cave where we found the construct. The hill that contained it had no distinguishing features. We found it because we were following the amulet, which was tracking the construct."
Avarice's expression was furious but she just looked back down at the map. Her finger traced a line from the rough position of the tower to the cave and then beyond, moving towards the Reghed Glacier.
Pariah said, "We thought it might have been heading for the city, that it might be under the glacier."
The wizard sneered at her. "The fact the city is under the glacier is hardly news."
Pariah gritted her teeth. "Well, since the other possibility I've heard was that it sunk into the sea, I figured that still might be useful information."
Avarice shook her head. "Anything else you know?" she asked impatiently.
Pariah might have been willing to go into more detail about their experience in the tower with someone else, or discuss what the group could do to assist her investigations, but she'd had about as much of the woman as she could take. "No."
"Then go," Avarice said with a dismissive wave as she turned her back on them. "When I find out something useful, I'll let you know to come back."
"And we'll respond to your invitation when we damn well feel like it," Pariah snapped. To Zariel she added, "Let's go."
She put her hand on the door handle and Avarice asked, "What happened to the rest of the chardalyn from the dragon?"
Pariah didn't even try to keep the smugness out of her voice as she said, "It's gone, scattered into the Astral Plane as I understand it. Good luck finding it."
They exited her chamber and the shrine outside. Pariah stopped at the base of the ladder leading up and looked out into the darkness over the cistern, taking in a deep breath and releasing it as she tried to relax. Zariel was watching her with a carefully neutral expression. "What?" Pariah asked.
Zariel glanced towards the shrine and then back at her. "Nothing I wish to discuss in our current location."
Pariah made a noncommittal noise and then started up the ladder. They exited the tower, made their way through the courtyard, and out the main gate. There was nobody left in the caer they wanted to check up on since everyone other than the cult should be in town.
About halfway between the castle and The Uphill Climb tavern, Pariah turned off the road and walked to the edge of the steep slope down to the iced-over inlet. The wind was picking up a little but it was still gentle. She let her cloak hang loose so she could feel the cold and let it soothe her anger. Zariel stood beside her quietly.
After a while, Zariel said, "Do you think it was wise to share the location of the Netherese tower with her?"
"I don't know," Pariah admitted. "It was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I wish I'd talked it over with the rest of you first, but I saw my chance. It seemed like a gesture of trust." She frowned. "Not that she's someone who trusts anyone. I don't know. Either way, she knows more about Netheril than we do, so maybe she'll find more there than we did. Why? Do you think I did wrong?"
Zariel shrugged. "I don't know. I just hadn't expected it."
"Yeah, me either," Pariah sighed. "I think we already got everything useful out of the tower." She frowned in thought. "I didn't tell her about that other wizard." She tried to think of his name. "Dzaan? Well, the copy of him anyhow. She'll just find a big pool of yuck with an undead corpse in the middle of it. She might even think it was that necromancer. What was her name?"
"Vellynne," Zariel replied.
"Yeah, that's right. I wonder where she's been all this time. And that fourth one. We've never heard anything about her." Then, wanting to change the subject, she said, "So how bad an idea is it to get in bed with Levistus?"
The question was mostly rhetorical because the group had already talked about it, but she was also curious about Zariel's personal take, considering her history. The woman said carefully, "It's not an ideal choice."
Pariah laughed bitterly. "True."
Zariel continued, "But we don't have a lot of options. I will, of course, continue to pray for guidance and hope Lathander will show us the way."
"I won't hold my breath," Pariah replied scornfully.
Zariel put her hands behind her back as she also looked out over the frozen lake. "Levistus does have a sense of honor. You might even call it fair play. He can be an ally if you follow his rules, it's just not always clear what his rules are. He has schemes within schemes. I think we agree that he doesn't care about ending the Everlasting Rime other than possibly as a step towards something nefarious."
"But we have no idea what that something nefarious is," Pariah sighed.
"No, though I suspect the mythallar in Ythryn is important to him."
"Is it?" Pariah asked in surprise. "Why would he care about something like that?"
"There was a certain...concern in the Upper Planes when the mortals started dabbling with forces as potent as the mythallars. Mortals have a habit of being a bit reckless with power, and occasionally create cross-planar crises. I didn't pay much attention since magic wasn't really my area of interest, but I know a number of powerful beings were quite relieved when Mystra put limitations on mortal use of the Weave."
Pariah was still confused. "He's an archdevil. He has plenty of power on his own. Why would he need a mythallar?"
Zariel was silent for a while before saying, "The source of power influences its utility. Levistus, indeed any of the Outer Planes beings, are weaker here than they are in their home planes. That is why immortals work through mortal champions who can tap into the native power of the Material Plane. Access to something like a mythallar would be an enormous resource for his schemes here, but only through a mortal servant."
"Like Avarice," Pariah said, nodding thoughtfully. "What about his schemes in Hell? Asmodeus imprisoned him in some kind of tower, right? Could he want the mythallar to break out?"
"No," Zariel said with confidence. "Again, the source affects its strength. A mythallar would be less powerful in Stygia than it is here. And Asmodeus's power is unmatched in the Nine Hells. Even other deities would have difficulty against him in his home territory. No, whatever plans he has would take place here. Not necessarily Icewind Dale, but somewhere in the mortal realm."
"Do you have any idea what those plans could be?"
Zariel shook her head. "I imagine it's the usual: control, influence, acquiring souls. But I have no idea what his specific goals are."
"Do you think we could use the mythallar to stop the Everlasting Rime?" Pariah asked.
"Perhaps," she replied cautiously. "But such power is dangerous and hard to control. I'm concerned it could do more harm than good regardless of our intention. And, of course, power can corrupt its wielder."
Pariah blew out a foggy breath. "Maybe Dejen could figure it out. He seems to have a good grasp of magical theory, and doesn't seem the corruptible type."
"I suppose," Zariel said.
Pariah's brow furrowed. "You don't agree?"
Zariel crossed her arms. "We've seen the fractures start in our group. I don't know how much longer we will travel together. We've already lost one."
"We don't know that," Pariah insisted. "Eberic just needed some time away from us to think about things."
Like Lythienne, she reminded herself. And she was still waiting for that wound to heal.
Zariel continued, "I wonder if it might be best for me to leave."
"No," Pariah responded emphatically. "Give them some time and they'll get used to it. They'll see who you really are."
Zariel looked down at her. "Honestly, I'm not sure who I really am. Even I am not sure I can be trusted."
"Well, I'm going to trust you anyhow," Pariah said sharply. Then, surprised by the emotion in her tone, she made a dismissive wave. "Sorry, I just don't believe in turning on people for what they might do. You've made some mistakes -- the mortal you I mean. Well, so have I. So have all of us. We're stronger together than we are apart, so I'm going to keep arguing that we need to stay together."
"You have a lot of faith in people," Zariel said with a smile.
"Not really," Pariah said with a bitter laugh. "But I figure I'd rather risk getting stabbed in the back then to never trust anyone ever. Look, we get along. We work together well. They'll get past this."
"Perhaps," Zariel said without a lot of confidence.
They resumed staring out over the lake in silence, until Pariah said, "I don't really see any reason to stay in town. Do you?"
"I suppose not."
"So let's take Siever up on his lunch invitation and then head to Easthaven." She looked towards the southern horizon, which still glowed with the light of the hidden sun. "I guess we won't make it before sundown," she said gloomily. The twenty hours of darkness per day were starting to wear on her. She had complained about the constant light and heat in Avernus, and she wondered if some god up there had said, "Ha, be careful what you wish for," before sending her to the land of eternal winter's night.
Well, probably not, but she still felt sour as she and Zariel started down the road towards the speaker's house.
Notes:
I'm weaving the mythallar quest into the main story rather than having it be unrelated. I'm still not 100% sure what I'm doing with it, but I'm planting the seeds.
The thing about power in one plane being weaker in another is my own creation, but fits the idea of Outer Planes beings working through mortals.
Chapter 124: One in Seven
Summary:
The party returns to Easthaven to see how the town has fared since the dragon attack.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Midsummer, 1496 (15 days after the New Moon)
They arrived at Easthaven well after sunset. The damaged ballista still stood across the road from the sign welcoming travelers to Easthaven. A single bundled-up guard stood sentry, using the wreckage to shield a campfire from the light wind blowing down the road. He, or possibly she, watched them arrive but didn't motion for their sled to stop so Bjarnson continued past. They hadn't seen a guard patrol on the way in, which might mean the militia was short-handed, or they might have just traveled the Eastway during the lull between patrols.
Some of the damaged buildings they passed showed signs of repairs but many of them looked the same as they had the day of the attack. Many of the pole-mounted lanterns that lined the main street had been damaged in the attack, so the path before them was lit intermittently. Bjarnson guided the dogs between pools of light, turning off towards the kennel.
There were no dogs in the kennel yard but barking came from the stable building that had been converted to house the dogs. A separate corral held two axe beaks that ignored the travelers. Light shone from the gaps in the shutters of the attached house. Bjarnson went up to knock on the door while the others dismounted and stretched.
The kennel master, an older dwarven man, came out and he and Bjarnson talked while the others started to unload the sled. The man went back inside and Bjarnson started back towards the group.
"I'm going to stay for a bit," he told them. "He lost his assistant in the attack so he's a little overwhelmed. I'll help get our team settled and join the rest of you later. He said The White Lady didn't get hit, so how about if the rest of you go ahead and get our rooms. I won't be long."
"I'll stay with you," Lulu said to him from her perch on the backpacks. "So we can keep in touch."
"That makes sense," he nodded as Lulu flew over to stand on Haol's saddle now that Zariel had dismounted.
The rest of them gathered up their packs and started walking back towards the main road. Pariah looked in the direction of Rurden's armory but couldn't see anything from here. She wondered if they'd started rebuilding it yet, or if it was even salvageable. Would they have to build a new forge from scratch?
"That investigator from Bryn Shander said a hundred people died here," she mused as she looked at the damaged buildings around her. "I wonder what the total population is."
She had meant that rhetorically, though she figured she'd ask Bjarnson later, but Dejen responded, "I believe seven or eight hundred. It's the third largest town, with Targos being second and Bryn Shander first."
One in seven, she thought to herself. She couldn’t even calculate how many deaths that would be in a city as large as Baldur's Gate. She tried to envision all the people she'd ever known and try to imagine how it would feel to lose one in seven.
They reached Lakeside, the road that ran along the shore of Lac Dinneshere. They could see the White Lady about five hundred feet down the road, and were relieved to see that the building was intact, and smoke came from its chimney.
The familiar dull clank of the bent bell greeted them as they opened the door into the reception area. Bartaban, the old man with the bent nose and messy white hair, sat at the desk. He looked up from a book and said in a bored tone, "Welcome to the White Lady. How many rooms?"
"Three," Pariah said. And then, remembering they were one person short, said unhappily, "No, two."
He reached under the counter to fetch two keys, which he put on the surface. "Four dragons. Got stew and mead. Stew's included. Mead's two shards. Water's free; serve yourself out of the barrel."
The mead was twice the price it had been in their last visit, so the news about the greenhouse must have gotten out. They paid for their rooms and took their keys. As the others headed down the hall, Pariah looked into the empty dining room, searching for the halfling entertainer. "Is Rinaldo around?"
"No," the proprietor said, returning to his book. "He'll probably be back around supper."
She debated asking Bartaban about the latest news, but she'd had enough surly people for one day so headed for her room.
As she dropped her pack on the bed, she said to Zariel, "I guess we never really came up with a plan. Since the speaker's dead, maybe go see the militia captain to find out how the town is doing?"
Zariel nodded thoughtfully. "There may be an interim speaker we could consult, but Captain Arlaggath would be a good start."
"We should also buy new blankets and bedrolls since we left ours in Good Mead." She furrowed her brow as she tried to remember something. "Was there a general store here?" She was starting to get the towns confused with each other.
Zariel shrugged. "I don't remember one. We can ask. I don't know how badly the market square was damaged in the battle, so I don't know if there will be any stalls operating there. If I recall, Torg's is in Termalaine right now, not that they would be willing to sell to us anyhow."
Pariah remembered the loot they had gotten from Sunblight. They had been mostly luxury items, probably not worth much to people worried about housing and food. She said, "We might have better luck in Bryn Shander. We are heading there at some point, right?"
"I believe so. I'm unsure."
She sounded like Pariah felt: listless and uncertain. The shock of what had happened still hung over them, and it must be orders of magnitude worse for the locals. The situation had been brutal in Caer-Konig and she doubted it was going to be much better here.
One in seven.
Dejen was standing in the doorway listening to the conversation. Pariah asked the both of them, "Head for the town hall or the barracks?"
"The town hall is closer," Zariel said. "We can start there."
"Bjarnson still working with the dogs?"
"Yes," Zariel said slowly. "The kennel master is also venting some of his grief, so he may be a while."
"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," Pariah sighed. "No hurry. He'll catch up with us when he can. Shall we?"
They headed back outside; Bartaban ignored them. They started walking along the lakeside road towards the turnoff to the town plaza. The wind was still low, though occasional strong gusts tugged at their cloaks. Lights could be seen out over the lake, the lanterns of fishing boats plying their trade where there was open water. Life went on whether people wanted it to or not.
Roughly a dozen piers stretched out over the ice, ranging from short personal ones to the longest one that had been used by the ferry. All of them had been warped by the pressure of the ice over the last two years; three showed additional damage from the dragon attack. Only one boat seemed to have been hit by the dragon. The ferry was still iced in and unusable, but appeared to have not suffered damage in the attack.
Pariah found herself wondering if Bjarnson, as he gained more control over natural forces, could do something about the ice that had crippled lake travel. For that matter, she wondered if her fiery sword could cut a path through the ice and, if so, how long it would take to freeze up again.
That in turn reminded her of another errand. Sourly she said, "I suppose we should visit the Temple of Tempus while we're here."
Zariel replied, "I was going to suggest that."
Of course you were, Pariah sighed to herself, though she knew she was being unfair. Tempus had been helpful. She should show a little gratitude, just like a beggar should be grateful for every copper coin, even if it came from someone who could spare more.
The ballista still stood in the plaza in front of the three-story town hall building, though it currently had no operator. Zariel led the way through the unguarded door into the town hall's reception area.
The room was wide and deep, one of the largest spaces they'd found in Ten-Towns, with a ceiling two stories over their heads. A split stairway at the back of the room led to doors on the upper floor. Large oil paintings depicting scenes from the town's history dominated most of the walls, and a huge knucklehead was mounted across from the door that Pariah knew led to the speaker's office. A woman with black-and-white streaked hair was sitting behind the reception desk and eyed them curiously as they entered.
Zariel approached her and said, "We would like to meet with whoever is in charge of the town at the moment. We know the speaker was lost in the attack. Has someone else been appointed?"
The receptionist glanced towards the door to the speaker's office and said hesitantly, "Well, Renzo Betel is acting as interim speaker until a new election can be held. May I ask what your business is?"
"We are visiting the towns that were attacked, trying to see what kind of help is needed."
The woman looked puzzled. "Are you from Bryn Shander?"
Zariel was equally puzzled for a moment, but then understanding dawned. "No, but we have met the gentleman you are probably thinking of. We are..." She hesitated, looking back at her companions for inspiration. "...interested parties? We are here to offer what assistance we can."
Recognition finally dawned on the receptionist's face. "Oh, I remember you all now." She glanced at the door to the speaker's office again. "Renzo is awfully busy right now," she said hesitantly.
"We had considered talking to Captain Arlaggath as well. Perhaps we should start with her?"
"Yes, that might be best," the receptionist said with relief. "She can probably fill you in and bring any concerns to the speaker. She'll be at the barracks. Do you know where that is?"
"We do," Zariel assured her. "Thank you. We'll speak with her."
They headed back out into the plaza, and Pariah asked, "What was that all about? She seemed nervous or something."
Dejen said, "At a guess, the interim speaker is overwhelmed and doesn't have time to talk to every random person who walks by."
"That makes sense, I guess," Pariah said. "It didn't feel like she was hiding anything, but she was being pretty sketchy. I can see how everyone with a gripe is probably pounding on the speaker's door looking for a magic solution."
"Captain Arlaggath knows us," Zariel said, "so would be more likely to be forthcoming with information."
They made their way through the street towards the barracks, passing patches of ruin among intact buildings. There was no rhyme or reason, just random destruction. Some people worked by lamplight to make what repairs they could. The nearby forest meant many buildings were made of wood rather than stone, which made them more fragile against dragon attack but also easier to repair.
They passed countless doors that bore bundles of sticks stained black and twisted into crude wreaths as signs of mourning.
Dejen said gloomily, "I should have checked in on the librarian. Seen if he survived."
Pariah remembered him, the pipe-smoking half-elven man who oversaw the small collection of books on the top floor of the town hall. She also remembered the dwarven couple who ran Skin & Bones, the tiefling ferry captain, the one-legged half-orc who had been at the séance, the human guard who had been eating a chicken leg the first time they had been to the barracks, and countless more. A parade of faces, most of them without names, wandered through her memory.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the sturdy stone barracks. Pariah was surprised to see there wasn't a ballista here, but realized the streets were too narrow. There would have been no place to put it. She wondered where the weapons were kept between dragon attacks.
The first room inside the door was a mudroom. A single soldier was leaning back against the wall. It wasn't the chicken-eating human man; it was a dwarven woman with red hair. She wore dark leather armor and a ring with a purple stone. Her left arm was in a sling and she had a wound across her jaw that looked about two days old. Her face was slack with exhaustion.
"Yeah?" she asked without enthusiasm.
Zariel took the lead. "We'd like to see Captain Arlaggath. Is she available?"
"What about?" the guard asked.
"We are evaluating the damage from the dragon attack and seeing if we can be of help to the attacked towns." She added, "The captain knows us"
The guard cocked her head slightly and then jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Last door on the left."
Zariel led the way down the hall. Captain Arlaggath was sitting at her desk, her back to the door, her usual cup of coffee in her hand. Pariah wondered where the coffee came from, but guessed it was either grown by the dwarves in some secret underground chamber, or shipped in at great expense through Revel's End.
The captain looked over her shoulder at the newcomers and then her eyebrows went up and she gave them a weak smile. "Hello," she said, standing with a wince and turning to face them. "Glad you came back. Rumor is you finally beat that thing."
"We did what we could," Zariel said, "though we had a lot of assistance, including from your militia."
Arlaggath grunted and sat on the edge of her desk. "I'm not sure we did much, but thanks anyhow. What brings you back?"
"At the moment, we are making our way through the affected towns, surveying the damage, seeing how we can help."
"We need lots of help," the captain said unhappily, "but I'm not sure it's the kind of work you do. Lots of cleanup. Lots of need for carpenters and bricklayers." She sighed, "And undertakers."
"Yes, we'd heard the casualty count was quite high."
She nodded. "Nearly half came from the militia, and I have had a dozen soldiers quit since the attack. I have scouts ranging out because I'm worried the orcs or the Reghedmen might take advantage of this and attack."
"Any specific threats you know of?" Zariel asked.
"Nothing in particular, just being cautious."
"Any other problems in town?"
Arlaggath chuckled bitterly. "Many. People are demanding we restore the old lottery since they think the dragon was sent by Auril after we'd made it voluntary. Others claim Caer-Dineval was behind the attack since rumor is that they suffered no damage. They think we should go to war with them. Speaker Atteberry could have calmed them down, but Betel has his hands full just keeping everything running." She rubbed her face tiredly. "We need to get a new speaker elected, probably before the next lottery draw, and there aren't any strong candidates right now. I don't envy the person who gets that job. Plus apparently the mead supply is going to dry up, and nobody wants to face the Everlasting Rime sober. But I don't think any of that is anything you can help with."
Zariel's brow furrowed. "But we know the duergar, not Auril, were behind the attack."
The captain shrugged and winced slightly. "I've told people that, but nobody wants to ruin juicy gossip with facts."
Zariel looked at her with concern. "I could help with the wounded, as could one of my companions. On that subject, how is your injury?"
Arlaggath reflexively put a hand on her abdomen. "Aches a bit, but it's better. The poultice helped draw out the infection so now I'm just waiting for the flesh to heal. And if you want to help with the wounded, there's a makeshift hospital in the Temple of Tempus."
"We were planning to head there next," Zariel replied. "We'll ask Stalwart Rohl if he needs our assistance. I believe we may be leaving in the morning." She gave an inquisitive glance at the other two. Pariah shrugged, since she didn't have an opinion. Zariel continued, "We'll be at the White Lady until then if you should have need of us."
"Appreciated," the captain replied. "I can't remember if I got around to saying it at the time, but thank you for your help against the dragon. Things would have been a lot worse if you hadn't shown up."
"It was our privilege to help," Zariel assured her.
They said their goodbyes and then headed back out into the cold afternoon. After they'd walked past a few buildings, Zariel said, "Bjarnson is wrapping up at the kennel. He will join us at the temple when he can."
They traveled in silence until Dejen said, "Maybe we should stay for a few days and help out like we did in Caer-Konig."
"I had been wondering the same thing," Zariel said. "Unfortunately, as Captain Arlaggath said, our skills are not the ones needed right now. I have a strong back if needed, but I'm best suited for fighting enemies."
Pariah added, "This is a big town. They have lots of help. I think we can do more in the smaller towns like Good Mead, at least until we have an idea of what to do next."
"That's true, I suppose," Dejen said.
The stone temple looked more like a barracks than the actual barracks, though its trapezoidal design was jarring when compared to the blocky buildings around it. "Does that shape have anything to do with Tempus?" she asked as they neared the entrance. "Or the purple glass in the windows?"
She wasn't sure she expected an answer; she had just been thinking out loud. Zariel, who had been lost in thought, looked up at the building and replied, "I don't believe so. The sloped walls might give strength against siege engine attacks, but I suspect it was more of the aesthetic choice of the architect."
Dejen said, "I think you're right that it was aesthetic rather than practical. The original temple was made of wood and destroyed a couple hundred years ago. It was rebuilt to the same design, but of stone this time."
They went up the steps to the wooden double doors. Zariel led the way inside. Pariah paused to look at the flaming sword carved into the surface of the door before following the other two inside.
The spacious interior was lit by six large torches along the walls and a burning brazier underneath the statue of Tempus at the other end. He stood on the backs of a pair of charging horses, holding his flaming sword before him. The statue stood three times the height of a tall man, and was much more intimidating than the one in Good Mead. A small altar to Gond stood to one side.
There were about a dozen cots set up under the statue, all occupied. Two human women were at one of the beds, one with wind-burned skin and red hair, who was supporting a male half-orc in a sitting position while the other woman, who was small with bushy black eyebrows and silver-rimmed glasses, helped him drink something out of a metal cup. At another bed, a middle-aged armored human man with a receding hairline was sitting on the edge, talking to a dwarven man who was lying down. The former was the priest Rohl.
Pariah started to follow Zariel as she headed that way, but Dejen grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. "Here! It's here!" he said with excitement.
She let him pull her along, though she was confused. He brought her to a bronze plaque mounted under the middle of the three torches on the left side of the room. It depicted a flaming sword over the words "Wrath of Tempus". Below that, in smaller print, was a brief description of what Dejen had already told her about the sword's history, including being thrown into the Redwaters.
The picture looked very little like the sword she had pulled out of the frozen lake, and nothing at all like the different shape that now hung at her hip, but this probably hadn't been inscribed from life. Tempus's actual sword probably didn't look like the one wielded by the statue in the temple either.
"You're a part of the legend now," he said proudly.
She snorted, a little embarrassed by the attention. "They need to update this," she said with a nod to the plaque. "The sword was recovered by a scruffy tiefling who will probably pawn it when she's done with it."
Dejen looked shocked. "You wouldn't actually-"
"No," she sighed. "I'm kidding."
Though it would probably fetch a pretty copper nib or two.
She didn't know why she felt so negative about it. She had demanded action from the gods and had gotten action. She had passed his little test of bravery or determination or faith or whatever, and the sword had been instrumental in defeating a huge threat to Ten-Towns. So what was she so prickly about?
As the question formed in her head, so did the answer: she didn't know the price he was going to ask for his help.
Fucking-
"Let me see it," demanded a man's voice from behind her, and she jumped in surprise.
She turned to see the priest holding his hand out, Zariel standing behind him. Pariah grimaced at his imperious tone and was tempted to tell him where he could shove the sword, but then she reminded herself she was trying to be a little deferential to Tempus, and that included his aggressive, judgmental priest. Reluctantly she drew the sword and handed it to him.
He inspected it like he had her previous weapon. "Nice workmanship," he admitted as he sighted down the edge of the blade. He swung it a few times. "Nice balance." He looked at the image on the plaque and then back at the sword. "This doesn't look much like a weapon of Tempus," he said suspiciously.
"It looked different when I pulled it out of the water," she said. "I was thinking that I don't like weapons that heavy, and it changed into that."
He grunted skeptically and resumed his examination. Finally, he held the sword out before him dramatically and mumbled something Pariah didn't hear.
Nothing happened.
Pariah could feel his disappointment, and couldn't help smirking a bit.
Rohl handed it back to her. "Show me," he demanded.
She took the sword from him and again her rebellious nature surged, but she held the weapon out. Flames erupted along the edge and burned fiercely. On impulse, she sent her icy magic into the blade and the heat and cold combined into the searing blue fire she'd seen before.
His eyebrows raised. "Impressive," he said. "It seems that Tempus has found a fine warrior to wield his power. Come."
He turned and walked towards the statue. Pariah paused, not having expected a compliment. Zariel silently jerked her head towards him, urging Pariah to follow. She sheathed the sword and walked after him.
Rohl stopped in front of the brazier at the foot of the statue and turned to face her. "Stand here," he said, pointing in front of him. "Draw your weapon."
He wore an axe on his back and he drew it. She did the same, wondering if they were going to spar, but he raised his axe over his head, holding it parallel to the ground. He nodded towards her weapon and she did the same, igniting the flame along the blade.
"Tempus has blessed you with his favor," he said resolutely, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You must swear to follow his tenets. Repeat after me"
Pariah frowned, wondering what she was about to get herself into. The last time she had sworn an oath to an immortal, it hadn't gone well.
"Be fearless!" he bellowed.
Well, that didn't seem so bad. "Be fearless," she repeated with less enthusiasm than he had shown.
"Louder!" he commanded. "Let him hear you all the way in Warrior's Rest. Be fearless!"
"Be fearless!" she shouted.
"Never turn away from a fight!" he roared.
She wasn't sure she agreed with that. Sometimes running away was the best choice, but this probably wasn't the time to get into philosophical debates. "Never turn away from a fight!" she yelled.
"Obey the rules of war!" he cried.
She hadn't realized war had rules, much less what they were, but that didn't seem like such a bad thing to agree to. "Obey the rules of war!" she called out.
He lowered his axe, resting the flat of the blade on top of her head. "Go forth, warrior, and bring glory to his name!" In a quieter voice he said, "Say 'Glory to Tempus'."
Pariah was trying hard not to roll her eyes. She said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, "Glory to Tempus!"
Rohl sheathed his weapon and nodded for her to do the same. After she did, he gripped her right forearm with both hands. "Welcome to the order, warrior!" he said with a fierce grin.
Notes:
The one in seven casualty figure for Easthaven is much lower than the module's estimate of one in three. I figured that the PCs driving off the dragon would have cut the casualties in half.
I realized in this chapter that I have been describing the Easthaven town hall as two stories from the outside and three stories from the inside. Three stories is correct, and I may get around to going back to find and correct the inaccurate two-story descriptions someday.
Tempus's rules are from the 4th edition Forgotten Realms Player's Guide.
Chapter 125: The Isolation of Dougan's Hole
Summary:
As they continue their tour of damaged towns, the party decides to see if the residents of the mysterious hamlet of Dougan's Hole need assistance.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Midsummer, 1496 (15 days after the New Moon)
Zariel offered to help with the wounded at the temple but Rohl had the situation under control. They asked him where they could get bedrolls and blankets and he told them Osgar's Gear was located south of the market square, but it had been damaged in the attack and hadn't reopened yet. He also confirmed what they had suspected: the town was still cleaning up the market plaza and none of the stalls were open. Commerce was at a standstill at the moment.
With nothing else to do, they walked around town, surveying the damage and visiting the places they'd been before. Bjarnson and Lulu joined them.
Many of the people they remembered had survived the attack: Rurden the armorer, Raum the librarian, Scython the ferryman.
Others had not. Thunum the leatherworker had been killed running from the dragon. He had fallen when his cane slipped on the ice, and he had been torn apart while his husband, Dashad, watched helplessly. Pariah remembered that he had made Bjarnson's cloak of crag cat fur, and the armor she was now wearing after her previous set was destroyed by the explosion of the Summer Star.
Eventually the cold and the sadness had started to get to them so they returned to the White Lady for supper.
A pall hung over the dining room as they ate bowls of stew in silence. They were the only guests at the moment. They were drinking water rather than mead. Pariah wanted a little alcohol but she was concerned about the dwindling supply and decided to forgo it this evening. Rinaldo was there and he had played music for a while, but didn't seem able to find the right tone. Everything he played was either too happy or too sad, so eventually he let the music peter out.
"My friends," he said in a friendly but somber tone, "I think I shall retire early this evening, unless there is something I can do to raise your spirits."
Pariah couldn't think of anything. Besides, he was certainly grieving more than they were. He shouldn't be worrying about their mood.
Dejen asked, "Are you going to be doing a séance tonight?"
Rinaldo smiled sadly. "I think not. I have had requests, but I fear there might be too many restless spirits yearning to be heard. Maybe in a few days, when some of them have moved on."
Pariah studied him. "You can really do it, can't you?" She waved towards the back room where he put on his performances. "I mean there's a lot of showmanship there, but once you strip that away, you really can summon the spirits of the dead."
"From time to time," he said. "The White Lady was the one who came most consistently, I don't know why. And, well," he shrugged, "a man has to make a living, so I added a little theater."
"Why don't you do it more often? You could work as a medium."
"I'm more of a small," the halfling said with an impish grin.
Pariah gave a polite groan at the bad joke and his grin widened.
"But seriously," he continued, "I have tried that, and it wasn't for me. People want to know their loved ones are happy in the afterlife, but the ones I can reach are not. The happy ones are the ones who moved on. The ones I can summon are trapped here by chains of misery, unfinished business, unrequited love, unrealized revenge. They are sad or angry and, as you have seen, can be quite dangerous. The White Lady was entertaining most of the time." He frowned and added sternly to Pariah, "When people follow her rules."
Zariel pursed her lips. "And it doesn't bother you to compel the dead to come for your entertainment?"
Rinaldo looked stunned. "Compel? I can't compel anyone. I invite, that's all. The spirits come because they want to." Sadly he said, "I think many of them are just lonely. Like I said: sad or angry."
Dejen asked, "Do you think you'll do it again?"
Rinaldo looked towards the back room. "Perhaps, but not for a while."
"Maybe you'll have resumed the next time we are in town."
"We shall see." He looked back at the table. "Well, I think I shall be off. Will you be here tomorrow night?"
They exchanged glances and Pariah said, "No, I think we'll probably move on in the morning."
"In that case, I wish you a safe journey and a good night." He tipped an imaginary hat and headed for the lobby to put on his coat.
Pariah leaned over towards Zariel and Lulu and asked in a quiet voice, not wanting Rinaldo to hear. "Are there restless spirits around?"
Zariel looked towards Lulu, and the asteri thought about it. "Not exactly. There is sort of a disturbance in the air, like ripples in water, that wasn't there before. There was in Caer-Konig too. I think maybe they're trapped in the space between. They're not here but they haven't moved on either." She shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's not really something I know much about."
"And you don't know if they'll eventually go where they're supposed to?"
Lulu shrugged again and looked at Zariel, who said, "I'm not sure either." Reluctantly she added, "I have to admit I've never looked into the fate of mortal souls."
Rinaldo waved at them one more time before he exited the inn. Pariah nodded at him before saying gloomily to her companions, "I wish we could do something. I mean I'm glad we killed the monster, but there is so much they need that we can't do." She remembered what Captain Arlaggath had said: they needed carpenters and undertakers, not adventurers.
Bjarnson said, "Maybe we can be of more help in Good Mead. That's where we are headed tomorrow, right?"
There was a general mumble of agreement. Pariah added, "We should stop in Dougan's Hole on the way."
Bjarnson pursed his lips. "I guess," he said reluctantly. "But we should be careful. If anything is still alive there, I'm not sure it's friendly to outsiders."
"We've faced worse," Pariah said, finishing her water. "Well, I think I'm going to go read a while before going to sleep."
Shieldmeet, 1496 (Full Moon)
There was no reason to linger so they headed out early the following morning. The aurora had faded and the full moon had set so it was dark, but the wind was low and they had their own light sources as their single dog team ran down the Eastway towards the crossroads, with Haol keeping pace alongside.
Dejen dozed during the trip, sitting on his pack with his back against the railing. He had been up late trying to fix the lantern from the Northern Light. He had managed to bend the body back into shape, though the glass globe had been shattered so would have to be replaced. However, the goal wasn't just to restore its shape. He had examined the magic and found that it was a style he was unfamiliar with. It was different than the enchantment of his elemental-detecting lamp. He could see the structure of the spell but it was hard to tell what was broken since he didn't know what it had looked like before. He lamented he hadn't taken the opportunity to examine it when it had been working.
Pariah had trouble getting comfortable on the sled. Her hip still ached, though the pain was less than before. Her pack was too low to be a comfortable seat, and sitting tended to make the joint cramp up. However, standing for any length of time was difficult and painful. She kept shifting restlessly from position to position as the miles sped by. Lulu had tried sitting on her knee, but her frequent movement drove the asteri to alight on Dejen's sleeping form instead.
They turned left at the crossroads, heading south. It was still dark when Bjarnson slowed the sled, raising a hand to signal Zariel to do the same. Pariah looked past him to see the road curving away from a collection of buildings ahead. It was too dark to read the "KEEP OUT" that she knew was written on the sign at the edge of Dougan's Hole. She reached down to shake Dejen out of his nap.
They came to a stop to survey the town. There were no lights, no smoke from the chimneys, no movement on the streets, no boats out on the lake, though to be fair there was no open water in sight either. If they did fish here, it would have to be ice fishing.
She noticed two things she hadn't on their last trip. First, the dogs were wary. Usually they were relaxed when they stopped anywhere, but now they were alert and focused on the dark buildings ahead. Some of them had their hackles up. Their tails were still and their ears flat.
Second, there were no tracks leading in or out of town -- no footprints, and no sled tracks. The snow between the road and the buildings was pristine and undisturbed. Nobody had been in or out of the town in a day at least, if not weeks or longer.
"Are we still intent on checking in on them?" Bjarnson asked.
"I think so," Pariah said as a chill went up her spine. "How bad could it be?"
He looked up at Zariel and she replied, "I agree. We should at least make the effort to see if these people need help."
All eyes turned to Dejen, who was pulling at his fingers nervously. "I guess," he said. "Maybe Lulu could check out the area first. You know, invisibly."
"That's a good plan," Bjarnson nodded.
"All right," Lulu said. She flew into the air, pulled an imaginary cloak around herself, and faded from sight.
"I'll watch through your eyes," Zariel called out after her. She gripped Haol's neck tightly and closed her own eyes so she could sense through Lulu's.
They waited. Since Lulu was invisible, they couldn't see her progress. After a while, Pariah asked Zariel, "Anything?" And then she realized the woman couldn't hear her while in this meditative state, so she continued to wait.
Finally Zariel spoke. "I can see nothing. Some of the buildings are damaged but I can't see anything inside, though it's still quite dark. There are no bodies from the attack; I suppose they might have been cleared. No sign of repairs to the damaged structures. No sound of movement or voices. It is really quite eerie. Lulu, why don't you come back. We'll go in together."
It wasn't long before the asteri faded into existence in front of them and landed on Zariel's shoulder.
Pariah asked, "Did you sense undead or anything like that?"
Lulu looked towards the town with a worried expression. "I'm not sure," she said uncertainly. "Nothing as strong as a presence, but there was an echo of...something." She shook her head. "I can't think how to describe it. The energy is kind of like a whisper, or a brief rotting odor that's gone as soon as you smell it. I don't know, maybe it was just my imagination. It is pretty creepy in there."
Zariel studied the buildings thoughtfully. "Although we should be on our guard, we should not be hostile. Bjarnson has already said the people here are not friendly, but that does not mean they are our enemy. And they are likely to be cautious after the attack." She drew her sword and illuminated it. "There is no reason to sneak around. We should enter boldly, show them we mean no harm."
Pariah didn't mention that a drawn sword wasn't exactly a sign of peace. She was tempted to draw her own, and not just for the light from the flame, but she left it sheathed. She did, however, strap on her shield.
Bjarnson called out, "Hike!" and the dogs started moving towards the town. As they got close, the lead dog started to turn to the right, away from the town, but Bjarnson pulled the team back in line with a gentle correction and a "Haw!"
There wasn't anything that could be considered a road. There were less than twenty buildings scattered around the area. All but one of them looked to be houses: log cabins of a utilitarian design with steep roofs. The last building was a large hall or warehouse at the head of the piers. There were no decorations, no statues, no carvings on anything. There were no lanterns on poles like the other towns had.
The snow was unmarked. No footprints were visible anywhere. Drifts were piled up against the west sides of the buildings, and from the size of the drifts they hadn't been cleared in months. The doors all faced east, towards the lake. Most of them were closed but a couple hung open, the interiors dark, snow scattered across the thresholds. Windows were shuttered.
Scorched lines cut across some of the roofs, the damage already half-covered by blowing snow. The large building and several of the smaller ones had been damaged by the dragon's claws.
Bjarnson stopped the sled on the back side of the large building, which was roughly the center of town. Zariel and Haol stopped next to him. Pariah knew that the standing stones were on the far side of town, but she couldn't see them at this distance in the darkness. They surveyed their surroundings, nobody sure what the next step was.
"I don't think anyone's left here," Bjarnson said. "This isn't just damage; this is neglect."
"What happened to them?" Dejen asked.
Bjarnson shook his head.
Pariah jumped as Zariel shouted, "Is anybody here? We are here to offer assistance to the citizens. Can anybody hear me?"
Pariah listened for a response, though it was hard to hear anything over the pounding of her heart. She took a breath and tried to calm down.
Nobody shouted back. No doors or shutters opened, even a fraction. Honestly, she would have felt better if someone had shot an arrow at them. At least it would mean someone was here.
"We should look for survivors," Zariel said.
Pariah's feelings were mixed. On the one hand, it's possible there were people too sick or injured to respond. On the other hand, if there were no survivors, she wasn't sure she wanted to find whatever else might be lurking. Bjarnson had told them previously that other visitors to the town had disappeared.
She looked towards the large building. It was about the width of one of the houses but more than three times as long and about half again as tall. At least it had been before the far right corner had collapsed. There was a double door on the short side that faced them, though no windows. Three dormers stuck out from the pitched roof along the long sides. The building was mounted on a wooden foundation about three feet above the ground, which left a wide walkway around the structure. A set of wooden steps led up from the snow.
"I'll look in there," she said. "Maybe the town sheltered there in the storm." As she said it, she realized that meant they might have all been killed when the roof fell in.
Zariel dismounted. "The rest of us should check the houses." Her feet sunk into the deep, loose snow that went past her ankles.
Bjarnson scanned the buildings. "They might want to be left alone. They always did."
"Then they can tell us that," Zariel said firmly. "I am not going to force my help on them, but we should be sure there is nobody in need."
"I suppose that's true," he admitted.
"We should pair up," Dejen said nervously. "I'll go with Zariel."
"All right," Bjarnson said. "I'll go with Pariah. Lulu, maybe you could keep flying around. Let us know if anything stirs."
Bjarnson held his staff out to Pariah, but she waved it off. Her hip was still a little unsteady, but she wanted her hands free for her sword and shield. The two of them started walking towards the large building while the other two headed towards the nearest house. Lulu had lit up Bjarnson's staff, and Pariah drew and ignited her sword.
The snow wasn't deep enough to warrant snowshoes, but it was still difficult to walk through and Pariah's injury nagged at her. She reached out with her left hand to hold onto Bjarnson's shoulder for balance, which was awkward because of the shield strapped to her forearm.
"Do you want to stay back at the sled?" he asked.
She did, but she said, "No, I'll be fine once we get up there." There was a mere dusting of snow on the wooden walkway around the building.
The steps creaked under their weight, but were thankfully free of ice. She released Bjarnson's shoulder and got her footing as he walked forward to open the door.
It didn't budge.
He pulled again, and then on the other door, but neither moved.
"Frozen?" she guessed.
"I think it's barred," he said. He rapped loudly on the door with his staff. "Hello inside!" he called out. "Is anyone there?"
There was no sound but the sigh of the wind and a slight creak from the ice out on the lake.
He scowled at the door. "I could change into a reindeer and bash it, but it looks pretty sturdy. Plus we're trying to be friendly."
Pariah knelt down in front of the door with a grunt of discomfort and held her flaming sword up as she tried to peer through the crack between the doors. "That's a tight fitting," she said. "If the doors were mounted looser, I could get a blade in there and lift the bar." She looked to the side and was glad to see the doors apparently opened outward. "We might be able to pop the hinges," she said with a nod to the hardware.
"Maybe," he said, "but metal tends to stick in the cold. Let's look around and see if there's another entrance first. Then again, it doesn't seem like anyone's in there."
"Maybe there's a storm cellar," she said, and then realized that was ridiculous. The building was on a platform, plus it wouldn't be possible to dig a cellar next to a lake. "Or something," she added.
They walked around the building, looking for other entrances. There were small windows under the peaks of the dormers, but they were high up and didn't look like they opened. There was another double door at the other short end, the one that faced the lake, but it was also barred from the inside.
"Someone has to be in there," Bjarnson said. "Otherwise, how did the doors get barred?"
"True," Pariah said, but she wasn't looking at the door. She was looking out over the lake. The wooden foundation joined the two piers that stretched out over the lake, though they had buckled during the freeze. Four boats were trapped in the ice.
But nothing moved. Nothing stirred. Nothing made a noise other than the distant sound of Zariel and Dejen calling out for survivors.
They continued their circuit of the building, reaching the damaged corner. It looked like the dragon had clawed out the wall here and the roof had collapsed from lack of support. Bjarnson poked his glowing staff into the gap among the debris. "Hello!" he called out, though by now neither of them expected an answer.
She studied the gap in the wall. "I could probably squeeze in there," she said without enthusiasm. Even the thief in her was saying, There might be loot, but I still think we should leave.
"We could both get in there," Bjarnson said.
"Uhhh," Pariah said skeptically, eyeing his bulk.
"Shapeshifter, remember?" he said with a chuckle.
"Oh, right," she said with relief. If she had to go in there, she'd rather not go alone. "All right. Like you said, someone must be in there, so we should check it out."
She unstrapped her shield and handed it to him; there's no way she'd be able to get through the narrow gap with that on her arm. Then, leading with her flaming sword, she squeezed into the narrow space. She grunted as her hip twinged but she pressed on and forced herself through the gap.
The moment she popped through, she stumbled as her hip started to give way but she caught herself. She held her sword high and looked into the dimly lit space.
This part of the building seemed to be used for storage. A few crates were pushed up against the far wall. There were also fishing nets, tools, a workbench, a rowboat mounted upside down on a frame to expose the hole in its hull, and a winch mounted to the upper rafters. Snow had blown in through the various holes in the walls and roof, and it didn't look like all the damage had come from the dragon. Like Bjarnson had said, this wasn't just damage; it was neglect.
The other half of the building had rows of benches made of rough-hewn wood. They had probably been in rows once but now had been pushed back to clear a space in the middle of the floor. There she saw ten bodies, all prone, arranged in a circle with their heads pointing inward. They were misshapen in some way though she couldn't tell how from this distance.
She jumped and a yelp escaped her lips as something fell to the floor next to her. It was her shield.
"Sorry," Bjarnson said contritely from the other side of the fracture in the wall. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Pariah turned back to look into the darkness. She'd need two hands to put on her shield and she didn't want to douse the light. "There are bodies here," she said, the words catching in her suddenly dry throat.
"Can't say I'm surprised," he sighed. "Coming in."
He shifted into the shape of an arctic fox, the same form he'd taken the day he ran off into the woods to meet the bear woman. The light dimmed as his staff was absorbed into his changing form. Pariah hadn't really paid attention to what happened to his equipment before -- she'd been focused on the shapeshifting itself -- but now she realized his armor, his cloak, and even his staff transformed with him. Just as well; he wouldn't want to change back and be naked in this cold.
He was able to fit through the gap in the wall easily. He sniffed the air and looked around, and then carefully crept towards the bodies. She glanced down at her shield and back to him. She had expected the light from his staff to allow her to extinguish her sword long enough to strap on the shield. She could see in the dark, and maybe foxes could too, but she didn't want to douse the flame right now. She picked up the shield but just held the straps. It wouldn't be quite as effective as if it were secured to her forearm, but it would have to do.
She followed the fox as he carefully moved towards the bodies. She looked around but there weren't many hiding places. Nothing lurked in the open rafters above. Nothing hid among the crates. Nothing skulked in the shadows behind the benches. There were just the bodies, and at the moment they weren't moving.
The floorboards creaked beneath her boots. She sniffed the air but could smell nothing: not the bodies, not the wood, not the musty air of a long abandoned building. The cold, dry air made her sinuses hurt.
Pariah looked towards the bodies as she got closer, trying to determine what they were. They were too misshapen to be human. They had crude wings. Could they be fiends of some kind?
She reached the corpses and looked down. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she saw, and then it came into sharp focus as she realized what she was looking at. They were human. They were all lying face down. Gouges were cut deep on either side of their spines, cutting away the ribs, and their lungs had been pulled out and cut open to make the shape of wings across their bloody backs.
"What the actual fuck?" she said in horror. "What kind of creature did this?" She wanted to look around, make sure the monster wasn't sneaking up on her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the mutilated corpses.
Bjarnson shifted back into his human form, and the light of his staff illuminated the grisly scene more brightly. "It's an old ritual among the Reghedmen called the blood eagle, though I don't believe it's been done in over a century."
"Something with a soul did this?" she asked, not believing him.
"It looks like it. Look." He pointed at a symbol on the ground in the middle of the circle of bodies. It was painted with something dark; it wasn't an enormous leap to assume it was blood. It was a crude drawing of a hand, though she might not have figured that out if it weren't for the stack of ten right hands piled on top of it, with a short spear driven through them to pin them to the floor. "I think it was meant to be a sacrifice to Malar."
Pariah tried to remember the name. It was familiar but she couldn't place it among the list of devils she knew about. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't the name of a devil. "He's god of the hunt or something, right?"
"Yes. One of the Gods of Fury, like Umberlee and Talos and Auril." He scowled down at the bodies. "But this is not the right way to attract his attention. He is the god of the hunt, not the god of murder. These people are tied up."
She hadn't noticed the bonds, but now she could see their ankles and wrists were tied. As she forced herself to examine the bodies more closely, she realized the flesh wasn't so much rotted as desiccated. "How long ago do you think this happened?"
Bjarnson crouched down. Pariah grimaced as he reached out to touch the bare upper arm of one of the bodies. He ran his fingers along the skin and then rapped it with a knuckle. It made a sound like he was knocking on stone. "Frozen solid. Partially mummified. At least a year I'd say."
She grew more and more confused. "And they just left them like this? The whole town? And where are the people who did this?"
She looked around the open area again. No hiding places. No secret doors. No basements. Just two heavy doors with a sturdy bar of wood sealing them shut.
They walked around, looking for more clues. Behind one of the benches, a hole had been torn into the floor. The wood around it bore deep gouges in parallel. Claw marks. The wood around the edge of the hole was splintered and stained; something had bled when it had forced its way out of here.
"Why didn't it just use the door?" she wondered aloud as she looked down into the hole. The bare ground was visible just a few feet below the opening.
"Rage maybe," Bjarnson surmised. "Or madness."
Pariah looked over at the bodies. "Madness I think. So whoever did this was trying to summon Malar?"
Bjarnson shrugged. "Or attract his attention at least. Maybe looking for him to stop the Rime, though I don't know if he'd work against Auril." He sighed. "Honestly, I don't care. Whatever happened here is long over. I was skeptical we were going to find anyone alive, and now I'm certain."
"I worry about undead. Vengeful spirits of the murdered victims and like that."
"Maybe," he said skeptically. "But then where are they?"
"True." A shiver ran through her. "Either way, let's get the hell out of here."
Bjarnson struggled with the bar on the door. Time and moisture had warped the wood and ice had frozen it in place. However, he managed to force it free and they were able to push the doors open and get back outside.
Pariah looked behind her as they exited, suddenly afraid that the door had sealed the unquiet dead inside. But nothing moved. The bodies remained as they were. No spirits moaned, no specters threw things at them. Maybe Zariel could bless the place just to be sure.
Pariah shuddered and hurried to follow Bjarnson down the steps.
Notes:
"Something with a soul did this?" was stolen from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
This chapter was inspired by "King of the Wolves", an Icewind Dale adventure published in Dungeon #220. The adventure involved an attempt to use the standing stones outside of Dougan's Hole for a ritual to summon Malar's protection. I've already established in this story that nobody knows what the stones are, so I moved the ritual. I also didn't want a combat, so it's just a "What the hell happened here?" moment.
Chapter 126: From the Ashes
Summary:
After seeing the horror of Dougan's Hole, group returns to Good Mead three days after the dragon attack devastated the town.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Shieldmeet, 1496 (Full Moon)
The sky had lightened by the time they reached Good Mead, though the wind had picked up and blowing snow limited visibility. That meant they still didn't have a good view of the extent of the destruction, though they could see the shattered frame of the massive greenhouse looming over the town. Fur-clad figures moved among the wreckage.
Bjarnson turned onto the road between the kennel and the meadery. The kennel building was still collapsed and empty. There were no dogs or people, and no sign directing them elsewhere.
He looked towards the mead hall. "I doubt they are still putting the dogs up in there. In fact they may not be putting up guests either if people's homes have been destroyed. We may have to camp out."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Pariah said as she climbed down off the sled, "though there may not be any empty buildings left."
She took Bjarnson's offered staff to use as a walking stick and the four of them made their way to the double doors beneath the sign that declared, "ALWAYS OPEN". The walkway had been cleared of ice so the footing was firm. Bjarnson pulled the door open and waved the rest of them inside.
As they got out of the wind, Pariah could detect the ever present hum of the hives that was almost too low to hear. She wondered what would happen to the bees now. Did they actually need flowers to survive? Did they eat pollen? She had no idea how bees worked, but hoped something could be done for them.
Nobody sat in the benches at the communal table that dominated the room. The only person they could see was a human woman in wool clothing and wearing glasses who looked up from the tableau of playing cards laid out on the bar surface. Her face lit up slightly as she recognized them. "You're back," she declared.
"We are," Bjarnson said. "Are there any rooms available or is this building still a shelter?"
"Yes and yes," the woman said. "We're putting up a couple of displaced families but the rooms are free." Then she added, "I mean 'free' as in available. The cost is two dragons per room per night."
Bjarnson grinned. "Seems fair. Is Tyrell boarding dogs?"
"Yeah," she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the wall. The lake was in that direction. "There's a warehouse by the pier. He's housing dogs there until the kennel can get rebuilt."
Bjarnson turned to the group. "How about if I take the dogs there? Haol can follow. Zariel and Dejen, you start unloading our packs. Pariah, take care of the rooms and then get off your feet."
"I can-" she started to object.
"We got this," he interrupted. "Rest. Heal." He waved towards the bartender. "Ask her what's been going on around here. Tell her the news about the other towns."
Pariah was torn, but she also knew she wouldn't be any help with the baggage. Besides, exchanging news was important. "Fine," she grumbled. "But I'm going to start drinking without you."
"Good plan," he grinned.
"I'll stay here," Lulu said.
The others headed back outside, and Pariah lowered herself onto the bench near the bar with a slight groan, and leaned the staff against the table. Lulu alit on the table next to her and sat on the edge. As Pariah fished coins out of her pouch, she said, "That'll be two rooms for us. And a hot mead for me."
The bartender grabbed a mug and turned to the barrel behind her. "Four dragons for the rooms; a shard for the mead. Anything for you little one?"
"No," Lulu said.
Pariah noted that the mead price was higher than before, just like in Easthaven, though it was still cheaper than in the other towns. She counted out the coins as she heard the hiss of the hot iron in the mug of mead. The bartender brought over the mug and as she set it down, Pariah motioned across the table and said, "Take a seat. Let's talk."
The woman scooped up the coins as she did so. Pariah mimed a toast and said, "To the future of Good Mead." She took a sip and couldn't help but make a face. The mead was severely watered down.
"Wow, that's..." she started to say, but then she looked over at the woman who was watching her with a guarded expression. Pariah finished, "...quite lovely," with a polite smile.
The bartender sighed, "It's going to get worse before it gets better. We're going to have to stretch out our supply until we can figure out what to do about the greenhouse and what honey is left."
"I'm Pariah, by the way," the tiefling said. "I don't think I ever got your name." She took another sip.
"Kahti," the woman replied.
Pariah nodded in acknowledgment. "What is the plan with the greenhouse?" she asked. "I thought I saw some people out there."
Kahti looked gloomily towards the door that led to the hives. "We aren't sure what the plan is. There's a lot to rebuild in town, but the greenhouse is everything. Without it, we're just another fishing village. Right now people are cleaning up the debris and gathering up the glass. There's a glazier in Easthaven who can probably melt it down and form new panes." She looked back at Pariah. "But I guess that depends on whether it's over or not. The dragon didn't come back so..." She trailed off expectantly.
"Dragon's dead," Pariah confirmed. "Or maybe destroyed is a better word; I don't know if it was really alive. And the duergar behind it went back to the Underdark." She furrowed her brow as she wondered if they should go back to Sunblight to ensure the gray dwarves had actually left.
"Tempus's blessing helped?" the barkeep asked.
Pariah glanced down at the hilt of the scimitar. "It did," she admitted.
"I'm glad to hear that," the other woman said. "None of us are that devout anymore, but it's good that he came through for us."
Eventually, Pariah thought sourly to herself.
"What about the other towns?" Kahti asked. "Some man came through from Bryn Shander to survey the damage, but he didn't have news about anywhere else."
Pariah stared into her mug of watered down mead. "It worked its way up the eastern towns until we brought it down in Caer-Konig. I guess we never got a casualty count before we left there. Caer-Dineval did all right; they have a powerful wizard who chased it off. Easthaven lost one person in seven. Dougan's Hole was completely wiped out, though it looks like that happened long before the dragon."
"Wiped out?" Kahti asked in shock. "What do you mean?"
Pariah shrugged. "We don't know what happened. We found ten bodies that had been involved in some horrible ritual. Other than that, we just found some scattered bones in the houses. Animals must have gotten to them. But all the signs made it look like it happened at least a year ago."
They never found whoever or whatever had mutilated the bodies and torn its way out of the warehouse/meeting hall. There were no diaries or journals or any books at all. They had found numerous stains inside the houses that seemed to be blood, though it was hard to be certain after this long.
Zariel hadn't been comfortable leaving the sacrificial bodies as they were. The ground was too hard to dig. None of the ramshackle buildings was sturdy enough to be a crypt. The lake was frozen over. Bjarnson suggested leaving the corpses for the animals; it was nature's way. Pariah had mostly just wanted to get out of the eerie town; Dejen shared her feelings.
In the end, they had found some barrels of whale oil, which was thick and waxy after so long in the brutal cold. They broke open the barrels and used the viscous oil to ignite a crude pyre built of furniture. Zariel used her magic to intensify the flames and as the oil warmed, it ran free and the fire got even hotter until all that was left was a pile of ash and bone. There wasn't much more they could do, so Zariel said a short prayer and then they got back on the road to Good Mead.
Pariah shook her head to clear the ugly memory. "If you don't mind my asking, how many casualties here?"
"Twenty-seven dead," Kahti said despondently. "Another dozen are going to be laid up for a while. Lots of lesser injuries." She rubbed her shoulder through the thick wool as she said that. "The speaker was one of the dead." She shook her head. "Second speaker dead in as many months. The head brewer's dead too. I'm not sure how well her assistant is going to be able to fill her shoes." She stared towards the hive door again. "I guess we'll have to figure it out."
Twenty-seven out of...Pariah couldn't remember the exact number but knew it was just under a hundred. She furrowed her brow as she tried to calculate the ratio, but the math was beyond her. Certainly more than one in seven though.
The door to the outside opened, admitting Zariel and Dejen who hauled in their backpacks and stacked them inside the door. Dejen had also brought the folded-up construct, the coffee bottle, and a couple of other loose items. It took two trips to get everything inside, and the cold wind sent freezing air deep into the room. When they were done and had closed the door, Kahti gestured upstairs and said, "Take any of the rooms on the left side. They're all empty."
There were no locks on the doors, something that had bothered Pariah on their last visit. She had that strange padlock she had picked up in Sunblight, but there wasn't anything to fasten it to. They'd have to trust the honesty of the locals.
Dejen and Zariel carried the first load up the stairs. Pariah asked, "How long do they think it's going to take to rebuild the greenhouse?"
Kahti shook her head. "Nobody's sure. I guess the plan is to start with something small to let Thiala try to revive the flowers. Then expand it in sections or something like that. Olivessa seems to be taking charge of that. She actually worked on the original one years ago so has some idea of how to build the frame and mount the glass panes. But it's delicate work. Months at least, and years more likely, before we're back to anything like we were."
"And what's going to happen to the mead trade? We've been talking about that. It's not just the money. As one person put it, nobody wants to face the Everlasting Rime sober."
Kahti scowled at Pariah's mug. "We're already watering it down, as you can tell."
"Really," Pariah said sardonically. "Never would have guessed."
Kahti snorted. "We figure we can dilute existing supplies with water two to one and still get something drinkable. Future batches will be brewed weak to stretch out the honey supplies." She sighed, "Even so, it's going to be a long time before production is anywhere near the demand. It's not just rebuilding the greenhouse. It takes time to regrow the flowers, for the bees to gather the pollen, for them to make the honey. It wouldn't be possible at all without Thiala."
"How is she?" Pariah asked before taking a sip of weak alcohol.
"Better," she said thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling. "You can feel it, can't you?" She waved generally around the room.
Pariah realized she was right. Not only was the air of melancholy gone, but now there was an aura of calm. She felt very peaceful sitting here. "Yeah, I can," she said.
"She's still very quiet. Introspective. She spends more time outside than she should, going through the dead plants gathering seeds. The rest of her time she spends in the hives. She barely eats. But she seems to have hope that her garden can bloom again, even if just in a small way. In fact she's going out into the forest tonight to gather some kind of ingredients. Sprigs of holly gathered under the full moon or some such nature hocus-pocus. She says it will be the foundation of renewing the greenhouse's enchantment."
"That's good to hear," Pariah said with genuine enthusiasm. "Is she going alone?"
"She wanted to, but a couple of the hunters are going with her to make sure she's safe."
Pariah looked towards the outer door. "My friend, Bjarnson, would probably want to go too. He's also a student of, as you put it, nature hocus-pocus."
"I think she might like that," Kahti replied, raising her eyebrows. "She's kind of tolerating the others going along, but I know she and Bjarnson go way back."
"I'll let him know." She furrowed her brow. "When's moonrise?"
Kahti shrugged. "A few hours after it goes dark. Not sure."
The sky hadn't been light for long so it probably wasn't even noon. That meant they still had several hours. She briefly considered offering to join the expedition, but she knew she'd just slow them down in her current state. "Lulu, you should go too," she said.
"I was just going to suggest that," Lulu replied.
Pariah took another sip and said, "I wonder if the other towns would help rebuild the greenhouse."
Kahti made a sour face. "Maybe, but then they'd probably want a stake in our mead trade or a discount or something. I think we'd be better off doing it on our own."
Pariah considered what she'd said. "I hadn't thought of that. And you don't have a speaker to negotiate for you."
She started to say that Bjarnson could help Thiala with any nature rituals, but she knew they weren't planning to stay. She wanted to get back to Termalaine and see if Eberic was willing to rejoin them, and didn't want to leave someone behind here.
She finished the last of her mead as Zariel came down the stairs to grab the last of their equipment. Pariah put the mug down and said, "Well, I suppose I'll head up. We'll probably be down later for another drink."
She used the staff to help her stand. She glanced over at Zariel but there was nothing she could carry, so she started towards the stairs. Lulu flew up ahead of her.
The second floor had mostly been restored to its former state. The tables had been moved back out into the room and there weren't crowds of people sitting or lying on the floor. A human woman whose blonde hair was tied up with a bright green silk scarf, and a human man with a bushy moustache and spectacles with a cracked lens were seated at one of the tables, both eating a fish and seaweed dish. They didn't even look up as Pariah and Lulu entered.
A blanket hung from the ceiling to the right, closing off one corner of the room, including one of the fireplaces. There were three rooms along that wall, all three doors closed. Two of the three doors to the left were open and she could see Dejen in one of the rooms, fiddling with the construct, trying to get it to activate.
Pariah was both restless and tired after the trip from Easthaven, unsure what she wanted to do right now. She remembered that Bjarnson had told them that it was frowned upon to wear armor in town, so she went to the room Dejen wasn't in to strip out of her leathers. Zariel joined her and also doffed her splinted mail, which still bore scars from the dragon's claws.
Seeing the damage to Zariel's armor reminded Pariah that she had a few holes of her own. "We should have Dejen look at our equipment."
"I've kept meaning too," Zariel said, "but, well..." She shrugged as she trailed off.
"Yeah, I know," Pariah sighed. It had been hard to stay focused over the last couple of days.
They took their armor to the next room where Dejen was bent over, peering into the mechanism of the construct. They laid the damaged pieces on the bed. Pariah said, "Dejen, when you get a chance could you repair this damage?"
He glanced over and then went back to work. "All right. As soon as I finish here."
Then, remembering the people outside, she added, "And there's a man out there with broken glasses. Do you think you could fix those?"
"The lens or the frame?" he asked in a distracted tone.
"The lens."
He stopped working and frowned thoughtfully. "Tricky," he said. "I don't know if I could get the same refraction."
Pariah didn't know what that meant so said nothing.
"I'll try, though," he continued.
Unfortunately, his repair magic worked only on small breaks and tears, not collapsed walls and caved-in roofs. Still, there might be a few things in town he could fix.
She and Zariel left him to his fiddling and went out to stand in front of the unblocked fireplace and warm themselves. Lulu flew off to chat with the couple at the table.
As Pariah stared into the fire, her hands held out to feel the heat, she remembered something else she had been too distracted to examine further. Something odd had happened during their final battle with the dragon. She looked towards Dejen's room but she knew he was enthralled with his toy.
"I want to try something," she said to Zariel.
"Try what?" Zariel asked.
"Something with my magic. It's probably nothing."
Zariel looked puzzled. "All right," she said uncertainly.
Pariah concentrated and a swirl of snow appeared in front of her. She stepped into it.
All color drained out of the world around her. The sound of the fire and the wind outside were muffled, like she was listening through a blanket. She couldn't see the far wall of the room; it was lost in a gray mist.
It was just like when she'd been dead.
She felt the teleportation spell pulling her towards her imagined destination but she resisted, focusing on the gray world around her, holding her position here.
Zariel looked around the room. "Pariah?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"I'm here," she said, but her own words were lost in the grayness. Zariel didn't react.
Pariah reached out to touch the woman's shoulder, let her know she was here, but her hand passed through like Zariel was an illusion. Pariah looked down and saw her feet weren't touching the floor. She was floating, just like when she had been suspended over her corpse.
Panic rose in her and the world suddenly came rushing back. She fell a couple of inches to the floor, and pain shot through her hip as she caught her balance.
Zariel stared at her. "What just happened?" she asked.
Pariah shook her head as she leaned against the wall for support. "I'm not sure. New magic maybe? It's not like anything I was able to do before. I think I was able to go to the Border Ethereal, though just for a moment. Let me try it again."
Again the swirl of snow appeared in the air before her. She stepped in, the world went gray, but this time the air was...slippery. She couldn't hold herself where she was, and she popped into existence on the other side of the room. She looked back towards Zariel in frustration. She debated about trying it again, but her head was swimming. She was afraid that if she lost her concentration, she'd get stuck there, unable to come back.
The dining couple and Lulu were watching her now. She gave them a polite nod and walked back to Zariel, leaning on her walking stick. "Well, that didn't work," she said. "I'll have to keep trying, just not right now. Do you know anything about the Border Ethereal?"
Zariel shook her head. "Not really. The Ethereal Plane is the space between the Inner Planes, and the Border Ethereal is the transition area where the planes touch. I don't know anything about the environment or inhabitants though." She looked down thoughtfully at Pariah. "Perhaps that is how your teleportation magic has always worked -- brief jaunts through the Border Ethereal. Your untimely demise may have strengthened your connection and allowed you to spend a bit more time there."
"Not that long," Pariah said with a snort. It had been no longer than a few heartbeats. Still, it might allow her to pass through a locked door that defied her picks, like the door that Xardorok had magicked shut during his escape. Then again, she would have been alone on the other side of the door.
"Well, here's hoping it comes in handy at some point," she shrugged.
Notes:
I said before that I never did the math on how big a greenhouse you'd need to provide honey to make enough mead to satisfy all of Ten-Towns. This time I did. I figured out how much mead per person, how much honey per gallon of mead, how many flowers per pound of honey, and how much land would be needed. The greenhouse would have to be measured in square miles. So we'll lean on good old "because magic".
Pariah's spell at the end was Ethereal Step from her Horizon Walker abilities. It's one of those nice story coincidences -- she dies and goes to the Border Ethereal, and then conveniently gets a power from her class that let's her step into the Border Ethereal for one turn.
Chapter 127: Hunt and Gather
Summary:
Bjarnson helps Thiala collect what she needs to start restoring the greenhouse, while the others rest for the evening.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Shieldmeet, 1496 (Full Moon)
Pariah took another sip of watered-down mead. She would have switched to tea or even water, but the other people at the table in the common room on the first floor of the mead hall had been buying them drinks all night.
When word got out that the heroes who had killed the dragon were in town, a number of people had come by to hear the story and to be reassured that the town was no longer in danger. Some came and went, but others stayed. The townspeople paid for their supper and their drinks, and Kahti returned the money for their rooms, apologizing for having charged them. Pariah had assured her that they were happy to pay, but the bartender had insisted.
Bjarnson, Lulu, Thiala and a couple of hunters had headed out a couple of hours ago. Pariah hadn't had a chance to talk to the eladrin, but caught a glimpse of her as she came through on her way outside. The leaves that cloaked her body were brown and orange and gold. Her hair was the color and texture of straw. A pair of small antlers poked out from her scalp, and an acorn or two peeked out from her foliage. A few leaves fell from her body as she walked through the room, and they shriveled and faded into nothing as they touched the floor.
There was still sorrow in her expression, and the edges of her leaves were limned in frost. Although she radiated calm and peace, a chilly draft blew across Pariah as the woman walked by her.
Lulu kept Zariel informed of their progress as the night wore on. She was bored, since the expedition involved wandering around, searching in the dark for certain kinds of plants and then carefully harvesting them with a gold-bladed sickle. She said Bjarnson seemed to be having fun, but Lulu wished something more interesting would happen.
Pariah was happy to keep things boring for a few days.
Everyone else at the table was a local except for an itinerant tinker named Yana Vahnstein, a human woman with wavy blonde hair, intense blue eyes, and an endless curiosity. She wore a bulky fur cloak despite the fact the room was warm. She told them that she traveled around Ten-Towns repairing metal goods, mostly things like pots and belt buckles. She could do a little carpentry but her skill was mostly with metals. Her work was a little challenging since she'd lost her left thumb to frostbite about six months ago.
She'd listened raptly to their story of the combat against the dragon, and against the duergar before that. She'd also asked about their other adventures since they'd arrived in Ten-Towns, and many of her inquiries had been quite intrusive. The group had avoided answering some of her questions, and she never seemed offended by that, though she had a habit of circling back and asking again.
Yana studied Dejen with a baffled look as he drew lines in the air with his quill. He had explained that it allowed him to store copious amounts of information, and she had been fascinated by that. At the moment, he was scribbling quite frantically with an intense look.
"What are you doing?" Yana asked him.
"Hmm?" he replied in a distracted tone. Then, realizing that everyone was staring at him now, he gave an embarrassed laugh and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm reorganizing my reference material. This device can store so much information that it's easy for details to get lost, so I prioritize certain subjects. When I came here, I had marked a number of references to natural forces, since I was studying the climate effects of the Everlasting Rime. However, I realize that's a wasted effort now. Bjarnson knows far more than I do of the local flora, fauna, weather, and so on, so I'm deprioritizing those references and looking for anything I have on local histories and legends and so on. It might help us find..."
He trailed off abruptly and glanced over at Pariah. He quickly finished, "...information about Auril and the Everlasting Rime."
Pariah wasn't sure what he had been about to say, but Yana jumped on his hesitation. "Have you found out anything else? I've heard stories about all kinds of ancient peoples and wizards and so on. In fact people say there is an ancient city buried somewhere under Icewind Dale. Do you think that's true? Have you found anything about where it is?"
The locals lost interest, giving each other that, "Oh, this old fairy tale again" look before going back to drinking watery mead.
"Well, I don't know," Dejen said with a stammer. "You know what those old legends are like. They get embellished over time. Two men argue over the price of a turnip, and a thousand years later it's evolved into a story of a war between mighty kingdoms. No, I'm more interested in the history of Auril's activities in the area, like what happened during the Sundering."
"Oh, you mean the Ice Witch," Yana said.
"Yes, exactly," he replied.
"I know all about that," she said dismissively. "I want to hear about ancient cities. Do you know anything about them?"
"No, not really," Dejen replied. "You're local, so you've probably heard more stories than I have. On the other hand, if you want to hear an exciting tale about crop blight, I have a great story about when the elves of Shimasta had a dispute with Riatavin, the city where I lived at the time."
He launched into a tedious story about politics and plant diseases, and Yana's eyes glazed over pretty quickly. Pariah had heard him tell the story before, and this was an exceptionally boring version of it that focused on absolute minutia. She suppressed a smile.
She yawned, and then said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That was rude. I'm very tired after my trip so I think I'll just leave you to your..." She waved uncertainly at the quill he held in his fingers, and said weakly, "...fiddling. Good night." She stood and nodded to the others at the table. "Good night, everyone."
There was a mumble of well wishes and she headed up the stairs.
Pariah watched her go and leaned forward, trying to speak softly so the others in the room wouldn't hear. "Does she seem...I don't know...'off' to either of you?"
"No," Zariel said, puzzled. "She seemed liked quite a nice woman."
"I suppose," Dejen said uncertainly. "She seemed surprisingly bored by the story of how we fought a dragon, but quite focused on our other activities."
"That's what I was thinking. And suddenly asking about ancient cities." She shook her head. "I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. But I-"
Dejen suddenly leapt to his feet with a gasp. "Someone is in our room!" he hissed, and then he ran up the stairs.
Pariah didn't react right away as her mind tried to adjust to his sudden change in behavior. She and Zariel exchanged a confused glance before standing and following Dejen, though at a slower pace than he had used.
The dining room and kitchen were empty, as they often were between meals. The door to Dejen and Bjarnson's room was open. Yana was inside the room frozen in position, her hands in Bjarnson's backpack that lay on one of the beds. Dejen was standing outside the doorway, his quill in his hand and pointing at her. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
Yana looked down guiltily at the pack and then at them. "Oh," she said as she straightened up and looked around in mock confusion. "This isn't my room. My mistake. I'm next door."
Pariah moved beside Dejen, blocking her exit from the room.
"I don't think so," Pariah said. She was unarmored at the moment, though so was Yana. Pariah was wearing her sword, which remained sheathed at the moment. "What were you after?"
"Nothing," the woman insisted. "I just got lost." Then, realizing nobody believed her story, she sighed, "All right, fine. I just wanted to see if there were a few loose coins around, or maybe something I could sell in the next town. Tinkering isn't terribly lucrative."
Pariah glanced behind them as she heard footsteps. Kahti and two of the others had followed them upstairs. "Go get Enka," the bartender said to the young man standing next to her.
"Oh, that's not necessary," Yana said with a nervous laugh as the man jogged down the stairs. She started to push past them. "There's no harm done. I'll just go to my room and..."
Pariah grabbed her arm. "Empty your pockets," she said, guiding the woman out into the main room and pointing to a nearby table.
"Come on, I was in the room for barely a moment before you all came running. What could I have taken?"
"Now!" Pariah said sternly. She'd been on the other end of being caught stealing and felt uncomfortable being the one in authority here. She didn't mind people with sticky fingers now and then, but she had to be sure the woman hadn't managed to pocket something important.
Yana released an exasperated sigh as she began petulantly taking things out of the pockets of her cloak and slamming them on the table. There was nothing special -- a coin pouch, a whetstone, a pair of tin snips, a file, and a rolled up bundle of cloth. Pariah unrolled the latter and found it held a set of lock picks. Yana shrugged innocently.
It looked like she was just a thief, and Pariah didn't normally have a problem with that. She was prepared to let the woman go with a stern warning, but then Dejen pointed and said, "I think she has something there." He was pointing to the left side of her cloak. "It hangs crooked, like there's something in an inside pocket."
Pariah examined the spot indicated and could see a slight lump under the fur. "Good eye," she said, impressed.
Yana immediately became nervous. "You have no right to detain me," she asserted as she jerked her arm out of Pariah's grip. "I haven't stolen anything."
Yet, Pariah thought. Maybe it would have been better to have given her time to take something.
Pariah pulled the woman's cloak open to look for an inside pocket, but Yana jerked the fur away from her. "I don't have to put up with this. I'm just going to go back to my room."
Pariah clapped the hilt of her sword. "You can show me what's in that pocket or I can take it. Your choice."
Yana's eyes darted around the room. Kahti moved behind her and said, "We don't take kindly to thieves around here. I think we should just wait for Enka. She does have the right to search and detain you."
Pariah guessed that Enka was the local sheriff. "Empty that pocket. Now!"
Yana drew herself up defiantly but then her bearing wilted. "Fine," she said with a pout.
As the woman reached into her pocket, Pariah stayed alert in case she pulled out some kind of weapon. However it was just a platinum-framed wooden disk about a handspan across. It looked familiar.
"It's the control disk for Ulis!" Dejen exclaimed as he started patting his pockets. "And the collapsing pole is missing as well."
He wore that in a sheath on his belt like a truncheon, since it was about that size. Pariah glanced over at him and saw the sheath was empty. She pointed to the table again. "Everything!"
Yana scowled at her but took the rod out of her pocket along with the wand of fireworks. She put them on the table and then opened the pocket for Pariah to see it was empty. "Happy?" she said grumpily.
Everyone from downstairs had come up to watch the drama. Dejen had walked over to look down at the items on the table. "These are all Netherese artifacts," he mused. He looked at her suspiciously. "Why did you steal only the Netherese artifacts?"
"The what?" Yana said. Pariah wasn't sure if her confusion was genuine or not, but it was true that she had taken only Netherese artifacts.
"I think that's enough," Zariel said as she drew her sword.
Yana put her hands up defensively and said, "Hey, wait a minute..."
Zariel brought the sword down, burying the point in the wooden floor. "Confess!" she commanded, and the blade emitted a pulse of magical energy that filled the room. Pariah grimaced as she felt the sudden urge to tell the truth.
Zariel sheathed her sword and then stepped forward to look down on Yana. "Why were you in his room?"
The other woman studied Zariel shrewdly before saying, "I was looking for something to steal. Tinkering isn't as lucrative as people might think."
"Were you looking for more Netherese artifacts?"
"I was looking for something valuable."
"But were you looking specifically for Netherese artifacts?"
Yana shrugged. "I was looking for something valuable," she repeated.
Zariel pointed to the stolen objects. "You took these off his person, correct?"
"Yes."
"Why did you take those items specifically? You didn't take his coin purse or the magical pendant he wears."
Yana raised her eyebrows as she looked over at Dejen. "That's magical? I'll have to remember that the next time I get close to you."
Dejen reflexively reached up to put his hand over the scrimshaw pendant he had gotten from Trovus.
Zariel asked, "Have you heard of Netheril?"
Yana cocked her head as she thought about the question. "Some ancient magical empire, right? Everyone's heard stories about them. If those are Netherese then I imagine they'd be worth a pretty copper or two."
"To who?"
Yana shrugged. "To whoever is collecting Netherese artifacts."
"Are you working for Avarice?"
Yana smirked at Zariel. "No," she said emphatically.
Zariel was surprised by her answer. "You aren't working for the wizard Avarice? From Caer-Dineval?"
"I'm not working for Avarice," Yana confirmed smugly.
Pariah was surprised by her answer as well. She had just assumed that Avarice was employing a human agent in addition to her spells and magical creatures. However her thoughts were interrupted when she heard two pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs.
Two people joined the crowd in the dining room. One was the young man Kahti had sent out, and the second was presumably Enka, the woman he'd been sent to retrieve. She was dressed in chainmail rather than the leather that most militia members wore, and she had an axe on her back. It looked more like an axe for chopping than for killing, though it was probably good at the latter as well. Her hair was white and matted. She might have been a half-orc, but she might also have just been a sturdily built human with a protruding lower jaw.
"What's going on here?" she asked in a gravelly voice.
Kahti pointed to Yana and said, "This one was stealing from the rooms."
"I didn't steal from the rooms," Yana insisted.
"Only because they caught you before you could," Kahti said.
Yana shrugged with a smirk.
Zariel pointed to Dejen and said to her, "But you did steal items off of his person."
"True," Yana said.
"But you are not working for Avarice," Zariel said again.
Yana gave her an annoyed look. "I don't know how many times you want me to say it. No, I'm not working for Avarice. Never met the woman."
Dejen stepped forward and stood on the woman's right, staring at the side of her head. He pulled out his quill and began scribbling in the air next to her while mumbling. Arcane runes appeared briefly under the point of the quill.
"What is he doing?" Yana demanded, shying away from him.
He said, "I'm reading the writing in your mind. Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."
"He can't do that!" she said angrily to Enka.
The burly woman rubbed her chin and said, "I'll allow it."
Yana's eyes darted around the room but she was surrounded. She had no way to escape.
Dejen tapped his lips with the tip of his quill as he studied the side of her head. "Interesting," he mumbled. "That's not...oh, I see...who is that?...the name is familiar." He began moving the quill again, but this time he was drawing horizontal lines in the air. Pariah knew that meant he was reading from his hidden store of information rather than writing to it.
"Oh, that's right," he said triumphantly. "Vellynne! The necromancer we met briefly in Bryn Shander."
"What?" Yana exclaimed, and for the first time she looked frightened. "I don't..." She struggled to speak. "That's not..." She made a frustrated growl.
Zariel fixed her with a glare and demanded, "You are working for Vellynne?"
Yana struggled to keep the words in but finally grated out, "Sometimes."
"And what is your role?"
The woman sighed in resignation. "She described your group to me. Said to keep an eye out and report on your movements. And to steal any artifacts you might have that didn't seem local."
"Anything else?"
Again Yana tried to remain silent, but said, "And to keep an eye out for the other wizards, especially Nass Lantomir."
Pariah remembered that was another one of the four Luskan wizards who were supposed to be in the area. Zariel asked, "Why her?"
Yana shrugged. "Nass stole something from her. She wouldn't tell me what it was, only that it was a crystal sphere about a handspan across. Offered a thousand gold for its return. Twice that if I also provided proof of Nass's death, but I'm a thief, not a killer."
"Crystal?" Pariah asked. "Chardalyn?"
"That's what I thought," Yana admitted, "but she said no. Crystal like a crystal ball. But not a crystal ball, just a ball of crystal." Her brow furrowed as she realized how absurd that sounded. "You know what I mean!" she said defensively.
Dejen said, "And did she want to know about Dzaan?"
"She wanted information on him too, but he got burned up in Easthaven."
Pariah asked, "And Avarice?"
"I've asked about her in Caer-Dineval. Nobody knows much other than she's in the castle with those Helmites who've taken over. And apparently the frost giants are mad at her, but nobody knew why. I offered my repair services to the people at the castle but they wouldn't let me in the gate. Politely told me to go away with big, creepy grins on their faces."
"And how do you get all this information to her?" asked Zariel.
"She just shows up now and then. I tell her what I know, she gives me some money, and then she leaves. I don't know how she's tracking me."
The group silently considered what she had told them until Zariel said, "What else do you do for her?"
"She also wants any information on Netheril, no matter how ridiculous. Books especially, but even kids' fairy tales or crackpot theories. That's it. That's everything I do for her."
Pariah didn't detect any deception, and knew she couldn't lie under Zariel's spell anyhow. She glanced over at Dejen who was staring at the side of Yana's head intently.
"I think that's all," he said. "There are some other thoughts in there, but nothing special. A few revenge fantasies aimed at us, but it's all bluster. Mostly she's scared we are going to murder her, and she wants to leave."
Enka had been happy to stand back and let them do the questioning, but now she straightened up and said sternly, "You aren't planning to murder her, are you?"
"Of course not, sheriff," Zariel assured her.
"Sergeant, not sheriff," Enka replied. "Are you done with her?"
Zariel studied Yana shrewdly before saying, "I have no further questions."
Pariah said, "I'd like to go through her stuff, see if there is any information in there."
"Hey!" Yana objected. "I answered your questions. You got your shit back."
Enka scowled at Pariah before saying, "I'll inspect her things. You can watch."
Pariah shrugged. "That's fair."
Zariel fetched the woman's things from her room, but there was nothing of interest to the group. It was basic travel supplies and tools. There were a couple of pieces of jewelry that Enka gave Yana the stink eye over, but nothing that was obviously stolen.
When they were finished, the sergeant said to Yana, "All right, gather up your shit and get out of town. Don't come back. You're banned from Good Mead."
"It's the middle of the night," Yana exclaimed. "You can't send me out into the cold."
"You have a dog sled. Weather's not too bad. You can get to Easthaven or Bryn Shander in a couple of hours." When the woman started to object again, Enka said harshly, "Or I can chain you up in one of the outhouses tonight and you can leave in the morning. I'll also assume anything of value in your possession is stolen and confiscate it to fund the town's rebuilding effort."
Yana made a wordless noise of frustration, but she knew she had no leg to stand on. "Fine!" she said as she started collecting her possessions.
"I'll escort you to the edge of town," Enka said.
They headed downstairs, and the onlookers started to drift away now that the show was over.
"I'm so sorry," Kahti said to the group. "We pride ourselves on the safety of our guests." She looked mournfully towards the stairs. "I've known her for years. I had no idea she was a thief. Let me get you a round on the house as an apology."
Dejen said, "You all go ahead. I just want to look over my things first."
Kahti and Zariel headed down to the bar, but Pariah hung back. "How did you know she was in your room?" she asked from the doorway to Dejen's room.
He was carefully looking into every pocket of his backpack. "It's something I've been experimenting with. I write lines of runes and can detect when anyone crosses them. It won't trigger off you or the others, but a stranger sets off the alarm. I hear a sort of pinging in my head."
Pariah looked down at the floor. "I don't see anything," she said.
"Oh, they are invisible. It wouldn't be much of a trap if you could see it."
"Makes sense," she admitted. "Do you think you could do that for our room too?"
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at the ceiling pensively. "I'm not sure. I've never tried to maintain two. I think so."
"Then would we hear it if someone triggers it?"
"No, the spell would be tied to me..." He trailed off with a thoughtful noise. He mumbled to himself, "Although maybe if I wrote that section differently, I could send out pressure waves that would create sound. Pulses like the clanging of a bell. Might work. Would be an interesting experiment." He nodded at her. "Yes, I'll have to try that. I'll do it tonight. Won't take more than about ten minutes."
"I'd like to watch if you wouldn't mind," she said, and then she remembered what he'd said. "Oh, but if the runes are invisible I guess it wouldn't mean much."
"They are visible for a moment when I write them. And I could always write them down for you if you want to study them. I don't think you could use them, since your magic is more instinctual than studied, but you might be able to understand them."
"I'd like that," she said. "Let me get my notebook."
Notes:
Thiala's expedition is related to a sort of homebrew version of druid's grove. While that spell is designed around defensive measures, I've extended it to do things like control temperature, microclimates, and plant growth. She'll need to cast it every day, and it consumes the components, so she'll have to venture out every full moon to stock up for the next month.
Dejen's subclass (laserllama's Archivist) allows him to use his Artificial Mind (his awakened quill) to get proficiencies in certain skills. He originally tagged Nature and Religion, but Nature is already covered by Bjarnson and Eberic. Archivists can change their proficiencies on a short rest, so he's changing Nature to History, which nobody else has.
Original artificer can use ritual casting, but laserllama's version can't. I'm not sure what his reasoning is, but with my slower resting rules I'm letting Dejen use ritual casting.
Zariel's sword can cast color spray or zone of truth once per day. She doesn't use it very often, which is why I thought I'd mention it.
Chapter 128: A Tempest and a Teacup
Summary:
The party, still recovering from the fight with the dragon, goes to Bryn Shander in search of more news.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 1, 1496 (1 day after the Full Moon)
There wasn't much they could do to help in Good Mead, so the group decided to move on to Bryn Shander the following morning. The plan had been to wait for sunrise, but after they woke up, Bjarnson thought a blizzard was blowing in so urged them to get started when it was still dark.
He had been right.
Thankfully, although the wind was harsh during most of the trip, the full brunt of the storm didn't hit until they were nearly at their destination. The light Lulu had created on the front of the sled illuminated nothing other than a wall of blowing snow ahead. The dogs were moving at a walk, fighting against the wind blowing in their faces, but the Eastway was easy to follow even in such treacherous conditions. The dogs, the axe beak, and even Bjarnson had been bred for the climate so did fine. The others were struggling but they knew they were close.
Bjarnson yelled over his shoulder. Pariah couldn't make out the words over the scream of the wind, but she looked past him to see the indistinct shape of the walls of Bryn Shander ahead. She turned around to slap Dejen on the shoulder and point. He stared miserably out of the hood of his cloak and nodded at her. Zariel was barely visible even though she was only a few feet behind them.
The huge torch that usually illuminated the area in front of the gate was unlit. There were no guards on the wall. There was a hint of light coming from the arrow slits in the towers on either side of the gate.
Bjarnson called up to the wall but his voice was swallowed by the storm. He turned a frustrated look at the people in the sled behind him.
Dejen leaned forward and pointed at the unlit torch. "Can you ignite that?" he asked Bjarnson. "I can use my firework wand if you can."
The big man eyed the torch and then ignited a fire in the palm of his hand. It flickered slightly like it always did but didn't seem to be affected by the wind. He cocked his arm back and hurled the flame. It flew straight but splattered against the wall to the side of the torch. Bjarnson tried again and this time he hit. The torch burned, though its flame was tossed about by the storm and it looked like it was about to go out.
Dejen pointed his wand and the torch burst into sparks with a loud crackle that could be heard even over the blizzard around them.
Nobody came out, but suddenly the light coming from the arrows slits was blocked. Bjarnson waved at the tower, and then pointed to himself and then to the gate. There was a pause and Pariah braced herself for a volley of crossbow bolts; maybe a fiery explosion hadn't been the best way to get the attention of the soldiers.
They waited and nothing happened, and then the gates finally started to open. Bjarnson urged the dogs inside and Zariel and Haol came close behind. The sound of the wind wasn't as bad inside the walls, though it still roared overhead.
The road ahead was blocked by a palisade. A half-dozen guards were in the courtyard. Unlike their previous visits, the guards' crossbows were drawn and pointed at the group. A red-headed dwarven woman exclaimed, "You've got about ten words to tell me why you are exploding my walls!" Pariah recognized her as the chief deputy.
Bjarnson had put his hands up. "Sorry, we were just trying to get your attention. It's just a firework, not a weapon. We didn't want to be stuck outside in the storm." He pulled down his hood to show his face. The others followed his example.
She scowled at them. "I suppose I remember you now. What's your business here?"
"We were going to report in to Speaker Shane about the dragon attack and other events in the east. Probably do a little trading."
Dejen piped up, "And we have a magic lantern we want to get fixed."
"Where will you be staying?" she asked.
"The Northlook," Bjarnson replied.
The deputy looked them over, her frown deepening. "All right," she said reluctantly. "Move the palisade," she said over her shoulder, though she didn't lower her crossbow. "There's a curfew from six to six. We'll arrest you if we see you out at night. Or if you set off any more fireworks! Now move along."
They made their way quickly through the dimly lit streets as the blizzard grew more intense. As they moved into the city, away from the protective walls, the wind and snow swirled around them. They dropped the dogs at the kennel, though Haol stayed with Zariel for now. The staff at the kennels were informed -- and paid extra -- to let him come and go as he pleased.
They took two rooms at the Northlook, which Dejen protected with his alarm spells, and then took some time to sit by the fire and drink hot tea to chase off the chill. Finally, they split into two groups to better run their errands.
Dejen, Bjarnson and Lulu headed off together to see Dannika Graysteel and see if she could repair the Northern Light's lantern; Dejen hadn't had any luck figuring out how it worked. He also wanted to check in with Beldora, and Pariah asked him to see if there was any news from her about Mere.
Pariah, Zariel, and Haol headed to the speaker's residence, stopping first to see if Pariah could sell off the loot she had gotten from Sunblight. They checked in at Blackiron Blades and at two merchants running stalls in the marketplace, one selling dried fish and the other fur pelts. Unfortunately, as Pariah suspected, nobody was interested in luxury items. In Baldur's Gate, she estimated she could have gotten over a thousand gold dragons for these items. Here, they were worth almost nothing.
Well, that wasn't completely true. She could pry out the gems and use those for future trade.
With that out of the way, they headed to the speaker's palace, the private residence of Duvessa Shane. It was a three-story building of cut gray stone with a pitched slate roof and a colonnade out front. The front door was framed in blue marble and had a heavy brass ring knocker hanging from a lion's mouth. The structure looked out of place among the squat, utilitarian buildings around it, like it had been transported from some other place in Faerûn. A gate to the side led to a walled-in backyard. The wall was too high for Pariah to see over.
They mounted the white stone steps. Blowing snow was building up at the base of the columns and there were patches of ice on the steps. Haol stayed in the street, standing sentry in the wind as the other two approached the door. Zariel grabbed the brass ring and knocked it against the metal plate twice.
Pariah wasn't sure the knock had been heard over the sound of the blizzard overhead, but it didn't take long before the door opened slightly and an elven man looked out at them, his hazel eyes darting back and forth between their faces. "May I help you?" he asked.
Zariel smiled at him. "Zariel and Pariah to see Speaker Shane. We bring news about the recent dragon attack and the situation in the eastern towns."
He pursed his lips as he carefully studied their faces, and then he opened the door and stepped back, motioning for them to enter.
They came into a brightly decorated foyer with coat hooks along one wall and a bench along the other. A sitting room was visible through a doorway across from the entrance.
The man had curly auburn hair and wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. Pariah knew enough about elves to realized that slight sign of age made him very old indeed. Under a flowing tan cape trimmed with white fur he wore nicely tailored wool clothing of light blue and deep purple. A rapier hung from his leather belt. The pommel and knuckle guard were polished to a sheen, though the leather grip showed a hint of wear.
"Wait here while I see if the speaker is receiving," he said politely before gliding out of the room. He moved with a grace and litheness that reminded Pariah of Lythienne, like the movements of a dancer.
He was gone only briefly. When he returned he said, "The speaker will see you. Please remove your outerwear and footwear."
They did so. Like in Speaker Siever's house, there were slippers under the bench. Also like in Siever's house, Pariah ignored them, preferring to stay in her socks.
"Follow me," he said.
The sitting room had two overstuffed chairs in front of a fire that burned low in the hearth, a side table, and a window that was currently shuttered. Two paintings of abstract green shapes decorated the wall, and a large earthen pot in one corner held a fairly healthy plant with red berries.
The man led them through a door into an office where Speaker Shane sat behind a desk that held a pair of ledgers, a stack of papers, and an inkpot and quill. Behind her were two bookshelves of stained wood that held dozens of volumes. The elven man motioned towards two wingback chairs in front of the desk with a slight incline of his head.
"Shall I bring tea?" he asked Shane as they sat.
"Yes, I think so, Korasel," the speaker replied.
He glided quietly out of the room.
Shane greeted them with a tired smile. Her eyes looked like she wasn't getting a lot of sleep. "Good morning," she said. "I'm glad you came by. I wanted to congratulate you on the defeat of the duergar incursion. I've already read my agents' reports, but I'm happy to hear about any additional insights you might have. First-person descriptions are always best."
Zariel took the lead, telling the story of their incursion into Sunblight and the pursuit of the dragon. At Zariel's request, Pariah showed Shane the Wrath of Tempus and ignited the blade. Zariel gave a brief overview of the battles, especially the dragon's defeat in Caer-Konig and the subsequent destruction of the black chardalyn.
She talked respectfully about Trovus's vow to stop drinking. Pariah thought that wasn't really the speaker's business, but Shane seemed genuinely pleased to hear the news. She admitted that Trovus was one of her favorite speakers, and was clearly committed to what was best for his town, so she was glad that he had found his way to a healthier lifestyle.
Shane listened grimly to their news about Dougan's Hole. Her own investigator had gone only to the edge of town and, upon seeing no movement or smoke, had moved on to Good Mead. She was relieved to hear about the effort to rebuild the greenhouse, though she knew it was going to be a long time before the town got back to what it had been.
When she was done with those stories, Zariel asked, "Were you aware that Avarice was a Luskan wizard?"
Pariah was pleasantly surprised that the geas didn't prevent her from talking about that. It must only be Levistus's involvement.
Shane nodded. "I was," she replied cautiously.
"On the day of the dragon attack, did you receive a warning? A voice in your head?"
"I did," Shane responded, her eyebrows rising. "Was that her?"
"Yes. We were unsure that she would pass on the warning."
"I didn't know whether to believe it, but we did mobilize for an attack. The message said we'd be last so we waited. When nothing happened, I wasn't sure what to think, but then we got the first reports from Easthaven." She cocked her head. "So she's an ally?"
"I think not," Zariel said carefully. "She has her own goals that may not coincide with yours or ours."
"What are her goals?" Shane asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk.
"She seems to be trying to find the ruins of a Netherese city called Ythryn."
Shane rested her chin on her fist and frowned thoughtfully. "I've heard variations of the tale of an ancient magical city my whole life. Do you think she's onto something?"
"We do, which brings me to my other point. There are apparently at least three other Luskan wizards in the area and we wondered what you knew about them and their efforts." Zariel added in a judgmental tone, "For example, I know you allow the necromancer Vellynne Harpell to walk the streets of Bryn Shander with her undead abominations."
Zariel's disapproval was met with only the slightest raising of Shane's eyebrow. "Sheriff Southwell and I monitor possible threats in the area. While our attention is currently focused on the Aurilite leadership, we are also watching the Luskan wizards. We know that the Arcane Brotherhood rarely bring good fortune with them. One of their brethren, Vaelish Gant, launched a scheme to control all of Ten-Towns from this very office a few years back. It's not uncommon for one or two of them to be poking around looking for magical secrets left by Netheril or the undead wizard Akar Kessel. I am concerned that we are worth the attention of three of them at the same time."
"Four," Zariel said.
"Four?"
"Avarice, Vellynne Harpell, Dzaan, and Nass Lantomir."
Shane made a thoughtful noise. "I haven't heard of that last one." She dug through the papers on her desk as she asked, "What do you know about..." She paused and glanced at Zariel. "...her?"
"Her," Zariel confirmed. "Not much, I'm afraid. We've heard her name a couple of times but that's about all."
Pariah said, "She apparently stole something of Vellynne's. We came across one of her spies -- Vellynne's that is -- in Good Mead."
Shane had pulled out a folder and opened it up in front of her. She stopped her reach for her quill to ask Pariah, "Vellynne has an interest in Good Mead?"
The tiefling shrugged. "I'm not sure; the spy was watching us rather than the town." She grinned smugly. "We've been making trouble."
"So I hear," Shane said dryly. She fetched the quill and started writing on a paper in the folder. "Nass...Lantomir...stole from Vellynne." She looked up. "Do you know anything else about her?"
Pariah looked over at Zariel as she tried to remember what else she had heard. "Uh, I think Avarice said she specialized in divination magic. Oh, and she didn't come with the other three. They were sent as a group. I got the impression that Nass followed them."
Shane noted what she said. "You said you've been making trouble. What specific trouble was Vellynne concerned with?"
Pariah hesitated. She didn't necessarily doubt this woman, other than her natural mistrust of anyone in authority, but she also didn't have any reason to share secrets right at the moment. There was no reason to tell her about the tower they'd found. "No idea," she said with an innocent shrug.
The tiniest of wrinkles appeared between Shane's eyebrows as she considered Pariah's statement. "All right," she said skeptically.
Zariel shifted in her chair but said nothing.
Shane put the quill back in the ink pot and leaned back to look up at the ceiling. "So Avarice is in Caer-Dineval. Vellynne is on the move. Dzaan is dead."
Twice, Pariah thought to herself.
Shane continued, "And Nass is missing. They may or may not be looking for an ancient city. Do you think they have designs on Ten-Towns itself?"
"I'm not sure," Pariah admitted. "Avarice is..."
And then the geas kicked in and her voice froze.
Pariah sighed, but she already knew the trick to get around at least part of the spell. "There is magic that can force you to lie. With that in mind, Avarice and the Black Sword are loyal worshippers of Helm and want nothing but the best for Caer-Dineval."
Shane studied her thoughtfully in silence and then picked up the quill to add to her notes. "That might explain it," she said. "Harvor thought Speaker Siever was suffering from some kind of dementia, which surprised me. The old grump has always had a sharp mind and he was his usual self the last time I spoke with him a few months ago, so I was surprised to hear that."
"Not dementia," Pariah confirmed.
"And does that mean he hasn't been sick?"
Pariah struggled to think of how to phrase the lie she would be forced to tell but make it clear it was a lie. She said, "Remembering what I said before, I'll say this: the speaker was sick. He was the guest of the Black Sword while they nursed him back to health." Intently she added, "Understand?"
Shane puzzled over the statement and then nodded slowly. "I believe so." She drummed her fingers on the desk. "If such a hypothetical spell existed, would getting away from its source weaken it? Allow someone to tell the truth?"
Pariah shook her head. "We haven't found that to be the case."
"I see," the speaker sighed. "I've been trying to arrange a Council of Speakers -- we haven't had one in months. Siever was too sick to travel, though it sounds like maybe he wasn't. Rielsbarrow was killed by verbeegs. Now Froth and Atteberry were killed by the dragon."
Pariah didn't think she'd heard the named Rielsbarrow or Froth before, but guessed they were the last two speakers of Good Mead.
The elven man entered carrying a tray with a black ceramic teapot painted with a scene of white rabbits and snow. There were three cups and saucers of a matching design. They were silent as he poured out each cup and offered milk and honey; Pariah took just the milk. He left the pot and then quietly exited the office, closing the door behind him.
The tea was earthy, and the milk blunted the bitterness. Pariah made an impressed noise as she took a sip. She didn't have much of a palate, but she could tell quality when she tasted it.
Speaker Shane put her cup gently back in the saucer. "Regarding the duergar base in the Spine of the World. What are their plans now?"
Zariel replied, "When we left to chase the dragon, the duergar were planning to retreat back to the Underdark. I believe their fortress is empty now."
"If they did what they said," Pariah observed as she took another sip.
Shane looked at her shrewdly. "You think they were lying?"
Pariah shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have any reason to believe them or not believe them. But we didn't actually see them leave."
Zariel said, "We discovered that the devil Asmodeus was impersonating their god, Deep Duerra, and had been the one inciting them to invade Ten-Towns. We revealed his deception, and helped one of their factions overthrow the duergar leader. The leader of this other faction expressed no interest in remaining above ground, saying they had plenty of opportunities for expansion in the Underdark. I'm inclined to take her at her word."
"I am too," Pariah admitted, "but I'd still rather be cautious." To Zariel she said, "I was thinking we might want to head out there and check it ourselves."
"I had thought the same," the woman nodded.
"But I don't know if we will," Pariah said to Shane.
Shane picked up her tea again. "What are your current plans?" she asked over the rim of the cup.
"We're not sure," Pariah replied. "We are headed to Termalaine to touch base with a friend there. We have an uneasy alliance with Avarice; she claims to be willing to help stop the Everlasting Rime."
"And do you believe her?"
Pariah and Zariel exchanged a glance. Pariah said, "I don't know. I think -- no, I know -- there's more than she's admitting. But she's serving someone else, not her own interests."
"You said her group worships Helm."
Pariah smirked. "Yes, that's what the magic makes me say." Then she grew more serious as she said, "So we are waiting to see if Avarice has some idea what the next step is."
Zariel added, "I serve the Morninglord and have received occasional guidance from him. He wishes to return his blessing to Icewind Dale."
"We'd be happy to have it," Shane said.
Pariah finished her tea and put down the cup. "Speaking of the Rime, how have the Aurilites been lately? Making much trouble?"
Shane's face clouded. "They got riled up after their priest, Malari Janus, died. They got riled up after that brief period of sunlight, claiming it was blaspheming the Frostmaiden's power. Now they are riled up as word of the dragon attack spreads, claiming the dragon was sent by Auril as punishment for said blasphemy. They are pressuring me to increase the sacrifices to once a tenday."
"Are you going to?" Pariah asked sharply.
The speaker sighed. "At the moment, no, but their support is growing. I thought they had gotten as many zealots as they were going to, but fear is spreading and more people are flocking to their faith. I'm considering implementing sacrifices of warmth twice a month in addition to the lottery, but I don't know if that will appease them."
"What about Auril?" Pariah asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You said 'appease them' meaning the people. What about appeasing Auril?"
Shane scowled. "I want to say none of this matters to her, that she's just going to do what she's going to do regardless of how we react. But I can't help but remember that when the sacrifice in Targos was interfered with, the town was hit with a severe, localized blizzard. And when Janus was killed, we suffered a storm as well. Auril is paying attention, so we have to find some way to show our respect, preferably short of sacrificing the entire town to her."
Pariah stared down at her hands gloomily, running her fingertips together to feel the burn scars. She wanted to end this, find some way to stop Auril. She didn't want to trust Levistus or Avarice, but she didn't have any other ideas for allies.
"Is there anything else?" Shane asked.
"I don't believe so," Zariel said, looking at Pariah. The tiefling shook her head.
Shane leaned back in her chair. "If you have no other immediate plans, would you be willing to take a trip out to Revel's End? Then Luskan wizard Vaelish Gant is incarcerated out there. It's been..." She looked up at the ceiling. "...ten years?...since he was locked up, so he's not likely to know much, but maybe he could provide insight into the motivations of the other members of the Arcane Brotherhood, and how much of a threat they are to Ten-Towns. I'll send a letter to the warden with you that should get you admission. I can offer your group...oh let's say two hundred and fifty dragons for your trouble."
"Why would he help?" Pariah asked.
Shane replied, "I'll petition the Lords' Alliance to cut a few years off of his sentence. That should be worth something to him."
"And how far is it?"
"About a day's ride from Termalaine by dog sled, if the weather is good."
Pariah would verify that with Bjarnson, but it seemed about right to her based on her growing familiarity with the area. It seemed like a long shot, but they didn't have any more fruitful objectives.
Pariah looked at Zariel who said, "I'm not averse to the idea."
"I'd want to talk to the others about it," Pariah said.
"I understand," Shane said. "Come by and let me know before you leave town and I'll give you what you need." She stood up and said, "If there's nothing else?" her tone making it clear their meeting was over.
"I think that's it," Pariah said, looking at Zariel.
The other woman stood and said to the speaker, "Thank you for the tea. We'll come by with our answer, probably later today."
Notes:
Pariah has been studying Animal Handling with Bjarnson, and has now earned proficiency.
Those luxury items from Sunblight are worth 1500 gp, but I can't justify anyone in this environment having the money they need. I gave them 500 gp in gems they can use as currency, and the rest is worthless.
There was also the platinum hookah they left behind because it was so bulky. That was worth 2500 by itself...but set off a vicious poison gas trap, so it's just as well she decided to leave it behind. That wasn't my reason at the time; it just seemed silly to lug this big hookah into a combat situation. The lack of massive poison damage was a bonus.
Then again, there isn't really anything to spend money on.
Finally, while self-Googling this week, I discovered someone posted a snippet conversation between Pariah and Jander Sunstar on TV Tropes under Hero of Another Story. Thanks, whoever you are!
Chapter 129: Hypothermia
Summary:
The group heads towards Termalaine hoping to convince Eberic to rejoin them.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 2, 1496 (2 days after the Full Moon)
After leaving the speaker's house, Pariah and Zariel had visited Copper. He was doing better, though his mood was still grim, in part because he wasn't that busy so he often just sat and stewed. He was debating about heading to Easthaven, reasoning that there was probably plenty to do helping with the reconstruction.
When they all gathered back at the Northlook, Dejen told them that Beldora had been interested in his first-hand account of their invasion of the duergar fortress and their dragon hunt, but had been able to offer no additional information on anything else going on in the area, including Vellynne Harpell's movements. The necromancer had briefly been through Bryn Shander a few days before but hadn't stayed the night.
He had asked about Mere and she said he was settling in, though there wasn't much in the way of work in town so he was still depending on the kindness of strangers. Pariah wondered if the reconstruction in Easthaven or the other towns might be an opportunity for him, but he might not want to leave the people he'd gotten to know here.
Dejen also said that Dannika Graysteel had agreed to try to fix the lantern from the Northern Light. Dejen had offered to pay her but she had refused, saying it was such an icon to all of Ten-Towns that it would be her pleasure to do it for free.
She had also taken back the elemental-detecting lantern from Dejen. He had been disappointed, but she told him that she had some ideas about improving it. She was still on the lookout for chwingas, though she was starting to think the secret to the Everlasting Rime might not rest with them after all. It would be a few days before the two lanterns were ready.
That evening, Dejen had broached the subject of letting Dannika examine their Netherese artifacts. She seemed quite knowledgeable about magical items and might be able to discover important information. Pariah wasn't sure how good an idea that was. The potential power or wealth that could come from Netherese secrets could be a potent corrupting influence.
Zariel was in favor of it. Bjarnson sided with Pariah's caution. In the end, they decided to leave the decision for later. They'd have to come back to pick up the lanterns anyhow, so they'd think about it in the interim.
Besides, they hoped that Eberic would be with them when they came back, and could be included in the discussion.
With no reason to stay in Bryn Shander, they had decided to continue on to Termalaine the following day to visit Eberic and Marrit. It was ideal timing because Torg's would be in Targos for the moment but would be arriving in Bryn Shander soon. There was no reason to cross paths with them if they could avoid it.
Nobody had been excited about the idea of visiting Revel's End but, like Pariah, couldn't think of any other ideas, or any strong reason not to take Speaker Shane up on her offer. Pariah and Zariel had returned to her residence to give her an answer, and she had supplied them with two sealed letters: one for the warden, and one for Vaelish Gant.
They woke up to discover that a heavy mist had settled into the area, so Bjarnson suggested waiting until what passed for dawn in the area. Unfortunately, the thick fog persisted even after the sky lightened. The road was sufficiently well marked that he didn't think they should wait any longer for it to clear, so they set off.
Fog was probably Pariah's least favorite weather in the area. Blizzards were more dramatic, but fog was more disorienting. The mist not only made it hard to see, but it swallowed sound and enveloped them in a disturbing silence. The scream of wind was less bothersome than the empty nothingness.
The fact that it reminded her of her brief stint as a spirit in the Border Ethereal just made it worse.
To keep her mind off of things, Pariah was listening to Dejen prattle on about magical theories. She was interested in the subject, but he tended to talk too fast and jump from point to point so he was hard to follow. The gist of it is that ever since they had been stymied by the sealing spell Xardorok had used on the door as he was fleeing, Dejen had been looking for ways to unbind enchantments. He hadn't figured out a way to do it on demand like his other magic, but he had prepared some anti-magic crossbow bolts. These were real bolts, unlike the phantom bolts he usually attached his spells to. They had arcane symbols written on them and they should disrupt magic in whatever they hit. Unfortunately, he hadn't tested it because he'd managed to enchant only two bolts and he didn't want to waste one.
The sled suddenly swerved to the left and Pariah heard an aggressive squawk from Haol who was ahead of them. She snapped her head up to see the that Bjarnson was trying to avoid running into the axe beak, who was rearing up in surprise while Zariel struggled to keep in the saddle. Ahead of them was a mound in the middle of the road, barely visible in the fog.
Bjarnson brought the sled to a stop, calling out, "Whoa! Whoa!" towards the dogs. As soon as they were stationary, Pariah dismounted. The road got enough traffic that the snow beneath her boots was fairly firm, though she sunk a finger's breadth into the surface. She debated about drawing her sword but decided to leave it sheathed.
"What's going on?" she called out to Zariel, her voice strangely muffled by the thick mist around them. She grabbed her shield from the sled and started to advance.
"I don't know," the other woman said. "These people are blocking the road."
As Pariah got closer she realized the mound was made of a half-dozen small, humanoid shapes in a tight group. They were wrapped in tattered fur pelts and threadbare wool. Pariah remembered the goblins they had encountered on their first day here; they had worn poor quality clothing and armor.
She looked around, worried this was an ambush, but couldn't see more than a few feet into the fog. "Lulu," she said to the asteri who had poked her head out of Pariah's cloak, "fly around and see if anyone is hiding."
"Okay," Lulu replied. She turned invisible and flew off.
Zariel had calmed Haol. She looked down on the huddled people and said, "Are you all right? Do you need assistance?"
There was only silence. None of the shapes moved.
Pariah was near to them now. "Keep an eye out," Pariah said to Zariel while keeping watch on the figures in front of her.
She knelt down next to them. They were all huddled together, covering themselves as best they could with their ratty outerwear. She couldn’t see anything to identify whoever...or whatever...was beneath the clothing.
"Hey," she said again. "Are you alive in there?"
She reached out to put a hand on the nearest one. She felt a bony shoulder under the thin wool. The little bit of muscle she could feel was cold and hard. She pushed back the hood to reveal a scaly snout. The unmoving form was that of a kobold, not a goblin.
She jumped when it opened its eye.
"Cold," it said weakly.
"Talona's tits," she breathed. "Dejen, bring the warming stone! And the coffee bottle!" She took off her fur cloak and put it around two of them, though she knew that wouldn't help. The few kobolds she'd met in Baldur's Gate always struggled with winter temperatures. Their bodies weren't warm inside, like humans or tieflings. They were cold like lizards so needed external heat.
She looked at the others, peeking beneath hoods or the one thin blanket they had. They were all kobolds. Their scales were red, like the few she'd seen in Termalaine, though their color was darker than she'd seen before. None of them were moving and none of them had puffs of misty breath coming from their mouths, but she could feel the movement of air on the back of her hand when she held it up to their snouts.
The comforting warmth of the stone washed over them and she heard Dejen's footsteps in the snow behind her. She turned and reached out for the bottle. It should be full. They had been using the warming stone on the trip so hadn't needed the hot coffee to stay warm.
She opened the bottle and waved it in front of their noses. "Are any of you awake? I have hot coffee."
Two of them stirred, one being the one who had spoken before. He reached out sluggishly to grab the vessel but he couldn't get a grip. He slowly brought out his other hand and held the bottle weakly. She helped him guide it to his mouth. "Just drink a little. Just a swallow. You'll all have to share."
Pariah was relieved when the other kobolds started to stir. It looked like they were all alive, but they were lethargic and disoriented. She kept a hand on the coffee bottle to steady it as each took a swallow or two.
Lulu came back during this time and reported that she hadn't found anyone else around, which didn't surprise Pariah. This obviously hadn't been an ambush.
"Where are you from?" Pariah asked.
"Mine," the kobold said, his eyes closed.
Pariah was puzzled, thinking he was claiming the coffee bottle, but then she realized what he meant. "You mean the mine in Termalaine?"
He nodded.
"Why are you here?" she asked. "Where were you headed?"
"Looking for god," he sighed.
"You came damn close to finding him," Pariah said, confused by his answer.
"Her."
"Her?" Pariah said, suddenly feeling suspicious. "You mean Auril?"
The bottle made its way back to him and he went to take a drink, but it was empty. He looked at it with a disappointed gaze and then handed it back to Pariah. "No. She Who Soars."
That didn't help her. "Who?" she asked.
He pointed to the sky. "She Who Soars. She flies above us, overseeing her kingdom. We want to serve her."
Pariah looked up but there was nothing but fog overhead.
Bjarnson said, "He means Arveiaturace. Some of the kobolds think she's a god."
"She is a god," the kobold said, closing his eyes again. "She is more powerful than any creature in this land."
"That last part is probably true," Bjarnson admitted.
Pariah said, "But that doesn't answer my question. Where were you going? Where specifically?"
"To the great ice barrier. We will find her there and serve her."
"She'll probably just eat you," Bjarnson said sourly.
"It would be an honor to be devoured by her," the kobold said sleepily.
And with that, they were all unconscious again.
Pariah settled back on her heels and sighed as she looked down at the fragile little figures dressed in tattered clothing. "We can't just leave them here," she said.
"I agree," said Zariel.
"I suppose," Bjarnson sighed. He looked towards the sled. "We could stack them with the luggage. It won't be comfortable for any of us, but it's only about an hour to Termalaine."
"That won't be hard on the dogs?" Pariah asked.
He shook his head. He waved towards the kobolds. "Look at them. They barely weigh anything. It'll slow the team down a hair but not enough to matter. And it won't tire them over this short a distance."
Dejen said, "They may not appreciate being brought back to Termalaine."
Bjarnson snorted. "Then they can set out on their suicidal quest again, but maybe with better furs this time. Or firewood. Or a tent. Or food."
Pariah realized that the kobolds appeared to have no possessions at all. It really was just them, their tattered clothing, and a single, thin blanket. They wouldn't have made it to Bryn Shander much less all the way to the Reghed Glacier. "I wonder why they left," she said. "It sounded like Termalaine had accepted them into the town."
"Better to serve a god than to toil in the mines," Zariel said.
Pariah wasn't sure if she was giving her opinion or quoting scripture, but it didn't matter. As much as she thought people should be allowed to make their own mistakes, there was no way she was going to leave them to freeze out here. "Let's load them up," she said as she stood.
Trying to arrange five unmoving kobolds, two humans, a tiefling, and all their belongings on the sled was a harder problem than they had anticipated. Under other circumstances one of the kobolds could have ridden with Zariel, but they needed to keep them in the radius of the warming stone, and the axe beak couldn't carry two human-sized riders.
In the end, Bjarnson was able to tie their backpacks to the sides of the sled. It was unbalanced and probably wouldn't have worked over a long journey, but it would get them to the next town. Pariah and Dejen stood awkwardly among the sleeping kobolds that had been laid on the floor of the sled, trying not to accidentally step on them.
The kobolds stirred slightly during this time but they mostly slept. Pariah was worried that they were beyond help. None of them knew much about kobold biology, but Bjarnson said that reptiles suffering from the cold often took hours in a warm place to recover. He didn't think they needed healing, just warmth and time.
Once they got moving, Bjarnson kept their speed a little slower. He had told Pariah and Dejen to keep an eye on the packs in case they started to slip.
Pariah asked, "What are we going to do with them when we get to town? Somehow I don't think Eberic will want them in his house, though Marrit might be willing."
Bjarnson said, "We could pay for them to stay a night at the inn. That should be enough time for them to recover. After that..." he shrugged. "They must have had some kind of home in Termalaine. They can go back or they can try again."
"Maybe this trip helped them appreciate what they had," Pariah mused. She glanced ahead of them, where Zariel and Haol were barely visible in the fog. "Despite what Zariel said, sometimes toiling for food and shelter is better than dying chasing dreams."
Dejen leaned in and asked in a quiet voice, "Do you think they could be working for Vellynne? She had kobolds when we met her before."
Pariah frowned down at their guests. "I doubt it," she said. "Not every kobold works for her just like not every tiefling is part of the Black Sword," she added with a hint of rebuke in her voice.
He didn't seem to pick up on her tone. He said, "It's an odd coincidence considering what happened in Good Mead."
"True," she admitted, "but I do think it is just a coincidence." She turned towards their driver. "Bjarnson, do you think you could ask nature after we get to town? Does it tell you that kind of thing?"
He made a thoughtful noise. "I can try," he said. "I'm not sure how much the wind knows about politics and intrigue."
She grinned, unsure if he was joking or not. "Doesn't hurt to ask."
To be fair, she admitted to herself, if Vellynne did have a large number of kobolds, the raid on the mine might have been her attempt to gain power over Termalaine and the gem trade across Ten-Towns. And maybe her agent, in addition to spying on their group, had been in Good Mead looking to take control of the honey and mead production. From what little Dejen had said about the Arcane Brotherhood, it seemed like the kind of thing they'd do.
It might be worth questioning the kobolds once they woke up, though she was still fairly certain the events were unrelated. But maybe without Zariel's divine truth spell. Pariah knew the woman meant well, but magic that removed your ability to make your own decisions always made her skin crawl.
The road passed near the edge of the lake where water lapped at the shore. This was one of the few spots in Ten-Towns where hot springs kept the water by the shore above freezing. That meant they were getting close to Termalaine, and it wasn't much longer until a line of shapes in the mist indicated the edge of town.
Zariel stopped Haol and waited for the sled to catch up. "Do you want to take the dogs to the kennel?" she asked.
The kennel was to their right. They couldn't see it through the fog though they could hear the distant sound of barking.
Bjarnson looked down at their unconscious passengers. "Not yet. Let's drop them at The Eastside and then I'll bring the sled back. Is Haol going to stay in the kennel or come with us?"
"If we are going to stay with Eberic and Marrit, he will come with us and stay in the shed in the back." She hesitated and added, "But I'm unsure if we will be welcome there. If I will be welcome there."
Pariah hadn't thought of that. "Let's start with the inn," she suggested. "Then we can go to Eberic's and plan from there."
"Very well," Zariel said. She looked into the fog and said uncertainly, "The inn is..."
"I'll lead," Bjarnson said. "We'll be at a walk so there won't be a big spray of snow." That's the reason Zariel had been leading.
Pariah was pretty sure she knew where The Eastside was, but the thick fog made it hard to navigate. She didn't know the town well, and everything looked even more unfamiliar. Thankfully, Bjarnson had a good sense of direction and it wasn't long before they reached the cluster of four cottages that had been converted into an inn.
Each of them carried one of the kobolds. Zariel carried two, one in the crook of each arm, and they sleepily held to her like children clinging to their mother. Bjarnson, who had slung his passenger over his shoulder, led them to the entrance and into the first cottage. The room inside was welcoming, though it felt a little chilly despite the fire in the hearth. Chairs and tables faced the fireplace. The walls were covered in paintings, tapestries and scrimshaw; Pariah spotted a couple of pieces she was pretty sure were Marrit's.
There were seven people in the room, relaxing in front of the fire and chatting amiably. They looked up in curiosity as the newcomers entered and, once the scene registered, there was an immediate sense of concern. "What happened here?" asked a dark-skinned man with a bristly mustache and wavy, black hair as he hurried over. A dwarven couple -- a gray-haired man in worn leather armor, and a woman with an overbite and bushy eyebrows -- stood and came over as well.
Bjarnson carried his burden towards the fire and the people there vacated the seats nearest the heat. "Found 'em near dead on the road," he said as he sat the kobold in a chair, carefully positioning him so he wouldn't fall over.
"I'll get Marta," said another woman and she hurried out through one of the doors.
The group brought the other kobolds over to the fire, either sitting them in chairs or laying them on benches. The one Pariah was carrying opened his eyes slightly and made a wordless noise, but then closed his eyes again.
Marta, the blonde, willowy teenage girl who ran the inn, came into the room. She was carrying a steaming kettle and the woman who'd gone to fetch her was carrying several mugs.
"Clear the way, clear the way," Marta said firmly, and the bystanders moved aside. She put the kettle on the hearth near the fire and then knelt down to examine one of the kobolds. "Oh my, oh my. You're not feeling very well are you." She reached up to touch this one's face -- this was one of the two females in the group -- and furrow her brow in concern.
Bjarnson asked, "Do any of you recognize them? They said they were from the mines but that was about it."
The crowd exchanged glances with a collection of shrugs and mumbles.
"We can go ask at the mines," said a man from the crowd. "See if anyone is missing them."
Bjarnson said, "We thought we could drop them here, pay for their night's stay so they can recover. And we aren't sure of our accommodations. We might have a place to stay in town, but we might need a couple of rooms for the night."
Marta looked up at the ceiling in thought. "I think I have four rooms open right now. I could put them in two and save the other two for you if you need it." She turned to the man who had spoken a moment ago. "Run to the mines and ask around. If nothing else, the kobolds there will know better what kind of care these ones need right now."
"Right," the man said and headed for the coat rack by the door to grab his cloak before heading out.
"Thank you for bringing them back," Marta said to the group. "We'll take care of them."
After all the death and destruction they had seen, Pariah was pleased to see the town rallying behind these scaly newcomers. Nobody in the room seemed to be hesitating to help just because these people looked different. It was a comforting reminder that it wasn't all devils and dragons and invading armies.
"We'll come back to check," Bjarnson said as he stood. To the group he added, "The rest of you head to Eberic's and I'll take the sled to the kennel."
Notes:
Dejen's anti-magic crossbow bolts are "scrolls" of dispel magic.
Per the wiki, although both dragonborn and actual dragons are warm blooded, kobolds are cold blooded. So I looked up hypothermia in reptiles to get an idea of what symptoms they'd show (darker color, cold to the touch, stiff body).
Under my sort-of-Gritty-Realism rules, I've decided that augury and divination are "once per day" rather than "once per long rest" -- and I know they aren't technically "once per long rest" but you know what I mean. The point is, the characters aren't going to spam these spells constantly, so let Bjarnson watch the sky for omens when it feels appropriate.
I had an interesting situation this week on one of my older stories, "A Rising Cataclysm". Someone posted a nice comment on the final chapter and asked a fairly specific question about the MC, Cataclysm. We got into a nice conversation about the character, and about how Cataclysm and Pariah are alike and how they are different.
Then their latest comment ended with "Did you ever imagine what these characters might look like visually? Like, do you have a clear image of them in your mind? Also, if you're comfortable, could be move to a different social for better communication?"
And I thought, "Aw crap."
I looked at the account: recently created, profile pic of an attractive woman, pic is hosted on Snapchat. The account even has "artista" in the name. In other words, it's an AI art scammer. Probably ran the last chapter or two through an LLM to come up with the questions, and then is going to type a few sentences into Midjourney and charge me for the resulting picture.
Disappointing.
Chapter 130: Bitter Reunion
Summary:
After rescuing a group of kobolds who were freezing out on the road, the adventurers arrive outside of Eberic's house.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 2, 1496 (2 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah, Zariel and Dejen stood in the road outside of Eberic and Marrit's house. Bjarnson had taken the sled to the kennel and Lulu was with him. Haol was here standing next to Zariel.
They silently watched the house, each waiting for one of the others to walk up to the door.
"Maybe I should take a room at the inn," Zariel said. "My presence might complicate things."
"No," Pariah said firmly. "We do this together. We talk about the future of this group together. I don't even like Bjarnson not being here, but he'll join us later. We are not going to exclude you."
She glanced over at the other two. Zariel certainly shouldn't knock at the door. Dejen probably wasn't the best idea either if Eberic was still mad about him activating Ulis the last time they had stayed at the house. That just left her, so Pariah took a breath and started towards the gray brick house.
She removed her fur mitten to knock on the door with burn-scarred knuckles. She was surprised by how nervous she was as she waited, straining to hear any sound of movement from inside.
The door opened inward to reveal a slim dwarven man with sad, brown eyes, and graying black hair and beard that were a little shaggy and unkempt. He looked up at Pariah, and then looked past her at her companions. He scowled as he saw Zariel, but he grunted noncommittally, opened the door a fraction wider, and turned to walk into the living room. "Marrit!" he called out. "Company!"
Pariah blew out a sigh of relief. He hadn't slammed the door in their faces. That was a start.
They came into the brick-floored entry area and started to shed their furs and boots. A dwarven woman with wavy black hair that hung loosely to her waist came around the corner of the L-shaped living room. Her face lit up when she saw who their guests were. "Hi!" she said cheerfully as she came hurrying over to greet them. "I'm so pleased to see you are all well." Her smile faded slightly as her eyes brushed past Zariel. She didn't look unhappy to see the woman, but did seem a little nervous. Her eyes searched the group and she said anxiously, "You are all well, right?"
Realizing there were members of their group missing, Pariah added, "Bjarnson and Lulu are at the kennel. They'll be by in a bit."
"Wonderful," Marrit said with relief. "Can I get everyone some tea or coffee? Have you eaten? We just finished lunch, but I could prepare some plates if you're hungry."
"Just coffee for me," Pariah said glancing at the others. She was a little hungry since it was nearly time for the mid-afternoon sunset, but sitting for a meal could be complicated right now. It might be best to gauge the level of welcome first.
The other two asked for tea and Marrit disappeared around the corner towards the kitchen.
Pariah was first into the living room, walking across the drab brown rugs towards the pine bench with mismatched seat cushions that faced the fireplace on the inner corner of the L.
Around the corner was more seating, a wall full of Marrit's scrimshaw art, and the doorways to the kitchen and bedrooms. Eberic was, as she had expected, sitting in one of the two rocking chairs that faced the fire. He was puffing on the pipe he had gotten from Trovus; she was pleased he'd hung onto it.
Pariah walked past him to stand in the kitchen doorway. "Need any help?" she asked Marrit, who was taking three mugs down from the cupboard.
"No, thank you," she said. "How are you doing? Eberic said you took a bad hit to your leg or something."
"Better," Pariah said. "I'm still a little stiff, but I'm not walking funny anymore." She glanced over at the male dwarf and then back at Marrit. "How's Eberic's leg?" she asked the woman, knowing Eberic would just say he was fine.
"Mostly healed," she said. "He's been taking it easy. He's..." She trailed off as she glanced towards the wall, roughly in the direction where her husband was sitting. In a lower voice she said, "He's been spending a lot of time thinking."
Pariah considered stepping into the kitchen to have a quiet conversation with Marrit to see what she thought about the Zariel situation, but decided it would be better for them to all talk together. Zariel and Dejen were sitting on the bench, so Pariah took one of the chairs on the other side of the two rocking chairs that were the centerpiece of the room. They sat in an uncomfortable silence until she asked, "So, how was the trip home?"
"Fine," Eberic said, staring into the fire.
"Did you stop at Dwarven Valley on the way?"
"No."
Pariah looked towards the other two for help. Zariel was sitting stiffly, radiating discomfort, and Dejen was staring at the art on the wall. She wasn't sure if he was actually interested in the pieces, or if he was avoiding the awkward atmosphere.
So she launched into a description of their trip to the other towns. Marrit brought their drinks around and then joined them, sitting in the other rocking chair with her own steaming mug. Pariah sipped on the earthy mushroom coffee while she talked. By the time she finished her tale, Bjarnson and Lulu had joined them. The others contributed to the story from time to time, except for Zariel who remained silent.
Marrit was saddened by Pariah's description of the death and destruction, horrified by what they had found in Dougan's Hole, and pleased by the efforts to rebuild the greenhouse in Good Mead. Eberic stared into the fire the whole time, not reacting. His pipe eventually went out and he put it on the side table rather than refilling it.
When Pariah was finished, Marrit asked, "What are your plans now?"
"We're not sure," the tiefling admitted, glancing over at the others. "At the moment we're just resting and healing up. We're going to go talk to a wizard in Revel's End for Bryn Shander's speaker, but that's about the Arcane Brotherhood activities in the area. We are still looking for a way to stop the Everlasting Rime." She sighed. "One of the Brotherhood is in Caer-Dineval , and she might have some ideas, but we don't trust her."
Marrit looked over at her husband with concern; he was still staring into the fire. "Yes," she said, "Eberic has told me a little about what's going on there. I'm not sure working with her is the best option."
"I agree," Pariah said emphatically, "but we don't have any other ideas. It's, what, two weeks away from another round of sacrificing people to Auril." She frowned as she tried to remember. "When is the next sacrifice of warmth here in Termalaine?"
"It was last night," Marrit said. "The first, and every tenday after that. You arrived just in time for everything to be warmed up again."
Dejen asked, "Did the two extra days from Midsummer and Shieldmeet disrupt the schedule?"
"Well, yes," she said. "The first Midsummer after the Rime started there was a lot of debate in the town about what to do, but we decided to go eleven days between the 21st and the 1st and hope it was enough. There didn't seem to be any retribution, so we did the same last year. However, there was concern that twelve days would be too long, especially considering some of the others things that have been happening lately like the storm that struck after the death of the Aurilite priest in Bryn Shander, and the dragon attack that people fear was sent by Auril, even though Eberic has been insisting the duergar were behind it. People also wondered if that day of relief last month might have angered Auril further. With all that, it was decided better to be safe, so we did an extra night on the..." She looked at Eberic. "The 27th?"
He made a grunt that could have meant anything.
"Yes, the 27th," she said.
"I guess that seems reasonable," Pariah said, though she could feel her expression turning sour at the thought of kissing up to an immortal bully.
"Better than the lottery," Eberic mumbled.
"The lottery?" Pariah said in alarm. "Are they talking about starting a lottery here?"
Marrit made indecisive noises before saying, "There has been talk of it all along. Most of the towns like Lonelywood or Bremen are just too small to manage a lottery. It's only the three largest towns that have done it. Termalaine is smaller than those three, but much larger than the other towns. Oarus and Shaelen have been adamant it will never happen here, though there is more support for the idea than there used to be."
"And who are they?" Pariah asked.
"Oarus is the current speaker and his mother, Shaelen, was the previous one and still has a lot of influence in town." She leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I think she has dirt on most of the business owners in town because nearly all of them are opposed to the lottery, even though some say it with a face like they are eating chokecherries."
"But you say more people are in support?"
Marrit leaned back in her rocking chair again. "More than before, but if you're asking whether a lottery is going to start, I'd say absolutely not."
"That's good," Pariah sighed in relief.
Dejen asked, "What do the dwarves do? We've heard about the towns, but what does Dwarven Valley do to appease Auril?"
Again, Eberic made a grunt, though this one was clearly defiant.
"They don't try to appease her," Marrit said, a note of pride in her voice. "Auril can't reach them underground. She could bury the valley in storms, and they'd just retreat further into their tunnels. They trust that the Morndinsamman will protect them."
Pariah asked, "That's the dwarven gods, right?"
Marrit nodded. "The further underground the dwarves go, the closer to the gods they get. Auril will never be able to threaten them."
Pariah knew the underground had its own threats, as evidenced by the recent Asmodeus-backed incursion from the Underdark, but didn't see any reason to point that out.
"Speaking of dwarven defiance of the gods," Pariah said, seizing the moment, "that brings me to the main reason we are here. We still have a fight ahead of us, in fact probably several. Eberic, you've had some time to think about things and we are hoping you'd agree to rejoin us. Help us stop Auril and the Everlasting Rime."
Eberic looked up from the fire to scowl at Zariel. His gaze then went from face to face across the group before returning to stare into the hearth. Marrit watched him and then reached out to take his hand.
"Fine," he grumped.
Marrit smiled at him and squeezed his fingers.
Pariah was stunned. She had been wracking her brain for days trying to think of what to say. She had scribbled in her journal every night, trying to come up with reasons for him to stay, for him to give Zariel another chance or at least to continue to help them for the sake of Ten-Towns. She had a whole speech prepared.
She hadn't expected that he'd just agree.
"O...okay," Pariah stammered. "That's...good to hear." This wasn't how this scene had played out in her head, and she wasn't prepared for it.
Zariel said nervously, "Thank you. I will do everything I can to make sure you don't regret this decision."
He glowered at her again before snorting and returning his gaze to the fire.
"Well, now that that's all settled," Marrit said, "how about if I go ahead and prepare you all something to eat."
They ate a simple lunch of fermented raw knucklehead, seaweed and carrots, all served cold. Dejen was a little hesitant and seemed to eat only out of courtesy. Pariah knew some people balked at raw meat, worried it could make you sick, but she trusted the locals to know how to do it right.
They finally got Eberic to tell them that his trip back to Termalaine had been "fine", his leg injury was "fine", the sled dogs he'd borrowed from the group were "fine". That last bit was true at least since Bjarnson had found them at the kennel and confirmed that they were healthy.
Eberic was more sullen and taciturn than before. Pariah was trying to be patient, as the truth of Zariel's past was a lot to adjust to, but even over the course of the meal, his petulance was beginning to wear on her.
Marrit gossiped about the things that had happened in town since their last visit, but it was all inconsequential stories about minor injuries, good and bad fishing hauls, and domestic squabbles. There had been no attacks, no storms worse than the usual blizzards, no mysterious thefts by invisible duergar. There was a bit more noise from the Aurilites in town, but nothing that worried her.
After hearing the story about the kobolds they had found on the road, she said she had heard rumors that a few of them were restless and unhappy about the grunt work they were doing. She hadn't heard anything about worshiping Arveiaturace, but admitted she didn't know much about them.
The sky had grown dark outside when Zariel said, "I know I'm still recovering from my injuries so I think I'd like to rest. I thank you for your hospitality but..." She turned to the rest of the group and continued, "...I think it would be best if we stayed tonight at the inn."
Pariah was surprised by the comment, but only because she hadn't really thought it through. Although the day had gone better than the worst she'd imagined, there was still tension in the air. She glanced at the others; Bjarnson and Eberic also seemed uncertain so were looking around in the same way.
Marrit looked over at her husband and said reluctantly, "I suppose that might be best." Then she added, "Although if they don't have room..."
Zariel assured her, "The young lady who runs the inn has already put aside rooms for us. We shall be fine."
"Come back tomorrow," insisted Marrit. "Around noon. I'll have a better meal prepared and you can talk about when you want to run up to the prison."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully. It would have made sense to leave in the morning, but one more day of rest sounded appealing. Gant had been in prison for ten years, so he wasn't likely to know anything important, and another day wouldn't matter.
She was frustrated that this trip wasn't going to help them stop the Everlasting Rime, but she could think of no other goals. They could travel around to all the towns and see if anyone had any thoughts, but that was likely to be a waste of time. Everyone had ideas about what the Rime was, but nobody seemed to have a plan for how to stop it. All she knew is that she wanted advice from anyone but Levistus, even from an evil wizard serving a life sentence in prison.
Marrit got up to see them to the door and chatted with them while they put on their outerwear. Eberic stayed in the kitchen; Pariah sighed quietly in his direction. There was still some work to be done there.
Haol was patiently waiting for them outside. The fog had mostly burned off and the sky was clear and quiet. The brutal cold was definitely easier to endure when the wind was calm.
"Do you think it will stay like this?" Pariah asked, looking up at the starry sky.
Bjarnson looked at the sky and then towards the western horizon. "For a little while," he said. "But I think a bad storm is blowing in. Probably hit late tonight."
He turned towards Haol and asked, "What do you want to do with him?"
The axe beak looked down on him impassively. Zariel said, "I thought he could wait outside the inn while we sleep, though that might not be best if a storm is coming."
"It wouldn't be the best even if the weather was clear," he said. "If people see a lone axe beak, they are going to think he's either wild or an owned one that has gotten out of his pen. They aren't just going to leave him alone. The kennel isn't that far from the inn. Maybe we could convince them to let him come and go." He paused. "Does he get along with other axe beaks? Most of the places we've taken him haven't had any others."
"He does," Zariel said. "They tend to be cautious of him, but not hostile."
"So take him to the kennel?"
Zariel pursed her lips. "I suppose that is best." She spoke to Haol in Enochian.
Bjarnson led the way towards the kennel. There were no lanterns on poles along the streets, but houses commonly had lamps hanging by their front doors that spilled light into the roads. Despite the dim lighting, Lulu lit up Bjarnson's staff -- he had taken it back now that Pariah was walking better -- and he illuminated the way.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the two corrals on the edge of town, each one surrounded by shoulder-high fences of weathered pine. One contained several axe beaks and a single building. The other held over a dozen dogs, three small buildings that probably contained more, and a larger building that Pariah knew was the office.
Zariel said something to Haol in Enochian before she and Lulu entered the gate to the transition area between the road and the dog corral. Dejen and Bjarnson stayed with Haol, but Pariah followed Zariel into the corral. The dogs noticed the visitors and started over, a few of them barking in a friendly way.
Zariel entered the office. "Good evening," she said to someone inside. Pariah stood in the doorway and saw the proprietor, a human man dressed in gray and brown wool. He had a couple days of stubble on his face and his auburn hair was tied into thin braids.
She knew that explaining Haol would take time, so Pariah interjected, "You have a kobold working here, right? Is he around?" She remembered the kobold from their first visit.
The man looked up at her and said, "Yeah, he should be in the kennels." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the smaller buildings.
"Thanks," she said and then closed the door to leave Zariel to explain that her axe beak was actually a celestial spirit who should be allowed to come and go as he pleased.
Pariah headed towards the kennels. The dogs gathered around her as she walked, and she grinned as she reached down to scratch a few heads.
She had to duck down to see into the first of the three kennels; the doors were closer to dog-sized than tiefling-sized. The walls were lined with wooden cubbyholes and several canine heads looked out of them at her. The floor was bare dirt, although she saw some kind of straw-like bedding peering out of the cubbyholes. There was a wide, metal trough at the back. But she didn't see a kobold, so she went to the next one.
She spotted a small fur-clad figure in the second kennel, which was laid out the same as the first. He was emptying a bucket of water into the trough.
"Hey," she said as she bent over to enter the kennel. "Can I ask you a question?"
He turned to face her, and she could see his scaly scout under his hood. "Boss answers all questions," he said in a raspy voice.
"This isn't about the kennel," she said. "Did you hear about the kobolds that were brought in today nearly frozen to death?" Part of the reason she had stopped by was to see if he had been one of them. Not that she knew this one, but he was one of the few she'd met in town.
"Yeah," he said.
"Did you know them?"
"Yeah."
She hesitated, not sure what she wanted to ask here. She was trying to make sense of what happened. "We're the ones who found them in the road. I was just wondering, are they..." She struggled with how to finish that sentence courteously.
"Crazy?" he asked. His tone was neutral.
"Well, I was trying to think of a nicer word than that, but yeah."
"A little," he shrugged. "But who isn't?"
"They said they wanted to find Arveiaturace and serve her," Pariah said. "Is that..." Again she struggled to find a word less loaded than 'normal'. "...common?" she finished.
"Some kobolds want to serve dragons. It's like a religion to them. Others worship Kurtulmak or Gaknulak or one of the other gods, but who knows if they are listening? When you serve a dragon, you can see your god, know that your tribute matters."
"Is that what you want?" she asked, unsure if that was a rude question.
He snorted derisively and waved around him. "I have food, a bed, and a boss who's almost nice to me. Who needs a dragon?"
She grinned, knowing that those are the kinds of luxuries most people took for granted. "Sounds like a good deal," she said. "Do you think they'll try again?"
"Probably," he said noncommittally. He tapped the side of his head. "Like I said, we're all a little crazy."
Pariah was sorry to hear that, but it wasn't her business. She was a believer in the right to make your own bad decisions. "All right," she said. "Thanks."
As she ducked down and exited the kennel, the kobold asked, "Are they going to be all right?"
She turned back to look inside. "I think so," she said. "We paid for a night at the Eastside for them if you want to go visit."
He furrowed his brow. "Why?" he asked.
"Why go see them?" she asked in confusion.
"No, why pay for their rooms?"
She shrugged. "Because they needed it."
"Huh," he said thoughtfully. "Well, thank you. They're not bad people, just..."
"Crazy?" she said, not unkindly.
He nodded with a smirk. "I'm Smul," he said, "though most people call me Small."
"Smul," she repeated. "I'm Pariah."
"Pariah," he said, ducking his head slightly. "Good to meet you."
"Same here," she smiled back, and then she turned to join the others.
Notes:
I never considered actually having Eberic leave the group, but I felt like he would need a little break. I figured just having him say "Fine" rather than a long drawn out discussion would fit him better. He's already made up his mind.
The module never talks about what kind of sacrifices made in Dwarven Valley to appease Auril. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that the situation I laid out would fit them: they aren't subject to the weather like the surface dwellers, and they have their own pantheon to protect them.
Chapter 131: Together to the End
Summary:
The party set out to Revel's End prison to talk to Vaelish Gant, a member of the Arcane Brotherhood.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 3, 1496 (3 days after the Full Moon)
"Pariah! Zariel!" came Bjarnson's voice as he banged on the door. "You up?"
They had left the room's lantern burning on a low flame that dimly lit the underground room at the Eastside inn. It was smaller than average and a little cramped for two people, but it was also cozy and had a rustic charm to it. The beds were basic cots, but covered in handmade quilts. One wall was decorated with a mural of a green, summer landscape that looked like nothing Pariah had seen in Icewind Dale so far. The air was warm with no drafts, which was one benefit of the basement location. Even the best built rooms above ground tended to have currents of cold air.
Pariah padded across the room, the rug soft against the scarred soles of her bare feet. She opened the door to find Bjarnson looking down at her. "Come on, let's go to breakfast. We should leave today."
She was confused and still groggy. "Today? Did I sleep yesterday away?" The plan had been to leave in two days.
"No," he said with a grin, "but I went out this morning and listened to nature. There is a bad storm blowing in tomorrow but the weather today should be ideal for travel. We're all mostly healed up, so I think we should head out as early as we can."
Pariah's brain was still not moving very fast but she nodded. "Fine with me," she said, though she didn't agree they were mostly healed. Her hip was a lot better but it still ached. Then again, one more day wouldn't make that much of a difference. "We'll be up in a bit," she said and she closed the door.
She turned to see Zariel sitting on the side of her cot. "You heard?" Pariah asked.
"Yes," the other woman said, stretching. "I had planned to train today, but I can do that when we get back." She furrowed her brow and made a thoughtful grunt.
"What?" Pariah asked.
"I'm trying to remember a dream I had," Zariel said.
The tiefling suppressed a sigh. "What was it about?" she asked in as neutral a tone as she could manage.
"I saw a stone fortress on a bleak cliff overlooking a storm-tossed sea full of ice. A single tower stretched up from the center of a star-shaped building or complex of buildings. The land was dark and snowy, but a shaft of light shone down to illuminate the structure."
"And you think that was a sign, not just a dream?" Pariah asked.
"I do," Zariel said emphatically. "I'm just not sure what the fortress was. Was it the prison, or something else?"
"You think it could have been another Netherese tower?"
"No," Zariel responded slowly. "The style...well, I suppose I don't know what Netherese buildings looked like since the only one we found was buried." She shook her head. "I don't know."
Pariah grimaced. If it was a sign, then it was a pretty obvious "go here" message. It would have been nice if it had included where or what "here" was. "Maybe someone knows what the prison looks like," she said.
They got dressed, though they didn't don their armor yet. Zariel summoned Lulu back from Mount Celestia and then they headed upstairs.
Pariah was surprised to see that, in addition to Bjarnson and Dejen, several other people were already sitting on the benches that lined the long table in the brick-floored dining room. Pariah had assumed it was very early, but realized she had no idea what time it was.
Marta, the young innkeeper, was putting a plate in front of a white dragonborn woman with skinny arms. Her white scales were mottled with patches of gray and light blue. Also at the table were two human men, one a dark-skinned man with a shaven head and a long mustache, and the other a younger, fairer man who looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. Finally, there was a dwarven woman who had several blue tattoos of an abstract design.
The walls were covered in hunting trophies. Bjarnson and Dejen were sitting under the head of a reindeer with a wide rack of antlers. Pariah and Zariel went to join them.
"Good morning," Marta said brightly. "Breakfast is fried knucklehead hash. If that doesn't strike your fancy, I have a little walrus meat from last night and a few other odds and ends."
"Hash is fine," Pariah said. "Any coffee?"
"I'm afraid not," Marta said apologetically. "Tea?"
"Tea," Pariah confirmed.
"The same for me, thank you," Zariel said.
As Marta headed back into the kitchen, Pariah turned to Bjarnson and asked, "So what's going on? I was a little out of it before."
Bjarnson was nearly done with his hash, which was a crispy-fried mixture of salmon, potatoes, onions with a generous chunk of blubber on the side. Through a mouthful of food he said, "I was up early so went for a walk. Last night's storm was just blowing its last and the sky was clearing so I sat and listened for that voice I've heard before. I asked it about our plans for travel and it said..." He frowned and swallowed. "Well, it didn't say anything but I felt the strong impression that the weather was going to be good today but bad tomorrow so we should go now."
Pariah exchanged a glance with Zariel and then shrugged. "Like I said, fine with me. I wonder if Eberic will be ready to go without notice."
"He was a soldier," Bjarnson reminded her. "He's probably used to heading out suddenly. I'll go fetch him when we're done eating. We can all meet at the kennel."
Zariel asked him, "Have you seen Revel's End? Do you know what it looks like?"
Bjarnson shook his head. "I mostly range to the east of Ten-Towns. I've been to the coast of the Sea of Moving Ice a few times, but not that far north."
Zariel raised her voice to address the others at the table. "Have any of you seen the prison at Revel's End? Can you tell us what it looks like?"
The dwarven woman said, "I have." She sucked something out of her teeth before saying, "I've done guard runs with the caravan. Prison's a big tower on a cliff."
"Is the prison star-shaped with a tower in the center?"
The woman thought about it. "Yeah, that sounds right. I never looked that close."
"And the cliff looks down on storm-tossed waters?"
The woman snorted and said, "Yeah, it's on the coast of the Sea of Moving Ice, which is pretty rough waters."
Bjarnson and Dejen were listening closely now. "Why do you ask?" Bjarnson said.
Zariel fiddled with her ring. "I think I saw it in my dreams last night. I think we are meant to go there."
Bjarnson grunted. "We're headed there anyhow, so that's just as well."
"At least it feels like the trip won't be wasted," she replied. "I have to admit I was unsure of the value of this journey, other than to do a favor for the speaker. But perhaps this is what the Morninglord wants of me."
The dark-skinned man snickered but said nothing. Pariah realized he was wearing the snowflake of Auril around his neck. She looked around and nobody else seemed to be. She found herself wondering if they should have been a little more careful about what they said in front of other people.
"What time is it?" she asked Dejen.
He pulled his timepiece out of a pocket and looked at the shadow on its face. "About half past six."
"How long is the trip?" she asked Bjarnson.
"It's a day's travel in good weather, and it sounds like we'll have good weather."
"Is it going to be hard to find?" she asked, remembering the hours they had searched for the Netherese tower in the middle of the wilderness.
He shook his head. "We'll head north to the coast and then follow it. The prison'll be pretty hard to miss."
He scraped the last of his food into his mouth and pushed the plate away. "I'll go rouse Eberic," he said as he stood up. "Marta's putting together some rations for us so get that before you go and then head for the kennel."
As he hurried out of the room, Pariah looked after him with a sense of bewilderment. "He's in a hurry," she said to nobody in particular.
Zariel replied, "I suppose it's best to start out early on a long trip in case we get sidetracked. And, although I trust he knows this land better than any of us, I still fear we could get lost out in the trackless tundra."
Marta came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea. "Your breakfast will be out in a moment," she said.
Pariah nodded thanks and then asked the dwarven woman, "Isn't there a road to Revel's End? I thought there were regular caravan runs."
"Regular, but not frequent," she replied. "One caravan a tenday isn't enough to be worth the work putting up markers. The caravan drivers know the route."
"I can see how getting out is easy: north to the coast and follow it to the prison," Pariah said, repeating what Bjarnson had told her. "But isn't it hard to find their way back here?"
The dwarven woman shrugged. "South to the Bleakrun and follow it to the Lonelywood Forest and then to Termalaine."
The Bleakrun, Pariah remembered, was the frozen river they had followed to find the Black Cabin. She didn't think they'd be traveling near that ramshackle building on this trip. She hoped not, since she felt a shiver just remembering the place where she'd died.
The hash was a little bland but it was filling. Pariah was getting used to the texture of the blubber, and knew it was important if they were going to be out in the cold all day. Before they left they inn, they got from Marta a bag of rations that included frozen cubes of raw fish, slices of fish that had been dried and smoked, sweet potatoes, dense potato bread and a container made of bark that held a generous helping of Reghed ice cream: fat whipped with berries, pulverized moose meat, and seaweed.
Bjarnson and Eberic weren't at the kennel when they arrived. The group roused the proprietor and he and the kobold, Smul, dragged out their sled and started rounding up their dogs. Pariah started harnessing the team. Dejen tried to help but he hadn't done it before so was slow. Meanwhile, Zariel saddled Haol to get him ready for the road.
They were done and still Bjarnson and Eberic hadn't shown up.
"I guess we could drive by his house," Pariah suggested.
"I could fly over and see what's going on," Lulu said. "Oh, never mind. There they are."
A tall figure and a short figure, both bundled up in their furs, hurried around a corner and through the dark streets towards the kennel. Pariah recognized Bjarnson and Eberic by their clothing, especially Bjarnson's crag cat fur cloak, though she couldn't see their faces.
"Problems?" Pariah called out as they got close.
"No," Bjarnson replied. "It just took a little time to get everything together. I'm glad you got the teams ready. No reason to wait. Let's get on the road."
"I'll take first drive," Pariah said as she stepped up to take the reins.
"Are you sure?" Bjarnson asked. "I don't mind."
"I may need to rest my hip after a while, so I might as well get my turn at driving out of the way. Besides, this part's easy: follow the forest."
"True," he chuckled as he mounted the sled behind her. He spread his arms out and said in relief, "This is much nicer."
She was confused by his comment for a moment, but then she realized he meant the roominess. Packing three people and their equipment onto one sled had been awkward. She was glad everyone was together now, and that they had both sleds.
Eberic had already flicked the reins and his team pulled around the kennel and out of town; Dejen, behind him, stumbled a bit by the unexpected start and sat down heavily on a pack. Pariah rushed to get her team moving and follow the first sled, and Zariel was close behind. Lulu flew over to stand on a pack next to Bjarnson.
The nearly full moon hung low in the west, casting dim, yellow light across the snowy landscape. The air was clear and the wind calm. It was hard to believe a blizzard had blown through during the night. Eberic set a steady pace and angled towards the lights of the lumber mill in the distance.
Bjarnson leaned forward and said, "Marrit and Eberic wanted to talk to me about Zariel. I didn't want to say anything in front of her."
"Oh," she replied. She had thought his excuse for being late seemed a little weak, but hadn't thought much about it.
"Pretty much what you'd expect," he continued. "Is she evil? Is she going to turn on us? That kind of thing."
"And what did you say?" Pariah asked cautiously.
"That I wasn't sure," he sighed. "But that, although she can be aggressive, I don't think she's evil." He paused. "I feel like there is a lot to her story I don't know."
Pariah couldn't help but laugh. "Well she's hundreds or thousands of years old, right Lulu?"
The asteri said, "Something like that. It's hard to measure our lives against time on the mortal plane."
Pariah continued, "So, yeah, she has a lot more to her story."
"But you trust her?" Bjarnson asked.
Pariah glanced down at Lulu. "Sort of," she said.
"You trust her intent," Bjarnson quoted her.
"I do," Pariah confirmed. "Look, maybe she needs a little reminder of what the boundaries are -- from all of us -- but what she said about the purity of good and evil is true, as far as I know. No mortal can be as evil as a devil, and Zariel is mortal now. And I think she really is trying her best. I certainly think we have way more to worry about from Levistus and Avarice and Auril and the Aurilites and random hags who eat the townspeople and so on. Zariel isn't in on my list of top ten potential villains."
Bjarnson chuckled. "I suppose that's one way to look at it." He sighed. "She's done a lot of good for us, I know. She's stood with us, fought beside us, healed our injuries. I'm leaning towards trusting her. Eberic's maybe a bit less suspicious than he was before, but he is still suspicious. And Marrit made it pretty clear that if Zariel hurts her husband, she'll make her regret it."
"I'll bet she will," Pariah laughed.
Eberic led them in an arc around the mill and then continued northeast to follow the edge of the Lonelywood Forest, the trees casting long shadows in the moonlight. The mottled white dome of Kelvin's Cairn was clearly visible on their right, not very tall but still much higher than the surrounding tundra.
Eberic and Dejen had the warming stone. Zariel had the coffee bottle. Pariah had her natural resistance, and Bjarnson had the protection of the white rose that Thiala had given him. Lulu often settled into the protection of Pariah's cloak, though she occasionally flew around them when she got restless, or went to hang out with Zariel or the men on the other sled.
The moon was only half above the flat horizon to the west as they came to the end of the Lonelywood and started north. It had set by the time they slowed down to cross the frozen Bleakrun. But the sky was clear and the starlight provided a little illumination of the distant landscape. Zariel and Lulu's magic gave them brighter, more localized lighting.
Bjarnson took over driving after they crossed the river. There wasn't much in the way of landmarks, but Bjarnson and Eberic could navigate by the stars. Pariah tried to stay vigilant, keeping an eye out for possible threats, but the flat, white landscape didn't give her much to look at other than the occasional bare rock or scrubby patch of bushes.
Her eye was occasionally drawn by movement and she'd look but see nothing.
"Did you see that?" she asked Bjarnson the second time it happened.
"What?"
She didn't want to point in case they were being watched. She looked over her shoulder to sight the distant mountain. "To your left, pretty much opposite of where Kelvin's Cairn is. I thought I saw movement."
He looked in that direction as the dogs continued across the snow. "I don't see anything," he said, "though that's not surprising. Most of the animals around here are colored to hide against the snow. Did it seem big?"
"Not sure," she said. "It was just a flash of movement. Twice now."
"In the same spot?"
"No," she admitted. The first one was on the right, kind of behind us."
"Probably nothing," he said. "A snow hare or a fox. Maybe even a crag cat, but they aren't going to attack a group moving this fast."
He didn't seem worried, which relaxed her. "What was that thing we saw our first night here? That severed arm?"
"Ice troll," he said.
"Right. Do they live out this way?"
"You can find them anywhere, but they are more common in the mountains or the deep woods." He looked over his shoulder. "Why? You worried?"
"Not really," she laughed. "Just making conversation. You said we should run if we see one but we killed a dragon. Do you think we could take one now?"
He considered that for a time. "Maybe. I'd be more likely to stand my ground now than before, but it would still be better to run. They mostly hunt alone but sometimes in pairs, and that would be bad. And sometimes they travel with frost giants, and that would be really bad."
"Oh, I don't know. We beat a bunch of frost giants."
He grunted, a puff of misty breath coming out from under his hood. "With a castle and an army and a wizard. I wouldn’t want to fight them in the open."
"That's true," she admitted. "I was mostly kidding."
The terrain was mostly flat and featureless, so nothing would really be able to sneak up on them. If something chased them, she trusted that the dogs and the axe beak could outrun it. She wasn't worried; she was bored. The endless fields of snow didn't give her much to look at.
"I think I'm going to try to read," she said.
He nodded in response.
She sat on her pack and pulled out one of the books they had gotten from the Netherese tower, not that she expected to glean anything useful from it. Angling it so she could read in the light coming from the front rail of the sled that had been enchanted by Lulu, she read about the cloud giants of Ostoria.
Notes:
Here's a question I thought about while writing this chapter: why isn't the party using a compass? They were used in China over 2000 years ago, and in Europe about 800 years ago, so they would fit the technology.
The actual reason is because I didn't think of it. I was so used to Avernus where a traditional compass is useless, though even there I had them find a magical, blood-fueled, hellish version of one. I could see Bjarnson depending on natural landmarks, but Eberic's survival experience comes from being a soldier so would have likely had a compass. Dejen has Cartographer's Tools, which Xanathar's says includes a pair of compasses, though it's possible they mean a drawing compass rather than a navigational compass. Both would be useful in cartography.
But I've already established that they aren't using one, so I guess they will continue to not use one. Maybe they just aren't a thing in Icewind Dale. It's not going to matter from a mechanics point of view; it's really just flavor.
Speaking of "stuff that doesn't affect mechanics", although I've hinted that the warming stone and coffee bottle help them beat the cold when they are traveling, they still have to make normal rolls for cold exhaustion. The coffee bottle is just flavor (so to speak), and the warming stone is really only useful if they camp.
Chapter 132: A Cage of Iron
Summary:
As the sun sets, the adventurers arrive at the entrance to Revel's End.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 3, 1496 (3 days after the Full Moon)
The sky lightened in the east as they traveled across the gentle undulations of the snowy land. The wind picked up a little, and a few clouds scuttered across the sky, but the weather remained calm. Pariah felt better now that she could see further, not that there was much more to see than before. She wasn't just looking for enemies. She would be willing to take a bow shot should a game animal wander nearby.
They crested a ridge and started downhill, and Bjarnson pulled the team into a gentle arc to the right. As the sled turned, she could see an expanse of dark water that stretched to the horizon, dotted with titanic icebergs: the Sea of Moving Ice.
She would never have guessed that the land could be flatter than the ocean. To her right, the gently rolling white hills were dotted with occasional patches of rock or shrubbery. Kelvin's Cairn, the highest peak in the area bordered by the Reghed Glacier and the Spine of the World Mountains, was no more than a slight lump several miles off.
In contrast, the sea to the left rose and fell despite the low wind. At least a dozen massive mountains of jagged blue-white ice floated slowly across its surface. She knew they must be miles apart, but she expected them to crash into each other at any moment. Between the icebergs, ice floes were scattered across the water's surface. She couldn't imagine taking a ship through that.
"Look," Bjarnson said, pointing.
She followed his finger but saw only a tossing sea and floating chunks of ice. "I don't see anything."
"There," he said. "See that iceberg? Look to the left, about a third of the way to the next one. There in the water."
She finally spotted it: eight or ten black-and-white shapes moving among the ice floes, surfacing with a burst of spray and diving again. She had no sense of scale so couldn't tell how big they were, though they must be huge to be visible at this distance. "What are they?"
"Orca whales," he said. "Technically predators, but they don't attack people unless provoked. Beautiful. Intelligent. Very rare. Seems like a good omen."
"Amazing," she said. "I wish we could see them better." She longed for the goggles or the spyglass they had carried in Avernus. "Will they come closer to shore?"
"No," he shook his head. "That's about as close as they get."
She pointed to the flock circling the skies over the orcas. "Are those birds flying over them on purpose?"
"Probably. They can be messy eaters, so gulls and terns sometimes follow them around to scavenge their leftovers."
Pariah continued to watch the whales and the birds, and to scan the water for other wildlife. "The sea seems pretty rough," she said.
"It always is. They say that Umberlee deliberately churns the waters here to prevent Auril from freezing them over entirely."
"Do you believe that?" she asked.
He laughed. "Maybe. Wouldn't be the craziest thing I've heard. I know the sea is more turbulent than before the Everlasting Rime. Nobody fishes these waters. People sometimes hunt for seals or walruses on the shore, and those that do toss some of their kill into the sea to appease Umberlee." He shrugged. "Might be a waste of food; might not."
"I've seen you spill the blood of a hunting kill to Auril," she pointed out.
"True. I doubt she notices, but better safe than sorry. "
Pariah looked behind them. She could barely see their sled tracks coming down the slope before turning in their current direction. They were following the cliff to their left that was a good quarter mile off. From where they had turned, the position of the sun, and her memory of the map she guessed they were traveling roughly northeast. "How much longer?" she asked.
"Couple of hours."
"I wonder how everyone's doing," she mused. "Even I'm feeling the cold at this point. You OK to keep driving?"
"I'm fine," he said, "but that's a good point."
Eberic's sled was about fifty feet ahead. Lulu was currently with Zariel, who was between the sleds and to their right. "Zariel!" Bjarnson called out. When the woman turned to look, he motioned her over.
Zariel slowed Haol down until he was traveling alongside them.
"How are you doing in the cold?" Bjarnson asked.
"Looking forward to getting to our destination, but I don't need to stop."
Bjarnson peered into her face. Pariah tried to look as well, though she didn't get much of a view due to Zariel's hood. She wasn't as good at recognizing the symptoms as Bjarnson was, but she'd learned to spot the early signs of hypothermia. Zariel was a bit pale but her teeth weren't chattering and her lips weren't showing blue. Bjarnson seemed satisfied. "Check with the other two," he said.
Haol sped up towards the other sled. Zariel leaned down to talk to Dejen and Eberic, and then dropped back again.
"They are in the same condition as I am -- feeling the chill but safe to travel. Dejen says we seem to be ahead of schedule."
"We're making good time," Bjarnson admitted. "All right, we'll keep going."
Pariah put up a hand to get Zariel's attention. "I'll take a sip of that coffee before you move off," she said.
Zariel passed over the bottle. Pariah took a few swallows of warm, earthy coffee and then passed it back. Zariel and Haol resumed their position.
The ocean made for a more interesting view than the tundra had, so the time passed quickly for Pariah. She didn't see any more whales, though she did see some seals and a walrus out on the floes. While they did occasionally come into bowshot, it would have been nearly impossible to retrieve their bodies.
Bjarnson turned his head to say over his shoulder, "There it is."
She leaned over the side rail to see past the big man. Ahead, a blade-shaped ridge of blue gray rock cut across their path. It sloped up from their right to hang out past the cliff and over the roiling waters below, stretching a good five hundred feet across and peaking at close to two hundred feet high on the left side.
Built against it was a star-shaped fortress made of the same blue gray stone. Three wedges pointed in their direction. If it was built the same on the other side, the wedges must reach to the rock face or even burrow into it. The main fortress was about twenty feet tall. The left and right wedges of the building were tipped with guard towers that were twice as high as the main building. In the center of the fortress stood a tower roughly a hundred and fifty feet high, giving it a view even over the midpoint of the slanting blade-shaped rock behind it. The left side of the prison building went right up to the cliff, where it looked like there was some kind of elevator down to the water.
Pariah couldn't see an obvious entrance on this side. Eberic had turned his sled to the right, and Zariel and Bjarnson followed him. Three fur-clad figures holding crossbows looked down at them from the nearest tower. One of them turned and hurried out of sight.
The travelers moved around the building. She had been right: this part of the fortress was built right into the rock face to their right. Facing them was what would have been one of the arms of the eight-pointed star design, but the tip had been cut off into a wall of irregular but close-fitting stone blocks. On the left side of the wall was a wide door of battered wood. It was sealed shut against the weather, but didn't look much like a prison door. They could hear dogs barking behind it.
Directly ahead of them was a sturdy portal of reinforced iron that led into the fortress. There was no visible lock or handle, though there was a smaller panel set in the door at about eye height.
Two guards watched them from the tower they had passed on their left. Their crossbows were held in the crooks of their arms, not aimed at the newcomers but ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Eberic pulled his sled up facing away from the door and Bjarnson pulled up next to him. Zariel and Haol stopped, facing the fortress. she scanned the guards above them before dismounting.
"Grim place," Dejen observed as they all dismounted.
"It's a prison," Eberic grumbled. "You expected music and ale?" He walked up to the door, removed his fur mitten, and pounded on the metal with his fist. The sound was flat and dull, which meant the door was thick.
The panel in the door slid open to reveal a pair of hazel eyes. "What's your business?" demanded a woman's voice.
Zariel replied, "We have come at the behest of the speaker of Bryn Shander to speak to a prisoner." To Dejen she said, "Show her the letter."
The eyes looked up at Zariel and then scanned the rest of the party. Dejen retrieved the letter to the warden from inside his cloak and put it into the slot the eyes watched from. A hand took it. "Wait," she said and the metal panel started to close, though it stuck at one point. The woman inside mumbled a curse in Espruar before slamming it shut.
The group waited; they had nothing else to do. Bjarnson knelt down and started checking the dogs; Pariah did the same with the other team.
With a clank, the door started to open. Rather than opening on a hinge, it pulled up like a portcullis, revealing spikes along the bottom and the holes in the stone threshold they fit into. There was no sound of machinery, though there was a slight scrape of metal on stone. The open door revealed a hallway lit by flames that burned in brass bowls mounted on the wall at each end of the corridor. There was a closed iron door at the far end, and an open door on the right wall. Four guards came out, all carrying crossbows and wearing leather armor under their furs.
The first was the hazel-eyed woman, who turned out to be a short half-elf with pale skin and long, blonde hair that didn't look like it had been washed in a while. The second was an older human man with leathery skin, spiky white hair and a bushy mustache that covered his mouth. The third was a younger human man who look no more than sixteen. He had patchy blonde stubble and stunning violet eyes.
The last guard was a tiefling man, though not a pale Levistus tiefling like all the others they had seen in Icewind Dale. His skin was mahogany brown, the horns that protruded from his curly, brown hair were short, and his eyes had red irises that seemed to glow in the dim light. He wore a heavy boot on his right foot, but his left was bare and cloven. His gait was uneven though not clumsy. Pariah had heard of tieflings who were more overtly fiendish, but hadn't seen one before.
The woman said, "My name's Dara. They'll take your animals to the kennel. Follow me inside."
The older man reached for Haol's reins while the other two headed for the sled.
"Wait a moment," Zariel said firmly as the axe beak took a step back from the man and looked over at her. "I'd like to view these kennel facilities first."
"I would, too," Bjarnson agreed.
"Very well," Dara replied with a slight tightening of her lips. "This way." She waved towards the other door.
Bjarnson and Eberic mounted the sleds but the others went on foot, since the kennel door was only about twenty feet away. Dara led the group and the other guards came behind. The snow wasn't deep here. It would be in the lee of the wind that came off the sea, and Pariah guessed that the guards or the prisoners cleared the snow from this side of the complex.
Dara walked to the middle of the wooden door, which also didn't seem to have a handle. She laid her left palm on the surface, and the door started to lift. Again, there was no clanking of gears or chains as it rose up into a slot in the stone, just the slight scrape of wood against rock.
A dozen dogs came running out to investigate the newcomers, running among them to sniff and bark playfully. Their own dogs, though tired, perked up and seemed ready to cavort with these new friends.
The kennel was a large space lit by the same flames in bowls as in the hall. Considering the height of the fortress, Pariah had expected it to have two floors but this room had a ceiling that was twenty feet high. There were multiple small structures along the far wall. The floor was bare dirt covered in straw. Although there was a definite smell of dog, Pariah didn't smell feces or urine, which implied the place was kept clean. They guided the sleds and Haol inside and found it was warm, though a cool draft came through the open door.
Dara said, "The dogs will be free to wander within the kennel. The axe beak will go into the corral there." She pointed to a fenced off area in one corner that was currently empty. "I hope you brought enough food for them all, because we don't have the supplies to feed caravan animals."
"Haol doesn't eat," Zariel said. "He isn't an axe beak; he is a celestial spirit in the form of an axe beak. As such, I was hoping he could be given more freedom than a typical animal."
Dara's hazel eyes paused on Zariel only a moment before she said, "You'll have to ask the warden about that. For now, it goes into the corral."
Zariel scowled slightly.
Bjarnson said quickly, "And, yes, we did bring plenty of food for the dogs."
Dara gestured towards the other soldiers. "They'll get your animals settled. You can bring your belongings inside, or leave them on the sleds and they'll be stored out here after they are inspected. Your animals should be settled by the time you've finished speaking with the warden. I assume you'll be staying the night?"
"If that's an option," Bjarnson replied. "We weren't sure if there were accommodations here."
"There isn't really any choice, with us being so remote. It's nothing fancy but, unless you do something to piss off the warden, you can stay one night. Two if weather gets bad."
They started to collect their packs. Pariah looked down at her longbow. "I assume we should leave our weapons outside?"
"All dangerous items such as weapons will be locked up while you are here. You can leave them here or bring them into the guard room. Either way, they'll all end up in the armory until you leave."
They all stopped what they were doing as they considered the implications of that rule. Zariel said, "Perhaps I could leave my sword here under Haol's protection."
"All dangerous items such as weapons will be locked up while you are here," Dara repeated, her voice taking the tone of rote recitation. "You can appeal to the warden for an exception, but in the meantime we will be confiscating dangerous items."
Zariel's scowl deepened as she looked down at the blade on her hip.
"Or you can go back to Ten-Towns," the half-elf said.
Eberic sighed heavily. "What part of 'prison' is everyone confused by?" he asked in irritation. "Yes, they will take our weapons. Yes, they will take that contraption." He pointed to the box that was Ulis's current form. "Yes, they will take your lockpicks," he said to Pariah. He waved around him. "Prison!"
Nearly everyone was scowling now. Pariah admitted to herself that what he said made sense, though she wouldn't have gone out of her way to mention her lockpicks.
In a gentler tone, Dara said, "These rules are for your safety and for ours. Nobody's going to steal your stuff, if that's what you're worried about."
Lulu, standing on Zariel's shoulder, whispered something to her in Enochian. Zariel blew out a breath and visibly relaxed. "I suppose I see your point," she admitted. "Can I see where our items will be kept?"
"No. You will be restricted to only certain areas of the prison, and that doesn't include the armory. Again, you can ask the warden for exceptions, but she's going to say no."
There was still hesitation in the group. Pariah said, "Look, I'm not any happier about these rules than you are. I don't like rules. But we know we aren't going to head back to Termalaine. I'm all for rebelling against authority, but we aren't going to in this case so let's stop pretending we are." She unbuckled her sword belt and held it out towards the younger man, who hesitated and looked towards the woman.
"Hold on," Dara said. "Let's do this inside where we don't have a draft. Bring your backpacks."
They each shouldered their packs; Dejen also brought the folded up construct. There were still a lot of things left on the sled, but too much to carry in one trip. They followed the half-elf woman out of the kennel and back to the main entrance; the other guards stayed behind to tend to the animals. She put her palm against the iron door, like she had for the kennel, and the portal rose into the stone wall above it.
She led them inside, where Pariah noticed a detail that hadn't been obvious from the outside: a metal rail set in the floor that stretched along the length of the hallway and through a slot at the base of the door at the far end. Like in the kennel, the ceiling was far over her head. Dara took them through the open door on the right wall, which led into a large room walled with irregularly cut stones that had been fitted together precisely and secured with dark, almost black mortar. Across the center of the room was a pine table. The wood was stained honey brown and looked battered from plenty of use. There were four chairs around a circular table in the corner that held the remnants of a card game. Cold weather gear hung from hooks along the far wall as did three pairs of manacles and three separate lengths of chain with hooks on each end. A rack held two crossbows, a longbow, a longsword, an axe and a mace. Another iron door, this one closed, was set in the far wall.
Two more guards stood on the far side of the table, waiting for the newcomers with an expectant but not hostile air. They were unarmed. The warm air meant they didn't need to wear heavy furs, though the human man on the left wore a bulky brown sweater over his leather armor. His boots were made of some kind of reptile skin, unlike the more common leather worn by the others. He was muscular though too lean.
The other guard was a stocky dwarven woman with her chestnut hair tied into a ponytail interwoven with bone jewelry. She looked at the newcomers over the lenses of crescent-shaped, black-rimmed spectacles.
As soon as they were all in the room, the door shut behind them.
Dara crossed the room to put her weapons on the rack as she said, "Put all your things on the table."
Eberic was the first one to move forward, dump his pack on the table in front of the dwarven woman, followed by his ice dagger, shortbow and quiver of arrows. Pariah was frowning at the door behind them, which was certainly locked. Zariel and Bjarnson were hesitating. Dejen was peeking into one of the flaming bowls that lit the room.
"Are these magical?" he asked. "There's no fuel."
"Yes," Dara replied. "So is the heat and a few other things."
"Wonderful," he said, scribbling in the air.
"No magic!" the male human guard snapped.
Everyone jumped. Dejen looked over at him, confused. "They aren't magic?"
"He means," Dara sighed, giving the guard a reproachful stare that he didn't see, "that you are not allowed to perform any kind of magic at all within these walls. Is that quill magical?"
Dejen looked at the tip of the quill, which he had stopped moving, and then back at her. "A little bit I suppose," he said.
She was now standing at the table between the other two guards. She tapped the surface. "Put it here. No magical items will be allowed, including items used in the casting of magic. Religious icons are permitted, but must be kept in your room. No prayers or religious rituals, even non-magical ones, are allowed outside of your rooms."
Zariel frowned at Dara. "You would deny the gods here?" she asked.
"We don't deny the gods," Dara replied. "But religious differences lead to fights. We don't care who you pray to, but it's private. Do it in your room."
Zariel's frown faded slightly. "Are there those here who worship Auril?"
Dara shrugged. "Probably. As long as they behave -- prisoner or staff -- that's their business and nobody else's."
Pariah and Zariel exchanged a glance. Pariah didn't agree that it wasn't other people's business if someone worshiped the evil god who was currently besieging the area, but it probably wasn't a point worth arguing.
Dejen had walked forward to hesitantly put his quill on the table. Beside it he put the folded up construct, and his backpack. Bjarnson had moved forward to put his things in front of the human man.
Since all three guards were busy, Pariah hung back and debated about trying to hide a knife or her lockpicks just on general principles, while that annoying voice of reason in her head told her not to.
She put her pack on the ground against the wall and sat on it while she waited for her turn.
Notes:
Apparently Revel's End debuted in this module. It also appeared in the D&D movie, but their version of Revel's End differs from the module version. I stayed true to the module version. I didn't review the adventure "Prisoner 13" because I didn't realize I had gotten it for free (I assume) on D&D Beyond. By the time I did realize that, I had already written all the prison chapters and didn't feel like revising them.
However, I described the prison wrong in the last chapter. I'm not sure where I got the idea of a tower with four outbuildings. It's a star-shaped fortress with a tall tower in the center. I've gone back and fixed that description.
I added a bunch of my own rules to the prison. The "no weapons" rule is from the module, but it also makes sense they wouldn't allow lockpicks, crowbars, spell focuses, and a ton of other stuff. Or allow the casting of spells.
Chapter 133: Hardline
Summary:
The group prepares to meet with the warden of Revel's End.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 3, 1496 (3 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah had thought the Candlekeep monks were bad...
By the time the prison guards were done with the visitors, a general air of frustration hung over the group. The guards had not only searched their backpacks, but also their persons, and they were not gentle. They confiscated weapons, anything that seemed remotely magical, and countless tools such as ice picks, crowbars, coils of rope, and even their crampons.
Pariah noticed that the guards had missed a couple of things, though she wasn't about to speak up. For example, Dara had looked at the scrimshaw pendant Dejen had gotten from Trovus, mumbled, "Nice work," but hadn't taken it. So that meant they couldn't detect magical auras.
They also ignored Eberic's pipe. They didn't take the platinum rings inscribed with the symbol of Lathander that everyone wore, but told them to put the rings in their pockets for now and leave them in their rooms later.
Dejen had argued that his timepiece, while magical, was hardly a threat. Bjarnson wanted to keep the white rose he had gotten from Thiala since it was fragile and he was afraid it would be damaged. Dara told them she didn't have authority to grant exceptions but she would bring them to the warden and let her decide.
They were allowed to keep their armor, though they were expected to remove it once they reached their rooms if the warden decided to let them stay the night.
Eberic frowned a lot, but he did that anyhow. Zariel argued with them about giving up her sword but finally relented and very reluctantly handed over her weapon. Bjarnson and Dejen mostly cooperated, though the latter was quite frustrated by the number of harmless tools they took. Then again, those "harmless tools" included the wand that shot fireworks and the amulet that controlled a construct that had tried to kill them all once, so maybe he wasn't the best judge.
Through it all, Pariah kept her mouth shut, clenching her teeth until her jaw hurt. She wanted to stand her ground and demand the guards get their hands off their possessions, but she knew better. Knowing when to fight was more important than knowing how to fight. There was no version of this that they would get anything more than kicked out, and their bad behavior would reflect on Speaker Shane. There was no reason to burn that bridge.
So she held her tongue.
The guards did at least bring out two pots of hot tea, which the group appreciated after their long, cold journey. The hot beverage and the warm room helped chase away at least some of the chill they all felt.
After about an hour -- they couldn't be sure of the exact time since they had taken Dejen's timepiece -- they were finally finished. Dara said, "I will take you to see the warden now. Your backpacks will be taken to your rooms." She was carrying the timepiece, the white rose, and a silver pin she had found in Dejen's pocket. She had said the warden might grant exceptions on these items, though it was unlikely.
She opened the door to the hallway outside and then turned right to the door opposite the entry. The door slid up into the ceiling to reveal the hallway continued beyond to a four-way intersection. The path beyond opened up into a large space but they couldn't see anything other than the far wall of the room. They could hear voices from that direction, but just a general babble rather than specific words. The air was musty and damp, and it smelled faintly of body odor and excrement. The metal rail set in the floor of the entry hall continued down this path and then split left and right to follow the wall of the larger room.
Dara didn't take them along the path of the rail, but instead turned down the left hallway. "Follow me. Don't wander. Don't dawdle."
She was the only guard with them. The other two had stayed behind to gather up the confiscated items and take them to be locked up.
The hall went about twenty paces and then turned at an angle to the right. Pariah tried to visualize what she'd seen outside and realized this must be the base of one of the wedges of the star-shaped building. This hall led another thirty paces past a closed iron door on the left wall until it reached an intersection.
Pariah realized she could hear faint singing from the intersection ahead. As they got closer the man's voice became clearer and she could make out the words:
Not fortune found nor fate divine,
Come close to toping the juice of the vine.
With cherry crew we sip and sway,
Let's tip the tankard and waste the day.
"Someone is cheerful," Pariah observed.
Dara snorted derisively. "Delusional more like. 294 is a recent arrival. Smiles all the time. Keeps saying this is all a big misunderstanding and he and his friend will be pardoned any day now." She hesitated at the intersection to frown down the corridor to the right, which is where the singing was coming from. It looked like it opened into the same large room they had seen before, and the metal rail came down this corridor from that direction. She said, "The warden sure hates him for some reason. From day one she put him and his friend on the worst..."
She trailed off as though suddenly realizing she had said too much. "This way," she said, and turned to the left.
The short hallway ended at another iron door with a notch at the bottom to let the rail pass through. "What's the rail for?" Pariah asked.
"Prisoners are chained to it when they move around the building."
Dara put her palm against the door to open it and then led them inside. They were at the base of a wedge-shaped room. This must be the middle wedge they had seen from the outside. A wooden ladder was bolted to the left wall with iron brackets. It led up to a closed metal hatch in the ceiling. The rail came through the door to the center of the room where it stopped.
The room was nearly empty except for a wide, wooden table that faced them. There were three chairs facing the table on this side, the middle one over the end of the railing. In the single chair on the opposite side sat a tall, slender woman wearing a red robe with gold trim. She had long, black hair that hung down her back, and bangs that just about reached her blue eyes. She was currently scanning a piece of parchment as the tiefling guard they had seen before stood beside her.
The woman glanced up at the newcomers. "Come in," she said. "Please, sit. I'm warden Agneta Marthannisa." She handed the parchment to the tiefling and said, "All right, put it all in the armory."
He nodded and headed out the door. Dara closed it behind him and then walked forward to lay the pin, the timepiece and the white rose on the table. "They would like exceptions granted for these items."
"And possibly others," Zariel said.
Agneta picked up the pin. Pariah hadn't seen Dejen wear it before. Maybe it was a sentimental keepsake he didn't want to lose. She couldn’t see it well at this distance but it seemed to be a crescent moon with lines running between the horns. It was silver and set with small, pale blue gems. It seemed odd that the guards had taken it, but the stem could probably be used as a lockpick.
She turned the piece of jewelry over in her hand. "Whose is this?" she asked.
"Mine," said Dejen. "It symbolizes the brightness that illuminates even at night."
The warden nodded sagely. "We all need a light in the darkness," she said. "I've seen something like this made by a jeweler in Waterdeep."
"Mine comes from Riatavin."
Her eyebrows rose. "And why is a man from Riatavin in Icewind Dale?"
"To find out where the light has gone."
She turned the pin over in her fingers again. "At least the moon still glows in the night sky." She handed the pin to him and he slipped it into a pocket.
Next she picked up the triangular piece of ivory and studied the shadow on its face. "What is this?"
"It's a timepiece," Dejen said. "It's kind of like a portable sundial. That shadow moves to indicate the time of day. It's a useful device, but not dangerous in any way."
The warden flipped it over and back, tapped it with a fingernail. While she examined the device, Pariah, Eberic and Bjarnson sat down in the chairs.
She handed the timepiece to Dejen. "All right. I'll allow it."
She picked up the white rose and raised her eyebrows. She sniffed the flower and nodded. "Nice fragrance. Since it's so fresh, I assume it's magical."
Bjarnson said, "Yes. It was a gift from the woman who oversees the greenhouse in Good Mead. It is just an enchantment against the cold. My concern is that it's fragile, and I would hate to see it damaged. It has a lot of sentimental value, especially now that the greenhouse has been destroyed."
Agneta looked stunned and her jaw dropped slightly. "The greenhouse was destroyed?" she asked incredulously.
"What?" Dara repeated, looking equally shocked.
"Well, yes," Bjarnson said, confused. "In the dragon attack."
"There was a dragon attack?" the warden exclaimed. She sighed heavily. "We don't get a lot of news out here. Did Arveiaturace finally decide to raze the towns, or was it one of the smaller dragons?"
"Neither," Bjarnson stammered. "It was an artificial construct built by duergar as part of an invasion. The invasion was repelled and the dragon destroyed, but there was a lot of damage done to the eastern towns."
"What about Caer-Konig?" Dara asked in alarm.
"Yes, it hit Caer-Konig," he said.
The guard leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. "I have family there," she said.
"I'm so sorry," Bjarnson replied, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to surprise you with such tragic news."
The warden rubbed her face with one hand. "I'll want to hear the full story to know what to tell my staff, but let's stay on point for the moment." She studied the flower. "You'll have no need for cold protection while you're here. I understand your concern about it getting damaged, so I'll keep it in my personal possession and return it to you when you leave."
Bjarnson pursed his lips, and then nodded curtly. He saw the chairs were taken so moved to lean against the left wall.
Zariel said, "I understand the prohibition on weapons, but I would like to request that my blade be kept in the care of my steed in the kennel. He is a celestial spirit that has taken animal form, and the sword is a holy weapon blessed by the Morninglord. I would rather it was in his care." Then, before the warden could answer, she added, "And Pariah here has a sword given to her by Tempus himself. I would make the same request for that artifact."
Pariah wouldn't have bothered asking for the favor, but she wasn't going to contradict Zariel.
"No," the warden said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Your possessions will be safe in our care."
Zariel was even less happy with the decision than Bjarnson had been, but she blew out a frustrated breath and said, "Very well."
With that done, the warden picked up a piece of paper from the desk. Pariah recognized it as the letter they had brought from Speaker Shane. "So, you've come to speak to Prisoner 237."
Zariel replied, "Yes. We think that he may have information about the intentions of several members of the Arcane Brotherhood who are currently in Icewind Dale."
"He's been here for eleven years. I'm not sure he's much of an authority on current events."
"True," Zariel sighed. "It is rather a desperate ploy. We're hoping he can give us some kind of insight as to their general methods or goals. If not," she shrugged, "then we had a lovely view of the sea on our way here."
That got a little smile out of the warden. "All right, I'll allow the interview. Do you want to talk to him this afternoon or wait until the morning? I imagine you might all want some rest after your long trip, but you may also want to leave early tomorrow."
"Actually," Bjarnson said, "I expect another storm to blow in tomorrow. I was hoping we could impose on you for two nights."
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms while she looked at him. "Let's see what the weather is like tomorrow. If it's bad, then you can stay a second night."
Zariel turned to the others and said, "If it's all the same to the rest of you, I'd rather wait until tomorrow for the interview. I'm really quite exhausted from our journey, and I imagine Vaelish Gant will be a canny opponent."
Nobody had any objection, so Zariel turned back to the warden. "Tomorrow it is, then."
"All right, but let's go over the rules now. First of all, you will not use his name in any area where a prisoner might overhear you. Keeping the anonymity of the prisoners helps maintain order. You will refer to him only as Prisoner 237, and I suggest you get used to doing so in private as well. The interrogation will happen in this room and I will be present, though only as a witness. I don't intend to interfere as long as you don't break the rules. Only two of you may attend. You will not bring anything into the room other than the clothes on your back. He will be provided with a slate and a piece of chalk to respond to your questions."
Zariel's brow furrowed. "Why? Can't he speak?"
"He is a powerful spellcaster so, in addition to the usual manacles, he will be fitted with a silence collar."
Lulu said, "I can speak to him telepathically if that would help."
"No," Agneta said sternly. "No communication that I am unable to monitor. You will speak only in languages I know: Chondathan, Glav, Dethek and Daraktan. No code phrases or whispers. I will terminate the interview if I think any secret communication is going on. You will not give him any information about the prison including security measures, general layout, or the names of the staff. You will not make physical contact with him or cross the plane of this table." She motioned to the table in front of her.
Zariel looked thoughtful. "I have the ability to compel him to tell the truth..." she began.
"No magic," the warden said.
"As I suspected," Zariel replied in disappointment.
"That should be it. Any questions?"
The group looked at each other but nobody spoke. Zariel said, "Perhaps later, but I think we are all fairly tired right now."
The warden nodded. "I'll see you at dinner anyhow, since we all eat in the mess." She looked up at the ceiling pensively while she drummed her fingers on the desk. "Actually, I want to hear about the dragon attack." To Dara she said, "Tell the kitchen I want to dine with our guests separately after the 4 o'clock service is over."
The guard nodded.
Agneta continued, "Dara will show you to the councilor's quarters where you will be staying. You'll be allowed only in the guest quarters and the mess hall. A guard can escort you if you want to visit your animals, or if you want a breath of fresh air outside." She paused and made a sour face. "There are currently three councilors staying in the quarters. Show them some courtesy, and try not to piss them off. They are enough of a problem when they are in good moods."
Now that the meeting was over, Dara led them out of the room and back along the same route to the guard room. The two guards who had searched their belongings were sitting at the table playing cards. Neither their backpacks nor the confiscated items were present. She led them out the far door and into a short hallway that opened into the mess hall.
The room had a long parallelogram shape. Most of the room was taken up by four long wooden tables with benches that would seat about a dozen people each, more if they were willing to bump elbows. Waist-high cabinets lined the wall to their right, flanking a hallway. There was a closed door at the far end of the room and an open one on the far end of the left wall. The sound of clanking pots marked that as the kitchen. Against the wall next to that were two barrels.
Dara said, "Meals are served every four hours at 12, 4, and 8, morning and evening. A bell will be rung when the next meal is served." She pointed to the barrels. "Cold and hot water there. Mugs in the cabinets. During meals there are various other things to drink, and the cooks might provide tea leaves if you want something outside meal times."
She led them down the side hallway, which was lined with doors, five on each side, with another door at the end. These were standard wooden doors with handles rather than the iron security portals they'd seen so far. She waved to the right side. "These first three rooms are occupied by councilors from Neverwinter, Baldur's Gate and Daggerford, if I remember correctly. The other rooms are empty." She opened the first door on the left to reveal a bedroom. There was a single wood-framed bed covered in a fur blanket, a desk and chair, and a claw-footed chest. Eberic's pack was lying on the bed.
"We've put your packs in the five rooms on the left side, but feel free to move to other empty rooms. They're all the same." She pointed towards the end of the hall. "Privy through there. Toilet gets emptied daily. There's a wash area with running water from the cistern on the roof." She scratched her chin. "Let's see, anything else? Oh, you can turn the flames on and off in your room by using the command word 'lights'. You have to be thinking about what you want, so it won't trigger just because you say the word." She hummed contemplatively. "I think that's about it. If you need anything, bang on the door to the guard room. But we're not an inn, so don't expect much in the way of luxury."
"Running water and an indoor privy seems like luxury to me," Pariah said.
Dara grinned. "I suppose that's a good point."
"How's the food?" Bjarnson asked.
She shrugged. "Pretty good. Depends on who's on duty. The crew at noon and four in the afternoon are probably the best. But since outside shipments all run through here, we get our pick of the imports, so it's better than a lot of the people in town get. And you'll get a little better quality if you're dining with the warden separately."
"Any ale?" Pariah asked playfully.
"No alcohol," Dara said apologetically.
"Yeah, I figured," she sighed.
"If there's nothing else..." Dara said, and waited for a response. When she didn't get one, she continued, "So, get settled. Take a load off. Ignore the next meal bell. I'll come get you when the warden is ready to dine with you. See you then."
Notes:
I figured I couldn't visit the prison without a little nod to the movie. In case you are wondering, "toping" is not a typo. I looked it up and toping is excessive drinking of alcohol.
I changed the warden's first name from Marta to Agneta, since we've already met a Marta who runs the Eastside Inn in Termalaine.
Although silence collars for wizards aren't an original invention, the particular one I'm using was inspired by the one that got put on Caleb in Critical Role Campaign 2.
The language Glav is Draconic, and Daraktan is Orcish (both canon).
Stupid English has both counselors (people who provide advice) and councilors (elected or appointed government officials). I'm going to have to remember to double check that because I find myself using both spellings.
Chapter 134: Interrogation
Summary:
The party questions the wizard, Vaelish Gant, about the actions of the Arcane Brotherhood.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 4, 1496 (4 days after the Full Moon)
The mess hall was fairly boisterous at breakfast. Three of the tables were occupied by about a dozen guards each. They were mostly human with a few dwarves and a smattering of other races. Some wore armor, others wore regular clothes. The two cooks bustled to bring out plate after plate of food. Everyone got the same meal: scrambled eggs, burned bacon, a hunk of real bread, and an orange. Pariah saw what the warden had meant about the prison getting the pick of the imports, and she briefly wondered if it was a staff benefit for what was probably a brutal posting, or if the warden was skimming off the top. Either way, Pariah enjoyed the food.
The previous night they had dined with the warden, eating chicken, pasta in cream sauce, peas and corn, with vanilla cake for dessert. They had told her about the duergar plot and the dragon attack, and she had listened carefully to the tale, asking numerous questions, most of which they didn't have answers to. She herself was from Bryn Shander, but knew that many of the staff were from the towns that had been attacked. Later that evening, she had made an announcement over the prison loudspeaker telling a much shorter story of the attack, and saying that any staff who had friends or family in the affected towns should bring her a list of their names. Pariah and her companions agreed to take the lists to the speakers of each town in the hope of getting news back to the prison.
The warden was eating with them now, along with the three members of the prison's Absolution Council. Voss Anderton was a lanky human man with graying chestnut hair who hailed from Waterdeep. He was well dressed in a white suit with a yellow shirt. He was a serious man with a precise way of speaking.
Kriv Norixius was the representative from Daggerford. He was a silver dragonborn, though built leaner than Speaker Trovus was, and he had a pronounced jaw. He dressed in black and violet, and his boots had silver tips. He held himself stiffly with occasional disapproving looks towards the guards when they got too rowdy.
Jil Torbo was a halfling woman who represented Baldur's Gate. She was dressed in green, and her cheeks were ruddy as though she had been exerting herself. She sighed a lot when she talked. When the group had introduced themselves, she had muttered Pariah's name a couple of times as though trying to bring something to mind. When she asked if the two of them might know each other, Pariah shrugged and said she didn't think so.
She guessed the woman was remembering the story of the people who had brought down one of the Council of Four, and rescued another. However, Pariah found the little bit of fame she had gotten from that incident annoying, and didn't feel like telling the story again or answering the inevitable questions.
The councilors dominated the conversation while the visitors listened patiently, and the warden looked bored. Anderton complained about how cold it was, and questioned whether the magical heating system needed to be checked. Norixius and Trobo got into a debate about sentence commutations -- the purpose of the Absolution Council. Norixius felt that criminals were always criminals and there was no reason to expose polite society to such filth, while Trobo told stories of past offenders who had gone on to be productive citizens after being shown clemency.
Pariah had strong opinions on the subject, but thought that bawling out the dragonborn might not go over well with the warden, so she kept her mouth full to avoid speaking.
Bjarnson was playing with his food, pushing it around his plate pensively. He'd been more introspective than usual since they had woken up. He had already been in the mess hall waiting for them when they had arrived.
She nudged him. "You OK?" she asked in a whisper. "You seem off this morning."
He looked down at her, and then glanced around the table. He leaned in and said quietly, "We should talk later."
"About what?"
He shook his head and again glanced at the people around the table. "Later. It will wait."
She understood that meant he wanted privacy. "All right," she said, puzzled. If it was urgent, he'd insist on talking immediately, but now she was going to fret about it and she had enough on her mind already.
"Finished?" the warden asked.
Pariah swallowed the last of her coffee and said, "Yes."
"As am I," said Dejen. After some discussion, the group had decided that the two of them would be the best to interrogate Prisoner 237. Pariah was good at reading people, even without the devil's sight she used to have, and Dejen had a knowledge of magic and history that might be helpful.
He had gone to talk to the warden last night without telling the rest of them, and had managed to get two concessions from her: he would be allowed to take his magical quill into the interrogation room, and Lulu would be allowed to come along so that Zariel could monitor the conversation from afar. Pariah was surprised, since the warden had seemed so inflexible about the rules. Dejen must have more of a silver tongue than she had thought.
Agneta led them through the door and into the guard room. Three different guards were on duty. A balding human man with tufts of auburn hair around his ears was leaning against the wall talking to a dwarven man with a buzz cut, sharp facial features and spectacles. A halfling man with long, golden hair in a braid was sitting at the table sketching in a notebook. All three jumped to attention when the warden came in.
She said to the halfling, "Tell the hub I'm ready for Prisoner 237."
He left his notebook on the table and headed through the door to the entry hall. Pariah glanced at the drawing he was working on and it was quite an impressive sketch of a halfling with an axe fighting a white wolf the size of a horse.
Pariah, Lulu and Dejen followed the warden along the same route to the same meeting room where they had met with her the previous day. The table was in the same place but three chairs were on the far side and one on the near side, over the spot where the metal railing ended.
"Have a seat," the warden said, motioning to the other two chairs while she took the one on the left. "They've already gotten him ready so he should be here soon."
Dejen took the seat at the other end and Lulu alit on the table. Pariah mulled over her questions as she sat in the middle chair. She wished she had been allowed to bring just a piece of paper with a list of the things she wanted to ask, but the warden was adamant that they were to carry nothing.
"Why are you so strict about bringing things into the room?" Pariah asked the warden, since they had some time to kill. "You wouldn't even let us bring in a piece of paper other than the letter from the speaker."
"And even that, I won't let him touch," she said. "The prison cells are covered by antimagic fields, but the rest of the prison can't be so we can have light and heat and so on. Spellcasters need as many as three things to cast spells: their voices, their hands, and sometimes particular items like a pinch of sulfur or burning incense. We control his voice with the silence collar. We can't bind his fingers or he wouldn't be able to communicate at all."
Pariah remembered being gagged and having her fingers tied together when she'd been captured by the hobgoblins working for Bitter Breath, exactly to prevent her from using her magic.
The warden continued, "But we can prevent him from touching anything. While a piece of paper might seem innocent, you would be surprised by how little they need. During his first interview after he arrived, I let him have a cup of water. He picked up the cup and flung the water at me. I was encased in ice and couldn't move. He tried to get my keys to open his collar, but luckily the guards were able to overpower him. I'm not going to make that mistake again."
"I thought spellcasters needed just a single object to focus their spells, like the gem in my sword pommel."
It was Dejen who answered. "That is common, but some spellcasters use specific components that depend on the spell. There are those who feel that such practice allows them to fine tune a spell. Magic that calls for bone dust might behave quite differently with the bone of a bird, a rabbit, or a human. Finer quality components might improve the efficacy of a spell. I haven't seen any such results myself, but I did read one study that-"
He broke off as the iron door slid up to reveal three people in the hallway outside. In front was presumably Vaelish Gant, a human man in his 30s with shaggy black hair, mutton chops, and a day of stubble on his jowly face. His complexion was sallow and he wheezed slightly as he breathed. He wore a hoodless robe without pockets that had 237 emblazoned across the chest. His wrists and ankles were manacled, and a chain was attached from the back of his belt to the railing on the floor. He wore a silver collar around his neck.
He was accompanied by two guards: a muscular human man with a white beard and a rheumy eye, and a goliath man with stone-gray skin and prominent ridges over his bright blue eyes. Dark stripes ran across his face like tattoos, though she remembered Bjarnson telling her that such markings were natural for goliaths. Both guards wielded sturdy clubs studded with iron rivets.
The three of them entered the room. The goliath was head and shoulders taller than the other two and had to bend his head down to get through the door. The two guards shoved Gant towards the chair and he sneered at them before taking his seat. The human guard put a slate and a piece of chalk on the table next to Gant.
"Prisoner 237," the warden began, "you have received a letter from your old friend, Speaker Duvessa Shane."
Gant raised his chin to look down his nose at her and made what was probably a grunt, though no sound came out.
The warden unfolded the letter she had received. "The speaker thinks you might have information about Arcane Brotherhood activities in Icewind Dale. If you provide information of value, she will appeal to the Lord's Alliance to reduce your sentence."
He made another silent grunt, this one accompanied by a rolling of the eyes.
Agneta turned to the other two and said, "Proceed with your questions."
Gant picked up the chalk and started writing. Pariah was confused, since they hadn't asked him anything yet. She waited until he was done and he turned the slate towards her.
Help me escape and I will give you unimaginable riches and items of great power as soon as you take me back to Luskan.
Pariah was stunned. The warden was sitting right there and could read what he had written. Pariah looked over to see she was watching Gant, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. She turned an inquiring look towards Pariah.
Pariah turned back to him and stammered, "Uh, no, I don't think so."
Gant shrugged and wiped the slate.
She was thrown off by his blatant offer, but realized it might have been a deliberate ploy to put them off guard. Gathering her thoughts she said, "Several Luskan wizards are here looking for the Netherese city of Ythryn. Do you know anything about the expedition?" They had decided there was no point in hiding any facts about the city during their questioning.
He lifted his chin to study her for a moment and then wrote on the slate.
Been here 11 yrs. I know nothing of what the Hosttower is doing.
"What's the Hosttower?" she asked.
He started to turn the slate around to write on it, but Dejen answered. "It's the headquarters of the Brotherhood of the Arcane in Luskan. The wizards who are here would have been sent by them."
He was making notes in the air with his quill, and Gant watched the item with intense curiosity.
Pariah asked, "Have there been other expeditions to look for the city?"
He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then he wrote on the slate. They were talking about an expedition around the time I left, but it didn't seem like anything more than talk.
"Is that why you came here originally?"
He shook his head.
She waited, but he offered no additional insight. Irritated, she asked, "Why did you come here?"
He wrote, Power. Take over Bryn Shander. Manipulate economy to control other towns. Give the Hosttower a foothold.
"Were there others with you?"
He shook his head. Alone. Wanted all the glory.
Dejen said, "That's common among Hosttower wizards."
"Do you know anything about Ythryn?"
He looked puzzled. Didn't even know the city's name. Know it's supposed to be under the glacier.
"The glacier? Not the Sea of Moving Ice?"
He shook his head and tapped "glacier" on the slate.
"Anything more specific?"
He shrugged.
Sternly she said, "You haven't offered us much. What can you tell us that's worth our time, and worth the speaker's gratitude?"
He shrugged again, this time with a haughty look. He seemed almost bored.
She looked at Dejen. She hadn't really expected much, but figured Gant must know something.
"Perhaps he can tell us of the other wizards," Dejen suggested. To Gant he said, "There are four wizards here. What to you know about Avarice?"
He raised his eyebrows. Albino tiefling?
"Yes."
Powerful. Ruthless. Probably working with some evil power like fiend or aboleth. Couldn't prove it.
Pariah didn't know what an aboleth was, but understood the "evil power" part. She asked, "Would the Hosttower care about that?"
He made a silent chuckle and shook his head.
Dejen said, "How about Vellynne Harpell?"
He grinned, looking very amused. Her only power is her family name. Spent her time reanimating cats and rats. Out here, reputation is worthless.
Pariah said, "She's moved up to kobolds and really big wolves."
He made a mildly interested expression.
"Harpell?" the warden asked. "Any relation to Dowell Harpell?"
Pariah and Dejen exchanged a glance. "I don't know," she said. "I haven't heard that name before."
"He serves on the Lords' Alliance."
Gant scribbled on the slate. Same family. Distant cousins.
That was an interesting coincidence, Pariah thought.
Dejen asked, "What about Dzaan? I don't know if he has a last name. That's the only name we've heard."
Red Wizard of Thay.
"And?" Pariah asked, though the question was directed at Dejen.
The dark-skinned man was drawing horizontal lines in the air, his way of looking through his vast store of knowledge. "I remember something about them...Ah, here it is. Wizards. Ruling class of Thay. Oh, my, quite unscrupulous. Slavery, demon summoning, some quite disturbing experiments. Want to claim all magic for themselves and themselves alone."
"So more evil wizards?" Pariah asked.
"Yes, though they sound a bit worse than the Hosttower."
With Dzaan being twice dead, Pariah didn't think any more information was helpful. Dejen was distracted reading the invisible words in the air, so she turned to Gant to ask, "What about Nass Lantomir?"
His smug expression faded and he grew very serious. He tapped his ear and made a beckoning gesture. It took her a moment to realize he was asking her to repeat herself.
"Nass Lantomir," she said, tapping Dejen's arm to direct his attention to Gant's reaction.
The warden said, "Human, pale, dark hair, round face, wears shaded spectacles?"
"I don't know," Pariah said, confused. "We've never met her. Why?"
"She came to visit him several months ago, isn't that right, 237?"
He was frowning in thought but nodded after a pause.
Pariah asked, "What did she talk about?"
The same city. I couldn't help her.
After they read that, he took the slate back and started writing again. If she's here, she's the one you should focus on. More of a threat than the others.
Pariah studied his face, looking for a hint of deception. Carefully she said, "Others have told us she's a nobody."
He made a silent scoff of derision and started writing again. A nobody with potential. Everyone underestimated her, but I could see the threat. I was watching her. Skilled diviner, just the person to find a lost city. Knowledge is power.
She continued to look at his expression, but he seemed genuine. "Are you sure?"
With an irritated frown, he tapped the slate to reiterate his message.
"She is the one we haven't come across," Dejen said. "Maybe that's because she's found the city."
"We could tell..." She stopped, looking at Gant. Maybe they shouldn't share all their information. "...the person in Caer-Dineval. She might be able to locate Nass."
"True," Dejen said, and then added, "If you think that's a good plan."
"It's something we can talk about later," she replied. "I think that's all the questions I have. You?"
Dejen shook his head.
"Lulu? You or any of the others?"
The asteri listened and then said, "No, though Zariel agrees we shouldn't trust the person in Caer-Dineval."
"I agree," Pariah said, but again that was a conversation for later. "Well, I guess we're done here." To Gant she said, 'We'll talk to Speaker Shane. If the lead on Nass is useful, I'm sure she'll do what she can to reduce your sentence."
He scoffed and wrote LIAR on the slate.
"I'm not lying," she said.
He shook his head and pointed at the warden.
She looked surprised. "I haven't even said anything that could be a lie."
Increasingly exasperated, he pointed again. Pariah realized he was pointing at the letter than the warden held.
"Oh," Pariah said. "You think Shane is lying."
He nodded and then started writing. Life sentence. Not going to be reduced. Bring me books, chess set, pastries, SOMETHING interesting.
The warden frowned at the slate. "I will wait for Speaker Shane's evaluation of your information and, if she says it was valuable, then we can probably arrange for some kind of minor luxury." She turned to the other two. "If that's all...?"
"I think so," Pariah said.
The warden told the guards, "Take him back to his cell."
Gant put up a hand to stop the guards. He pointed at Dejen's quill and put out his hands in a shrug.
Dejen looked at the wooden implement and said, "Oh, this. Well it has a sort of intelligence and it can store copious amounts of information in an extradimensional space. It's my own invention."
As Dejen started to babble on about the theory behind the object, the guards looked towards the warden. She waved them off with a tired sigh and they stepped back against the wall.
Agneta leaned forward to say softly into Pariah's ear, "Do you think his information was useful?"
"I do," Pariah whispered back. She looked over at Dejen but he was busy. Gant seemed genuinely interested in the magical theory behind the device.
She continued, "He didn't seem to be lying, so maybe Lantomir is a lead."
"Do you think it's what Speaker Shane was looking for?"
Pariah shrugged. "I'm not sure she knew what she was looking for. Like we said, this was a long shot. I guess it's more than we knew an hour ago."
Unfortunately, the only person who might be able to do something with that information was Avarice. Pariah hated the idea of going to her for help, but it was also possible the Netherese city held the power that could stop a god. It might be their only hope to free Icewind Dale from the curse of the Everlasting Rime.
Notes:
The spell the warden described was rime's binding ice.
Vellynne being part of the Harpell family, who is part of the Lords' Alliance, was a fact I stumbled upon quite by accident.
Nass Lantomir is supposed to be a nobody, but considering where the players are supposed to encounter her, it puts her ahead of the other wizards so it makes sense that she's more skilled than they think. She makes a better bread crumb than the out-of-nowhere information that the module uses to take them to the next part.
Chapter 135: The Long Journey Back
Summary:
Disappointed by the limited information they got from Gant, the party spends their last night at Revel's End before heading back to town.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 4, 1496 (4 days after the Full Moon)
The warden finally broke up the magic theory conversation between Dejen and Gant after everyone else in the room had gotten bored. The guards escorted him back to his cell and, after the halls were clear, the warden escorted Pariah, Dejen and Lulu back to the mess hall.
As they walked, Pariah said to the warden, "I assume you don't let any random traveler visit the prisoners."
"Of course not," the warden replied.
"Then how did Lantomir get in?"
Agneta pursed her lips. "She had a letter from Dowell Harpell. As I mentioned, he is a member of the Lords' Alliance."
"You're saying she had the approval of a rival's family member ?" Pariah asked.
"That's what the letter said," the warden replied skeptically. "I'm starting to suspect it was a forgery. I can ask the councilor from Longsaddle the next time they come through, but that won't be for a few weeks."
Dejen said, "I suppose forging a letter from the relative of an enemy might be Nass Lantomir's idea of an amusing prank."
Pariah wondered if Vellynne was an outcast in the Harpell family and Lantomir had been sent to spy on her. Or, as Dejen said, she might have just thought the idea to be funny.
She asked, "How often does the supply ship come through?"
"Once a tenday," Agneta responded, "sometimes less depending on weather."
"And do they take passengers?"
Dejen gave her an inquiring look, and Pariah added quickly, "I'm not looking to leave now, but you and me, we aren't from here. I like these people, but someday I want to go home."
"I suppose that's true," he admitted. Dryly he added, "Not that this isn't a lovely place to live."
Agneta made a derisive snort. "You'd have to talk to the individual captains, but if you have the coin then any of them would probably take you. As for how much..." She shrugged. "At a guess, probably three hundred dragons or more per person."
"Wow," Pariah said.
"The other choice is to brave the mountain pass, but that's very dangerous. There's also the airship, but only the councilors are allowed on that."
"Airship?" Dejen asked as his eyes lit up.
"The Lords' Alliance has a couple that they use to shuffle around dignitaries. One of them makes a run up here monthly, but no amount of money will get you a ride on one of those. You'd have to know someone a lot more important than a town speaker or a prison warden."
Pariah had seen airships a few times in Baldur's Gate. They were built like galleons, with three masts of sails swollen by the wind, and strange panels that stuck out from the sides and seemed to be used to steer while flying. Occasionally they landed in the harbor to approach the docks like a seagoing ship.
She wondered how hard it would be to stow away aboard one, not that she was planning to leave anytime soon.
The warden escorted them through the guard room and into the mess hall through the far door. There the rest of their group were waiting for them. Agneta asked, "Do you need anything else?"
"I don't think so," Pariah said, glancing at the others. "I guess we will be staying a second night after all." A full blizzard had sprung up outside, though they detected little more than a muffled roar from inside the prison.
"All right, then. I imagine we'll see each other at meals in the meantime, but I will be sending a letter to Speaker Shane back with you so be sure to see me before you leave."
"We will," Pariah said.
Agneta gave them a perfunctory nod, and then headed back out the door to the guard room. That left them alone in the mess hall, though they could hear the clank of dishes through the open door to the kitchen.
They gathered around one of the tables. "So?" Pariah said, knowing Zariel would have relayed the details of the interview to the others. "What do you think?"
Zariel replied, "Less than I'd hoped, though I suppose we never really expected a man who has been in prison for so long to have useful information."
"I'm not sure how much of a lead that Lantomir woman will be," Eberic said.
"I agree," Pariah sighed. "But it's more than we had. The problem is how do we find her. The only person we know who might be able to would be Avarice."
A glum mood went around the table.
Zariel said, "As usual, I shall pray for guidance tonight."
Pariah kept her face carefully neutral. She said, "Bjarnson, if you know a name, could the natural forces or whatever find her?"
"I don't think so. Maybe if I knew her myself, though even then it might be a long shot." He leaned in and said more quietly, "But my divinations are something I wanted to talk about."
"Oh?" Pariah said.
"I think we are being watched," he said.
Pariah instinctively looked around the empty mess hall.
"No, not by them," he said. "Well, they probably are watching us too, but that's not what I mean." He paused and then said dramatically, "I saw an owl this morning."
Although the line sounded a bit nonsensical when said in such a heavy tone, she knew they had been spied on by animals before. "You think it wasn't a normal owl?"
"I'm certain it wasn't. I went out this morning before you all woke up to commune with nature. There's a courtyard they use to give the prisoners exercise. The wind was already getting strong but I figured I'd at least get an idea about our travel plans. And that's when I saw the owl."
Nobody spoke; they were all listening intently. He continued, "It was sitting on the wall, not seeking cover from the weather. That was unusual, since it could have sheltered in the lee of the guard tower. It seemed to be watching me specifically. I know that sometimes an animal is just an animal, and I didn't want to be paranoid. So I asked."
"Asked who?" Pariah said.
He waved around him. "The natural energies around me. Rather than seeking signs about travel and weather, I looked for signs about watching. And I felt it: an energy coming from the owl as it gazed at me. An intelligence, but something foreign and cold and uncaring. It was like a block of ice was examining me. And, honestly, it was a presence that struck fear in me."
Eberic made a skeptical grunt and leaned back. However, Pariah had been around enough immortals to realize this might be something important. "You think it was Auril?"
He furrowed his brow. "No, or at least not directly. Maybe one of her followers, probably one of the frost druids. I don't know if the owl itself was a druid, or if it was a servant. But it was definitely watching."
Dejen asked, "And you are certain it was watching you and not the prison?"
Bjarnson leaned on his elbows as he considered the question. "You know, I didn't think to ask about that. I suppose it might be watching the prison, or one of the prisoners or staff. Then again," he shrugged, "we've been making trouble."
"Great," Pariah sighed. She found herself looking around the room. She saw nothing as obvious as an owl, but for all she knew there could be a druid in the form of a spider watching from the shadowy ceiling. "We're probably safe inside here, but the trip back might be interesting."
"We'd be hard to ambush," Eberic said. "If they attack us immediately when we leave, the guards would likely come to our aid to protect the prison if nothing else. Once we are on the move, there is nothing but wilderness out there. We won't be on a road."
"True," Bjarnson said thoughtfully. "They might lay a trap along the cliff or along the Bleakrun, since we'd likely navigate along one of those on our way back." He scratched his thick, red beard. "We might try going south and spending more time in the open tundra. Worst case, we miss the Bleakrun and reach Maer Dualdon, but then we just follow that shore back to Termalaine." He blew out a breath. "Well, that's something to think about tomorrow."
Eleasis 5, 1496 (5 days after the Full Moon)
The storm blew itself out overnight, and the next morning was dead calm. Bjarnson meditated outside and came in with a concerned look. He said that he felt a sense of danger regarding their trip, but he didn't know if that meant weather or something else. Regardless, it was time to head back.
Before they left, Pariah dropped off a letter with Councilor Torbo. The woman was headed back to Baldur's Gate in two weeks via airship and agreed to take the letter to Rowan at the Lady's Hall. Pariah wasn't sure that any of her previous correspondence would make it to its destination, considering the difficult route. She had a little more confidence that the councilor would see it delivered.
The warden also gave them several letters sealed with blobs of gray wax. One was a report to the speaker of Bryn Shander regarding their interview with Vaelish Gant. The others were brief letters to the speakers of Easthaven, Good Mead, Caer-Dineval and Caer-Konig. Each contained a list of relatives of prison staff who lived in those towns, asking how they had fared in the dragon attack. None of the staff had relatives in Dougan's Hole.
They debated about leaving very early, but decided to stay for one more hearty breakfast at the prison. This morning it had been a casserole of sausage, potatoes and cheese served with blueberry biscuits and plenty of coffee. With a long trip ahead, they had all eaten their fill.
Although they were all in a hurry to get back to town, they still took time to make sure all of their confiscated items were returned before heading out. It would not be easy to retrieve something left behind. Everything seemed to be there, so Bjarnson led the way south. It was about nine in the morning by Dejen's timepiece before they got moving.
The moon was just above the horizon, though its waxing form cast only dim light. Pariah kept an eye out for owls or other suspicious creatures, but saw nothing other than a white-feathered hawk to the west, probably looking for prey along the ocean cliff.
Pariah had offered to pilot the sled, but Bjarnson said he preferred to be at the reins in case something happened. He was anxious, which made Pariah anxious. She made sure her bow was easy to access. She rode with her shield strapped on for the first hour or two, but eventually she decided that was overkill, so took it off but put it on top of her pack so it would be quick to grab.
The distant hump of Kelvin's Cairn on the horizon made an easy navigation reference in the clear, still air. They weren't headed directly towards it, but close enough that it grew slightly bigger as they traveled. The obvious progress helped quell the anxiety that Pariah sometimes felt when they were traveling in bad weather, unsure if they were going in circles.
The moon set about the time the darkness started to fade in the east. The yellow light of the moon was replaced by the bluish light of pre-dawn. As the hour approached noon, they were passing through an area that had once been a sparse forest, though now it was a field of dead trees, withered by two years of no direct sunlight. These white-barked trees had no needles like most of the surviving ones they'd seen closer to town. Maybe they weren't as suited for the endless winter as the evergreens were. She leaned forward to ask Bjarnson about that.
Before she could speak, he suddenly pulled back on the reins shouting, "Whoa!" as he pulled back the brake. The dogs yelped and Pariah looked past him in alarm. The team had run into a field of slush. The dogs had sunk in to their haunches and were struggling to get out. The snow had become like quicksand.
Eberic had been driving to the left, though a bit further back. As Pariah watched, the slushy snow spread in front of his team as he tried to stop them. He succeeded, but the first few dogs went into the muck. They floundered as the rest of the team tried to pull back, but it was just creating chaos.
"By the tree!" Bjarnson yelled as he continued to struggle with the reins. "To the left!"
Pariah saw a humanoid shape duck behind a withered trunk about a hundred feet ahead. She drew her sword and ignited it, but rather than grabbing her shield, she drew the cold into her left hand and looked around at the other trees. The mysterious figure was too far away to strike at, but she knew that ambushes weren't usually just one person.
The snow on either side of the sled swelled up into two ragged piles taller than she was. The snow on the edges of the piles formed into crudely shaped arms, and the bottom split into something like stumpy legs. Although they were vaguely humanoid in shape, they had no eyes or other facial features. That didn't stop them from attacking her and Bjarnson.
It slammed a fist into her chest, knocking her breath away and chilling her to the bone. She let the cold energy in her hand dissipate, reasoning that it wouldn't hurt a pile of snow. She managed to parry its other blow, the snow melting and sizzling against the flames the burned along the blade but a third arm punched out of the center of the creature, catching her by surprised as it slammed into her stomach.
She groped for her shield, not wanting to take her eyes off the creature, and managed to grab the edge. She slashed her flaming blade across the snow, melting a deep gash into the pile. She pressed her attack and the construct was unable to defend against the fire. It melted into a puddle as she struck over and over.
Bjarnson was using his staff in one hand to guide a ball of flame, pressing it into the other snow pile as it batted him with snowy arms. His other hand held the reins, trying to guide the dogs out of the huge slush puddle that most of the team was still struggling to get out of.
Ahead of them, Haol was charging past the edge of the slush field, carrying Zariel towards the tree where they had seen movement. She had her sword raised and it glowed brightly, illuminating the dim landscape around them. A figure tried to scramble away to stay behind the withered trunk, but Haol was too fast and maneuverable on the powdery snow. They came around the trunk and Zariel slashed down with the sword.
In the light of the weapon, Pariah could see the figure was a woman, probably human. She wore pelts as white as Bjarnson's cloak of crag cat fur, and half of her copper-colored face was covered in white makeup. She tried to block the blow with a gnarled staff, but Zariel's swing was too powerful and knocked the staff aside to cut through her furs. A bright blast of light caused the woman to stagger back. Despite her lack of snow shoes, the woman didn't sink into the soft snow.
She abandoned defense to raise her hands and call out something Pariah couldn't understand. It cost her a bad cut along her arm, and red now stained the white of her furs, but a woody vine burst out of the snow behind Haol and wrapped itself around Zariel. It yanked her out of her saddle and pulled her back. She landed on her back and skidded along the snow.
The strange woman transformed into a white-feathered hawk and took off into the sky. Haol snapped at it with his heavy beak, but caught only air. Zariel, still on her back, rolled to bring her shield to bear on the fleeing hawk, even though it was a good twenty feet away. The rising sun on her shield flashed, and another flash appeared around the bird, which went limp and fell to the snow.
Haol ran over to try to pin the bird to the snow, but the bird transformed into a polar bear. The sudden change in size knocked Haol off balance and he stepped back. A heavy mist condensed suddenly out of the dry air around them, obscuring Zariel, Haol and the stranger. A white hawk shot up out of the top of the fog and took to the sky, beating its wings to gain altitude.
Pariah sheathed her sword, dropped the shield she still hadn't strapped to her forearm, and snatched up her bow. She nocked an arrow and took aim, trying to calm her breath. It was a small target moving quickly, but it was moving in a straight line, going for speed rather than evasion. She released the arrow and it sailed through the air, just a little too high, but then gravity brought it down and it pierced the hawk's body. The bird fell, transforming to a woman before she hit the snow with a puff of white.
Bjarnson's bulk blocked her vision of the woman, so Pariah leapt out of the sled as she nocked another arrow. She sank in past her ankles, but she didn't need to be maneuverable. She sighted down the shaft at the shape in the distance. It wasn't moving, but Pariah loosed another arrow anyhow. It struck; the figure remained still.
Pariah could hear fighting behind her but didn't want to take her eyes off what was probably the real enemy. "How are the others?" she asked.
He looked behind her. "Two more back there. One's on fire; Dejen must have hit it with that oil shooter he has. The other...oh, there he goes. It's down."
"Anything else here?"
Bjarnson cast a quick look around before returning his attention to the team. "No."
The fog bank had faded as abruptly as it had appeared. Zariel had freed herself from the vine and reached Haol. She vaulted onto his back, and he charged over to the body as she raised her shining sword. They stopped and Zariel looked down at the body before sheathing her weapon, turning to the group, and making a flat gesture with her hand. Pariah didn't know what the gesture meant, but got the gist of it as Haol started trotting back.
"How are the dogs?" Pariah asked, lowering her bow and putting the arrow back in the quiver.
The sled shifted to the side as the dogs thrashed in the slush, trying to get to solid ground. "They don't look hurt. Slush isn't deep. We should stop to dry them off."
"Fine with me," Pariah sighed. She finally looked behind them to see a pile of snow that burned with a stream of black smoke, and another one that Eberic watched suspiciously. Their dog team had also gone into the half-melted snow field, but it had been only the lead dogs and they were already out and trying to shake off the slush.
"So who the hell was that?" Pariah asked as Zariel trotted up.
The woman shook her head. "I think it was the same person who attacked us with the giant spiders."
"Right," Pariah said, trying to remember what Bjarnson had called her at the time. "Frost druid?"
They both looked at Bjarnson, who didn't see their glances because he was focused on getting the last of the dogs out of the slush.
Pariah turned towards the other sled and shouted, "Bring the warming stone."
"No, don't bother," Bjarnson called out. "That will just melt the snow here." She heard anxiety in his tone as he looked around. He pointed ahead. "Let's just dry them off for now. The top of that hill might be high enough to not have much snow. We might be able to take a rest there."
There was a rise in the distance, she wasn't sure how far off. It looked as snowy as anything else, but she trusted his knowledge of the area. "All right, how can we help?"
At his guidance, they all took blankets and started rubbing down the dogs to clear the slush from their fur as best they could. Pariah could feel how cold the pads of their feet were, and she sensed their discomfort. She knew they were tough and built for this environment, but she still worried.
During this time, Zariel and Haol went back to the body to look for any information on who this woman was. She returned while they were still working on the dogs. "I found this," she said, showing them a charm on a leather cord. It was in the shape of the six-pointed star of Auril, but was made of small bones rather than metal like the other ones they'd seen. That confirmed what they had already suspected; the attacks were coming from Auril and her servants.
Eberic asked, "Anything that points to a larger group? From what Bjarnson said, these people aren't part of the cult in town."
"That's true," Bjarnson replied. "In fact they are probably rivals to them. She might have been working alone, or she might have been part of a druid circle."
Zariel shook her head. "I could find no evidence either way. However, Pariah, I did find these." She held out three rolled up parchments.
Pariah hadn't really been listening since her attention was focused on rubbing down the dogs, and it took her a moment to realize Zariel had said her name. "Hmm?" she said distractedly as she looked up and saw what was being offered to her. She took the scrolls, "What are these?"
"I don't know," Zariel said. "I can't read them. I thought you could."
Pariah unrolled one of them. The parchment was crudely made, thicker and stiffer than most of the scrolls and pages she'd come across before. It still had some animal hairs on the back. There was writing on both sides, small characters to cram as much information as possible on the limited surfaces.
It wasn't like any writing she'd seen. There were characters from the Thorass alphabet used to write Chondathan, but there were also characters she didn't recognize and small diagrams. Some of the diagrams were arcane others were...not? She wasn't sure. It all looked like it was written in the same hand.
"Can you read it?" Zariel asked after Pariah had been silent for a long time.
"I'm not sure," the tiefling said as she puzzled over it. There were words she could read because she was literate, others she could read because of her magical ability, but still others eluded her. "It appears to be talking about natural magic. Bjarnson, does this mean anything to you?"
He looked up from the dog he was drying off to glance at the page. His brow furrowed. "There are elements of Reghedjic in there, but they are scattered around almost at random."
"Reghedjic?" Pariah asked.
"The language of the Reghed nomads," he explained. "It’s not usually written down, but there is technically an old alphabet that was used. I don't know it, but I recognize the script."
"Do you know what this is for?"
He studied it with a frown before shaking his head. "It's nonsense to me. I agree it might be about natural magic, but I'm no scholar." He went back to his ministrations.
Dejen peered over her shoulder. "Interesting," he said. "I can't say I've seen anything like this, though I recognize some of the arcane symbols." He pointed to a diagram.
Pariah continued to stare at it so hard she was getting a headache. She could almost understand it. She forced herself to roll up the parchment. "I'll look at this later and see if I can make any sense of it." She would like to learn more about the natural magical forces she was trying to tap into. She unrolled a second one and it appeared to be more of the same.
"There were several more," Zariel said. "Do you want me to get them?"
"Sure," Pariah replied as she stowed the three scrolls in her pack. "Maybe there's something in there that will be useful to us."
She went back to work and Zariel eventually brought five more scrolls, which Pariah put with the rest. After they had done what they could for the dogs, they mounted again and ran across the snow at a sprint towards the rise ahead.
Notes:
The module offhandedly mentions that the prison has a dock for airships but says nothing more. From my research, information on airships in Forgotten Realms is inconsistent -- shocking, I know! So of course I've kind of made up my own lore.
The presence of the councilor from Baldur's Gate is from the module. It was a nice coincidence that gave Pariah another chance to try to get a letter home.
The creatures were snow golems, a monster unique to the module. The scrolls they found are collectively an object based on the primers in Strixhaven. It gives a boost to Survival and Nature, and each day (not each long rest) she can choose a 1st-level Druid/Ranger spell that she can cast without using a spell slot.
Chapter 136: Scrolls of the Frost Druid
Summary:
Unsure what to do next, the party returns to Termalaine.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eleasis 5, 1496 (5 days after the Full Moon)
Pariah sat at the bar in The Eastside with one of the scrolls rolled out in front of her. Her notebook was open and she was chewing the end of a pencil as she tried to make sense of what she was reading. A forgotten mug of tea on the bar had grown cold.
Bjarnson sat down on the stool next to her. "Any luck?" he asked, wincing slightly.
Pariah, still hunched over the scroll, looked at him with concern. "How are you doing?" He'd suffered the worst of it in the ambush. His injuries hadn't been too bad compared to what they'd been through before, but he was going to need a couple of days.
"Better," he said. "Zariel prayed over me a bit, and Marta let me in the kitchen to make a little curative brew. I should probably go lay down, but I'm too stubborn to listen to my own advice."
"OK, Eberic," she joked. Bjarnson grinned at her.
She sat up straighter. "As for this," she waved at the scroll, "I'm making a little progress. I think." The change in position made her realize how much her spine hurt between her shoulder blades, so she raised her arms in a stretch to work out the kink. "At first I thought she was insane, but I think she's just disorganized. It's like she wrote stuff down as she thought about it. And the parchment is badly prepared. The ink is...well, I'm not sure what it is. I'm kind of afraid to find out, but I don't think it's regular ink. There are places where she washed off the ink to write something else, but some of the previous writing didn't quite disappear so it's hard to read anything. Other places where the ink just rubbed off on its own." She shook her head. "It's a mess."
"Anything useful in there? Like about Auril or anything?"
Pariah took a sip of her cold tea while she thought about what she'd read. "There is a lot of stuff about weather, seasons, animal migrations, a design for a snare trap for small game, and so on. Survival stuff that you probably already know." She cocked her head. "But all through it is talk of the soul of the earth, or something like that. The natural energies that tie everything together, like all of nature is a single entity that..." She struggled to find the words. "Like there is mention of Auril and Malar and so on, but they are manifestations of the true god, the single god that is the natural world." She made a frustrated noise. "Does that make sense?"
"Sort of," he said. "I think you might be trying to force your own knowledge of religion and magic and nature onto what she is saying, and that might be why you are having trouble understanding." He trailed off as he tried to think of an example. "You speak Chondathan and Jotun, but the languages are different. The structure of the languages, the grammar and sentence structure and so on. If you took Jotun words and arranged them according to Chondathan rules, it would be hard to understand."
Pariah made a thoughtful noise as she considered what he said. "That might be true."
"I've heard the way you talk about the gods." He glanced over at one of the tables, where Dejen was trying to teach Zariel how to play nine men's morris and, from the confused look on the woman's face, not having much luck. Lulu was nowhere to be seen, probably off exploring the rest of the inn. Bjarnson looked back at Pariah and lowered his voice. "And the way Zariel talks about them as well. It's not that the gods aren't real, but you have a very structured view of religion and divine hierarchy. There are those that believe that Nature, with a capital N, is an entity that precedes the gods, a truly elder being that is beyond comprehension. It's not an intelligence like we recognize, but it is alive. We are no more elevated in the eyes of Nature than the beasts and the trees and the blades of grass, than the wind and the snow and the mountains. We all share the same spiritual essence, all part of one great community."
Pariah also glanced over at Zariel. "And where do gods and angels and devils fit into all that."
He grimaced. "I don't think they do, and that's part of the problem. These Outsiders come in and they don't understand it. It doesn't understand them. The Outsiders try to codify and subjugate Nature. They impose their religions and get control of some fraction of the power, but Nature lives on. I don't know if it even sees them."
"And what happens when it does see them?" Pariah asked.
He gave her a half grin. "I think it might be angry. It might just kick the interlopers out."
She studied him. "Is that really what your faith is?"
He chuckled and made a dismissive wave. "I don't really try to define my beliefs. The world is as it is. The gods are part of it, for better or worse. I just make my way through it from day to day." He looked at the scroll again. "Anything in there about the Everlasting Rime?"
"No," she sighed. "She mentions the change in climate, but nothing about the cause and certainly nothing about the solution." Pariah's brow furrowed in thought. "If she worships Nature, wouldn't she want to stop some god who usurps that power?"
"Maybe," he shrugged. "But maybe she thought this was all part of Nature's plan."
"Do you?" Pariah took another sip of cold tea.
"I don't think Nature makes plans. Again, that's imposing the idea of motive and intellect onto a mind that isn't anything like us. So you don't think there's anything useful here?"
"I didn't say that. It's still interesting information, especially some of the musings on magic and energy and the elements. Between the stuff you've taught me and the magic I've been able to do, I can sort of make sense of it. I mean almost." She huffed in frustration. "It's like I can see the words and get it in my mind, but as soon as I stop reading it fades pretty quickly."
She looked around the inn. Remembering the couple of times Dejen had experimented with magic while indoors, she said, "Look, I want to try something, but maybe not in here. Could you come outside with me?"
"Sure," he shrugged.
They fetched their cloaks and headed out. It was moonless and dark other than the lights from the lanterns hanging from the front of the inn. The air was quiet, though a gentle wind was starting to come in from the lake. She looked around and, though they were at the edge of town, she was still a little worried about the effect of what she was going to try. She headed past the inn out into the darkness. Bjarnson summoned a flame to light their way as they moved out into the empty land. There wasn't much snow here, since the winds from the lake tended to keep the ground relatively clear.
"This is good," she said. "You might want to move away a couple of steps...maybe one more. All right, that should be good."
She opened the scroll and then realized she couldn't read it. Her night vision didn't provide enough contrast in the darkness. "Maybe you better come over here after all," she said.
Bjarnson came up to stand behind her, and now she could read in the light of the flame he held in his palm. He peeked over her shoulder to study the scroll.
She focused on the words. They shaped the magic, she could see that, but they didn't stick in her brain. Maybe it was because it was a language she didn't know, even though her power let her read them. She knew what they translated to in her head, but also knew they had to be read as they sounded.
Struggling over the syllables, she said, "Jerðerendér hroste juðörne," and then stamped her foot down. The ground shook with a deep rumble, and cracks radiated out for a stride or two in all directions. Pariah had been expecting the tremor but Bjarnson stumbled back and fell on his ass, the flame in his hand going out and plunging them into darkness.
The shaking was gone in a moment. She looked down at Bjarnson guiltily. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine," he laughed as he stood. "Nothing but my pride. That was quite impressive. Maybe you'll learn some new magic after all. You want to try it again? I'll stand further away this time."
She was surprisingly drained by the effort. "No," she said. "I think that's enough experimentation." She looked at the disturbed earth that surrounded her. "And maybe I'll look at some of the less destructive magic."
He lit his flame and they headed back inside, stepping carefully over the broken earth. It didn't look like this particular piece of land was used for anything, so no harm done. She was certainly glad she'd decided to step outside, though.
They stepped back into the inn to see that the few customers were alert and looking around in mild alarm. "Sorry," Pariah called out sheepishly. "That was me. Nothing to worry about."
"You can make the ground shake?" Dejen asked from the other room.
She went in to see he and Zariel were still at the game table. She held up the scroll. "Sort of. There are some theories about elemental magic in here."
"Really?" he said, excited. "I would quite like to read it when you are done."
"I'm not sure it would make sense, since only pieces of it are in Chondathan," she said hesitantly. "But I could let you look over my notes."
"That would be wonderful," he beamed.
In the evening, the group joined Eberic and Marrit at The Blue Clam Tavern for a dinner of spicy clam chowder. Bjarnson decided to turn in early after eating. Eberic mentioned that there were some axe throwing targets out back, which had piqued Dejen's curiosity, so the two of them had headed out; Lulu had tagged along to watch. Pariah had tried axe throwing before but it was a game of strength and her spindly arms weren't suited for the activity.
Pariah, Marrit and Zariel were sitting in a circle on the floor in one corner. The tavern had bench seating in front of the fires but no tables. It was common for people to sit on the floor to play cards or, as they were doing now, dice. Specifically they were playing bones, though a slightly different variation on the game than Pariah was used to. They were playing for coppers. Zariel had lost more than a few games, but Pariah and Marrit were running about even with each other.
The tavern was loud with conversation and laughter. It was a pleasant change after the grim atmosphere in the eastern towns, but then these people weren't recovering from a dragon attack. Marrit seemed relaxed, but Zariel was uncomfortable and stiff. She kept stealing glances at the dwarven woman. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was on her mind.
As Pariah watched Marrit scoop up the latest pot, she asked, "So I've been wondering about something: what changed Eberic's mind? He seemed pretty adamant about leaving."
Marrit didn't look up as she tossed one of the copper nibs back into the middle of the circle. "I think Gafne's death had a lot to do with it," she said, leaning back. "He knew that the man who did it was just a tool, that it was really Auril to blame. Justice for Gafne means stopping the lotteries, and that means stopping Auril."
Marrit gave Zariel an appraising look. "He's not sure what to make of you, though."
Zariel dropped her eyes. "I assume he told you about me. My past." She and Pariah added their coins to the ante.
"He did," Marrit nodded. "It's pretty hard to believe. Not sure I would believe it if you weren't traveling with an angel already." She looked at Pariah. "But it's true isn't it."
"It is," the tiefling confirmed. "But so is her effort to redeem herself."
"I suppose," Marrit said. She looked down at the collection of three copper pieces on the floor. "I assume he told you about what happened at Dwarven Valley during the Sundering."
"The black ice?" Pariah asked. "Yeah. And he said that a lot of the people never recovered."
"Some did," she said gloomily. "A lot didn't." She turned to Pariah again. "Did you know her? Before?" She rolled three dice and the other two followed suit.
It took Pariah a moment to realized that she meant Zariel. "No," she said, "but Lulu did. And Lulu stood up for her even when she was at her worst. She always had faith she could find her way back."
Marrit nodded distantly. "That's something, I guess." She sighed heavily. "I don't even know what to say about this. I didn't push him either way. He talked it out himself." To Zariel she said, "He doesn't trust you, but he thinks the bunch of you might be the best chance to end the Everlasting Rime. I hope that's true. Roll." She tossed another nib into the pot and rolled another die.
Zariel gave her a hesitant smile. "I will not rest until the Morninglord's glory has returned to this land."
Marrit didn't return her expression. "You understand that if you hurt my husband, I will find a way to make you regret it."
Zariel's smile faded. Gravely she said, "I would expect nothing less. Roll." She put in a copper piece and rolled.
Marrit furrowed her brow. "And he said something about working with a wizard at Caer-Dineval, and how she's evil, but he didn't say more. Couldn't say more I guess because of a spell or something."
"Avarice," Pariah nodded. "I don't trust her at all, but she may be the ally we need. And, yeah, we can't talk about what's really going on there. I certainly trust Zariel far more than I trust Avarice. Roll." She put in her bet and rolled a fourth die.
"But you think it's a good idea to work with her?"
"No," Pariah snorted. "I just don't know an alternative. Sometimes using one bad thing to fight another is the best you can do. And if it breaks the Everlasting Rime, then that's good for everyone."
"I guess it depends on the cost," Marrit said. "Stand."
Zariel said, "I am probably the most reluctant in our group to work with Avarice. I feel we would be better off finding our own way. Roll."
Pariah replied gloomily, "The only other people who would have the knowledge and power we need would be the other Luskan wizards: one dead, one missing, and one with an army of undead. Roll."
Zariel nodded. "Choosing between an necromancer and a worshiper of..." She froze and then continued, "...a being I do not trust." She studied her dice. "What happens in a tie?"
"Either they split the pot or the pot is carried into the next hand. I guess we never said. I'm used to split the pot rules."
"That's fine with me," Zariel replied. She looked at Marrit who shrugged. Zariel said, "Then I'll stand."
Both of them had 18 and Pariah had 15, so she tossed in another copper and said, "Roll." It came up a three.
She grinned. "Three way tie. Well that's no fun; I'll roll." She put in another nib, bringing the pot up to ten coppers.
She rolled a 6.
"Busted," she said. "Take it."
The other two each took five nibs. "What if there had been an uneven number of coins?" Zariel asked.
"The extras stay in for the next round."
They each put in a copper coin for the new ante and rolled their initial dice. Marrit asked Zariel, "Why don't you trust Helm?"
Zariel looked confused. "What makes you think I don't trust Helm?"
"You called Avarice a worshiper of someone you don't trust. She's a Helmite, right?"
Zariel exchanged a wary glance with Pariah. "Yes, that is the story that is told," she said cagily.
Marrit frowned at her. "What does that mean?" And then the light dawned. "Oh, I think I get it. They don't worship Helm. That's something to do with the spell."
Zariel's only response was, "Roll," and she placed her bet and rolled her die.
"What a mess," Marrit sighed. "Does this spell make you do anything else?"
"I don't think so," Zariel replied, again looking at Pariah.
"I think she's right," the tiefling said. "I haven't noticed anything. Roll."
Marrit rolled her die. "It's not making you agree to work with her?"
Pariah opened her mouth to say no, but then stopped. She hadn't considered that before. She looked at Zariel, "I don't think so?" she said in a questioning tone.
Zariel scowled. "I don't either. It's not like we have obeyed her every command. Even now, we search for alternatives." Her frown deepened. "But it's hard to be sure."
Pariah asked, "Is it something he'd do? Coerce cooperation?"
"Would he? Certainly, under the right circumstances. He'd use whatever means necessary. But he'd rather people give their service to him voluntarily, even if under duress or out of desperation. And voluntary service gives him..." She stopped and struggled for words. "...other benefits," she finished. "Roll."
Marrit asked, "And you need her help? You can't do it on your own? From what Eberic has told me, you all have access to some serious power."
"Maybe," Pariah admitted. "But it would take longer. We're, what, about a tenday from another new moon and another round of sacrifices? The more time we take, the more people die. Roll." She rolled her die.
"That's true," Marrit said. "Eberic and I have been trying to think of anyone else who might be of help. Roll."
"Man, we are rolling low," Pariah said. Nobody had above a ten yet with 9 coins in the pot already.
Marrit continued, "Elfried here in town can do a little magic, enough to break up the frozen ground for digging graves, but doesn't feel up to taking on gods. Eberic said there was a woman in Bryn Shander -- Graysteel?"
"Graysteel," Pariah confirmed. "We'll check in with her again, but she's chasing some theory about the chwingas that doesn't seem to be going anywhere."
Zariel rolled her die.
Marrit said, "And some kind of junk collector in Caer-Dineval?"
It took Pariah a moment to think of who she meant. "Culver?" She considered the idea. "He has a lot of weird bits of knowledge. I mean maybe." She asked Zariel, "Did we ever ask him about the Rime? Roll."
"I don't think so," the other woman said. "We checked the library in Easthaven, yes? I mean you and Dejen have."
"We did. Nothing special."
Marrit asked, "And the priests scattered around Ten-Towns? Do they have any ideas? Roll."
Sourly Pariah said, "Besides the ones murdered by the Aurilites? I guess we haven't asked them. We probably should."
Zariel put another coin in the pot. "I will continue to pray for guidance. Roll."
Pariah looked at the six Zariel rolled, the first number above a three she'd seen on this pot. She nodded towards it and joked, "Maybe that was a sign from Lathander that he agrees with you. Roll."
She rolled a one, and Zariel said lightly, "And maybe that's a sign you shouldn't mock him."
Pariah laughed. "Well, I wish he'd do something more helpful than mess up my dice."
Zariel and Marrit both stood on 17. Pariah rolled again and got a five, for 18 total. "Ha! Do I give credit to Lathander or Tymora for that one. Or maybe Tempus?"
As Pariah pulled in the sixteen copper nibs, Zariel said, "We will continue to look for answers, but in absence of other directions, I fear we will be forced to make unsavory allies for the good of the people of Ten-Towns."
Pariah picked up her half-full mug of watered-down mead. "Road to Hell," she toasted sardonically, and took a drink.
Notes:
To create Pariah's incantation, I took Icelandic for "Spirits of earth, shake the ground" and then I shifted the vowels. Anyone who actually knows Icelandic will take psychic damage from reading it.
The dice game was Baldur's Bones from Descent Into Avernus, though with the variation that you have to bet every time you roll. And, yes, I actually rolled the dice because I'm weird. They really did get a 3-way tie on 18 in the first game, and they really did roll LOTS of 1s and 2s in the second game.