Battered, bloodied and bruised, the adventurers opted to celebrate their victory over the Cragmaw Goblins with a well-deserved rest. Ragnar returned from the castle’s entrance in a roundabout fashion, picking up bits of treasure and other items that caught his attention before returning to Grol’s throne room with an armload of goodies. “Here, monk,” he said, tossing Theryn a fine quarterstaff he had discovered amidst a jumble of hobgoblin weapons in the armory. Theryn caught the staff easily and was surprised by its lightness. He gave it a few trial spins and thought he heard the sound of an eagle’s scream, as though from a great distance. He shook his head to clear the noise. Ragnar also showed the monk a small gold statuette he had fished out of a coal bin, likely hidden there by an enterprising goblin who didn’t want to share his treasure. Wrapped in a crimson cloth, it was a lifelike likeness of a sun elf with small gems set in its eyes. It felt warm in Theryn’s hand, as though it was generating its own heat. Theryn added it to his collection. “Now, to bed!” Ragnar said and strutted towards Grol’s four-post bed. “Lice,” Varien warned. “Right.” Ragnar turned to look at the weary paladin. “Tell you what. You catch some shut-eye and I will take first watch.” Erwen was already snoring, leaning against the stone block wall. The rest of the party grabbed whatever comfortable space they could and tried to get some sleep. Ragnar barricaded the southern door with the wreckage left over from the fight, scooped some coals back into the brazier, and lit it, cooking some salted pork as he searched the room. He rooted through Vyerith’s discarded clothing with only a modicum of shame, finding amid the leather straps and undergarments a holster that would fit the new hand crossbow. He also found a sack of gold coins – likely the Black Spider’s payoff to Grol for handing over Gundren and the map. The map! Ragnar checked around the doppelganger’s corpse and found the folded parchment. He recalled that Xylon was in possession of Gundren’s empty map case, and resolved to nick it from him at the first opportunity. Hours passed, with only the sound of the wind having its way with Cragmaw Castle’s unstable roof breaking the silence of the battle’s aftermath. Then, as Ragnar got ready to wake Theryn, who was up for next watch, he heard something outside the throne room door. Ragnar drew a blade and tiptoed to the nearest arrow slit, checking the forest to see if there was any action outdoors. The trees looked menacing even in the artificial light of Clockdrive’s goggles. Their gnarled limbs seemed to reach out towards the castle. But he saw no movement outside. Ragnar returned to Theryn’s side and shook him awake. “Do you hear that?” “Who, the Sandman taking me off to the Land of Nod?” Theryn mumbled. “No, listen!” Theryn blinked sleep from his eyes and listened. The two of them could hear footsteps in the corridor outside the throne room and the occasional harsh whisper. Goblins. Ragnar and Theryn listened as the padding of feet receded somewhat. Then they heard the sound of wood dragging on stone, and then the clatter of something heavy dropping on the floor. The adventurers exchanged a look. From outside their barricaded door, the whispering goblins suddenly began scampering out of earshot, their whispers growing more excited. Then an ear-splitting roar shattered the silence in Cragmaw Castle, so loud it sent dust and pebbles raining down from the rafters. “What the hell was that?” Theryn asked. “Nothing, I’m sure,” Ragnar said, making sure his knives were all snug in their sheaths. Erwen was still dozing nearby. “Guys, that’s an owlbear,” he said without opening his eyes. “Oh dear,” Ragnar said. He turned to the rest of the party, who had been roused from their slumber by the creature’s howl. “May I suggest sitting tight while Theryn and I check things out?” Alec and Bob nodded. “We’ll carry the dwarf out if it comes to that,” Bob said. Ragnar opened the northern door that opened into nothing but a half-collapsed antechamber and beckoned to Theryn. “This way.” Theryn hefted his new quarterstaff and followed. The rogue and monk quietly picked their way through the rubble and found themselves in the northern section of the castle. They could neither see nor hear any sign of the goblin interlopers. “Let’s circle back through the castle and see what we can see,” whispered Ragnar. Theryn nodded assent. This section of the castle had almost completely collapsed, although the ground floor still had a little open space to move around in. A lone pillar, its top end sheared off at an abrupt angle, still stood proudly amid the rubble. Rotting crates and ancient barrels showed that provisions were once stored here. Heavy curtains blocked a crumbling area to the south, and a sturdy door led back east to the corridor outside the throne room. A piece of canvas coloured to match the stone exterior had been pulled down, letting a forest breeze in through a large crack in the castle wall and fresh tracks led in and out through a short passage leading outside. As Theryn moved past a pile of pallets, a black-fletched arrow thudded into the wood next to his head. The monk froze as he heard goblin giggles from outside the castle. Varien stood watch at the door Ragnar and Theryn had left through. He fidgeted impatiently. He heard the sound of goblin laughter from outside. “Okay, that tears it,” he muttered, and threw the door open, rushing to aid his friends. Bob and Alec sat near one another at the stone brazier, watching the injured dwarf Gundren sleep a fitful sleep. “So,” Alec said. “Your letters stopped coming. How are things with the family?” “Things are pretty much the same,” Bob said. “Grandfather’s long gone, but the rest of us are keeping well.” “I see,” Alec said. “They ever ask about me?” Bob didn’t reply. “And what about you?” Alec said. “Still trying to find the roots of our family tree?” Bob smiled at that. “Well, Grandfather told me a thing or two that got me interested in discovering more about my-I mean our heritage. I’ve been having these weird dreams, Alec. And you know about my…condition,” he patted his forearms. “I felt a certain pull, something drawing me south from Kirkwall.” “So you’ve gone on the road to find yourself,” Alec said. “That why the letters stopped?” “You haven’t written back in a while yourself,” Bob continued. “What news from the battlefield?” “Battlefield isn’t the word for it,” Alec snorted. “They promised us a war, but it was more like patrol after patrol of the High Road while guerrillas from Luskan snipe at you from the shadows. The last out-and-out fight we had cost us our commander, and Lord Neverember canceled our contract. So me and my buddies struck out on our own as sell-swords.” “As one does,” Bob said. “We headed to Helm’s Hold looking for work, the five of us,” Alec continued, his expression growing somber. “We took a job from this wizard named Haladar – he needed an escort into Neverwinter Wood for him and his companions. I guess they had some sort of magical stone in their possession; they were real hush-hush about it. The wizard would consult the rock and tell us to alter our course through the forest – we were well off the beaten path already, and we thought we’d have tree sap in our hair for the rest of our days.” Bob grinned. “When the explorers thought us grunts weren’t listening, they’d talk about a “seeing stone” or “scrying stone” and they mentioned a place called Sharandar,” Alec continued. “We marched for days until the trees seemed to blot out all light.” He shook his head. “Haladar kept saying he knew the way, but he led us right into a goblin ambush.” Bob’s grin faded. “Arrows rained down from all sides,” Alec said. “Half the squad was dead in as much time as it takes to tell. Haladar was firing off spells left and right, but he went down just the same as the rest. Then I took a terrible knock on the head and woke up with an apple in my mouth on display in a goblin festhall. You know the rest.” “What happened to the rest of your party?” Alec shrugged. “No way to know. If any of my squad survived they would try to rendezvous back at Helm’s Hold. But otherwise, you’ll probably find their flesh in the bellies of those goblins you killed.” “And the stone?” Bob said. Alec shook his head. “A goblin trophy maybe. Or whoever is pulling the goblin’s strings might have it. Anyhow, I am glad that you and your friends came along when you did, otherwise that tale would have an even bleaker ending.” “Owlbear…” Erwen mumbled in his sleep. Then his eyes snapped open. “Owlbear!” He struggled to his feet and wildshaped into his bear form. He began snarling and slashing his claws at the heap of rubble that blocked the southern door, bashing the barricade aside in haste. “Now that’s a hell of a thing,” Alec observed. Theryn rushed at the opening in the castle’s northern wall. Sure enough, there was a goblin poking his head out from between the holes left by fallen stone blocks. The monk swung his new quarterstaff, an eagle’s cry in his ears, but caught nothing but air. To his left he heard the twang of a bow. Acting on instinct, Theryn whipped up a hand and caught the black-feathered arrow in mid-air, snapping it in his fist. “Whoa!” the goblin standing before Theryn said. Varien rushed from the darkness, Talon flashing in his fist. He ran the goblin through. “Whoa!” repeated the goblin as it died. “Thanks for the assist,” Theryn said, turning to Varien. “Get down!” hissed Ragnar. From the treeline came the twang of many bows, and a volley of arrows flew through the air towards the exposed monk. Varien threw up his shield, deflecting several, but two shafts plunged deeply into Theryn’s body. The monk stumbled out of the line of fire, his blood spattering on the floor. Ragnar cast silent image and an illusory wall assembled, phantom brick by phantom brick, to block the holes in the castle’s northern tower. Varien helped Theryn away from danger. He turned and flexed his fingers experimentally. “I call forth light from the darkness!” he said, placing his hands on the crumbling pillar. The paladin’s hands began to glow with a magical light. Varien pulled his hands from the pillar, expecting the stone to stay illuminated, but instead, the light began moving up his forearms, to cover his chest, trunk and legs. Soon Varien was fully engulfed in a golden glow. Varien screwed his eyes shut against the light. “Why is it so bright in here?” He said, blindly stumbling around. “Ooooooh, ahhhhh,” said the goblins from outside as the light streamed through every gap in the castle’s ceiling, like spotlights aimed skyward. “Oh, pact magic is hard!” Varien said as he ran past Ragnar, who shook his head and smiled. Erwen-Bear bashed the door down and squeezed through it, his nostrils flaring as he followed the owlbear’s scent. Moving south, he entered the wide corridor made by overlapping towers. There in the darkness, a hulking owlbear chewed on the remains of a dead hobgoblin, having been released from the southernmost tower. The massive creature had a shaggy hide that stretched over its powerful musculature, and deadly-looking claws topped each of its four tree trunk-sized limbs. Where one would expect a bear’s face, however, was a horrid caricature of an owl, its dull eyes glowing with ill temper. The owlbear’s birdlike face turned to regard Erwen-Bear, blood dripping from its beak. It roared a challenge at the wildshaped druid that sent every hair on Erwen-Bear’s body flapping in the foul-smelling breeze. Erwen turned back into Halfling form and stood firmly across the hallway from the owlbear. A grin broke across his stern face. “You’re awfully cute, Mr. Owlbear!” he squeaked. The owlbear charged at the Halfling. Erwen stood his ground and cast animal friendship on the Owlbear. The monstrous creature pulled up, a confused look twisting its features. It shook its head as if to clear a cloud of thoughts, and snarled at the druid again. “Uh oh,” Erwen said. Suddenly the door on the western side of the hallway flew open and Theryn and Varien rushed in between the Owlbear and Erwen. “I immediately regret this decision!” shouted Theryn as he swung his quarterstaff at the creature, striking it solidly across its massive shoulders. He followed up with a flurry of blows that rocked the Owlbear and knocked the heavy creature off its feet. “Have at you!” Varien shouted, swinging his sword down on the prone monstrosity. The Owlbear sprang to its feet and savaged the paladin with a clawed strike. The paladin stood his ground and cast hellish rebuke , a wave of radiant fire washing over the Owlbear, singeing its furry flesh. Erwen wildshaped back into bear form and bounded over, shoving Theryn and Varien aside with one nudge from his shoulders. He then popped back into Halfling form and cast animal friendship on the enraged creature. The Owlbear stopped in mid-snarl, lowering its clawed limb as it stared at Erwen with newfound appreciation. It lowered its head so that Erwen could gently pat it. “There you go, Mr. Owlbear,” Erwen said. “I think I shall name you Who.” Theryn and Varien’s jaws dropped. Ragnar waited to ambush any goblin with the presence of mind to test his illusory wall. Sure enough, he saw a pair of goblin hands gingerly push their way through his magical image. “Huh,” the goblin said, and stepped through. Ragnar sprang at the unaware humanoid, stabbing it in vital spots with his daggers and throwing the corpse right back through the illusion, as if Castle Cragmaw had chewed up and then spit out the goblin intruder. “Awww, c’mon!” he heard from the treeline. While Erwen whispered sweet nothings at the subdued Owlbear, Theryn and Varien investigated the tower that had held the creature captive. Predictably, the Owlbear had destroyed and befouled the contents of the tower, but a ledge on the second level caught the adventurers’ eyes. Theryn attempted a pole-vault that got him nowhere, and Varien delighted in the opportunity to show up the nimble monk by scaling the wall and climbing onto the ledge with little difficulty. “Show-off,” Theryn muttered. Varien opened the chest and whistled at its contents. He dragged it to the edge of the ledge and dropped it into the monk’s outstretched arms. “All right, Who,” Erwen said. “We’re going for a ride.” He climbed up onto the Owlbear’s back and dug in his heels. Grudgingly, the charmed Owlbear started to move. Ragnar listened as a squad of goblins slowly made their way towards the illusion. “It’s not real,” one of the goblins whispered. “You touch it first,” another said. “No, you go through first!” said yet another. Ragnar inhaled deeply and let fly with his breath weapon, sending a web of lightning through the illusory wall and lighting up the group of goblins in an instant. Four of them turned into living torches for an instant before their lives were snuffed out, while the fifth stood there, rooted by current to the ground, scorched but alive. Ragnar walked through the illusory wall, lightning playing harmlessly over his body, as the goblin’s wide eyes took in the sight. “Will you run, or kneel?” Ragnar said, pointing his dagger at the last goblin standing. “Um, I think I’m going to run!” the goblin said. The nimble humanoid scampered away, still trailing smoke. Ragnar stretched out a hand and pointed at the fleeing goblin. His eldritch blast struck the goblin down in mid-stride, his body withering away to fleeting nothingness. In the forest, Yeemik watched the scene unfold in terror. He turned and bolted into the darkness. Ragnar turned as a roaring sound emanated from the castle. Erwen, astride a hulking Owlbear, bounded out into the clearing. “Okay,” Ragnar said. “That’s quite the mount you have there. Difficult to tame, I’d imagine.” Erwen smiled. “As long as I keep re-upping the charm spell, I should have lots of time to bring Who around.” “Bring who around?” Ragnar asked. “Exactly,” Erwen said. “Well,” Ragnar said. “I think I can help with that.” With a flourish, the rogue produced a handful of salted pork, cooked to perfection, which he fed to the Owlbear. Who lapped up the meat, and then gave Ragnar a tentative lap with his oversized tongue. “Okay, that’s enough of that,” Ragnar said cheerfully, ruffling Who’s fur.