Erwen spent the better part of a day
applying poultices and tinctures to Who, his ailing owlbear mount, who was
making an awful mess of the barn at the Alderleaf Farm, leaking from
both ends with some sort of sickness contracted from the giant spiders in Wave Echo Cave.
When he wasn’t caring for Who, he was
setting Carp on his knee, teaching him the ways and wisdom of woodland
creatures, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was setting Qelline on other parts
of his anatomy.
For his part, Carp had collected a fair
amount of moulted feathers from Who’s hide and had fashioned a jaunty headdress,
which he wore while cavorting around the farm, much to Qelline’s amusement.
Despite how natural the domestic
arrangement seemed to feel to him, the longer Erwen stayed in Phandalin, the
more the walls seemed to be closing in. His growing agoraphobia make him
increasingly uncomfortable, and he considered teaching Carp to take care of Who
in his absence and then bolting into the blue, but every time he played the
scenario in his mind, it ended with Carp inside the owlbear’s stomach and
Qelline seeking revenge.
He resolved to head east at the first
opportunity, and as soon as Who rallied, he did so without saying goodbye to
Qelline or Carp.
He mounted the owlbear and struck out
towards Wyvern Tor.
He did not notice Carp, sitting in a tree
branch, worrying feathers from his headdress as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“New Dad’s leaving us again, Carp,” the boy whispered to himself.
As he headed into the foothills outside of
town, Erwen considered asking some of the local flora for directions. He cast speak with plants and engaged the
nearest clump of vegetation in conversation.
“You there, bush,” Erwen said. “Have you
seen a group of Men, and, ah, one Young Lady marching this way in the last
little while?”
The bush waved its woody stems. “You
creatures all look the same to me. And I’m a shrub by the way.”
“Sorry, Mr. Shrub.”
“Don’t presume my gender,” the shrub
snapped. “Speaking of which, since I can’t figure out how you creatures
pollinate one another without the help of bees and breeze, I’m not about to
attempt to differentiate between male and female.”
“Okay,” Erwen said. He began to regret
casting a spell on this plant. “But did anybody come this way recently?”
“Yes, some Tramplers did stomp by here,
quite rudely I might add, crushing grass and uprooting more than a few of my
saplings. Some were astride Eating Fertilizers who did a fair amount of both as
they passed through. Circle of Life, I suppose.”
“Yes, and the direction?”
“Like the sunflower, they faced the Morning
Light, which if you ask me never tastes quite as good as the Midday Sun, and
their shadows were long. They went that way.” With a rustling sound, the shrub
bent its branches in a northeasterly direction.
“Thank you for the information, er, do you
have a name?” Erwen said.
“Chlorophyllis!” the shrub said.
“Right, thanks Chlorophyllis.” Erwen paused
awkwardly, and then patted the shrub’s leaves.
“Ow! What are you doing! I didn’t consent
to this!” Chlorophyllis shuddered and leaned away from the Halfling’s
ministrations.
“All right, all right, I'm going!” Erwen
had half a mind to ask Who to eat the offended shrub.
Still under Erwen’s spell, the shrub
watched the two creatures gallop away over the hill. “That was weird,” it said
to itself.
In the cave beneath Wyvern Tor, the party
rested. Xylon took first watch, followed by Radegast.
It wasn’t the most comfortable of rests,
for a couple of reasons: first, orcs are not generally known for their clean
living habits and had made a general mess of the place, and second, there was
now a stack of half-charred humanoids in the rear of the cavern.
The bard took some time to sort through the
orcs’ weapons, looking for a shortbow, but all she came up with was a pile of
javelins, axes, and a morningstar.
As he rested, Bob sat by the nearest
campfire and leafed through a small booklet had had found inside his healer’s
kit. It contained a series of pictograms illustrating how the items in the
healing kit could best be used to help the injured. Bob nodded sagely as the
booklet outlined some of the most common injuries received by adventurers.
“Hey everyone, did you know these healer’s
kits came with an instruction manual?” Bob said to his friends as they lounged
around the campfire. “Turns out I know how to use these things better now!”
Her inventory work finished, Radegast
picked up her shield. She’d picked it up in Silverymoon after reading several
epic poems that sang the praises of such armour, but she felt as though it was
cramping her style. Reality was proving to be a harsh teacher.
“Here, Bob, maybe you could make better use
of this than I could,” she gave the shield to the sorcerer/cleric. “Could I
take a look at that instruction manual?”
Bob held the sheaf of papers out and then
dropped them in the campfire. “Whoops!” he made a grab for them and rescued
most of the booklet. “Thanks for the shield,” he said, giving the Half-Elf the
smoking papers.
“All right, if we’re going, let’s go,”
Varien said. “I want to make Old Owl Well before it gets dark.”
The party gathered their gear and made
their way out of the cave with Varien in the lead.
Varien stepped out of the cave mouth.
There was a sound of rushing wind and the
beating of leathery wings.
A shadow blotted out the sun at the cave
mouth for a split-second.
Radegast looked up and Varien was gone.
Varien found himself caught in the talons
of a reptilian creature that was even now ascending into the sky. He looked
down to see the crag of Wyvern Tor rapidly shrinking beneath him and his
stomach did flip-flops. Squirming, he looked up to see the leathery underbelly
of a Wyvern, a draconic creature with a long neck and tail, and bat-like wings
that were beating purposefully. The creature was hissing as it climbed.
Varien wriggled and pulled some rope free
from his belt, intent on lassoing the creature and getting a better grip. He
fumbled the attempt and found himself tangled in the rope.
“I literally warned everyone about this
very thing!” he shouted down to the tiny figures of his comrades as they
spilled out the cave after him.
“What the hell is that?” Radegast said,
gazing skyward. “Is it a bird? Is it something from another Plane?”
“IT’S A WYVERN!” Varien’s shout faintly
reached them. “A WYVERN!”
“Well, it’s coming back to earth in a
minute, whatever it is,” Alec said as he cast magic missile.
Three bolts of force struck the wyvern as
it flew through the air.
It flexed its claws, and Varien felt its
grip tighten as his armor creaked in protest.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Varien shouted at
the creature.
Then he heard a whipping sound and a
cartilaginous barb at the end of the wyvern’s articulated tail stabbed him deep
in the chest.
Varien gasped as he felt a feverish flash
run through his body like chilled quicksilver. He began to hyperventilate.
Radegast pulled out her longbow, cursing
its bulk, and shouted “ Ofaal tum thet! ” in Draconic. She fired an arrow into
the sky and followed it up with bardic
inspiration for the trapped paladin.
The wyvern was now at least 70 feet in the
air.
Not to be outdone, Bob pointed his hands at
the creature and shouted “ Hi hinzaal sahvol fah dovah! ” as he ran after the
wyvern, casting two guiding bolts at
the wyvern.
Theryn unlimbered his own longbow and shot
an arrow as well.
Xylon launched a firebolt.
Alec cast magic missile again.
The wyvern roared a deep-throated growl
that reminded Varien of a bull alligator as it was buffeted by the barrage of
magical and mundane missiles sent after it. It wheeled through the air
unsteadily, losing strength, and began descending.
“And it was on this day,” Varien shouted, “That
Varien Aether decided he would learn to fly!”
Varien pulled his sword free and stabbed at
the underbelly of the wyvern, casting thunderous
smite as he did so.
On the ground, the party watched in
amazement as there was a thunderous explosion that sent the wyvern pinwheeling
one way, and Varien plummeting in the other. The lizardlike creature fairly
came apart under the force of the paladin’s divine smite, trailing bits of
leathery wing as it tumbled towards the earth.
Varien fell. And fell. He watched the earth
rise up to meet him.
“Three point landing!” he shouted, trying
to gain control of his flailing limbs.
There was the jolt of impact.
“Kren
nel!” Bob shouted as he stood over Varien’s crumpled
form. The paladin had made quite an impact.
“Three…point…landing,” Varien wheezed.
Bob used his healer’s kit to heal Varien.
Some yards away, the bulk of the Wyvern
landed in a heap.
“Say, is this creature edible I wonder?”
Radegast said. “Who’s up for braised Wyvern ribs?”
Then, a pair of familiar figures crested
the ridge. It was Erwen astride Who.
“Hey, welcome back!” Bob said to Erwen.
Who immediately ambled over to the dead
wyvern and began eating.
“Good to be here,” Erwen said. “What did I
miss?”
The party traveled in the direction of Old
Owl Well, picking their way over hill and through narrow valleys towards the
old landmark near the Triboar Trail.
Erwen noticed a change in Who’s temperament
the closer they got to their destination. The owlbear seemed more docile, even
cowed. He wasn’t fighting Erwen’s commands at all.
“That’s weird,” the Halfling through to
himself.
The adventurers traveled about fifteen
miles due north and crested a low ridge. They spotted the crumbling ruins of an
old ziggurat standing amid the rugged hills. The place was so ancient that the
successive layers of the stepped pyramids had crumbled into mounds of rubble,
with only the occasional stretch of solid sloped wall and carved stone steps
indicating that this was not in fact a natural rock formation.
The stepped pyramid itself was quite tall –
Radegast estimated its topmost layer to be about sixty feet from the ground –
and would have made an excellent fortified outpost from which to view the
surrounding environs, including keeping watch on the faded Triboar Trail that
ribboned to the northwest.
Time had not been kind to the ruin, but the
party could see signs of recent disturbances from their vantage point. On the
first level up from the ground, they saw a colourful tent set up on the
northwest face of the pyramid, canvas flapping in the breeze.
There was also a substantial architectural
dig – a rectangular excavation about 15 feet by 20 feet wide. Piles of sand and
rubble were heaped nearby.
There was no one in sight, and the place
was eerily quiet. All of the adventurers, however, could smell the lingering
odor of rot and death that seemed to settle over the tower.
“Let’s move,” Varien said. “But quietly.”
“I can help with that,” Erwen said. He cast
pass without trace.
The party silently moved towards the
pyramid, leaving no footprint or disturbed ground in their wake. They mounted
the first set of wide stone steps cut into the sloped side of the pyramid and
crept towards the tent.
As they neared the heaps of sand and
rubble, they heard from all around and nowhere in particular the sound of a
ringing gong.
Theryn turned to Varien. “A gong, eh? Looks
like the show is about to start.”
The party members tensed.
There was movement within the piles of sand
on either side of them. Humanoid figures began sitting up and standing, runnels
of sand pouring from their bodies as they did so.
They were zombies. The creatures began to
shamble out of the rubble, arms outstretched. A few held simple pickaxes and shovels,
which they swung menacingly.
Varien gripped his sword and grit his
teeth. He smote the nearest zombie with a divine strike.
Theryn stepped up and hit it with his
quarterstaff, separating its neck from its shoulders.
Radegast pulled out her rapier and stabbed
a zombie. As she moved behind Varien, a shovel-weilding zombie struck her,
knocking her back.
Who half-heartedly moved up and attacked a
zombie, shredding it with its beak and claws.
Bob cast fire bolt , knocking one zombie back and setting it on fire.
Xylon also cast fire bolt.
The zombies swarmed around Who, striking
the owlbear repeatedly.
A zombie tried to hit Theryn but the monk
ducked easily.
As the melee commenced, the tent flap flew
open and a human male emerged, cinching a red robe around his waist. He was a
stout figure with a shaved scalp, his beard styled in tiered ringlets. His skin
was sallow and there was an intricate black tattoo on his forehead. Amulets clanked over his bare chest and his wrists were adorned with bracelets, from which trailed long strips of parchment like ribbons. His desert boots had extravagantly curved toes.
“What is the meaning of this?” He said,
hands on hips.
Bob’s eyes widened as he recognized the
man’s garb and tattoos. This was a Red Wizard of Thay, a man hailing from a
magocratic kingdom to the east. Bob knew that the Red Wizards were not to be
trifled with. As for the tattoos covering the wizard’s scalp, Bob knew they
represented the man’s devotion to the Necromantic school of wizardry.
At the sound of the man’s voice, the
zombies all froze in place.
“Excuse me one second,” Alec said, cleaving
an arm off the nearest Zombie.
The Red Wizard sighed. “Please stop harming
my servitors. They are costly to replace.”
“Replace?” Varien said, his blood boiling.
“What does he mean by that?”
The Red Wizard rolled his eyes. “Why have
you attacked my servants?”
Bob scowled. “A better question is, what
are you doing here, O Necromancer of Thay?”
Varien’s eyes widened. “Did he
say…necromancer…?” the paladin hissed.
The Red Wizard frowned. “My business here
is none of yours.” His hand conjured an official-looking missive, which he
waved at the adventurers. “I am working here under the auspices of the Lord
Protector of Triboar and would very much like to be left alone to complete my
work in peace.” Several party members had heard of Triboar, a town some miles to the east at the other end of a trail that bore its name.
“Your work?” Varien snarled. “I’ve seen
your handiwork, Necromancer. You’re done here!”
“Leave now, or you will not like what
happens next!” The Red Wizard said.
The party stepped forward menacingly.
The Red Wizard’s eyes widened. He waved an
arm in front of him, reading the words from the long scrap of parchment affixed
to a bracelet on his wrist, which burned away as he spoke the unfamiliar arcane
language. Then he stepped back into the recesses of the tent, letting the flap
close behind him.
Varien cast eldritch blast after the wizard.
Theryn dashed after the paladin and
overtook him, running straight into the confines of the tent. The tent itself
contained a comfortable traveling suite, including a cot, a chair, a writing
desk, supplies, and an ornate chest. A rug woven with eastern symbols was
rolled out on the floor of the tent.
The monk was surprised to see not one but
two occupants inside.
The Red Wizard was standing to his right in
a rage, and to Theryn’s left was a woman, standing ready to fight. She wore a
red cape, arm sleeves and boots, and precious little else, her body sheened
with sweat. Her scalp was shaven and adorned with tattoos similar to her
companion.
Theryn noticed that the cot was big enough
for two people to share.
“Welcome to the Sweet Hereafter,” Theryn
said and launched into a complicated flurry of blows from his quarterstaff and
booted feet, striking the first Red Wizard with a stunning strike and sending him reeling. He turned his attention to
the woman and struck her, though she stood her ground.
Over his shoulder, Theryn shouted,
“VARIEN!”
Who continued to bite and claw at the
nearest zombie.
The party heard more moans coming from
parts further north and east, and Bob saw a group of zombies begin lumbering up
a set of stone steps near the tent.
Radegast picked a point just behind the
tent and cast shatter .
The back half of the tent was blown in by a
wave of thunderous energy, catching the woman by surprise. She screamed as
every loose object around her suddenly took flight in a maelstrom of broken
ceramics, shredded paper, and splintered rattan. The male Red Wizard took some
of the blast as well.
Theryn stood before her impassively, trying
not to let his surprise at the sudden wave of thunder show on his face.
Bob cast a twinned fire bolt at two zombies, and Xylon fired off one of his own.
Erwen cast erupting earth , trying to catch the approaching zombies as well as
mangle the wizards’ tent further.
A veritable fountain of churning earth and
stone erupted in a 20-foot cube, catching the approaching zombies and causing
the ground beneath the tent to become dangerously unstable.
As Theryn watched in astonishment, the
ground before him opened up, sending pillars of raw rock shooting up through
the tent’s carpeted floor, pulverizing the female Wizard, who barely had time
to scream before she was pulled down into the earth beneath her, along with
half of the tent’s contents. In a spray of sand, she was gone, her scream
abruptly cut of by tons of earth.
“Now that was a hell of a thing,” he
breathed, looking down and realizing that the destruction ended about three
inches from his feet.
Radegast looked up as a shadow fell over
her. She saw a trio of zombies spill over the side of the pyramid level above
her and slide down the slope towards her. Varien’s shield offered her some
protection as the undead rained down around her, but she was now surrounded.
Varien rushed forward, stepped inside the
tent and cast vow of enmity on the
stumbling Red Wizard. He swung Talon and slashed the necromancer savagely.
Alec swung his sword and attacked the
zombies threatening Radegast. His first swing missed, but he caught the
creature on the backswing.
Theryn stepped towards the Red Wizard.
“Well, Mister Wizard, the bad news is that your woman is gone, but the good
news is you won’t live long enough to pay any alimony.”
He struck at the wizard with his staff and
tried another stunning strike . The
Wizard shook his head clear of the cobwebs and scowled darkly at Theryn.
Theryn kicked the wizard upside the head,
killing him. Then he spun on his heel and rushed outside of the tent to see if
he could be of some use.
Varien stood over the corpse of the Red
Wizard. “Disgusting,” he said.
Radegast stabbed a zombie with her rapier.
Bob moves and cast a twinned firebolt at the pair of zombies
attacking Radegast.
Xylon moved up to the zombies who were
still knee-deep in debris after Erwen’s spell slowed their advance. He cast burning hands , setting them alight.
Alec finished off the last zombie attacking
Radegast.
Varien walked out of the tent and hit two
zombies with an eldritch blast . They
were bowled over but got back to their feet. Theryn struck them with his bo
staff followed by an unarmed strike. They still wouldn’t go down.
Who moved up to bite at the nearest zombie.
Radegast sighed, ran up, jumped and cast thunderwave as she landed on the
shoulders of one of the zombies.
“Wait!” the party shouted.
The wave of thunderous energy destroyed the
zombies but caught both Alec and Who in its area of effect.
One zombie remained. Bob cast firebolt but at the last second realized
he’d misjudged the distance. The firebolt
caught Radegast square in the chest, sending her flailing from the
shoulders of the zombie beneath her and clattering down the remains of the
stone steps behind them. With every bump, she cursed in a different language
before coming to rest at the foot of the pyramid. From her position on the
ground, the injured bard could see what looked like bats flying around the apex
of the ziggurat.
Bob balanced his remorse at hitting a
teammate with his lack of remorse for it being Radegast.
Xylon’s magic
missile put paid to the last zombie at Old Owl Well.