All throughout the ziggurat, the worms
screamed. The high-pitched frenzy of their confused rage reverberated around
corridors and tunnels, carrying across the cavern to return as eldritch echoes.
Then, as one, the screams were cut off.
The party members watched as the monstrous
tangle of worms fell into to its component parts, tentacles becoming tenebrous
shapes that drifted into oblivion beneath the surface of the stagnant waters
like melting ice. The worms had ceased moving as one, each one seeking a few
more precious seconds of life before seizing up into strictures and dying a
twitching death.
Radegast stooped to grab a section of
tentacle, only to have it disintegrate into dozens of dying worms, leaving her hands
covered in a sickening sludge.
“Well then, nothing to do but search this
ruin and then head to the surface,” Varien said smartly. He took off at a
running start and jumped across the lake to land on a rocky outcropping, his boots of striding and springing living
up to their name.
“Show off,” Xylon muttered.
“Oh yeah?” Bob said. “Watch this!” He
disappeared in a misty step and
reappeared on a ledge to the south of where the corridor came to an abrupt end,
keeping close to the rock wall.
Radegast looked at her slime-slicked hands
and then down at the carpet of worms atop the stagnant waters. Bracing herself,
she reached down and splayed her fingers out, wiggling them as she pressed
through the layer of worms to disturb the waters below them.
The worms did not react to her touch.
“Okay then!” Radegast said and dove into
the water, swimming for the nearest island.
Erwen followed, turning his back to the
lake and then falling backwards with a splash. He resurfaced, kicking so
furiously it looked like he was walking on the wormy carpet as he made for a
nearby rock outcropping. He pulled himself up and realized that a worm had
attached itself to his backside during his swim.
“Worms…” Alec muttered, keeping the
slime-dripping head of his light hammer as far away from his body as possible.
“Why did it have to be worms?”
He heard a noise behind him.
A swarm of agitated worms had escaped from
the chamber that Radegast had sealed them in and was slowly slithering towards
him. A second cluster of worms followed closely behind.
“Ugh!” Alec shouted, and cast firebolt. The magical flames burned much
of the first swarm down, though weakened worms wriggled their way past their
fried comrades to continue their slow march towards him.
Bob crossed the southern section of the
ledge, taking note of the corridor that led south while sticking to his
original goal of exploring the westernmost section of the cavern. Here the
ledge narrowed, and as he edged closer to the western side, a rock gave way
beneath his feet and he tumbled into the waters with a splash.
Keeping his eyes and mouth closed against
the layer of worms, Bob pushed himself back up and misty stepped back onto the ledge, dripping wet. He shook his head
and checked for worms.
Varien bounded across the cavernous lake
and landed on solid ground. He looked around.
This room seemed out of place, given the
cold and barren décor of the other chambers in the complex. The floor was
covered with a thick green carpet, and a long, padded divan sat in the room’s
centre, with smaller chairs arrayed around it. The walls were carved with
artful scenes of a war against owlbears.
There were four doorways off this room –
one to the north and one to the south, and two in the west wall.
“All right,” Varien said to himself,
heading to the northernmost door and forcing it open.
The stench nearly made him gag. The room
was choked full of mouldering debris, damaged by water that seemed to be
seeping in from the flagstone floor and the walls. Whatever furniture and
artwork that had once adorned this room had been crushed to splinters by an
unknown force, and there were jumbled layers of rotting fabric twisted into
knotted shapes that sprouted all manner of foul fungus.
Slumped in one corner of the room was a
humanoid corpse. Sluggish worms were dripping from its empty eye sockets and
from its gaping mouth, some falling away dead as Varien looked on. The paladin
kept one hand on his sword, waiting for the corpse to rear up and attack like
so many others before it, but this time, the dead stayed dead.
He began rummaging around in the ruins.
After a few minutes of searching, he hit
pay dirt, discovering a small sack that contained a handful of gems, their
finely cut faces not tarnished at all by the age and decay that surrounded
them.
“Nice,” he said, pocketing the gemstones.
As he turned to leave, his boot kicked a bottle that spun noisily on the
ground. The paladin picked it up – it was a glass potion bottle of some kind,
stoppered, holding a pale liquid.
Erwen plucked the wriggling worm from his
behind, looked at it scornfully, and tossed it back into the water. Then he
looked at the remaining distance between him and dry land, and decided to cast entangle and build a bridge of thorns
that would lead him to safety.
“You there, Defiler!” Alec shouted to get
Xylon’s attention. “Quickly, there are worms flanking us!”
Xylon’s eyes were closed and his fingertips
were at his brow as if he was warding off a headache. “I sense…looting taking
place, and I’m not a part of it!” He frowned.
“Worms first, loot second!” Alec shouted.
Xylon sent a half-hearted fire bolt at the second tangle of worms,
scorching it to cinders.
Bob reached the western area and opened the
door to the south, finding it full of shattered debris and discovering a corpse
that was actively divesting itself of the worms that had once infested it.
Ignoring the worms, Bob looked around the
room, which might have at one time been a smartly appointed bedchamber, judging
by the placement of the debris.
His eyes began picking out bits of treasure
hidden amid the wreckage. Rifling through the chambers, Bob pulled out two
ivory statues of Netherese origin, a silver necklace with a gemstone pendant, a
large gold bracelet, and a wooden box full of carved turquoise figurines
depicting lizard-like half-men holding bladed weapons and monstrous creatures
with more mouths than limbs.
Varien had moved to the northwest room.
Aside from a glittering coin on the floor, which he studiously ignored, the
room was devoid of treasure. He shrugged dismissively and left the chamber.
As Bob dug deeper into the mess, he was
rewarded. A metal flask covered in red paint that gave the impression of scales
sloshed when Bob picked it up. He pocketed the potion and kept digging.
He pulled out a leather satchel in pristine
condition. The flap on the pouch was decorated to look like the face of a
cheerful fat man whose smile, at first benign, betrayed the hint of a sly
secret.
“Huh,” Bob said, turning the bag over to
give it a closer inspection. He liked the look of it. He looped his head and
arm through the shoulder strap – the bag fit well and hardly weighed anything.
Opening another pouch, he began placing his newly acquired goods inside.
Radegast pulled herself out of the water,
making sure to check that no worms were hiding in her hair as she tried to dry
herself off. Most of the worm-guts had washed off during her swim and she
didn’t relish the idea of jumping back in the foul-smelling waters.
Before here was an area of stone floor that
had resisted collapsing after whatever cataclysm had hollowed out the cavern.
She saw that it narrowed into a corridor that headed south. Rolling up her
sleeves, she went down the hallway.
She encountered a set of double stone
doors. As she approached, she took note of the words in Netherese script that
adorned the transom over the door.
Terraseer’s
Chambers
“Terraseer?” Radegast repeated. She
recalled several references to the Terraseer in the book she had borrowed from
the Library. She recalled from her studies that the Terraseer was a famous
advisor to the Netherese Empire, a source of arcane knowledge that led to many
advances.
As she stepped forward, the doors slid
open, disappearing into hidden compartments in the walls of the corridor.
Radegast stepped over the threshold and her
eyes widened.
This chamber, opulent by nearly any
standard, seemed somehow alien despite its finery. The whole room seemed to
glow, but Radegast could see no source of illumination. In contrast to the
simple stone of the surrounding chambers, this room was faced in quartz panels
inlaid with geometrical patterns.
Radegast wedged a spare sword into the
doorjamb, making sure she didn't lock herself in by mistake. She looked around.
In the centre of the room was a raised ring
of silver. Inside it was a pool full of still water.
To the left of the pool was a small, fluted
pedestal with an oddly shaped receptacle at the top. Investigating, Radegast
got the impression of ribbed scales, like a cobra’s hood, on the inside of the
depression in the top of the pedestal, but she couldn’t begin to imagine what
type of object would fit into the strange socket.
Beyond the pool, furniture was placed at
odd and uncomfortable angles, including a grand throne-like chair that did not
look like it was made for a humanoid to sit in. There was a deep groove in the
seat of the chair that looked like its purpose was to accommodate a tail.
On either side of the room were two silver
sarcophagi. Portals of beveled glass were fitted into the lids, and the insides
were full of writhing green worms.
There were tapestries adorning the walls of
the room, done in a sort of stylized hyperreal style that put the real world to
shame. The imagery was sometimes understandable, depicting scenes of martial
glory, including armies of slithering, reptilian creatures that resemble
yuan-ti, nagas, and other lizardfolk battling a horde of tubular, plant-like
creatures with round tooth-rimmed mouths and barbed limbs that looked like
lashing vines. In other places the art was simply abstract patterns drawn by an
apparently alien mind.
Another tapestry showed a handsome human
male of regal bearing standing inside what looked like a deep cavern. A glowing
nimbus around his head contained arcane equations and esoteric symbols, and
Radegast’s eyes were drawn to what looked like an architectural rendering of
the very ziggurat she was exploring.
“Ah, so this place was your idea, eh
Arthindol?” Radegast said.
She noticed that the Terraseer was holding out
his hand, above which hovered three obsidian stones.
Radegast fished around in her rucksack and
brought out one of the worm jars. “Help me out here,” she said to the worm.
“I’m a bit out of my depth here.”
The worm did not reply.
Radegast studied the tapestry again. Upon
closer inspection, it was clear that the Terraseer, though human, was casting a
decidedly nonhuman shadow in the light cast from the stones above his upraised
hand. The shadow, receding at an impossible angle, was decidedly reptilian.
Radegast checked out another tapestry and
gasped.
Depicted in the tapestry was a trio of
hooded Netherese arcanists huddled around a crystal ball. The crystal ball
showed scenes of woodland elves frolicking in a glade, but what drew Radegast’s
ire was the way the elves had been embroidered, in an exaggerated caricature
that offended her to her core.
“Racists,” she muttered.
Radegast moved to the southernmost part of
the room.
“Hello,” she said. “What’s this?”
There were three squat pillars standing in
a row near the back wall. Atop each pillar sat an object.
On the left was a robe, neatly folded.
In the middle was a crystal ball.
On the right was a small pile of
obsidian-coloured stones, similar to the ones depicted in the tapestry.
There was a faint thrumming sound, as though
an energy field were protecting the objects from decay. Indeed there was not a
speck of dust anywhere in the chamber.
Radegast stepped forward. Her suspicions
were confirmed – there was definitely magic at work in this area of the
chamber.
An inscription had been carved into the
floor before the three pedestals.
A CHOICE YOU MUST MAKE ONLY ONE YOU CAN TAKE
“Ah, I see.” Radegast
gingerly reached out a hand towards the pedestal with the three stones on it.
She felt a ripple of arcane energy as her hand passed through an invisible
field, but no pain.
“Neat!” She scooped up
the three rocks and withdrew her hand.
The thrumming sound
increased in intensity.
Radegast pocketed the
rocks. “Now, if I were the door to the Chamber of Purification, where would I
be hiding?”
She looked around the
room. Finding nothing more of interest, she pulled the sword from the doorjamb
and left the room behind, intent on finding the Chamber of Purification.
Bob entered the room that Varien had
dismissed and saw the coin on the floor. He picked it up and pocketed it, but
could find nothing more of interest in the chamber.
Varien was already getting a running start
to jump across the pool of water towards a section of corridor leading north.
Elsewhere in the cavern, swarms of worms
were now nothing more than charred stains on the flagstone floor. Alec and
Xylon turned their attention to exploring.
Alec jumped from one ledge to another,
heading south.
“Hey, no pushing!” Alec warned Xylon as the
wizard brushed by him along the ledge.
Xylon made his way to the antechamber with
the four doors leading off from it. He entered the first one he could see and
searched the room.
After a few minutes of pulling apart piles
of moldy clothing and sodden scrolls, his efforts were rewarded. He found a
silver necklace, a brass mug with a jade inlay (this he poured out before
putting it in his pack), a gold bracelet, and a gold ring set with bloodstones.
“Very flash,” he said, admiring the ring.
He looked at the corpse of the zombie sprawled in the corner of the room.
“Don’t you think?”
The zombie did not reply.
Varien jumped across the water and landed
square in the middle of a swarm of green worms.
“Whoops!” he shouted, dancing away from the
writhing morass. He knew if he kept on his toes he would be able to outrun the
slow-moving worms, and decided to press on rather than fight the pathetic
creatures.
He moved down the unexplored corridor to
the west. The corridor ended in a set of stone doors.
The doors to this chamber were solid stone,
and closed. Over the doorway were Netherese runes that Varien could not make
sense of. He forced the doors open.
This chamber was lined with the trappings
of religious ceremony, but in place of an altar stood a beautiful fountain
carved from black marble. In the ceiling of the chamber was another fountain,
this one inverted. Suspended between the two black marble constructions was a
pillar of clear, swirling water. Bubbles trickled up from below through the
waterspout.
A muffled splashing sound from above drew
Varien’s attention to the ceiling as he saw a bucket drift down from the top of
the inverted fountain on the end of a rope, which was suddenly yanked taut and
pulled out of view in a rush of bubbles.
Varien realized that the chamber where he
was standing likely lined up with the well on the northwest side of the
watchtower. This was the fabled well that gave Old Owl Well its name.
Varien looked down. Surrounding the water
column on the floor of the chamber was a shallow channel, about six inches
wide, cut into the stone blocks, filled with water. Carved into the floor was
also a series of Netherese runes that circle the fountain in two circles.
Four braziers were located in the corners
of the room.
Radegast sighed, made sure all her satchels
and packs were cinched up tight, and jumped back into the water, swimming for
the northern section of the cavern.
She climbed out of the water, wrung herself
out and deftly avoided the large swarm of worms lurching in her direction. She
padded wetly down the western corridor and found Varien standing in the
threshold of a chamber.
Over the doorway were Netherese runes that
read “Chamber
of Purification.”
“Whoop!” Radegast said. “Found it!”
Varien glared at her.
After marvelling at the standing column of
water, Radegast’s attention was drawn to the concentric rings of runes that surrounded
the magical well.
“Should I cross this channel?” Varien asked.
“You keep the hell out of this room,”
Radegast said. “Let me read these runes first.”
Carefully, she entered the chamber, and
keeping herself on the outside of the ring of water, walked a wide circle
around the well, reading the first set of runes on the floor. They read:
I TRAP MANY THINGS. LOOK CAREFULLY LEST YOU
FIND YOURSELF CAUGHT.
“Ah, so it's a trap!” Radegast said. “This
book of mine said that the Chamber of Purification was well-defended.” She
turned to Varien. “I’m going to need you to drag me out of here if I get into
trouble.”
Varien nodded.
“Do not step into the circle,” she warned.
There was a second set of runes encircling
the fountain, but Radegast was going to have to get closer to read them all.
From where she was standing, she could make out the word “hope” in Netherese.
“I’ll try for that one,” she said, and
jumped for it, landing with both feet on the rune.
Instantly she realized her mistake.
A sudden thirst welled up within her,
begging to be quenched. Her throat was parched as a desert riverbed. She needed
to drink, and her face was only inches from the slowly swirling pillar of cool,
clear water.
She reached in, cupping water in her hands,
and drank greedily.
Hmmm,
she thought. Water
usually isn’t this…chewy?
She realized she was drinking a mouthful of
worms.
Gagging, she spat out worms, worm innards,
gobbets of half-chewed worms, and a little bit of water.
The worst of it was that she wanted nothing
more than to take another big gulp from the water fountain.
Varien did a double-take as he saw Radegast
retch and gag, spitting out worms that seemed to have materialized from inside
her.
“What’s wrong with the drinking water?” He
called.
Radegast, doubled over, heaved again and
spat. “It ain’t water!”
Turning to view the Well, Radegast willed
herself to resist the urge to jump in and drink forever. In an instant it was
as if an illusion spell had broken.
The cool, clear waters turned a shade of green, and she realized the lower
third of the waterspout were choked full of writhing worms that spilled out
over the edges of the marble fountain to dribble downwards onto the floor of
the Chamber of Purification.
She knew what she had to do.
Alec, Erwen and Xylon ventured south into
the Terraseer’s Chamber. They goggled at the strange tapestries, weird
furniture, and inscrutable silver-shod pool.
Soon they discovered the trio of pedestals
at the far end of the chamber.
“What’s this about?” Xylon said,
investigating the objects that remained on two of the three pedestals. He was
certain that there was arcane energy at work in the room and was wary of
running afoul of ancient Netherese magic.
The instant he laid eyes on the crystal
ball, part of his face began to throb not altogether unpleasantly. He recalled
how Agatha the Banshee had slapped him when he had questioned her about what
powerful item the Red Wizard had been searching for at Old Owl Well. He could
hear her bone-chilling voice whispering in his ear.
You
will know it when you see it.
He saw it.
He knew it.
Alec too took a keen interest in the
crystal ball, which bore a striking resemblance to the “seeing stone” that
Haladar and his friends kept talking about when they thought he wasn’t within
earshot before the goblin ambush had scattered the expedition he’d been hired
to guard in the wilds of Neverwinter Wood.
They both reached for the crystal ball on
the pedestal.
There was a sudden humming sound.
“Uh oh,” they said in unison.
A blast of radiant energy arced out from
the pedestals in an instant as the wizard and fighter ducked for cover.
Lightning played out over their twitching bodies in an instant before vanishing
with a flash.
The humming sound receded into the
background.
Xylon picked himself up, heedless of the
smoke curling from his robes. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” Alec said, rolling
around on the floor in pain.
Erwen peeked out from behind the throne,
eyes wide.
“Varien!” Radegast shouted. “Grab one of
those mummies from the Chamber of Hosts!”
“What, the ones that were standing up?”
“Yes!” Radegast nodded, indicating the
worm-ridden well. “I know how to fix this!”
Varien ran as fast as his boots of striding and springing could
carry him. He didn’t even slow down as he plowed through the swarm of worms
lurking in the ascension chamber on his way to the room full of the standing
dead.
Keeping away from the worms that spilled
out onto the floor, Radegast took a moment to walk around the inner ring of
runes that encircled the fountain. They read:
HOPES
GO UP, COPPERS COME DOWN. BOTH MEET TO MAKE A SPLASH.
“Wait,” Radegast said to herself. “This is
a wishing well now?”
She fished around in sodden pockets for a
coin. Looking at it, she glanced back at the fountain.
“This is a terrible idea.”
She tossed the coin into the column of
water and cringed, expecting the worst.
Nothing happened.
“Whew,” she said.
“There must be some way to activate or
negate the magic in this room,” Xylon paced around. He tried sitting in the
throne, shifting uncomfortably as his buttocks threatened to get wedged into
the channel that ran through the chair’s seat.
Nothing happened.
“If I know Netherese magic, I know that it
must be powered by a mythallar, a primitive forerunner to the Elven mythals
that protect our greatest cities,” Xylon said.
“Okay,” Alec offered.
“It’s like a battery that stores magic,”
Xylon said. “There must be one around here somewhere.” He began feeling around
on the walls for secret doors. “Come on, come on!” He said angrily, pounding
his fist on one of the quartz panels.
The panel gave way and slid out of sight.
“Hello!” Xylon said, peering into the
darkened chamber.
He was greeted by the cycloptic gaze of a
guardian construct.
“Uh oh,” Xylon screeched.
The guardian’s eye began to glow amber, and
then deepened to a raging red. The construct lifted itself up on its crab-like
legs and stomped into the Terraseer’s Chamber.
“We were just leaving,” Xylon said, backing
away.
There was a hum as the guardian began
powering up its weapons.
Xylon looked about in the Chamber of Hosts until he found the smallest and
lightest of the erect corpses. Grabbing it, he spun about on his heel and
dashed for the Chamber of Purification, gleefully stomping more worms to goo as
he rushed down the connecting corridor.
The moment he crossed the threshold outside
the Chamber of Hosts, the rigid body went limp, limbs sprawling very much like
a regular corpse’s.
“Ewww,” Varien said, gathering up the body
in a fireman’s carry.
Radegast’s eyes widened as Varien
reappeared with the dead body. “A kid? You picked a kid?”
Varien looked down at the dead boy he was
cradling in his arms. “It was the closest one,” he protested. “And you seemed
like you were in a rush!”
“Give it here,” Radegast sighed. She pulled
out her knife, consulted her book, and began making incisions in the boy’s
stomach.
Black, congealed blood welled up along the
length of the incision.
“What are you doing?” Varien said.
“Cleansing Old Owl Well, you dolt.” She
pulled out a jar, opened the lid, and poured the worm out over the cut in the
corpse’s midsection. The blue worm slid into the open wound like it was the
most obvious course of action in the world.
Radegast shuddered. Then she stabbed the dagger into the boy’s
temple, where the bone of the skull was thinnest.
“ Now
what are you doing?” Varien cried.
“The same thing I was doing before!”
Radegast said, taking another jar out and pushing the worm through the hole in
the boy’s skull. She tossed the jar
aside, ignoring the shattering sound of ancient glass, and body-slammed the tiny
corpse into the column of water.
The boy floated there lazily for a moment,
and Radegast began to think she had read things all wrong. Then, there was a
gurgling sound and the boy’s body began to rotate within the water column,
first slowly, then with increasing speed, and then the corpse was drawn down
into the depths of the well, out of sight.
There was a rumble deep from within the
earth beneath them.
All around them, worms began to scream and
die.
“Haha!” Radegast shouted with glee. “Take
that, you necromantic worms!” She took a step back as the water began to return
to its proper colour.
As she was washing the last of the worm guts and blood off her hands, she
caught sight of her reflection in the swirling water.
As she watched, her reflection’s eyes began
to bulge and her hands went to her throat.
Radegast’s lungs began to fill with water.
“Do something!” Xylon said as he tried to
get out of the reach of the guardian’s grasping metal claws.
Alec cast witch bolt and landed a devastating blow on the guardian.
Xylon cast thunderclap and sent the guardian rocking back on its many legs
with a metallic springing sound.
The guardian righted itself and let loose
with a slam attack on Xylon. The wizard raised his glass staff and popped a shield spell, laughing as the
construct’s blows landed ineffectually on the invisible force field. Even the
radiant-charged axe glanced off the wizard’s protective aura.
“Had enough?” Xylon asked.
The construct shot the wizard with his
energy rod.
The bolt blasted Xylon back a few feet.
Erwen cast heat metal and the guardian began to glow a deep red.
Bob cast shocking grasp but couldn’t get a good grip.
“Radegast, what’s wrong?” Varien asked.
“Did you swallow some worms again?”
Radegast stumbled away from the water
column, struggling to breathe.
Varien had spent much of his youth at sea
and knew the signs of drowning as well as any sailor.
Radegast’s knees buckled as water dribbled
out of her mouth and nose. She coughed wetly.
Varien eased her to the floor. “You’ve got
water in your lungs!”
Radegast nodded, gasping.
“But you weren’t swimming,” Varien said.
Radegast glared at Varien.
“Right, well I know how to save a drowning
person,” Varien said, beginning to pump Radegast’s chest.
With each chest compression, water was
expelled from Radegast’s airway.
Too much water.
“This is clearly a curse!” Varien said.
“How do I fix this?”
Radegast moaned and vomited. With a shaking
hand, she traced out a Netherese word in the pool of blood-streaked water.
Orprel.
Radegast died.
Varien stared at his companion’s
blue-tinged skin and at the word she had drawn. He got to his feet and shouted
at the Well.
“Orprel!”
The water ceased flowing from Radegast’s
mouth. Then he cast a quick healing light
on his friend.
Radegast bucked and heaved, breathing again
for the first time in minutes. She coughed until she thought her lungs were
going to volley forth.
On her hands and knees, she looked up at
Varien.
“Surprisingly refreshing!” She said. “That
water is so good you’ll drown yourself drinking it.”
Varien nodded, helping her to her feet.
“Don’t look at it!” Radegast barked as she
saw Varien glance at the water column.
Varien turned away. “Let’s go find the
others.”
Alec unlimbered his halberd and slashed at
the guardian construct, missing with his first blow but catching the armored
monstrosity on the backswing.
Xylon cast thunderclap again.
The construct struck at Xylon, and the
wizard cast shield reflexively.
Rather than waste blows on the shielded wizard, the construct aimed at Erwen
and Alec, raking them with a barrage of radiant blasts of energy that peppered
their bodies.
Bob cast a healing spell on his brother and then attempted to follow through
with a guiding bolt , but the spell
misfired.
Erwen kept his heat metal spell active, increasing the guardian construct’s
internal temperature to the melting point. Rivets were already beginning to
pop, loosening the construct’s armor plating, which glowed dangerously. There
was a metallic screech from deep within the creature’s innards, and the
animated machine crashed to the floor, spilling gears and unspooling golden
wire.
“Look out!” Xylon said.
The overheated construct blew apart,
showering the room with shrapnel.
The four adventurers groaned as the smoke
cleared.
“What’s going on in here?” Varien said from
the chamber entrance. He and Radegast had made their way across the cavern.
“What happened to you?” Bob asked Radegast,
who looked like she had one foot in the grave.
“Don’t ask,” Radegast said. “But by the
way, I saved Old Owl Well.”
“So what is this place?” Varien said,
eyeing the tapestries and the silver-rimmed pool. “What’s this?” He looked over
at the sarcophagi.
Xylon shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been
trying to figure out.”
“I’ve been in here already,” Radegast said.
“Couldn’t get that pedestal to work.”
Varien looked at the pool of water,
noticing that there were shards of metal that appeared to be floating on the
surface of the water in a very unnatural manner. “What would happen,” he said,
reaching for a jar, “if I dropped one of these good worms into this here pool?”
He upended the jar.
“No!” Xylon shrieked and dove across the
pool of water, catching the blue worm before it could hit the surface of the
pool.
“What’s your problem?” Varien shouted at
Xylon.
Xylon looked up at Varien. “I would punch
you if your perfectly chiseled jawline wouldn’t shatter my wrist!”
“Lads!” Radegast wheezed. “We can always
leave this place. Our work here is done.”
“Done?” Xylon said, pointing at the robe
and crystal ball. “We can’t leave without the treasure!”
“What are you talking about?” Varien asked.
“Look,” Xylon said. “When the Harpers asked
me to check out a lead in Neverwinter Wood, it turned out that my contact was a
banshee named Agatha.”
“A what ?”
Varien barked.
Xylon ignored him. “It was Agatha who told
me about the Red Wizard at Old Owl Well, and that he was after a certain object
of great power, and that in exchange for information I was to return the object
to her!” He pointed at the crystal ball. “That’s the object!”
“How do you know?” Radegast said.
“Look, there was a force field in here that
triggered another one of those robotic constructs,” Xylon said. “That means
whatever is in here is worth protecting.”
“Yeah, and maybe mucking around in here
trying to get at that treasure will trigger another one of those constructs,”
Radegast said through chattering teeth. She was soaked to the skin.
“You look like you need to warm up,” Xylon
said. “We could all use some rest.”
“I need to see daylight again,” Radegast
said. “I’m starting to forget what it looks like. Besides, what makes this
crystal ball so special? Seeing stones are pretty common. How important is it
that you give this one to her?”
“She can take my sword instead,” Varien
said darkly.
“And I want it on the record that you’re
asking us to help you pay a debt to a banshee,” Radegast said. “But it won’t
work.” She explained about the inscription in front of the three items.
“So wait, you already took something from
here?” Xylon said. He looked at Alec. “That explains the explosion.”
“Yes,” Radegast said.
“What did you take?” Xylon asked.
“Some pretty rocks,” Radegast said. “They
feature quite prominently in one of the tapestries, so obviously they are the
most important items in here. That crystal ball there is part of a racist
anti-elven tapestry over there.” She pointed at the tapestry, which filled
Xylon with rage as he viewed it.
“If you want the racist seeing stone,
you’re welcome to it,” Radegast said.
“Idiot,” Xylon said under his breath. “I’ve
just about had it up to here…”
Alec cleared his throat. “Xylon might be
onto something with that crystal ball,” he said. “When I was hired to guard
some adventurers in Neverwinter Wood, they kept talking about a special scrying
stone, and something about a place called Sharandar.” He pointed at the crystal
ball. “The scrying stone sounded a lot like that thing there. This could be
important.”
“Okay, so let’s rest up here while we
figure out how to get that treasure off the pedestals.” Varien said.
“Sunlight…” Radegast muttered. “So close…”
The party caught their breath and patched
their wounds. As soon as she was feeling up to it, Radegast began to play a
soothing song of rest on her lute, which eased her companions’ spirits.
Xylon concentrated on his spellbooks,
trying to divine a way to release the energy field. He tried using mage hand but sparks flew the moment the
spectral hand breached the arcane shield.
Radegast put away her lute, picked up a
twisted piece of metal from the dead construct, and stepped in front of the
pedestals.
“Orprel,” she said with confidence.
Nothing happened.
“It figures,” Radegast muttered as she tried
to push the crystal ball from its perch with the scrap metal.
There was a blinding flash of light and a
scorching smell filled the room. Radegast flew back, hair and clothing aflame,
and came to rest in a pile of twisted limbs.
Bob sighed, picked up his healer’s kit, and
walked over to Radegast’s body. He cast spare
the dying and then went to work with a healing
word.
“What the hell!?” Xylon shouted.
Radegast lay there, grimacing. She glared
at Xylon and whispered. “I…I should knock you on your ass and drag you out of
here.”
“What?” Xylon cried. “You’re the one who
poked the trapped treasure with a stick! You deserve what you got!”
“You've got 60 seconds before I commence
kicking your ass,” Radegast said weakly. She cast healing word on herself.
“Hmm, time…” Xylon said, lost in thought.
“Wait, there might be something to that!”
He turned to the pedestals and cast dispel magic.
There was a flash and the energy field
blinked out of sight. There was an insistent humming sound that began to build
up in the room.
Erwen crouched behind the throne.
“Grab the goods!” Xylon said.
He and Varien lunged for the pedestals and
snatched both robe and crystal ball. A split-second later, the force field
sprang back to life.
“Ha!” Xylon said. He grabbed the robe from
Varien and saw that there was some Netherese script embroidered into the
collar.
“Radegast,” Xylon said sweetly. “Be a dear
and translate this for me.”
Without looking at the script Radegast
said. “Yes, it says ‘kick me.’”
In spite of herself, Radegast looked at the
script, reading it as “Netheril Has Enough Magic.”
“So that’s what you risked our lives for,”
Radegast said. “Great.”
She made sure to hide those obsidian
stones.
The party began to make their way out of
the depths of Old Owl Well. Gathering in the Chamber of Ascension, Radegast
spoke the command word that took them to the main level, and then they worked
their way through the secret tunnel to the surface.
Commander Kraklos and Garmen Ulreth were
waiting for them along with a retinue of Gauntlet and Harper agents who looked
like they were getting sick of camping out and waiting.
“Well then,” Kraklos said. “Took you long enough.
What have you got for us?”
Radegast sighed. “Things you’d never
notice, you non-magical son of a-”
“Easy now,” Xylon said.
“Fine,” Radegast said. “You’ve seen the
ward atop the ziggurat, yes?”
Kraklos and Ulreth nodded.
“Ancient evil,” Radegast said. “But it’s
dead now. We killed it. Also, this well? Powered by necromancy. I hope you’re
happy.”
Kraklos and Ulreth exchanged a look.
Radegast took a deep breath. “Sorry I’m
being a bit short,” she said. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”